Hair I am

I cut my hair today. Finally the inches and inches of it. All gone. I never cut my hair. It has been to this date nine years since I have cut it.

When my father died I took off 7 inches of my beautiful Lakota hair. Today I cut off ten.

I watched my mother in a full blown panic attack and realized that she and I have had enough. She and I have been to hell (only to go straight back). The hair is bundled and ready for the ocean. I took my hair to the ocean nine years ago for my daddy. Now I cut it again. My Grandmother past away this last month but in truth, that has nothing to do with anything that comes to my silly hair.

I cut my hair to invoke change, to acknowledge change, to become one with it.

I am within public display of my horrid, painful folly.

I cut my hair because the past is dead. Because the past has become so painful I cannot breathe.

I cut off the past, I found my husbands arms covered with my own tears. Without the past I do not know who I am. My hair is gone, my beauty, my pride. Now I feel worthless. Now I can become worthlessness. I only can accept that I am what I am with or without my precious hair.

If I had balls, they would be very engorged. It took all of my strength to cut my past from myself and face still, my own face. Hair or no hair, God or no God, dreams or no dream.

I could feel the knife upon my vein (oh, how I wanted it). I can still feel the clean cut that severs me from all of this.  But I took the blade to my hair, not to my life.

Death screams to me but I chose to sever the ghost of the past. Not sever the ghost of the future.

Blade covered with hair, not blood. I am satisfied by this.

Gay Marriage; I do or I don’t do?

Recently reading a wonderful article in Newsweek (please buy a copy all of you) with the headliner “The Religious Case for Gay Marriage” Dec. 15, 2008. Whether for or against gay marriage I encourage you to read this most logical, knowledgeable, well written article. It is very true that these last 5 years have been a war waged on two very important things (both which I am very passionate about). The first; abortions, oh you bet I have an opinion on that but alas, another blog. The second; gay marriage.

Cons: Makes a mockery of the traditional man/woman marriage.

My retort: A mockery? With a country that has a divorce rate over 50%?! You want to talk about respecting the sanctity of marriage? In vows (before God mind you) a promise is made to God and to each other that you will love and honor forever, forsaking all others, in sickness and in health. People get divorced anyways because they fall in love with other people, because the partners gets sick or worst of all because two people did not know each other long enough before they were married to realize they are a disaster together. With such little respect shown to the institutional/spiritual marriage between a man and a woman I hardly see why anyone should be offended by two people of the same sex wanting to participate in this very publicly diminished ceremony.

Cons: But the bible says…

My retort: Put a little effort into reading the bible and all other biblical sources before you whip out that line.

Cons: Homosexuality is scary and gross.

My retort: I don’t see anything gross about two men or woman spending their lives together which often involves; the holding of hands, tender looks, passionate arguments, laughing, shopping, eating out, hugging and kissing (all of which I do with my best girl friend and yes, I am married and “straight”). As for the private stuff you can “only imagine” I would recommend that you should not spend so much time thinking about what other people do in bed together and concentrate on what you do in bed. Really how would you like everyone picturing you in the throws of passion (love handles and all)?

Cons: Marriage might make it easier for homosexual couples to adopt children.

My retort: Are you fucking kidding me?! Are you going to adopt them and give them good homes? You would really rather have the child float around in foster care than have a shot at the possibility of a solid, loving home? If you are going to take those guns out better do some research. Children raised in same sex relationships almost always turn out better off (happier, healthier and more successful) than those that come out of  foster homes and equally as good as the “normal” home. Don’t ask me why (though I would try to tell you) just trust me and do some looking up on those statistics.

I know there are plenty more cons but my point is as straight as it gets.

No one has the right to tell anyone what they can and cannot do as long as those wishes do not harm anyone else. I personally don’t see gay marriage as threatening to my life or my husbands life or my child’s life or any ones life for that matter (shit, it doesn’t even threaten my well being). Marriage is hard and if you have the balls to do it then you should be given your chance. It is the human being’s right to choose it’s own path in life.

http://www.youdebate.com/DEBATES/gay_adoption.HTM

http://www.usnews.com/articles/news/national/2008/10/31/emerging-gay-adoption-fight-shares-battle-lines-of-same-sex-marriage-debate.html

http://www.idebate.org/debatabase/topic_details.php?topicID=51

My son’s naked butt

The morning is always a unclear time, before the coffee kicks in and the brain starts to function I am always confused. What will the day bring, what will we do, how often will I call my husband at work? I wake and am greeted by three black cats, one whom presently has his paw in my mouth, a moaning, drooling husband and a child who has shed his diaper and is going commando around the house. Did I really think it was going to be like Doris Day? I think I did. Where are the singing birds? Why isn’t my hair and make-up perfectly done? Plastic scrambled eggs and a house that shows no evidence of a family ever having been there. No, not for me. Runny scrambled eggs, burnt toast, hungry cats, confused husband and my son’s naked butt.

Dec. 10. 2008. StarDate3490.804.20080.12

Dear Dad;

I really, really fucking miss you. I am so mad at you for leaving I can barely control it anymore. Did you really expect me to be able to hold this family up? I mean, what the fuck were you thinking? You don’t talk to me for years then you come back to me and tell me you always loved me then you travel up to see me and die! Really, what the fuck was your soul thinking? Did you really think mom and I were going to leave the hospital and be OK? Did you really think she and I would survive your ignorant death? You know that it is seven years later and it is still the same for her and I as that night you died. You die everyday for us, over and over again. Do you have any idea what I went through? Do you have any idea what she went through?

Let me tell you, you absolute asshole.

After years of longing for our damn relationship to return to normal, after years of self hatred at the thought I had done something so wrong as to lose your love, after years of lingering around your bedroom door waiting for forgiveness you come back to me. You decide to forgive me (much to my shock) for being a crappy teenager. You travel your ass up here with my mother in tow, not once but twice, back to Oregon where we should have stayed. You forgive me, acknowledge me, hug me, cry, tell me you are proud of me, tell me you love me. Then you fucking die. You have some stupid heart attack that kills you while your on the fucking road.

So here it is you jerk. This is just me remember, mom has some words for you too.

My fucking day at work, I begged and begged my boss to get off early so I could spend as much time with you and mom as possible but there was so much to be done that I had to stay all through my shift. By the time I get home, so excited to plan our night together before you get back to California, I give mom’s cell a ring to check status on our plans. Let me tell you now how you destroyed every moment of my life, for the rest of my life.

Panic on the other end of the damn phone. I had no idea. Mom was on her way to the hospital with you. You were already dead. I didn’t know you were dead dad. I got in my Honda in a fury and started to drive in your general direction. You should have died in Portland, not so stupid town 30 miles away. You could have done the damn antique shopping in Portland. I had no idea where I was going, stopping at a Les Schwab in screaming tears to ask where the fucking hospital was in a town I had been to only once before and only in passing.

Oh, let me tell you about the traffic, see you decided to die right before rush hour. I was trying to get to you, putting cigarettes out on the floor of the Honda in panic screaming, no God, you won’t take him, he will be fine, it was just a heart attack, he is alive and we can get his heart fixed, no God, you would not take him from us, no God you just would not do it, never take my daddy, not now, not now when I just got him back.

You see dad? I thought you were still alive and it was too close of a call. Even though my panic was so bad I think I knew you were gone. But I did not know. After an hour in panic in traffic some miracle guides me to the hospital in a town I didn’t know, off of roads I had never travels to rush, crying into the hospital asking for you.

Listen up dad, it gets better.

The nurse did not tell me you were dead. She put her skinny arms around my shoulder and lead me to you.

See dad, she didn’t tell me. I ran to you on that hospital bed, telling you I was there and it would be ok from now on. You just had a heart attack and now we could get your heart fixed and you would be ok and we would be a family again and I loved you, God how much I loved you.

See. You were dead and she didn’t tell me. I really didn’t know until I had stopped talking to you and looked at my mother. You left us there. Alone. You left us for dead. It gets better still dad, see the Grim Reaper may not have taken our bodies but when you died he took our souls.

I screamed my way out of the hospital and put three beautiful dents in my baby Honda. They called the police on me dad. The stupid nurse, shit she probably called, “some crazy girl in the parking lot kicking a white Honda and screaming”. Lucky for the cops they didn’t even touch me. I was ready for the gas chamber.

After that the nothingness set it, not the good kind of no-thing-ness but the empty silence of absence.

I got in a fight with the clerk at the hotel you and mom had been staying at. That son of a mother fucking, ignorant, bastard. When my mom had stated (still in shock mind you) that you had just past away he did not care and demanded that she pay extra to have her room unlocked because she failed to check in. “Sorry, I thought, her husband was busy dying and she had just lost her entire world” but of course, pay the extra damn fee.

I threatened to kill him. If I had had a gun dad, I would have. He told me it wasn’t his fault you had died and I agreed but when I screamed that he could me more compassionate to a widow he just stared ignorantly with a supreme smirk on his face. He didn’t understand. I wish he was in the grasp of death, even now.

Dad. You left us for dead. Now it is Christmas time and you are not here. Oh, you ruined Thanksgiving too. You just had to die Thanksgiving Eve so we eat pizza on Thanksgiving and cry.

I have made every attempt to end my life. Life has little value. Even my beautiful husband, special son and enduring mother cannot convince me to stay. I am coming for you. It was all I ever, really wanted. Just want my God damn daddy.

-Cass

Road Rage

THE MOMENT:

Asshole meets me.

He loved my bumper. He was so sexually attracted to my bumper he tried to kiss it. He got so close to my bumper it thought it was with child. I was only going 70 in a 65 zone and I was just trying to pass a truck but NO! Asshole could not abide by my truck passing, he decided to inject me with some of his hot masculine tailgating and swearing on the road (with eye contact) at stupid “bitches” (oh so I think that is what the third finger in on the right hand means).

WHY did I lag speed? Why did I humor him? Why not pull over on the side of the road and lick my wounds at the nearest bar?

I did not lick my wounds. I dropped to a slow 55 in a 65 zone and made the bastard suffer. He had no way out and I was heading the pack. He was mad when after several miles I allowed him to pass.

My road rage is no gun, nor a middle finger, nor a heart attack. I simply will fight for what is mine, the right to drive on the damn road my taxes pay for. No middle aged, power hungry, small penis asshole can take that from me.

Why the hell did I do that? Because I am tired of being pushed around by some stupid asshole that I do not know that makes me feel like shit just because, like most of us, I am trying to maintain peace and obey the laws on this planet. I want to go fast. Oh, I want to speed, shit, I want to run over people but I don’t. When I pass I smile and when I merge in front of someone I wave (whether they made room for me or not).

Why did I even bother my day with this asshole?

Because I am a petty, stupid, sensitive and compassionate idiot that simply cares too much about what is happening around me and all the other poor, peaceful idiots that care about what is happening to them.

Calamari

Black pepper and Fleur De Sol crusted Calamari steaks.

Fresh calamari steaks

Panko bread crumbs

Course ground black pepper

Fleur De Sol salt (found at specialty markets)

Unsalted butter

Olive oil

Lemon

Fleur De sol “flower of salt” gives these steaks a rich salty flavor balanced out by fresh ground pepper. This is as simple as it gets so use the highest quality of ingredients. The calamari is featured here so a simple garnish of lemon is all you need.

Make a plate of plain panko crumbs and loads of black pepper (as much or little as you like). The salt should be applied directly to the calamari but be very careful, this salt packs a punch and is not for the weak of taste buds (I actually place single grains on the steaks, one grain per square inch) take your time with the salt application it shows your love of food (the food will respect you more). In a large skillet (please no non stick we don’t need training wheels) heat up your olive oil and a wee bit of butter (maybe a teaspoon or two) until the butter is slightly starting to brown over medium high heat (depending on the cookware).

After coating the steaks give them a little jiggle to get any excess crumbs off (the skillet is hot they don’t need a heavy coat to go in) and fry them (depending on thickness) about 1-3 minutes per side. Don’t let those beautiful babies start curling up on you, they get tough and rubbery. Serve with plenty of lemon wedges.

I cannot stress this enough; if you are unsure of the cooking time to get cooked yet tender calamri ask your fish monger. Your fish monger is your friend and like all friends he loves to give advice so keep your ears open!

The Universe Spoke

And so the silence lay like a blissful martini above my mind but no. It was not a martini or some dream of life and love and thoughts of past, present, future.

Yes. I was dreaming of the universe. Very, very large. And very much not a passing drink.

Everything for me is measured in volumes as like so many people whom are allotted; I self medicate.

This dream like so many others always comes at just the right time. And this dream, unlike so many others was just enough to change my mind.

But this dream was followed by a friend. And I do not believe in friends, only foes. And I do not believe in dreams only dark. But I can share this as well as any medication.

To float out in the “UNIVERSE”? Pretty fucking scary. We have all see Alien-Alien 3 right?

This floating? Not so scary for me and mind me peoples’ I had an ambulance once pick me up on the side of the freeway for a “panic attack”. Yes, 500 $$$ bill to boot for that 6 mile trip to the ER to hear my brain had some minor “problems” with controlling my ability to cope with stress and was handing out adrenaline to my blood stream like a drunk bartender. Shit, I thought grim was a knocking on the side of my pretty white honda. I digress…

I am floating around in this solar system and the beauty it bestow is beyond letters put together purposefully. The clam sense of anti fear, anti worry and anti heartache is much greater than any dream dare provide before. As my pudgy body floats aimlessly out of the solar system into the universe I am gently confronted by a large undefined face forming out of what looks like space dust (cheesy I know but bare with me).

Simple as can be, in a strong voice neither guy nor gal, the face speaks to me lovingly of accepting my life and enjoying all experience, good or bad, simply because it is the experience that is needed to grow. It speaks of no fear as fear is attached to the body and is discarded after death. It speaks of after the physical death when what is left of the consciousness makes its way back to great beyond to a entirely different existence. Of life, love, pain, fear, misery, loss, happiness all being generally the same only seen through milllions of different eyes.

What can be said? It was one of those very personal things that I have decided to post on my blog because I am an ass.

As for the friend that followed.

We all know I love wolves beyond all things and hold them in the highest esteem. Well, the morning after the dream, purly by coincidence I followed a van all the way back to my home that had a huge picture of a wolf on the back staring right at me. I just know it was a sign as wolves are my “spirit guides”. I know the driver of that van felt something too, shortly before he pegged me as a stocker after I cut off another car to remain behind him.

I Will Blog…

I will blog in efforts to become a better person and express my ideas to absolutly no one (as none read my tiny, deprived, selfish little blog). I guess I could go on and on about why I have decided to continue with this sorely neglected blog of mine that waits for a post like a woman waits for an orgasm but instead I will simply say; my mother has had a blog a year less than myself and written in it over and over again (yes, a very satisfied blog) and I have let mine be a fancy passing in my somewhat delusional life.

My mommy has outdone me! (This is why they encourage home schooling (smart mommy’s))

No longer will I sit in the shadows of her editorial perfect, prestigious, profound, well-developed, intellegent (not “I can retort” intellegence but real independent free thinking intellegence), passionate blog.

I will now rise above to spew forth a very not intelligent, not profound and very un-developed blog.

How dare my mommy out do me!

So lets see what happens when opinions meet fire meet fingers meet blog.

Will my brutal honesty be the folly or simply the teaser?

Will I look like an ass or like an ass that owns an ass whom is owned by an ass?

Will anything make sense in the end of the end that starts the beginning of the end of another end?

Tune in next week for more of my mental bowl movements.