Nothing to lose: or, already lost it all–

Loss started, for me, with the death of my mother’s mother in 2007.  It wasn’t exactly sudden, although I took it very hard.  She was only 61 and, apart from her Emphysema, extremely healthy.  I will always remember the click and whir sound her breathing apparatus made as she struggled for breath in bed over her last days.  She wasn’t even a smoker.

We were always like two peas in a pod.  Referring to the interests we shared, my mother always said, “It skips a generation.”  It was true – my mother never took any interest in our hobbies.  She sewed, crocheted, beaded, and knitted among other activities – all which she passed on to me.  My Nana was always so proud to show me off to her stitch-n’-bitch groups.  She had also participated in the WAF program which made her one of the first active-duty women in the US Air Force…
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That Boy Over There is Dealing Drugs While His Sister Sells Herself–

Have you ever sat on a bench at the park or waiting for the bus or in any number of public places?  Whether or not you speak to the people around you (or even actively observe them), you do tend to notice something about the way they are or what they are doing.

Maybe the boy sitting beside you is rolling a joint.  Or that girl over there has on heels that are too high and a skirt that is too short.  Did those two in the corner just exchange something under the guise of a handshake?  And I wonder if that girl is old enough to be with the man she’s walking with!

Now you’ve seen it.  You can’t unsee it.  You can’t pretend that they’re not there and that it didn’t happen.

But do you take the time

to pass judgment?

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Glorious Imperfection: and he flows through me —

***Warning: 

Adult Innuendo

His breath, like a whisper in my ear, speaks multitudes.  His story spills as from a fresh wound and puddles on the floor before us.  I dip my toes in to test the waters.  A beautifully uncomfortable sensation overtakes me, and, for a moment, my breath catches in my throat. ..

The Girl That’s Never Been Dumped: or, why I just can’t help myself–

There are those people that say, “No one has ever broken up with me.”  You know the ones: Girls that are just that hot; boys that are just that wealthy.  Then there are those unfortunately beautiful, tortured souls that have always been the ones left in the wake of relationship after relationship – the ones that are just so good and are incapable of hurting anyone.

Then there are the rest of us.  Those of us whom have been both the heartbreaker as well as had our hearts broken.  It’s normal throughout our lifetimes to hold onto people we’d be better off without as well as to lose those whom we should have clung onto.

That’s life–

I left my first boyfriend the day after I gave him my virginity.  My second boyfriend left me because he wasn’t ready to give his to me.  The first “love of my life” wasn’t able to give me anything because

our decades-wide age gap made it a felony

Open Letter to the Parking Police (because I’m really sorry you didn’t make the grade):

To My Dearest Friends at the Parking Police (I think you’re known as “Code Enforcement”);

For two years, I worked at a jazz bar.  Most of the time, my shift started at 7pm – although once or twice a week I started at 5pm.  Throughout this entire period, you had to pay to park daily until 7pm.  So, it wasn’t really a big deal – at most, a few dollars a week.  At least for me.  Those who worked days paid a monthly permit fee, I believe.

Nearing the end of my time there, a massive, corporate sports-bar conglomerate moved in around the corner and took over the neighborhood.  Not only did they steal much of our business with their cheap drinks and big screens (well, I suppose the Lost weren’t really jazz-lovers, then…), but they also stole our entire parking lot.  Regulars told us tales of how they tried to come in on a Tuesday and, after not finding parking within 20 minutes, drove home.

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Trials and tribulations of an expat stuck in her home country–

I have to be strong so that he can be weak.  Well, at least that’s the long and short of it.  He’d rather not be here either.  But we’ve just done the back and forth so many times.  Had it ever worked out, we would have stayed.  Honestly, had he never asked me to go with him to Tenerife in 2009, we still would probably be in Italy.  Well, I would.  Maybe it would all be different…

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The Soundtrack of my Life: or, what music and when?

I live life by a Soundtrack.  Music lends itself to any situation.  Whether it be in regards to creativity, productivity, or even your emotional state, music is always there to stimulate and bring to life ideas.

Reading Your Writing Lady‘s post “Should You Listen to Music While Writing?” brought this idea to the forefront.  Whether music is a helpful base or a harmful distraction to your endeavors – well, that’s really dependent on the type of person and the type of music.

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Living with Wild Abandon: or, the Bad Boy appeal —

This is an excerpt from my last (rather long, rather verbose) post.  I thought why bad boys have such appeal was a concept that deserved more specific discussion:

My best friend from childhood, the one I always speak about, calls me for relationship advice.  Or, rather, a decision between two “boys.”  She is my age and just as smart, but she is wholly inexperienced in exploring herself and in relationships.  I have been married nearing 5 years, so I can understand her seeking me out for advice.  Especially on such an appropriate query:

M: One of them is so smart and so respectful; he wants to treat me so well, but I just don’t feel it.  The other?  Such a bad boy.  Felonies and DUI’s galore.  A drop-out, a possible drug-dealer – no future, really.  But he’s just so exciting.

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