A confession

As much as I know that this world needs serious contemplation and change, I need a break from it. Today, I just want to say "Oh never mind." or "Oh bother" as Winnie the Pooh would say.

If just for a while, I will just leave it all behind and just be my playful, campy self again. I grow tired of my serious, grim side. I can't save the world from its ugliness and so I must just try to live within it the best I can.

Weeping for Shasta and Dylan

Warning: If you don't like F bombs, then you might not want to read further - because I'm out of character lately, spilling with angry emotion.

I wish I could be more positive these days, but the truth is, I'm heartsick. I'm angry! I'm in a major blue funk over these children...darling, innocent children. I'm sick to death of hearing that some sick person out on PAROLE had his way with and took the life of a sweet and innocent child. It's alarming that nearly every day I hear of a new case.

Isn't it alarming? Aren't you freaking angry?

WHY IS THIS CONTINUING TO HAPPEN?

If you're reading this...please ask yourself, "AM I ANGRY ENOUGH TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS DAMMIT or WILL I JUST SAY 'AWW THAT'S TOO BAD' AND GO ON WITH MY DAY?" well, I am ANGRIER THAN EVER. I'm angry enough for YOU and everyone else. I'm FURIOUS.

I have children and I know how absolutely innocent and sweet and loving and darling and SMALL they are, how precious their little hearts are - they are gold in the face of these monsters.

Dylan didn't have to die. He shouldn't have. Shasta should have never ever met this sick person. Because of people in power not making the right decisions to keep these sick people off the streets, another child is dead and a girl child is struggling right now to make sense of her emotional and physical pain. I don't even want to imagine what she's been through for the past 6 weeks. My mind doesn't want to wrap around it because I know from personal experience how terrifying and devastating assault can be. But I can't imagine being 7 or 8 or 9 and having to deal with someone's fucked up fancy of torture.

I want to do something - but so frequently I feel so helpless and powerless. I want to DO SOMETHING to make a change so that children don't have to experience the wrath of these FUCKED UP individuals anymore.

The problem with this news is, it's TOO much information, so much for us to handle. What can we do? How are we supposed to process this stuff and go on living our daily lives?

If you saw a sick man on the street with a knife ready to stab people because he's crazy he'd be behind bars or locked up in a hospital ASAP right? He could be committed right? We wouldn't let sick people out that would likely kill people so why the hell are we letting people out on PAROLE that have committed acts against children in the past? WHY? WHY? Don't they understand that pedophiles don't change? They don't heal. They aren't capable of being normal. Some freaking psychotherapy doesn't change them.

In this lifetime, mark my words - I will do something to make a difference for the lives and safety of our children. I don't say that lightly.

Tangerine Tangerine

Thank you for your gifts, Jimmy. And now, a few lines from one of my fave songs:

Tangerine, tangerine
Living reflections from a dream
I was her love, she was my queen
And now a thousand years between

The world didn't know what it was in for January 9, 1944. An amazing guitarist was born. Page proved to be one of the most influential, talented and versatile guitarists and songwriters in rock history.

OK - I'm in another Led Zeppelin phase. Can you tell? I've been listening all weekend. I've had several Led Zeppelin relapses over the years. I can't help it - I'm addicted to the art of guitar by the hands of a master.

…As his guitar gently cuts the substratosphere

The Edge: a great guitarist who graces the stages of the world in our time.
And he even wears my favorite number! What a dude.

May I dare get a bit maudlin for a moment? Well of course I can, this is my blog dammit.

I can actually cry when I listen to U2 - the energy that they emit is inspiring and compelling. After all, I have grown up with them. There are 20 years of memories rolled up in their discography and a lot of the mental pictures that their music evokes are wrapped around days and nights that transformed me from a girl into a woman. It was the coolest to have seen them on their previous tour, especially with my best friend.

The Edge is the lifeblood, Bono is the quintessential spirit, Larry is the backbone and Adam is the harmonic balance.

OK, I'm done gushing for now...but let me just say that September 25 is on my mind.

Thinking, breathing, living outloud

Colours swimming in your dish sing to your palette
You discover forgotten money in your pocket
and your spirit dances steps in the rain
when others dash the drops
Words come ashore to your warm blanket in the sun
Ice cream dreams of movement parachute auspiciously to
your secret place
Your reach on ivory opens windows to azure pastures
and a laugh from the child next door stirs up the soup in your soul

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Poets are...
the veins of the world,
signal messengers to the millions
truth-tellers of the best kept secrets,
and some of the worst ones
Poets are word-rhythm dancers to the beat of
under-represented populations