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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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 Bartender Therapist: or, a harem forming about me

I happen to have lots of problems.  I don’t know if it’s because of this or in lieu of this, but I seem to gather about me women with just as many issues.  Whereas my problems are continuous – and generally kept under wraps – it seems like their lives, on sporadic occasion, blow up in their faces.

All at the same time.

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Escape

I found a secret place 

where it’s easy to rewind;

I found a secret space

where I can clear my mind —

In the back of my apartment building, there’s a laundry room.  Its stark white cement and cold, sterile tile (I use the term “sterile” lightly as it’s really in need of a good scrubbing) soak in blue light from the large window and sliding glass doors that make up the back wall.

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Tolerance insinuates that at some point it will be too much–

What is pain? Scientifically, I wouldn’t really know how to explain it. But I’m sure it is a reaction – it’s a physical reaction relative in intensity to some sort of external stimulus.

You stub your toe…ouch. You break your leg – OUCH! Your parachute doesn’t open when you skydive – AHdvhsjjNkskaksjsbJshshsjeb!!
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The Ugly City: or, why I love the sound of the dump truck —

When you walk around in an urban area, you are likely to find some things that are, seemingly, not so pleasant.  For instance, most cities are somewhat dirty.  The beautifully kept storefronts – home to expensive clothing – seem almost out of place

against a backdrop 
of cigarette-butts 
and (almost) empty beer bottles —

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