<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991</id><updated>2009-11-09T11:12:28.631-08:00</updated><title type='text'>iGoddess</title><subtitle type='html'>iGoddess: (n) the state of bliss reached when the Funky Jive within you connects with your inner funk</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default?orderby=updated'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;orderby=updated'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>480</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-3130733201143580488</id><published>2009-09-22T23:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T23:51:00.626-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the male of the species'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freedom revolution'/><title type='text'>chaos, caliber, contention, and compassion</title><content type='html'>Not posting drama for all to see.  Just expressing my sorrow as yet again education and self-actualization separates me from yet more people I love and contention builds in my home. Belief systems are what they are, and like attracts like. The real challenge comes when you change and someone doesn't, and the blindness of others causes grief.  Then again, I was never very good at agreeing to disagree. Selfishness and egotism are two things I do not tolerate well, either, nor do I allow myself to be mowed over. Not willing to write this person out of my life, however, which is my SOP normally. Don't know how else to handle it, though. I'm pretty hot-headed myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know is that where I want to take my education and succeed, and help another succeed, someone else's lack of education and ego is creating a quagmire of ill will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I'm getting a lot of practice separating business from personal. A &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lot&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-3130733201143580488?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/3130733201143580488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=3130733201143580488&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/3130733201143580488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/3130733201143580488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/09/chaos-caliber-contention-and-compassion.html' title='chaos, caliber, contention, and compassion'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-2485493771512917105</id><published>2009-09-15T23:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T23:07:58.612-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rainbow dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visualization'/><title type='text'>it rhymes with "assloads of money"</title><content type='html'>today i spent a total of four hours and something-something minutes masterminding with the CEO of &lt;a href="http://www.paradice.net/"&gt;paradice.net&lt;/a&gt; about some really heavy-duty, hit-the-ground-running-or-be-taken-for-a-drag kind of stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm so jazzed that three hours later, i'm still working on details, exchanging emails like greased lightening with him, talking to artists across the country about what's possible, and it's just so effing exciting i can't even really contain myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm tired, but it's a good kind of tired, y'know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i just wanted to share how proud i am that i lit a fire beneath that CEO's butt, and now our small gaming company has plans to go global very soon.  even our (extremely modest) projections will yield a profit that rhymes with "assload of money."  you know, the "quit my job" kind of quantities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while doing something i truly love, and believe in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with people i love to be around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;earning money to fart around with my friends and have fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and it's not only possible, but it's so farkin' within reach that it has us alternately dropping our jaw and gasping with wonder, and giddy with excitement.  you know, the stomach-flipping, eye-bulging, bladder-busting kind of excited that lit a fire under our ass and fueled &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;four hours&lt;/span&gt; of intense master planning and strategy building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's going to be intense. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;intense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-2485493771512917105?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/2485493771512917105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=2485493771512917105&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/2485493771512917105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/2485493771512917105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/09/it-rhymes-with-assloads-of-money.html' title='it rhymes with &quot;assloads of money&quot;'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-3675355215705182612</id><published>2009-09-07T22:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T23:13:33.569-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='finding the Funk'/><title type='text'>AHA! Moment: "And I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing"</title><content type='html'>y'know, lately i've felt really horrible about missing out on all the wonderlicious stuff happening in our little iVillage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;though, i think with how often i've &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; been posting, i might've been relegated to the outskirts of town, over by the dirt road, in our iVillage, out by no one, lol. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sorry, ladies. i truly am. i miss all of you, and whole days go by where one of the few thoughts in the forefront of my mind is how to convey that since, y'know, we all only really know each other online.  and life is, well, Life. we're out there living it every day and coming home to our blog is for most of us a haven of sorts, where we can be alone with our thoughts and have the time to validate ourselves as women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know that's what it was for me.  my blog has always been a place where i could toss up my thoughts --like paint splatter on a wall-- and just look at it from a more removed location than the overwhelmed tangle it was in my head. it was also my introspective home; i live in my head a lot. i mean, who doesn't? but for me, my inner life is actually more real than the physical life i have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't know a lot of people who can honestly say that. i mean, what an egotistical, scary-hermit-like thing to say. then again, some would say what an &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;existential&lt;/span&gt; thing to say. so i suppose it's all how you look at it.  but really, for me, for years...my thoughts were more to me than the actual physical experiences of my daily life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now it's just the opposite. it's the ebb and flow of life.  something in me shifted, i think, and suddenly i was ready to take all that i'd processed in my head and heart, and go make things happen. and i did. and i am. and now life is so much fun that, for the most part, i don't want to miss it by sitting down at my computer and living online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's not much that i have to think about right now.  i put the important things together, found where i was out of alignment and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;put&lt;/span&gt; myself back into alignment, and finally learned how to say, "screw what anyone else wants, this life is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mine.&lt;/span&gt;" ...but in a good way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because i finally realized what it was i wanted. and i'm going out and getting it.  i'm kicking ass and taking names, building bigger plans and watching them begin to unfold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and...i...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...i just don't have the time or --if i'm honest, the desire-- to live online and blog like mad like i used to.  my life rocks, honestly.  really, truly rocks. and with what i'm building, it's gonna rock even harder here shortly.  but i don't want to give anything away, or speak too soon. i just want to keep my momentum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i miss my iVillage. just wanted to mention that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-3675355215705182612?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/3675355215705182612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=3675355215705182612&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/3675355215705182612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/3675355215705182612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/09/aha-moment-and-i-dont-wanna-miss-thing.html' title='AHA! Moment: &quot;And I Don&apos;t Wanna Miss a Thing&quot;'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-8661910311146319895</id><published>2009-08-05T15:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T15:52:47.508-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>the variety-pak of life</title><content type='html'>there's so much going on inside my head right now, and honestly i don't know where to begin.  life just does that funny, meandering, mixed-up thing it does, and suddenly i'm sitting here trying to blog and wondering where to begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life has in no way whatsoever settled into anything remotely resembling a routine.  i find i miss routine. just thinking about the lack of routine makes my head hurt and i wanna lie down. then again, that could also be from the gluten attack i had on friday night that laid me up until pretty much today. careful avoidance of gluten has made me extremely susceptible to even small amounts now, and wow. it felt like i'd just been kicked by an elephant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;work is going pretty well.  as a pest inspector, i'm expected to squeeze myself into some pretty icky places beneath houses, and in attics.  i find it fun, actually, and i enjoy people's reactions when they see that i --a cute, smiling, cheerful li'l chica-- is gonna go dungeon delving in their crawl space.  it's kinda fun. and i'm starting to really get to know the technicians that follow after me to perform the actual services that i've sold our customers.  i like to leave little things for them, like gift cards to mc menamin's, etc. just to say thank you for taking care of these people and backing up my word.  we all work together, y'know? but it's nice when i know that these wonderful guys got my back.  i'm starting to get further into the business where the teenie details that i don't know are bubbling up, and they look out for me.  so i show my appreciation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;school is still...hmm. i don't know where i'm headed with that just yet. i got back my transfer results from the Admissions office regarding the classes i had taken years ago in cali. now, instead of being 66 credits until my degree, i only have 30 to go.  and i still have my 4.0; i'm a little relieved.  of course, this rather derails my plans for which courses i was going to take, so now i have to sit down with my councillor again and re-plan everything.  and i still don't know if i'm going to take a fall course yet.  spring semester threw me for such a loop, and now i admit that there's so much dread it turns my stomach whenever i think of enrolling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*mj*, eager darling that he is, sat down with me last night to start talking about things like the menu for samhain.  it might be early, but i suppose he's like me in that he wants to be as prepared as possible.  i can appreciate that.  i told him that what i really wanted was a cake.  i haven't done any baking since the "yay, i can't eat guten!" news, and i really, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; miss baked goods.  you know how long it's been since i've had a brownie?! and plain ol' yellow cake with chocolate frosting, i miss it.  no real baking gets done during the summer, but even at the stores i can't eat anything there.  i keep thinking of that little place on the east side that apparently makes a phenomenal gluten-free chocolate cake...and i'm wondering if it's worth the drive...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yeah.  just a yellow cake, homemade chocolate buttercream frosting.  that would make halloween such a special holiday for me.  kinda funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and my li'l sister *t* is coming up on monday!  i'm so excited sometimes it feels like i'm going to burst apart. my li'l sis is something else, i swear. i tell everyone that i was the rough draft, and ten years later the finished product was born.  she's everything cool that i am, only to the nth degree, plus she's got so much else going for her. she's so awesomely awesome! and even more, i can be myself around her in a way that i really can't anywhere else &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;except&lt;/span&gt; with her and my li'l bro *aj*.  we just get &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt; of our jokes (hell, a lot of them we invented together), and she gets my subtleties like no one else. she's been there for me through...well, my entire &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;life&lt;/span&gt;, and she just knows those things for which there are no words. those things that help make me who i am that can't really be explained but influence me nonetheless. she &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;gets&lt;/span&gt; me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when she visits, people up here see us together, then look at me...nod...and say, "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Now&lt;/span&gt; i get it!" see? it's not just me! and she's the only one that i can laugh 'till i die with.  you know when you're laughing so hard you're flopped out on the floor, tears streaming down your face, with absolutely no more breath for any sound at all...but you can't stop laughing to take a breath?  yeah, that's us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a part of me relaxes when she's around.  hell, we grew up together; no such thing as a mystery between us. but also, i just really farkin' adore her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-8661910311146319895?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/8661910311146319895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=8661910311146319895&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/8661910311146319895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/8661910311146319895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/08/variety-pak-of-life.html' title='the variety-pak of life'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-9221682427044922029</id><published>2009-07-25T19:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T19:45:49.707-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>when i grow up...</title><content type='html'>...i wanna be just like &lt;a href="http://allaboutthedicksons.blogspot.com/"&gt;her.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-9221682427044922029?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/9221682427044922029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=9221682427044922029&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/9221682427044922029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/9221682427044922029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/07/when-i-grow-up.html' title='when i grow up...'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-4154836042780524315</id><published>2009-07-20T17:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T19:12:49.884-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='radical intimacy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brezsny on the blog'/><title type='text'>brezsny-on-the-blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.freewillastrology.com/horoscopes/capricorn.html"&gt;CAPRICORN&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; (December 22 - January 19): It makes me famished just to think of you there stewing in your hunger. You almost remind me of a bear that's just awoken from hibernation or a political prisoner who's been on a hunger strike. And yet I know it's not a craving for food that you're suffering from. It's not even an impossible yearning for sex or fame or power or money, either. You're starving, you're ravenous, you're mad for something you don't have a name for -- something whose existence you don't fully understand and can't quite imagine. But I predict you'll uncover a fuller truth about this thing very soon, and then you'll be more than halfway toward gratifying your hunger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i must admit, mr. brezsny, you actually kinda creeped me out with how accurate you are this week. I suppose it's because i've gradually been growing more restless over the last several weeks.  there's been something gnawing at the back of my mind and it keeps me up at night. i pace in my bedroom, i'm distracted at work, i can't focus. i brood. i look out the window sometimes and picture myself crashing through the glass and flying away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...or flying toward something.  i can never be sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but then you said "stewing in your hunger" and it hit me just how right you are about that.  the stewing part, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; the hunger part.  i'm pacing because i'm hungry. i'm restless because i'm hungry. i can't focus because i'm obsessing on this nameless thing that i'm hungry &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;for&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;part of me thinks it's hunger for a relationship. part of me thinks it's hunger for a relationship &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; something else.  but both parts of me are in agreement that i'm ready for the real thing.  a while ago i came to the realization that i am &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; happy alone; that i am just plain &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;built&lt;/span&gt; to be part of something special with another person.  however, i wasn't exactly ready back then for anything special with anyone. but at least i wasn't denying my nature any longer, saying that i was fine by myself and all that other post womens' lib crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but once i made the decision that a relationship was what i wanted, the hunger and restlessness began to grow.  when i make the decision to do something, i don't waste time. i get up &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that moment&lt;/span&gt; and begin doing things to bring my end goal into fruition.  i don't stop until i get what i want. it's just how i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;however, i want the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;right&lt;/span&gt; relationship, and that's just not something you can rush.  it's also not a goal you can work on that has any sort of measurable progress.  you're alone, alone, alone...suddenly you're with someone. and i don't want just anyone, either, but the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;right&lt;/span&gt; one. i'm talking about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; one, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; one.  my funkalicious groovemate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if he's out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i made the decision it's what i wanted, and aside from continuing to groom and mold myself into my own perfect, funkalicious groovemate, there's really nothing i can do. i'm not out to meet people, or get back into the dating scene, or play the field. i'm not out to waste my time or tire myself out "making the rounds."  i'm just not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but going about my life, trusting that it'll "just happen" is rather discouraging. my life consists of work, work, work, coming home and playing catch-up on chores that never get completely caught up. in the fall there will be school, and homework (which i'm dreading, but for entirely different reasons), and i've decided to pick up Freedom Revolution again, because i deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't have time to "play the field," and some would say that i don't have any time for any sort of relationship at all. but i say that i would have all the time in the world for the right person.  however, i can't do anything to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;make&lt;/span&gt; that person show up. i can only continue as i have been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and that sucks.  hard.  it's frustrating, and disheartening, and in the meantime i'm so lonely that it actually hurts right in my solar plexus.  pathetic as it sounds.  "lonely" is such an ugly, pathetic word. i'm surrounded by pairs of happy, comfortable partners and am so lonely i'll take affection from any direction it's offered right now.  and i'm sorry if that doesn't sound quite as funktastic as Delena of the Funkywild is.  but no matter how intelligent, or smart, or cute, or strong i am, i need to be touched and hugged and kissed and held while i sleep and told i'm pretty, and an entire host of other things that are so pathetic for a Wild Amazon to be admitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but fuck that, and fuck womens' lib, and fuck how it makes me look, and fuck what i think about what's pathetic, and fuck what anyone else thinks about what i &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;need&lt;/span&gt;. i know what i need, and i know i want, and i know what i've had to live without.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's also the conundrum of my love and loyalty for my parents...and my own happiness.  if there were someone out there who was perfect for me, but who did not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;exactly&lt;/span&gt; meet my parents' standards, which would be more important? my loyalty to them, respect and obedience? or knowing i was passing up my chance to live a happy life with that perfect someone long after my parents are gone?  the thought of either one twists a knife in my heart. there's injustice with either choice.  but the thought of being kept from happiness brings a special pain. i've been abused so much, and had so much taken away from me from a very young age. the wish to be happy seems such a small thing to want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't want to go another thirty years still pining for happiness, walking around incomplete.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-4154836042780524315?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/4154836042780524315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=4154836042780524315&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/4154836042780524315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/4154836042780524315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/07/brezsny-on-blog_20.html' title='brezsny-on-the-blog'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-980744090495954885</id><published>2009-07-07T18:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T19:09:17.601-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Menstrual Temple of the Funky Grail'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brezsny on the blog'/><title type='text'>brezsny-on-the-blog</title><content type='html'>i was lying upon my naked back and staring up at a sky as vivid as a bluejay's wing. clouds decorated the blue expanse; big, fluffy bundles like the goddess had come with a huge frosting applicator and squeezed out perfect little puffs of white frosting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;was the weather always paradise perfect, here in the Valley? it couldn't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;be&lt;/span&gt; Paradise; i wasn't dead. perhaps it was enough to simply be, to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;feel&lt;/span&gt; paradise around me. perhaps it was Her telling me that anywhere is paradise, depending on my own state of mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was difficult to feel, though.  the pomegranate priestess' words had pierced straight through me. i reached up and rubbed the place between my breasts, where the other priestess had invoked the blue-skinned, flame-haired vulture goddess aspect within and lain my breast in twain with her sickle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there should have been a scar there. the wound had rent the bone, leaving my beating heart open to the sky as my life's blood poured into the River Funk.  but my skin was smooth and perfect.  i had long ago discovered if i brooded too deeply upon the remembered pain --vivid and sensitive as my memory was-- the wound would reopen of its own accord as if freshly cut. if i focused on the lessons learned, the wound closed. if i brooded, i bled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lesson learned. self-pity and holding onto past trauma injured my body, mind, and soul as if freshly inflicted..and i was the one applying the pain.  musings upon the lesson, and the strength i gained while floating half-dead along the River, strengthened me.  nourished me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the skin between my breasts itched.  i was brooding, and i knew it.  so many questions, and no experience in my entire life was sufficient to lead me to an answer.  how to choose among the sisters? how to know to which sect of them i belonged? i felt a kinship with them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the vial was its own weight, and dilemma. whom to bless with its contents? who was deserving, or in most need of a baptism in blood? the mystery of turning water into blood was mine, but how?  what to do, how to use it?  such responsibility weighed heavily upon me, and i could feel it in the weight of the vial itself. it grew heavier by the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to leave Valley-in-the-Glade?  its beautiful colors and gently rolling hills were no longer a safe haven for me; i felt it in my blood. the presence of the blood priestess had changed all that. i was free to remain there as long as i wished, but i knew it was time to leave.  however, leaving terrified me. i didn't know &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;how&lt;/span&gt; to leave, or even if i truly wanted to. i was comfortable there, and all my needs were attended--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...no, that wasn't true. not entirely. something within me ached, but i couldn't name what it was. the longer i remained in the Valley, the more of its bounty i ate and by every pampered night, it would feel emptier and emptier to me. soon i would be starving. but for what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i closed my eyes and gave up trying. all i was doing was going  'round in circles trying to figure out something that couldn't be solved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"the last mystery of the Valley," said a voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sat up, startled, and looked around. up above me sat the most beautiful man i had ever seen.  for once and all i knew the Valley was not only alive, but aware.  how else, then, could it know to show me my ideal man, perfect in every detail to my own tastes from his long hair and stubble around his mouth, to his broad shoulders, barrel chest, kind eyes and broad proportions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was breathless.  he was naked, as was i, and i was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;blushing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cheeks burning, i curled my legs beneath me to hide my sex, and shook my dreadlocks to cover my bare torso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he laughed. "too late. i already got a good eyeful." at my pained expression, he laughed harder. "but i shall pretend i saw nothing and that my mind is as pure as the water of the pool in which you bathed earlier."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my jaw dropped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"you're very pretty," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i buried my face in my hands and squealed with shame and embarrassment.  suddenly i felt hands around my shoulders, large and warm and gentle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"come now," he said. "is it so terrible to know you had an admirer watching from the trees? like actaeon as he spied artemis at her bath."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"and was torn apart by her hounds," i finished, face still buried in my hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he chuckled, and gently pulled my hands away from my face. "true, but you have a much more generous heart than she perhaps had, and would have mercy on one such as me. i was simply unable to keep silent any longer.  and you looked in need of a friend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i shook my head.  "it's nothing," i said.  "it's stupid. but it's nothing." i was already burying it deep down, hiding it from him as i had always hidden everything from everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"dear priestess," he said gently. "now don't do that. don't bury it. i don't care what you feel, as long as you don't feel nothing. get inflamed with hunger or justice or sadness or beauty or love," he laughed, "or embarrassment at being caught naked when you thought you were alone. but don't submit to apathy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...apathy? was that what i had been doing?  no, surely not! all i was doing was putting it away, where it wouldn't get in the way of what needed to be done. emotions always got in the way, were painful distractions and conspired against me to leave me tender after yet another betrayal, yet another abusive relationship as the illusion of love disintegrated and i saw it for what it had always been.  by shoving them down into the deepest, darkest little corner of my mind, i had made sure my emotions did not rule me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pragmatism and a refusal to romanticize things had been what kept me from hurting. from wondering why i was so unlovable that everyone i had ever loved had thrown me away. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; was what i had been doing...right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he smoothed the back of his hand down my cheek. "don't let yourself be shunted into numbness. you can't afford to be cut off from the source of your secret self, even if it means having to feel like hell for a while." he leaned in closer to whisper in my ear.  i closed my eyes and inhaled his nearness. "and the odd thing is that if you're willing to go through hell, you won't have to go through hell. so to hell with your poker face and neutrality and dispassionate stance."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eyes still closed, i gave a small, wry smile. "be a wild thing, not a mild thing, huh?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he kissed my forehead.  "precisely."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-980744090495954885?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/980744090495954885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=980744090495954885&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/980744090495954885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/980744090495954885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/07/brezsny-on-blog.html' title='brezsny-on-the-blog'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-728130926054930365</id><published>2009-07-03T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T09:54:03.549-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Menstrual Temple of the Funky Grail'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pomegranate priestess'/><title type='text'>Ex animo, Delena</title><content type='html'>i looked at the &lt;a href="http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2008/11/400.html"&gt;priestess&lt;/a&gt; for what seemed an eternity. the small vial of water-turned-blood was as heavy as sin, and getting heavier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"you feel it calling, don't you?" she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i sighed. "more like i can't deny its calling any longer," i said. "i've stuffed it down for so long; my whole life. but now...lately...it's shouting so loudly it's like some white noise in the background that has slowly gotten louder until it's all i can hear." i shook my head. "everywhere i turn, it's all i can see. every sound is drowned out by it. every lesson turns me back to it. there's just no escape."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"and why would you run from it, then, sister?" she said, smiling. "if it is tied to you, it does not matter how you run, for it will always follow you. do you not recall our sister, &lt;a href="http://spiritualemergency.blogspot.com/2006/01/skeleton-woman-lifedeathlife-nature.html"&gt;skeleton woman&lt;/a&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"but reprieve!" i almost shouted. "not one second of peace! i need a break from all that noise so i can think! i &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; she's down there, and i &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; i need to deal with it. but i need &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;time&lt;/span&gt; to get used to the idea and decide what i'm going to do about it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the priestess shook her head. "and how much time have you had already? you knew everything was there, and you ignored it. that part of yourself you run from. how long have you ignored her, trapped her down, silenced her, kept her in the darkness and neglected her?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the vial of blood weighed as much as a mountain now. the loose knot holding the ragged scarf around my head came apart, and my dreadlocks tumbled down my back. i remembered how my silhouette had looked so medusan, and in the back of my mind i could hear the faint sound of many snakes hissing in my ears. they sounded angry. ever growing, snakes continually shed their skins, and i could almost hear words in their hissing as they reprimanded me for refusing to shed my own skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"she needs to stay there," i whispered, horrified. "she gets in my way."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the pomegranate priestess stood, then, and brushed herself off. "then perhaps we were wrong, and this affinity for our path is only on the surface. stay here in the Valley, then, little sister. for apparently this is as far as you go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she turned to walk away, but i reached out and snatched her blood-stained hand in my own. i was staring off into the distance, unable to look up and meet her eyes. "she's hated," i said. "perhaps not by me, but she is hated. when i embrace her, i am scorned. they mistreat me, and scold me, and cheapen me, and use me. i am &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; some cheap, simple thing to be cast aside!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"they don't understand," she said gently. "they have lost their own innocence, so when they see yours they cannot bear it. some would subsume it, as ancient societies believed consuming the body would absorb the spirit as well. others would destroy it within you, for your obvious power reminds them of their starving lack. this part of you, this other, is someone you run from because of the pain you believe others inflict upon you because of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i say to you that you have done yourself --&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and her&lt;/span&gt;-- a grave injustice. you have misunderstood her, and yourself. you have hidden her away so none could abuse her, yet you continue their work and abuse her far worse than anyone else could ever dream. and so i ask you, sister, why you curse those who have deeply wronged you, why you refuse to forgive most of them, when you do nothing but continue their work upon yourself? do you do this for some measure of control? to please them? to make sense of things you could not possibly have understood when you were young? some other reason entirely, or perhaps some combination of them all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"whatever it is, my dear sister, it is something you will need to conquer before we can allow you your first crimson of our sisterhood." she pulled her hand free from mine. "if that is still your wish."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and she left me there in Valley-in-the-Glade, naked and trembling and clutching a vial of my own blood. few ever come this far, they had said. fewer survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...i was beginning to understand why.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-728130926054930365?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/728130926054930365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=728130926054930365&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/728130926054930365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/728130926054930365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/07/ex-animo-delena.html' title='Ex animo, Delena'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-1403750354126071691</id><published>2009-07-03T00:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T00:46:06.442-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='finding the Funk'/><title type='text'>if...</title><content type='html'>i follow &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/tonyrobbins"&gt;tony robbins&lt;/a&gt; on twitter, and earlier he asked what we would do if we knew this was our last day here. i've heard that question before. we all have. it's everywhere.  but for some reason, tonight i thought about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i only had 24 hours, i'd call someone up and confess i'm falling in love. nothing huge, nothing grandiose. just quiet, and warm, and there. i'd fill up the Funkmobile and drive to the coast, sit at Hug Point on the huge rock at the south end and write haiku. i'd call up suzi and *t* and li'l *c* and tell them how much i love and miss them. i'd fix myself a huge, honkin' plate of spaghetti and say to hell with celiac disease. oh! and cake. yellow cake with homemade chocolate frosting. i'd buy neat new toys for my cat and give him catnip and just give him the happiest day with me he's ever had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next, natural question is, "so then why aren't you doing those things now? why wait until your last day on earth?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, to be honest, aside from the whole eating spaghetti and confessing something akin to love (which is probably more like trust, which considering it's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt; we're talking about, it's probably even more miraculous), i already &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;do&lt;/span&gt; those things. i call up the people i love. i tell them i love and miss them. i make sure my kitty is the happiest kitty on the planet. everything else takes care of itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right now, i should be taking care of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;.  and i'm tired.  i'm headed to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-1403750354126071691?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/1403750354126071691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=1403750354126071691&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/1403750354126071691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/1403750354126071691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/07/if.html' title='if...'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-7358589746725987824</id><published>2009-07-01T20:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T20:20:48.089-07:00</updated><title type='text'>just thought i'd share...</title><content type='html'>&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://widgets.clearspring.com/o/48443ed0ef450851/4a4c278ea078f60c/48443ed076df39a3/a7181919/widget.js"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-7358589746725987824?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/7358589746725987824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=7358589746725987824&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/7358589746725987824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/7358589746725987824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/07/just-thought-i-share.html' title='just thought i&amp;#39;d share...'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-3058949175062637981</id><published>2009-06-30T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T12:56:24.432-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='delena haiku'/><title type='text'>delena haiku</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;it's a gorgeous day,&lt;br /&gt;and for once, i'm not working!&lt;br /&gt;took a day to rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thoughts of freedom are&lt;br /&gt;once more circling 'round my brain.&lt;br /&gt;just can't let it go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all it takes is rest.&lt;br /&gt;just a little, and i'm back:&lt;br /&gt;Funk Soul Goddess, yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-3058949175062637981?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/3058949175062637981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=3058949175062637981&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/3058949175062637981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/3058949175062637981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/06/delena-haiku.html' title='delena haiku'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-3534328749649804454</id><published>2009-06-28T18:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T21:21:13.864-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='finding the Funk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='radical intimacy'/><title type='text'>21 guns</title><content type='html'>if you listen to the radio at all, you've heard this song. being that i'm in my work truck anywhere from two to six hours a day doing nothing but driving, i now listen to a lot of radio. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this song has really, really stuck with me. for a while i couldn't have told you why. well, aside from the really effing awesome music compilation and &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;especially&lt;/span&gt; the drums, i couldn't think of anything. but then i sat down and listened to the lyrics, and i now realize why my subconscious has had such a strong connection to this song. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lately my life has been constant conflict: my body with my work schedule, my mind with my body, my previous programming with my actual needs, my work schedule with my family and friends, my conscious with my subconscious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;way back when, people used to believe that heaven and hell did battle every day, with our bodies and souls as their battle field. lately i've wondered if they were more correct than they were aware of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've come to realize certain things about myself, certain aspects of my soul i've denied and abused and tried to kill my entire life. i suppose you could call it my inner child. i've treated her rather cruelly. i'm learning to accept her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also, a dear, dear person introduced me to a book i had never heard of, and a concept i hadn't known existed. the book is &lt;a href="http://www.hsperson.com/"&gt;the highly sensitive person&lt;/a&gt;, and --like gluten-free girl-- is revolutionizing my life. i've bought three of her books ("the highly sensitive person," the workbook, and "the highly sensitive person in love") and am reading the first one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i can't breathe, reading it. just like when i first cracked open &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;gluten-free girl,&lt;/span&gt; i am reading a book that is telling me about my life in explicit detail. i've never really felt as if a book were speaking directly to me before, but this particular work is doing exactly that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's drumming up very powerful feelings within me. unfortunately, i read this book where and when i can, given my schedule, so it goes without saying i don't have the luxury to experience the emotions freely as if i were to read the book in private. because lemme tell you, if i were...this book would have had me railing and weeping and openly experiencing emotions i haven't felt in too many years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's also helping me see myself in an entirely new light: one that's not in the least negative. i'm &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; crazy. i &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;do not&lt;/span&gt; have a disorder. i'm &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; too broken to live. do you know what it's like, finally learning that there's absolutely nothing wrong with you, and you are worthy? finally, blessedly worthy? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;worthy of what? worthy of being alive. worthy of breathing. worthy of just as much love and understanding and acceptance as anyone else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's another Delena of the Funkywild r[E]volution.  so i'm going through my trunk of old clothes and dusting off my pink go-go boots, pink flashy-hearts-on-springs headband, and my bandolier filled with glitter lip gloss and small bottles of bubble solution.  Delena the Revolutionary Freedom Fighter for Beauty, Truth, and Finding the Funk is back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she's fucking &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i'm raising the white flag. i'm giving the 21 gun salute, discharging my ammunition to show i am no longer hostile to my soul, my sensitive body, my needs, or my inner child. i have &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;no idea&lt;/span&gt; how i'm going to live in peace and harmony with them --the demands of my work life are so strenuous and exacting-- but i know i will no longer continue the fight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my strong, independent, tough adult self that can smell bullshit a mile away and refuses to take &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;any&lt;/span&gt; shit from &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;anyone&lt;/span&gt; can be an awesome, kickass big sister for my little girl self.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...why have i taken the reins from my bio-parents and been the evil stepmother to her for so long? why have i compounded her abuse? she's strong in her own way, and amazing to have survived for so long, with so little. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and so...i lay down my arms and give up the fight.  21 guns...i lift up my arms into the sky. her and i...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-LuHJV4Lt0Q&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-LuHJV4Lt0Q&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-3534328749649804454?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/3534328749649804454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=3534328749649804454&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/3534328749649804454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/3534328749649804454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/06/21-guns.html' title='21 guns'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-7051984604142045004</id><published>2009-06-19T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T13:14:40.851-07:00</updated><title type='text'>when i was a child, i caught a fleeting glimpse...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;....out of the corner of my eye.&lt;br /&gt;i turned to look, but it was gone.&lt;br /&gt;i cannot put my finger on it now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's kind of where i think the Funk is. it's so far gone right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know how our thoughts become our reality, right?  well, today is the first bit of real proof that i've headed to a very not-good place and it's starting to manifest in my daily life.  it might seem small, locking my keys in my work truck, but now i'm late for an appointment. the locksmith is going to set me back about sixty dollars, after already being set back $400 this month due to a dead computer and a cell phone plan that couldn't keep up with my job. the speakers on the Funkmobile died a few days ago, i just can't kick this bronchitis (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;still!&lt;/span&gt;), and i'm behind on paperwork for work again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;little things are starting to fall apart on me, and i know half of it is because i'm not in the right headspace.  but i don't know how to get out of it.  there's so much going on around me. and while the majority of it is work-related, i feel so overwhelmed right now that any new information is just making me break down. the smallest stress now is causing me to overload and have panic attacks.  ...like last night. and it happened in front of my best friend.  if it had to be anyone, i'm glad it was her. but still.  i hate that it was in front of anyone.  i hate that i had one at all. i should have more control over myself, and should have shoved it down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but speaking of shoving things down...you ever have an overfull suitcase that just will not shut no matter how much you sit on it?  yeah. there's no more room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's...just...no...more...room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as for priorities? work, school, family, and something else i'm not ready to mention here. they're all priorities, and they're all important, and they all deserve as much time as i can give them. everything else has already been dropped. if i drop any more, i cross the line into the disappointing-the-people-who-love-me territory. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cannot and will not do that.   fuck, i don't know what to do anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-7051984604142045004?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/7051984604142045004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=7051984604142045004&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/7051984604142045004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/7051984604142045004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/06/when-i-was-child-i-caught-fleeting.html' title='when i was a child, i caught a fleeting glimpse...'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-6631561693783953245</id><published>2009-06-18T23:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T00:11:22.844-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uncategorizable'/><title type='text'>brain dead</title><content type='html'>it's a couple minutes to midnight. i just got home a few minutes ago.  *lw*, the boss lady, *mj*, and baph (the leezard), and i went for sushi tonight. it was a lot of fun, but the trip to the sushi place was a very real lesson in just how strung-out i really am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i should not be losing my temper just because i made a wrong turn trying to follow crappy, vague, last-minute directions.  and normally i don't.  i'm hitting that "dead end" sign at the very end of Exhaustion Blvd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there was this one time when i was in grade school when i tried to do all my laundry in one load. my bio-mom had said i would overload the washer and dryer, and she said if i couldn't carry it all in my arms, then the load was too big and i should divide it.  well, i refused to listen because a.) i hate laundry, and b.) i'm really fucking impatient. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;always have been.  just because i seem to keep a cool head on the outside doesn't mean i'm not going &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fucking nuts&lt;/span&gt; on the inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i showed my bio-mom i could carry that laundry all in my arms.  and my arms were so full of clothes that i was doubled over, trying to brace them all against my body. and i would lose clothes the whole trip from the laundry room to my bedroom. a sock would fall, then a shirt, maybe a few pairs of panties, a random sock or three...and there was this trail of clothes, and i had to make two trips to get everything i'd dropped on the way during my first trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it frustrated me to no end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, it's kind of the image i get in my head when i think of my life lately.  i've got so much in my arms that i'm leaving a trail of crap and paper and activities and people in my wake.  things and people and important stuff that i have to drop just because work is dominating my life.  i'm always behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate being behind.   hate it.  i'm the penultimate capricorn.  talk about perfectionist and no-nonsense efficiency at its finest. if it takes me all damn day to do a good job, then damn it all, i'm going to do a good job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and yet...there's that pile of laundry in my arms, with all these things falling out of my arms and landing on the wayside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't really laugh anymore. not, like, the relaxed laughter that comes of a light heart.  my heart isn't light.  my heart is heavy and exhausted and so stressed out.  the stupid thing is that i thought things would get better after school let out for the summer.  but what i'm finding is that now that i'm not so wholly and consumedly focused on school, i'm realizing just how much everything else was neglected.  so now i'm trying to make up for lost time, and get caught up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i've gained no ground.  i'm just as behind as i was last month.  i feel worse about the people in my life that i feel i'm cheating.  i feel like i'm cheating them out of something good. i feel like the worst kind of person because i'm not there for them like i used to be.  hell, i had to book *lw* with her own appointment on my work schedule just so i could help get her to her ultrasound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's just this side of ridiculous.  and lately, that's how it has to be.  and just because i know i'm mortal doesn't mean that i don't feel horrible about not being able to give people more of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and jeez, i've been writing for ten minutes, and i'm effing passing out.  omg.  and while i know it'll help not a whit, i need help.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-6631561693783953245?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/6631561693783953245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=6631561693783953245&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/6631561693783953245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/6631561693783953245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/06/brain-dead.html' title='brain dead'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-3930940726446584008</id><published>2009-06-17T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T21:49:38.287-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uncategorizable'/><title type='text'>no more sea water up my nose...</title><content type='html'>okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's 9:40 pm and i'm totally wiped. for now, however, i am totally caught-up on work. it only takes putting 12+ hours in a day, counting everything from appointments and drive time, to paperwork and phone calls to customers.  i'm not too happy about the hours i put into work. when i get home, i like to be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;home&lt;/span&gt;, y'know? not, "oh, okay, i'm home now, but i still have three hours of work ahead of me after already falling asleep on the freeway." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;finals were over last tuesday, and i've been catching up on my life ever since.  i think i'm finally making some headway. as i said, work's already all caught up. tomorrow's a different story, but Here Now, i'm five by five. my room's getting better. there are still some clothes, and a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ton&lt;/span&gt; of papers that need to be sorted, tossed, and found homes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...i just need a bigger desk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of desks, on the 31st of last month, my computer just up and died for no good, apparent reason.  that pretty much pissed me right the @#*! off, because i'd been having problems with it, but all i'd asked *mj* to do was replace a noisy fan that was annoying the crap outta me.  he unplugs it, and suddenly BAM! nothing works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so there went $250 i didn't expect to spend, replacing my beloved pc with an acer aspire netbook.  pink, of course.  i tote it with me everywhere. literally. it's never out of arm's reach, because i never know when i'm going to want or need to log onto the internet for something, or have a few spare minutes to write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course, after the you-have-over-$200-in-overage-charges-on-your-phone-bill-delena fiasco, i also upped my plan to the "simply everything" plan with sprint. this time, i hope they don't hose me with hidden fees. however, this also means that my trusty, cute, pink ipod-ish phone can now access email, surf the web, text message, and i have a nav feature that's sort of like TomTom only better. it also has a "search" feature, so i can find things close by...like known gluten-free restaurants while i'm out in the field for work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of work, i work a full 90 mins south of where i live, so work's becoming an adventure.  lots of windshield time, listening to KINKFM, CHARLIEFM, and some other radio station i can never remember. but between those three, i can usually keep myself entertained with music throughout the entire day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it keeps me somewhat sane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now...if i could just catch up on sleep, and eat on a dependably regular basis, i'd be making some huge headway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one step at a time, dee.  no need to eat every single frog all at once, after all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;even though, damnitall, i &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; to.  i suppose impatience and frustration are their own frogs, hmm?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-3930940726446584008?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/3930940726446584008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=3930940726446584008&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/3930940726446584008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/3930940726446584008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/06/no-more-sea-water-up-my-nose.html' title='no more sea water up my nose...'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-5975620482836558759</id><published>2009-06-10T10:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T11:10:10.141-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='edumacation'/><title type='text'>[insert clever title here]</title><content type='html'>looking back on my entries the last few months...i was hit by a mack truck, wasn't i? march was bad, april was worse, may kicked me in the teeth, and here it is june and it's just like in the cartoons where i'm wobbly on my feet and dizzy with little tweeting birds flying around my head. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;finals were last night.  oi vey, don't ask me about finals. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the job is going really well. i was in So.Cal last week for training, and for all intents and purposes it was a fantastic success. now all that material that's been piling up in my room that i've been ignoring is getting sorted, and i get to start cramming for State exams now. oh fun. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;i remember being little and going to the beach with my bio-family in So.Cal. there was this one summer when i decided i was going to be daring, and swim out past where i could see the bottom. out where the big kids were. and i did. and it was a blast! it was kinda like swimming in the most ginormous swimming pool in the world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;then this wave came and hammered me all the way down to the sand, and i didn't know which way was up, and the current dragged me tumbling and floundering along the bottom. i hit my head on a rock, and cut my hand on a jagged shell. i tumbled along the bottom forever, it seemed. i ran out of breath, and oh gods, i can remember the panic as i realized i was still under water and couldn't breathe. my body fought for air, and i was flailing for anything to hold onto. i tumbled over and over, and there was no sense of direction. water shot up my nose and down my throat. i was breathing, but it wasn't really working. belatedly i realized i'd sucked down a mouthful of seawater. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;finally i bobbed to the surface. i remember this rattling breath that sounded like when you turn a water bottle upside down and give it a good squeeze...then let go and let the air back in, and you get that sucking, burbling, bubbling glug-glug sound. that's kinda how it was. then i was sinking back down and coughing and barfing up salt water, and it was pouring out of my mouth and nose, and eyeballs and ears it seemed, too. and just as i was in the middle of my first painful rasp of fresh air, another wave pounded down upon me, straight down on my head, and my face slammed back into the sandy bottom and i saw blood in the water, and i tumbled over and over, and over and over. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it finally fizzled out, dragging me as if i were a dented tin can tied with twine to a stray dog's tail, to shallower waters. i stood up, blood down my face and dripping into the water, lungs stinging and throbbing, coughing water up my nose, head pounding, dizzy, and tears streaming from my eyes. no one came at me and said, "oh god, are you all right?" or anything. i don't think anyone saw. i dragged myself out of the water, went to get my towel, and didn't go back into the sea for about sixteen years. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that's kind of how it felt these last couple of months. dragged along the bottom, tumbling, can't get a breath. now i'm back in shallow(er) waters, reeling, coughing up sea water. all i want is to find my towel, lie down in the warm sun, and dry off. maybe make a sand castle, or go roller skating on the board walk. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-5975620482836558759?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/5975620482836558759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=5975620482836558759&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/5975620482836558759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/5975620482836558759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/06/insert-clever-title-here.html' title='[insert clever title here]'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-8891015419681376404</id><published>2009-05-25T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T06:49:08.799-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uncategorizable'/><title type='text'>where spare time is doled out in minutes</title><content type='html'>i found myself with a few spare minutes this morning before i head to work. of course, i have no idea what i wanted to write about, just that i wanted to write &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt;. i miss my iVillage, i miss reading about your lives and hopes and inner journies, i miss hearing from you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dear gods in heaven, i'm so busy lately that my brain doesn't work even when it needs to, and this last week i've spent much of my free time sleeping. so it really doesn't feel free to me. i threw in the towel and gave up on a social life, and i decided to walk away from dating and the whole funkalicious quest to find my groovemate. i just don't have the mental energy for that kind of emotional pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought working and going to school were so that i could improve myself and my quality of life, so that i could go out and enjoy life. but i just feel like i'm in a lockdown, like i'm living to work and go to school. with summer, things are really picking up at work, and i devote a lot of 6-day weeks to it. finals are coming up. after finals, i have state exams to study for, for my license (so i can, y'know, work more).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss my family, i miss writing, i miss waking up next to someone. perhaps it's just not the right time in my life, but it's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;never&lt;/span&gt; the right time in my life. for the first time in my life, i'm sincerely and painfully lonely, and it came on the heels of the realization that my Funk really can't survive in the presence of an Other. there's a lot of anger, and pain, and exhaustion. it feels like i've taken a huge step backward. looking through some journal entries i'd made on another blog (that died, btw) i'd said that i felt i was ready for wetter, wilder, more interesting challenges. and then this ginormous shit pie flew right into my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i can't stand slapstick, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so here i am. i don't know how to clean this up, or what to do with it. i'm so exhausted and overwhelmed that i find myself stuck in depression and i don't know how to get out of it. there's just &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; much anger. i don't even know what all of it's from, either. the Funk is so far away i can't feel it. sometimes i don't want to even do the work necessary to get back in touch with it. i just want to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm very confused. and my schedule has gotten me so isolated, that i'm feeling rather alone. i've hit a point --with learning how to eat all over again, school, work, duties around the house, my family-- that i can't do this alone. it's too much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-8891015419681376404?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/8891015419681376404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=8891015419681376404&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/8891015419681376404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/8891015419681376404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/05/where-spare-time-is-doled-out-in.html' title='where spare time is doled out in minutes'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-5052595629726624423</id><published>2009-04-26T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T13:05:46.787-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the art of eating frogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sacred life sunday'/><title type='text'>to my iVillage</title><content type='html'>Dear Sisters of Funk,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have read my tales through many years of everything it is to be a woman. You've cooed with me through the sweet in life, rejoiced with me in victory; you've died laughing at my antics and the funny in life, and reached out to me through the painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know life has me by the nape of the neck right now; I haven't yet figured out how to take control of everything on my plate, though with more free time now I'll be able to make that happen. But I haven't been there for you lately, to leave the supportive comments on your blogs, or in your email boxes, like I should and like I used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But...I know you're still there for me. The last couple days I have &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; appreciated your support. You remind me of who I am: Delena of the Funkywild. You help me see that right now I'm only trapped in my insecurity, and that my own exhaustion and overwhelm helped make me susceptible to my Inner Flaming Narcissist once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because as we all know, being the Divalicious Funkmasters we are, that insecurity is nothing more than self-absorption married to fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inspired by your love, my sisters, and drawing from your strength and support as my own strength has waned lately, I hereby summon my Inner Flaming Narcissist and banish that bitch to the little box in my head where she belongs. Instead of waiting for someone to come to me, to help me get out of this, I called on a friend instead. I called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;her&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Led by your example, my sisters, I called upon someone I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;knew&lt;/span&gt; beyond a shadow of doubt would be there for me...and she was. I'm getting ready to go meet her right now, so we can have fun together, and she will help me lift myself back up, and remind me of my beautiful soul, and show me the world keeps turning and the sun keeps rising and every breath is a precious gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke this morning feeling so lost and desperate, and just the memory of it makes tears burn behind my eyes. I don't understand why it's so damn difficult to find someone worthy of me, and what inspires someone to want to tear down a Funkmaster and treat her like shit. Works of art are we, and I never hear of anyone wanting to spray-paint obscenities upon the Mona Lisa or throw a rock through the windows of Notre Dame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm getting up. I'm &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;making&lt;/span&gt; myself get up, and I'm going to banish my Narcissist and eat the damn frog of Insecurity. He's a bastard going down, that's for damn sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm fucking eating that frog, godsdammit. My sisters, I was strongly moved to tell you how much I love you all, and how much I have to attribute today --the first day of my recovery-- to your strength. I agree with all your comments you've left the last few days. I love you all for them. Especially all of you; you all said something that hit me to my core. Thank you for keeping me on the right track.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-5052595629726624423?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/5052595629726624423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=5052595629726624423&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/5052595629726624423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/5052595629726624423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/04/to-my-ivillage.html' title='to my iVillage'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-6560233107168285379</id><published>2009-04-25T12:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T12:32:02.802-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='radical intimacy'/><title type='text'>to whom it may concern,</title><content type='html'>I am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...unsure of how to do this. Relationships and I don't get along. I know who I am, and who I am keeps getting in the way of me loving you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...brilliant when writing, but when I open my mouth, shit falls out. I need you to ask me a lot of clarifying questions when I'm trying to bare my soul because, inevitably, I screw up what I'm trying to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...vastly intelligent. Too much so. My logic and methodical rationality...I dunno. But apparently they ruin something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...full of love, and am happiest when being cuddled for hours. I want to be wrapped up in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...independent. I don't need a Daddy, or total power exchange. I have very loving parents who give me unconditional love and guidance, thank you. But I do want someone who will accept my service and devotion, and know it is because I love them that I do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...clumsy in showing my feelings. They're deep, and sometimes overwhelming. When I am drowning in love, I tend to want to swim to shallower waters. I need you to be patient, and take my hand, and show me how to swim with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...very generous. I will give you everything I possibly can, and work hard to give you what you want from me. It will take time; a lot of time. But I'm worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...not given to trust easily. And I will balk a few times along the way. But if you are patient, and understand I am like a skittish doe who needs a gentle hand cradling my heart, your reward will be my undying, unabashed, unwavering loyalty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...terrified of my dark side, the monster that lurks deep within my psyche and wants to surface when I am tired, or hungry, or really stressed-out. My temper is just as bad, and I keep both of them under lock and key, because I have broken people in the past when I have lost control. I keep a tight rein on my self-control so that it never happens again, and I never hurt anyone again. If you understand this, you will ask to see that dark side of me, and gently encourage me, slowly, to trust you are strong enough to handle that side of me without losing your love for me. Because that is what I fear most: that you will see her, my dark side, and recoil as so many others have before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...in need of being conquered. Like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Taming of the Shrew&lt;/span&gt;, I need someone stronger than me, smarter, understanding, ruthless, but loving and very affectionate. I will fight you, and make you run hard to catch me, but I long for the worthy man to catch me, and conquer me, and be mine alone...as I am his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...naked before you, writing this. My heart is tender and bruised. I am afraid, baring myself like this. But if you are out there, you will see this. Above all, I want to be loved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-6560233107168285379?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/6560233107168285379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=6560233107168285379&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/6560233107168285379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/6560233107168285379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/04/to-whom-it-may-concern.html' title='to whom it may concern,'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-6727677199178370731</id><published>2009-04-25T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T10:29:23.945-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><title type='text'>helping...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KVMQSzU_f8Q/SfNIIFApEtI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/cjfEM7y_YXQ/s1600-h/wakeup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 330px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KVMQSzU_f8Q/SfNIIFApEtI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/cjfEM7y_YXQ/s400/wakeup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328682087730451154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;woke up still kinda sad.  heard *cc* talking with leezard (the new roomie) and laughing, went to see. she said check out lolcats. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so...i'm checking out lolcats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;still kinda sad, but it's not stopping me from laughing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-6727677199178370731?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/6727677199178370731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=6727677199178370731&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/6727677199178370731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/6727677199178370731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/04/helping.html' title='helping...'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KVMQSzU_f8Q/SfNIIFApEtI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/cjfEM7y_YXQ/s72-c/wakeup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-6548378959503004911</id><published>2009-04-24T16:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T16:29:16.081-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><title type='text'>deadFunk</title><content type='html'>greggo emailed me once, a long while ago, and told me that i was fantastically on my way to mastering the Funk, and then he and *m* threw such a wrench into the works that it totally derailed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when i was on my dating kick, the Funk suffered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i tried a relationship with a younger man, and somehow lost my sense of humor. after telling him about my real estate investing dreams, he told me he could never be with someone who loved money so much. i told him i couldn't be with anyone who didn't support my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;between learning to live without gluten, entering a new community one week, a new job the next week, returning to school the next week after a decade away, and entering my first serious relationship since *m* back in december of '07, i was exhausted, hungry, stressed, emotionally tender, exhausted, confused, insecure, and did i mention exhausted?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i took some "me time" to try and sort everything out. i was getting dangerously close to the blow-up-at-everything-and-sabotage-my-relationships stage. i needed time to rest, and think, and slow down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in that time, my lover assumed i wanted someone else, misinterpreted &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt; i said and wrote, shut me out for a week, and i found out this morning he's with someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in all this, i don't know how i could have done more, been more, given more. i was always honest. i handled my own issues. i was loving. i let him into places inside my heart i never wanted to ever &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;see&lt;/span&gt; again after *m*. i covered his face in kisses at night and told him i loved him. i retreated in order to make sure i didn't hurt him if i had a meltdown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i did everything i could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i've been here wondering what's wrong with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as long as it's just me with my family, the Funk is strong within me. i am confident, joyous, Funktastic, creative, and invincibile.  the moment there's anyone else in my life, the Funk is either murdered (like *m* did), or it goes out. when i show my ugly side, they leave me. when i don't show my ugly side, they leave anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't understand it. everyone wants to be loved. i am no different. i want to be held at night, told i'm beautiful, appreciated for those unique things about me. i want it. but i'm beginning to wonder if Delena of the Funkywild can only survive alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll get up again from this. i always do. i'll survive, i'll be strong, i'll re-find the Funk. and i can find happiness in my solitude. but i want a fulfilling relationship, and something deep inside me is afraid that Delena of the Funkywild is made for no such thing. I want to grow old with someone who loves me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-6548378959503004911?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/6548378959503004911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=6548378959503004911&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/6548378959503004911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/6548378959503004911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/04/deadfunk.html' title='deadFunk'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-6120080344313976002</id><published>2009-04-21T14:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T14:39:45.103-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brezsny on the blog'/><title type='text'>brezsny-on-the-blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KVMQSzU_f8Q/Se480HWPdBI/AAAAAAAAAEA/O0OO9ziQEeA/s1600-h/spaceball.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1px; height: 1px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KVMQSzU_f8Q/Se480HWPdBI/AAAAAAAAAEA/O0OO9ziQEeA/s320/spaceball.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327262275249075218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.freewillastrology.com/horoscopes/capricorn.html"&gt;CAPRICORN &lt;/a&gt;(Dec. 22-Jan. 19): From an astrological point of view, the coming weeks will be an excellent time to start a band and record an album. Your creativity is waxing, your attunement with the right side of your brain is especially sweet, and you will benefit immensely from anything you do to become less of a spectator and more of a participant. To jumpstart the process, go to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; and click on "random article." That's the name of your band. Then go to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://en.wikiquote.org/"&gt;en.wikiquote.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; and click on "random page." The last few words of the last quote on that page will be your album's title. Finally, go to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.flickr.com/"&gt;tinyurl.com/9ydjk&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; and choose a photo to be your CD cover. Or, if you don't like what's there, click on the link for "Get more interesting photos for the last 7 days." (My band is Widemouth Blindcat, our album is "More Time for Dreaming," and our cover art is a spiral staircase from here: tinyurl.com/c89rt7.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;band name: atlante veneto&lt;br /&gt;album title: "a noun with a job"&lt;br /&gt;cd cover art:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KVMQSzU_f8Q/Se49EwM6jGI/AAAAAAAAAEI/nAc4OpANiQU/s1600-h/kitty.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 90px; height: 90px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KVMQSzU_f8Q/Se49EwM6jGI/AAAAAAAAAEI/nAc4OpANiQU/s320/kitty.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327262561093717090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-6120080344313976002?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/6120080344313976002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=6120080344313976002&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/6120080344313976002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/6120080344313976002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/04/brezsny-on-blog.html' title='brezsny-on-the-blog'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KVMQSzU_f8Q/Se480HWPdBI/AAAAAAAAAEA/O0OO9ziQEeA/s72-c/spaceball.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-1769671791960521570</id><published>2009-04-10T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T20:06:02.528-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='radical intimacy'/><title type='text'>saturation point</title><content type='html'>i'm tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we're talking the pick-a-fight-in-the-car-flash-point-moody tired.  there's been getting up shortly after 5 to get to work on time, to sit in front of a computer or tv studying for eight hours straight, which is so boring and mentally taxing to be absorbing so much info with no other stimulus that i keep passing out at work. then it's run to class on the other side of town outside portland (which takes maybe 40 mins, or an hour and a half depending on traffic), to either get a few bits of homework done before class...or run in breathless already late. then i catch what usually amounts to breakfast at 8:30pm, home to take a shower, and usually *d* comes over to hang out with me a while and make sure i get to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i fall asleep well, if late, and wake up happy in his arms. i have appointments and workshops on the weekends, real estate or other meetings/get-togethers during the week, school in the evenings, freak out about homework somewhere in there, never see my family (i'm the first out the door, last in), catch a shower every other day (when i'm lucky), and sometimes just opt to pass out rather than get a shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my room's a horrendous mess, and don't even ask me about the state of my car. i absolutely love my job, my co-workers, and my company. i love how i'm going to be helping so many people, with a company that still believes in integrity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;integrity is still huge with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm just tired. tonight is the first free night i've had in weeks, and i'm leaving a friend high and dry on her birthday just so i can stay in, answer email, blog, and unwind. i feel horrible. she came to my wonderful Rocky Horror Costume Party on my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i've been sitting here in my fuzzy pink robe, just stopping to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;feel&lt;/span&gt; the fabric. i haven't stopped to feel much lately. too busy. too focused. too tired. i want to take a hot shower, and curl up in my bed and watch Babylon 5, not answer my phone, not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;do&lt;/span&gt; anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the meantime my room needs cleaning, my car needs cleaning out, that cloak for *cc* needs crocheting, homework needs to be done, my bathroom needs scrubbing... all these things are screaming at me, and i feel wretched for wanting to cry mercy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but if i don't, i'm gonna pop a blood vessel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here's to taking time, listening to our bodies, and just being in the quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...quiet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-1769671791960521570?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/1769671791960521570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=1769671791960521570&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/1769671791960521570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/1769671791960521570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/04/saturation-point.html' title='saturation point'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-6663965347765600717</id><published>2009-03-31T21:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T21:49:06.366-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iGoddess'/><title type='text'>in a nutshell</title><content type='html'>you know those days where there's so much going on around you at once that you really can only hope to catch what's right in front of you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...yeah, it's kinda like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not that i'm complaining. not by a long shot. if anything, i created all of this wonderful, crazy chaos around me. for the longest, End of March loomed before me as this gargantuan tidal wave curling in white-capped inevitability over me. ever closer, ever more encompassing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last time, i'd mentioned the new job beginning. it's going really well, even after catching a lovely cold immediately before starting. yeah, that was a fun kick in the head. seriously, i'm meeting some really fun and nice people, learning a lot, and getting to know my way around the portland metro on a whole new scale. it's kinda neat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's also been my real estate group, which meets fairly often. we get together to discuss ROTH IRA's, tax liens, purchasing notes, and buying 100 houses in a year. i used to think that stuff was boring. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wall street week&lt;/span&gt; was on the television a lot growing up, and i avoided anything remotely related to it like the plague. but now i'm learning a ton, and it's just so dang fascinating! learning how to manipulate the solid concept of money is pretty damn neat-o, seeing how all the pieces can come together, all the myriad ways i'm going to turn that knowledge into freedom, power, and money is an incredible rush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i see now how i can quite literally &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pick and choose&lt;/span&gt; the path i'm going to take to be financially independent. and even now i'm seeing this ability manifesting. it's caused another small-yet-radical shift in my thinking. opportunities, probabilities, consequences, and my own abilities are shining like never before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hence my comment earlier about how i create all in my life. there've been a few social functions and have met a lot of new people. in particular, i met someone new through an old friend of mine. of course, knowing i'm single, he all but set me up...the bugger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...but i'm not complaining.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*grin*&lt;/span&gt;  actually, i find the whole thing rather cute. every available moment, we're together. after *m*, i gave up acknowledging my need for lots of touching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's something about being looked in the eye and told all those things i hold close to my heart that's...refreshing. someone's paying attention. i'm not all &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; difficult to read or understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spring term began today. and even still, i'm slightly apprehensive. i haven't set foot in a classroom in a decade. also, i'm my head i'm already feeling the time crunch. occasionally i've caught myself wondering if i've bitten off far more than i could chew, but i always end up asking when &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; i bitten off more than i could chew? and suddenly everything's okay again. nothing to do but forge ahead, and so i do. how often have i backed down from anything?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of backing down...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;recently i've gone through another series of character challenges, learning things about myself and being shown without doubt that i'm ready for wetter, wilder, and far more astounding challenges...whether i feel ready or not. (and i definitely &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;do not&lt;/span&gt; feel ready!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mainly, these challenges have everything to do with trust, surrender, and letting go. i know it may seem "surrender" and "letting go" are the same thing, but i assure you they're not. where surrender has everything to do with guarding my pride and protecting my ego, letting go is mostly about those deeper, earthier, long-buried aspects of the injured little girl inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last year i thought i had helped integrate her back into myself. and i know i did...in part. however, as i've grown outward and taken my abilities to a higher level, i've also uncovered a new trove of opportunities to strengthen my character (aka: i found more yayfun issues i need to work through).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know i'll always be in the process of growing and learning, i know this. but part of me despairs that i'll never be truly free of the results of my abuse. the negative messages i lived with all those years were things i consumed on a phenominally deep level. it's as if my personal development were akin to cleaning out a dark, dank basement. after cleaning out the clutter, scrubbing the walls, painting, putting in some light and making it beautiful, i then find a trap door leading to an even deeper sub-basement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the process begins again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whether or not i want to, whether or not i like it, i &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; to face it. unlike the situations i found myself in last year, there's a whole new caliber of intensity with this, and a whole new level of courage demanded of me. unfortunately, despite my rule here at iGoddess of absolute honesty and "hide nothing," i truly feel that posting it up here would be unsafe for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i'm setting up a new blog here in the next couple of weeks. it will have absolutely no association with iGoddess or the Funkywild. but i'll be posting these new things there. i simply feel that it could seriously damage my reputation both at work and online as i begin to grow what will become my real estate investment empire. it's just too personal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for all my lovely followers of iGoddess, if you would like to continue following my growth on the new blog, shoot me a personal email. there's one associated with this blog on my profile: igoddess [dot ] mail [at] gmail [dot ] com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;otherwise email me with any address you have, if you happen to have one of my personal addresses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you're a lurker, i'm sorry. i won't be giving this new blog to anyone i don't know. but i'll still be maintaining iGoddess, just not at my former frequency. time constraints being what they are for me now --between working at Orkin, my secondary job, a third job i'll be taking here in the near future, my real estate group, and this new aspect of my life-- it's simply not possible. plus, i want to focus on these new challenges of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as always, i thank everyone for the love and support that has been showered upon iGoddess. i'll continue to bring the Funkywild to all corners of the world far and wide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's simply time to take my growth to a whole new level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;may the Funk be with you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-6663965347765600717?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/6663965347765600717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=6663965347765600717&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/6663965347765600717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/6663965347765600717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/03/in-nutshell.html' title='in a nutshell'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2864708808295376991.post-8243909516253194492</id><published>2009-03-18T16:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T16:22:24.988-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='foodalicious'/><title type='text'>hello...is there anybody out there?</title><content type='html'>it's been a while since i've been here.  lots of things going on, and i've been focusing my writing elsewhere.  lots of time and energy have been going into getting ready for the End of March. i know the ides were a few days past, but instead of the 15th looming ahead like the dire warnings of a raving prophet, it's been the 23rd, and the 31st for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;finally&lt;/span&gt; start that new job with Orkin, so i'm really excited about that. i went to lane bryant today and bought a couple pairs of pants: one for work, and a black pair for me just because they looked so fantastic. i also got fitted for some new bras and realized i'd gone up a cup size!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;way to go, girls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my calendar is spattered everywhere with "cashflow" and "meetup" everywhere. i joined a group on &lt;a href="http://www.meetup.com"&gt;meetup.com&lt;/a&gt; for robert kiyosaki's Cashflow game, and it's really fun! not only that, but i'm meeting people who are just as serious as i am about real estate investing. i'm learning so much, and at such a phenominal rate! it makes things feel more possible for me, like what i want to do is not only well within reach, but so close it's almost frightening. i could be leaving work &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;permanently&lt;/span&gt; and investing full time within two years. kind of daunting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but oh, so exciting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and a couple months ago i ran into an old friend, and so i've been visiting with her and her husband (also a very good friend) and just getting back into the social scene. there are so many great people, and it feels really good to be treated like an intelligent, welcome adult. and being treated like a woman. and no one pounces on me just because i'm unattached, which is a real change of pace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gluten-free living is doing wonders for me, too. i've been gluten-free for well over a week.  the mental fog is gone, as are the debilitating migraines, the joint pain, the hellacious oh-gods-i'm-gonna-puke reflux, and the sinus pressure. i'm sleeping through the night even without my holosync cd's, which is astounding all by itself. and i've already gone down a jean size.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh. my. goddess! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's more, but i gotta run. i just wanted to say that i'm still here, i'm still alive, the diet is going strong, and life is beautiful! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you all, my lovely iVillage!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2864708808295376991-8243909516253194492?l=lillithdee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/feeds/8243909516253194492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2864708808295376991&amp;postID=8243909516253194492&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/8243909516253194492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2864708808295376991/posts/default/8243909516253194492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lillithdee.blogspot.com/2009/03/hellois-there-anybody-out-there.html' title='hello...is there anybody out there?'/><author><name>iGoddess' evil shoe-loving twin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04850702763469159461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16068200050021916664'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry></feed>