All I want for Christmas

Might as well aim high; this is what I would ask for from Santa. Don’t judge, we all have wish lists.

We’ll start with the external:

World peace
Global understanding that mental health isn’t just a health issue, it’s THE  health issue that needs to be addressed because all behavior stems from it.
Spaceships for everyone
More feasting, more parties, more dancing
Books everywhere
Energy channeled into more awesome human adventures
A better option for POTUS
Better treatment of women worldwide

And the completely selfish:

A book publishing deal and/or sell tons of books from self publishing, be able to financially afford leaving job, a street legal off-road motorcycle, a great digital camera, ski gear, a tattoo to cover up old scars, snow, fuzzy slippers, Smart Wool and Kevlar fabric for sewing, hot chocolate with marshmallows, foster kids (prob need a home for all of us too), a few dogs and cats, a sailboat and a truck to pull it, and some amazing Hallmark-moment warm and fuzzy holiday miracles – the kind that spread happiness like ripples in a pond. And tons of money so I can give it all away and pay forward even more.

Thank you Santa!

All the Christmas songs ever sung or played

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Persistence over gravity

My victim training left me with a fiery instinctive attraction and sometimes automatic submission to domineering men, but with a pure and intense terror of what destroyers they can be. I know this well. But it’s also my fault for giving in; especially in this instance when the dude’s just being his same douchebag self.

He asked if I was afraid of commitment; maybe, but I’m more afraid of it with him. The dude is abusive in the exact same way as my primary abusers were for all those years. Nothing except art can capture the agony of dealing with those same awful mind games again. It’s distressing beyond words and worse since he knows that he got to me, and he won’t stop.

I want to believe the best in people, that they want to be better, do better just like I’m working on all the time.  I forget that not everyone is like that, and certainly not that dude. He has classic traits, deeply familial similarities, and the dangerous comfort of feeling like home. I can’t help feeling like he’s karmic or whatever punishment for the whole thing with the pilots.  Although God/Goddess/FSM/BSOC knows, I have a whole list of sins that could have gotten me to this. Really though, it’s just habits, and habits can be broken. Well, and I’m also thinking about moving and changing my phone number.

Speaking of that, Dear God/Goddess/FSM/BSOC:

Help me push harder against complacency, gravity, hermit status, and bad habits. Help me develop the wisdom to pay it forward enough to ease the pain of my past. Please show me the path to strength for battle against lingering habits. And I would love that one delicious firefighter for the holidays – as a motivator to continue the good work?


Wild Horses – Gino Vannelli
Tired Of Being Sorry – Ringside
(I Just) Died In Your Arms – Cutting Crew
Let It Be – The Beatles


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Adventure on

I finally found an adventure partner who’s a total gear hound with mad mechanical skills. So happy right now. It’s amazing the amount of people in life who go from work to home with little variation and no adventures. Life is a complete adventure, but you have to get out and participate in it. There are quite a few things that I would like to do where I need a safety buddy, and it’s convenient to have someone on speed dial for adventures, so to speak. Bonus that he’s unmarried with no kids, and he understands the importance of being a good friend before anything else. I’ve known him for a few years now so I know his quirks and personality. I already know he’s great to go skiing with and he totally helped me replace the fuel filter on my car.

It’s not romantic or anything like that at least on my end, because it’s so much better. Romance gets me in trouble – case in point would be the last dude who was such a narcissistic disaster. At this point in time, I prefer an adventure partner. He’s got my back, thinks I look beautiful no matter how dressed up sparkly or dressed down muddy messy I am, and we’re both into getting out and reveling in all the fun shit we can do. That may not be love, but it’s pretty damn perfect right about now.

Love An Adventure – Pseudo Echo

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Touch Sensitive – part dos

So much energy can be exchanged in just a touch. Adult human contact and connection are powerful. I love it;  but it seems like dudes mostly just want to take that energy, not realizing that sharing it makes it stronger. Power in numbers, it’s basic math. Which is why also humans working together can do unbelievable things. #spaceships #wine #disco

The dude is back at it; he’s always so much drama. I sure wish this one would leave me alone. I’m thinking should I move? Should I finally change my phone number? I go back and forth on it, and then I go up and down on it and oh my goodness I need more human contact so I won’t be tempted, no wonder he won’t stop pestering me. Dating for an empath= brutal. Because if you touch me with the right energy, I’ll probably melt on the spot.

I Melt With You – Modern English

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The hot tub seemed like the perfect place to watch the supermoon move across the sky, but I was foiled by clouds. Instead I floated in the water and thought about the playlist of songs that have been stuck in my head. After the crazy week they soothe my soul and they help me pray that as soon as the moon is waning, humans will calm the hell back down. One can hope.

I kinda want to go outside and howl it out for a while; like some primitive prayer to the heavens. Some things are beyond my speech capabilities. Luckily there are many brilliant people who know how to make all that shit into music. My playlist should really be a zillion songs long today, but it’s easier to just use these two catchy ones.

Love to all, and may this powerful moon bring wild and wonderful magic into all our lives.

All We Ever Knew – The Head and the Heart
Parachute – Chris Stapleton

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Money Money Money

Losing almost everything in the fire barely bothers me, except for a little twinge here and there. I haven’t even had the interest to go through the boxes of what they were able to salvage. It’s all sitting in a new storage unit, neatly stacked and waiting for I don’t know what. Material shit can be lovely, but it means nothing. I’d much rather have friends, family, wonderful adventures.

The only thing that I had a hard time losing this year is my camera that was a gift from my crazy ex-boss, and I have no idea where it went – it wasn’t in the fire. But it was one of my favorite art mediums and I feel raw and lost without it, like losing the ability to speak another language. Maybe now that my bankruptcy is done, I can actually replace it. That’s kind of an exciting idea.

Given the option of having a little money, or even a lot, there’s few things as awesome as art supplies and good gear. And if you get good deals, then you can get more gear for the same budget. Sweet! A waterproof backpack I can run with and a camera – those are on my current dreamy wishlist. They aren’t necessary tools, but so helpful since a roving writer must be prepared at all times.

I’m ok and used to making do with whatever I can. It all pales in comparison when you’ve been so depressed that you let go. Since I was lucky enough to come back from that point, I’m grateful for everything. Money is just a game, and I keep score in a completely different way.

It’s extra funny that the dude tries so hard to convince me that he has no money, and he doesn’t have any clue that I really don’t care. I’ve dated dudes with way more money who were actually into me and I see what it can get you, but there’s so much more to life. Try losing everything, it gives such a lovely sense of perspective.

Money, Money, Money – ABBA
The Fiddler on the Roof
Can’t Buy My Love – Barbara Lynn
Rockin Pneumonia – Johnny Rivers

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Backseat driver

Dammit. I guess I’m a nasty woman too. We crawled into the backseat and clothes went flying enough to make a connection. Just off a main street, windows fogging over, hands everywhere, trying not to scream with the pleasure. Trying not to think about how many other women he’s seeing, while he’s still trying to convince me to date him again. I know too well how it goes though and while I love being in a solid relationship, it’s never going to be with him and all his secrecy. However, it was a diverting way to spend the evening – women aren’t supposed to say it but with a good partner and with my consent I LOVE SEX.

Better Be Home Soon – Crowded House

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RIP Leonard Cohen

What a wonderful gift he has been in my life. There aren’t enough words to describe how much I love his music, his voice. I love to lie in the dark and listen to him sing, a glass of red wine in hand, firelight flickering, warm voice wrapping around my heart and soul. What a powerful inspiration. I love you forever Leonard.

Hallelujiah – Leonard Cohen

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Insomnia playlist

I love and hate them, those hours before dawn. When sleep is a dim impossibility, and my head is overflowing the second I wake up a little after 1:00am.

I was so excited to write all day today, and when the time came I was too twitchy and anxious to sit still. Then not only was I not able to write even though not doing so felt like dying – I was feeling extra awful because I haven’t been managing my anxiety very well and I feel like I’m on fire with it pretty much all the time, it’s distracting. Concentration is shot to hell, I make stupid mistakes, and holy shit I need a distraction from my distraction. How much better life would be if I could channel it better, but instead I feel like there’s been an explosion in the file cabinet of my brain and I spend my whole life trying to organize that shit again. I don’t often miss the pills, but oh my stars the Ritalin versions did amazing things for my concentration. And my sleep.

Not sure what to think about the songs running through my head at 3 in the morning, but here they are:


The Radio – Vince Gill
Four in the Morning – Night Ranger
Tower of Song – Leonard Cohen
Bad Decisions – Two Door Cinema Club
Gold – Spandau Ballet
Boys of Summer – The Ataris

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Music for my muse

Oh my love, let me sing a song for you. I will put letters and words together in new and improved ways, will combine notes to make you swoon with love and lust. Then you can hum, sing, purr the music back to me in a rhythmic melodic stream. Waves of sound tickling the eardrums, rippling across airwaves, space, time, parallel universes.

Somewhere in there is the story I want to tell you. The plot drops word by word onto the page, thrilling me with the creation, searing me with blue reminders of what life isn’t – what only exists at the end of a pen or paintbrush.

Every song I’ve ever heard plus those that I haven’t

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