tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-275663602024-03-07T12:19:09.276-08:00Nanaimo BlahgPiglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh," he whispered.
"Yes, Piglet?" "Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw, "I just wanted to be sure of you."dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.comBlogger704125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-68441676869501246632011-01-10T18:38:00.000-08:002011-01-10T18:40:30.282-08:00i haven't forgotten<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf3jI1XXmTMY7cd6M8hxlA0uI0BMmHksuAx88pw5dkag9RpJcSq2dKMnJI-rlmZTaOAwPAgsp_638b_3DecP5jQHXLGK2hPZUNKtSgZOiRNeaDeW9MQqsnJt3L78sTLQpnpBDcrQ/s1600/book2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf3jI1XXmTMY7cd6M8hxlA0uI0BMmHksuAx88pw5dkag9RpJcSq2dKMnJI-rlmZTaOAwPAgsp_638b_3DecP5jQHXLGK2hPZUNKtSgZOiRNeaDeW9MQqsnJt3L78sTLQpnpBDcrQ/s320/book2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560752181713838658" /></a>dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-5267326221233410822011-01-03T20:49:00.000-08:002011-01-03T20:56:01.609-08:00it's just thisnanaimo blahg may need a new name...cuz i find i still want to talk about shit(pardon my french that isn't french) but i really have to find a new format.dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-53030017127439257842010-08-20T16:16:00.000-07:002010-08-20T16:21:30.153-07:00movin' on up? m'eh. not so muchjust passed Lefty...two blocks from here at the off-leash dog park....probably selling meth or crack to whomever he was with in the shade. i know him well enough to know it's him. so should Nanaimo RCMP. he used to sell out front or out back of our last house...all the time, or hit those newbies to the street with extra up for freebies.... he thought he knew me, i could tell by how he looked at me....just couldn't place me. we've had plenty of words. plenty of altercations... i thought we'd moved up? we've spent a lot of money to get out of there....so?!? now what?dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-14993894572033573222010-08-10T15:13:00.000-07:002010-08-10T15:26:56.861-07:00caution, post contains dead pigeon.don't say i didn't warn you.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit4HZI3lxSDHh2zsqBjG45qzlzswvriq77YZRDBdH95iCEkma0x-dXpW1rbBi5N4vfkYXM-uUQvJKO1uQvQuihpW-aeOEFaIGUTMg5pNqq-kLOdtVBbRyX4wKXVA7bVIZcX-lGiw/s1600/P8080016.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit4HZI3lxSDHh2zsqBjG45qzlzswvriq77YZRDBdH95iCEkma0x-dXpW1rbBi5N4vfkYXM-uUQvJKO1uQvQuihpW-aeOEFaIGUTMg5pNqq-kLOdtVBbRyX4wKXVA7bVIZcX-lGiw/s320/P8080016.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503908827817406034" /></a><br />this is at the kiddie park around the corner from here yesterday morning...i don't really know my birds(although that mass of feathers on the ground is definitely one dead pigeon), but i think it may be a peregrine falcon. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBY0PxZfnmUIuiDCLajKFIoe2yQruwLFNRDIhMW6gWInYFbRCkaAIDfalFK8OhEZn4HiFJrzJCp9HlQvggIdgsre50TkHb70g_4BKjpxCpUMbKdtLzCi4NDcn8AloRc37cm8Td-Q/s1600/P8080012.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBY0PxZfnmUIuiDCLajKFIoe2yQruwLFNRDIhMW6gWInYFbRCkaAIDfalFK8OhEZn4HiFJrzJCp9HlQvggIdgsre50TkHb70g_4BKjpxCpUMbKdtLzCi4NDcn8AloRc37cm8Td-Q/s320/P8080012.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503908576696797426" /></a><br />and although it's kind of gruesome that it's killing ground this particular morning was about 3 feet from the playground equipment....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOpLKjDU88sTRvcV3bCIbDnZXdlOKFYLuD1sA5ODbb-wbq0jJnWfBHUSDlxU6mQyFvgAAckttfaddALgu903y7eb-Vg5-sWc5SmYw4uXdFOe_8zV5cQ7PIlytXuzDPSGuthH_tgw/s1600/P8080004.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOpLKjDU88sTRvcV3bCIbDnZXdlOKFYLuD1sA5ODbb-wbq0jJnWfBHUSDlxU6mQyFvgAAckttfaddALgu903y7eb-Vg5-sWc5SmYw4uXdFOe_8zV5cQ7PIlytXuzDPSGuthH_tgw/s320/P8080004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503908182365892866" /></a><br />i still think it's pretty freaking cool.dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-32741935635952665082010-07-24T21:05:00.000-07:002010-07-24T21:25:55.492-07:00what does it mean????<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvm2pb_dUy1boRtyKKUs70kZzMDIg-RPoNvn7CGM_t73JEEdXVfjpvhwiT-o3kQ7P_71xH23BWbB1jjk1G3cTBF06ucUlyCJnVp8owZzqP_m6Y4ACQ-C3AxcMLeAth269m48vdzw/s1600/nph-double-rainbow.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvm2pb_dUy1boRtyKKUs70kZzMDIg-RPoNvn7CGM_t73JEEdXVfjpvhwiT-o3kQ7P_71xH23BWbB1jjk1G3cTBF06ucUlyCJnVp8owZzqP_m6Y4ACQ-C3AxcMLeAth269m48vdzw/s320/nph-double-rainbow.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497692704018709586" /></a><br /><br /><br />that's what i'm trying to find out.....but it feels like the closer i get to my truth...ya know, via(my trapped in let's look everywhere else but at reality mind) mind altering drugs and therapy, the harder and harder it is to hold my tongue. you know, i have absolutely ranted here....about things and people that mean little or nothing. for the rest, i have always adhered to "can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." you know, no matter what they say about me. but i am a grown up. i should absolutely be able to speak my mind without feeling cowardice, or maliciousness, or guilt. i mean, games are games, and ridiculousness is ridiculousness when other people have to live with it, too. i mean, not just me. apparently, i can put up with more than most...<br />seems a little late to be learning such things. but damn........i really think i am going to hate things when the things i've always wanted to say start really flowing.......dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-22125978394357115692010-07-20T15:50:00.000-07:002010-07-20T20:26:33.787-07:00i didn't think this would be my day today<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbeCR7m8SWwx20j7CPigLDXe1I4m8IHeaNkTUVrB5aU7dimZkCSUr2jJbRcHq8n7Wa1UReb8upBSiMjTABqeAXbxn6KMwCikL2myp_iKVB_l0qC5NPCcWQqwF2Cu8gxYHGVAXpBw/s1600/P6290003.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbeCR7m8SWwx20j7CPigLDXe1I4m8IHeaNkTUVrB5aU7dimZkCSUr2jJbRcHq8n7Wa1UReb8upBSiMjTABqeAXbxn6KMwCikL2myp_iKVB_l0qC5NPCcWQqwF2Cu8gxYHGVAXpBw/s320/P6290003.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496130196427875490" /></a><br />my friend called to say her cat was sick. i knew it was more. he'd been sick the last week or so. tragically sick. vet visits, hope, no hope, try this try that...<br />i knocked on her door. she let me in....and i knew. i knew she needed help with a decision. this cat, this wonderful orange-coloured tomcat soul had been my neighbour long before i knew my friend. the previous owners of the house were my neighbours, and i've written about this cat before. they sold and moved and a most delightful couple moved in two doors down. one year later, the cat came back. he loved his home so much.<br />he arrived the day after my friend and neighbour lost a precious soul. he arrived, walked in the door, and provided a comfort few people could.<br />now? with a new precious soul in the works, and blooming, i guess he found his calling over with. it's as if his work was done. he came home, made his peace and blessing known....and when all things seemed on the right track, he decided to leave. <br />but it was a magical story...<br />and we loved him.<br />we love him.<br />we love his orange-coloured tomcat soul.<br />i drove them to the vet.<br />i sat with them.<br />i waited for his last breath....reliving the ache it will cause.<br />we drove him home.<br />dug a hole. found a porcelain doorknob in the hole. seemed fitting considering the first thing my friend had read this morning was that thing about when god closes a door......<br />wrapped in love, in history, in legend, and a pink towel, this little-giant orange coloured soul was covered in dirt in the yard of the home he loved so much. so much real comfort from such a tiny thing. who could ever guess what messages a little furry thing might bring? <br />that something so small could hold so much.<br />miracles happen, in both happy and sad ways.<br />he purred.through it all.<br />it breaks my heart.dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-48241618128494932012010-07-10T21:26:00.000-07:002010-07-10T21:31:32.785-07:00yesstill here...trying to restructure...<br />trying to gather thoughts...<br />trying to decide how honest to be...<br />as honesty, lately, has not actually proven to be the best policy.<br />i'd like to come back.<br />i just need to........i don't know what i need to do.........<br />except that i am sure i need to be back here.<br />just that timing....timing....honesty....honesty....worry worry.dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-74370535990809672792010-07-06T20:51:00.001-07:002010-07-06T20:51:42.905-07:00well, okay then...dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-80011948581276235072010-06-29T21:03:00.000-07:002010-06-29T21:08:56.049-07:00omg<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEvZ4QSgY4cfrI7BTB-QB2QURrNiIknvZHStaW1zAU-Lt0NB196F3x5SVBgFhWcijtF1TwZ1MWw1j_ybiHDBXeuzi-BPigK9qpjmA_IHgnyy6iG_5KH02lHKAeCL-lua9zq9F-bg/s1600/train-wreck.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEvZ4QSgY4cfrI7BTB-QB2QURrNiIknvZHStaW1zAU-Lt0NB196F3x5SVBgFhWcijtF1TwZ1MWw1j_ybiHDBXeuzi-BPigK9qpjmA_IHgnyy6iG_5KH02lHKAeCL-lua9zq9F-bg/s320/train-wreck.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488413592071621394" /></a><br />omg omg omg...<br />seriously.<br />how much damage can one person do?<br />and no, before you ask, it's not me.<br />i just had to say it out loud. so to speak. <br />you know, just to say SOMETHING. <br />ANYTHING.dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-27036905894062796152010-06-28T10:20:00.000-07:002010-06-28T10:27:10.964-07:00today is eem-er's 7th birthday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNhH7VBCM09MU_XwXGIve6ySo-ZKJw81bJ8nwVr9dGdFHy-Kwo4Ly_0OyV33HcdxTHWLfpPcdFCVb2-k0UwinnXAjVJFPwKmViF5IwyCI8uvcGzcO6Vw6BQ8xIA6SU1fWL_z467A/s1600/P6270014.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNhH7VBCM09MU_XwXGIve6ySo-ZKJw81bJ8nwVr9dGdFHy-Kwo4Ly_0OyV33HcdxTHWLfpPcdFCVb2-k0UwinnXAjVJFPwKmViF5IwyCI8uvcGzcO6Vw6BQ8xIA6SU1fWL_z467A/s320/P6270014.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487875944650403554" /></a><br />and i am so grateful for the extra time, her check-up last month was good. <br />today, my friend lost his dog, his longtime companion...i remember that pain. actually, "remember" is not the right word for it. i still live it. <br />so i feel the slightest bit guilty about "celebrating" eem-er's birthday...but? it also reminds me of the need to.<br />so sorry, my friend. but kippur is where he will be young and healthy forever. and he's got good company over there while he waits.dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-90766182113133142742010-06-25T19:22:00.000-07:002010-06-25T19:29:15.467-07:00the absurdityis the ache in my brain...mostly.<br />work for a big company and it's "the man, the machine" that gets to you.<br />work for a small company and it's actually a man, or two...or ya know, a woman. or two. <br />look at the bigger picture of life? it's overwhelming.<br />try to take one day at time? too limiting.<br />i stumble around trying to think that i overthink things.<br />that it's me.<br />but you know what?<br />i see things just fine.<br />i see the the absurdity.<br />and that, that is what causes the ache.dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-21968869359692644262010-06-19T19:14:00.001-07:002010-06-19T20:16:24.073-07:00tomorrow is my daddy's day.....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDtKaxcVdw3Cv1sa8ISZM7xVtvjc_-ql8MlkUDPEHLmPOrBbi5BSLK9jhohdWi-ZZt4lQGnN2TnpNWwd8eQ1k2JlFLuURmpNnaN5AnJtCErkNOLbQ1vLgQ4h1XRpyfJMd5xGnfaQ/s1600/dad1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 301px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDtKaxcVdw3Cv1sa8ISZM7xVtvjc_-ql8MlkUDPEHLmPOrBbi5BSLK9jhohdWi-ZZt4lQGnN2TnpNWwd8eQ1k2JlFLuURmpNnaN5AnJtCErkNOLbQ1vLgQ4h1XRpyfJMd5xGnfaQ/s320/dad1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484674631350417970" /></a><br />dad, we didn't always know each other....you had a whole life before me....of adventure and growing up kids and mom(bless you)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFzUw9ND6119okZs93cW6IkQ8wYGPxsDyDokeeYUHGhER2D4_1fLQNz1h6Gy7oV0A-_o_VeZWqXJ_uTyySdSNLQkm-lT10qNuG2lGn3W5TqB4m5DekYTHisJRBl0VubmOZp6c0Sg/s1600/dad2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 257px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFzUw9ND6119okZs93cW6IkQ8wYGPxsDyDokeeYUHGhER2D4_1fLQNz1h6Gy7oV0A-_o_VeZWqXJ_uTyySdSNLQkm-lT10qNuG2lGn3W5TqB4m5DekYTHisJRBl0VubmOZp6c0Sg/s320/dad2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484674531067579298" /></a> <br />full of your own history and decisions and what worked and didn't....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHGN6mtV7xx8rrwxV2bRGFdkOlKNUPgb6Dn97GlvhkYAE9rYioK29MVJf7BZ2eR-RJk2NmHNe2oRGcNjJg4EnH86KoSTdCW3xJgGJl6NLpTAomkGzhfKMDFQohvpqXZ6cVIrOThQ/s1600/dad3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHGN6mtV7xx8rrwxV2bRGFdkOlKNUPgb6Dn97GlvhkYAE9rYioK29MVJf7BZ2eR-RJk2NmHNe2oRGcNjJg4EnH86KoSTdCW3xJgGJl6NLpTAomkGzhfKMDFQohvpqXZ6cVIrOThQ/s320/dad3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484674423715362258" /></a><br />and i know we've had some hard times seeing eye to eye...i'd like to think it's cuz we're so alike...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP4J5h847B5QzREslZ9Bd9N312FJYeKk2CB0KeADwEr8iQsOcYoxu4o7E2hZPONAx83W0cH-ndsiVXccZk645Chv6XGAiHSKmIugcAhRbRUMVdvtfXbaZ1_erO4plTHnxy2gTMEw/s1600/dad4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP4J5h847B5QzREslZ9Bd9N312FJYeKk2CB0KeADwEr8iQsOcYoxu4o7E2hZPONAx83W0cH-ndsiVXccZk645Chv6XGAiHSKmIugcAhRbRUMVdvtfXbaZ1_erO4plTHnxy2gTMEw/s320/dad4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484674206699581474" /></a><br />but honestly? as every day passes? i love you more.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAMkuDsxTetvLxLqdiV30_vlJEkHV5wTqIAugKQ_eP-ue0QLUrDTM9_pqV0FBOS_gSzt2-fVMKrqBXmyEKeZgme4kSHErIPt2KVHnkuEe1AuhtbefgP93xjW5wIGcyDPRRCZfvaQ/s1600/dad5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAMkuDsxTetvLxLqdiV30_vlJEkHV5wTqIAugKQ_eP-ue0QLUrDTM9_pqV0FBOS_gSzt2-fVMKrqBXmyEKeZgme4kSHErIPt2KVHnkuEe1AuhtbefgP93xjW5wIGcyDPRRCZfvaQ/s320/dad5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484674099404100242" /></a><br />and every time i listen to a willie nelson song, i hear your voice singing to me....and maybe you don't know how often i listen to willie but it's like, literally, every day....and? also? American Pie by don mclean....i remember sitting in the passenger seat of some blue american built car while you sang...it's a vivid, beautiful memory....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Nk2u6l_M7S2jf6-g8GBmY507cZSIAMsmgjfCXZbxmAWGvylTHuYVf1BL_pwS9MEk3gAKXqL88bDYRoyS4WDR_vSn9bZP6eP5tKdqHcLlgCCMV1rf7Na4Run7tsy_qIBVuei1Dw/s1600/dad6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Nk2u6l_M7S2jf6-g8GBmY507cZSIAMsmgjfCXZbxmAWGvylTHuYVf1BL_pwS9MEk3gAKXqL88bDYRoyS4WDR_vSn9bZP6eP5tKdqHcLlgCCMV1rf7Na4Run7tsy_qIBVuei1Dw/s320/dad6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484673893884905346" /></a><br />and i miss you lots, every day.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiBx6ZxF9I8_z5ayfLtQbv7KcDrFqfLJMNojEnTuagE5QHWvZIx_nHJTr0KKkHwK4_TIrlJBHpst847S4G-vkFggyI17iQg-HcAMUyE-IFy5zipOg5tplfQ8vtyXdf8Z0fjLNNhg/s1600/dad7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 313px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiBx6ZxF9I8_z5ayfLtQbv7KcDrFqfLJMNojEnTuagE5QHWvZIx_nHJTr0KKkHwK4_TIrlJBHpst847S4G-vkFggyI17iQg-HcAMUyE-IFy5zipOg5tplfQ8vtyXdf8Z0fjLNNhg/s320/dad7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484673778419292738" /></a><br />so yeah....shit happened. so what? <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioNX4AHtZjTxvEo1Q6BQyQLYPt4h3fFAm_vgmHqccHd50zug_EyatSu9HtcgG-Z9H7rf-9p4fppKSITc6vpjLqjTpiEe-DGj43r_LwGj9hjOJZyWc0NhbQc7fQ5hsh0nE4Ck9TNA/s1600/dad8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioNX4AHtZjTxvEo1Q6BQyQLYPt4h3fFAm_vgmHqccHd50zug_EyatSu9HtcgG-Z9H7rf-9p4fppKSITc6vpjLqjTpiEe-DGj43r_LwGj9hjOJZyWc0NhbQc7fQ5hsh0nE4Ck9TNA/s320/dad8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484673658921393586" /></a><br />i can't believe how much your eyes light up when one of us, your children or grandchildren, walk into a room where you are....it is most beautific. it is one of the greatest gifts. thank you.<br /> you gave me great siblings, and colourful aunts and uncles and memories, stories that weren't mine but now are....it wasn't always easy, for either of us, for any of us, but that has meant the lessons learned were more heartfelt. thank you.<br />Daddy, i love you. Hoping it's another beautiful Father's Day. Wish i was home, so much more than you might imagine. i'll be home soon, tho. <br />loveloveloveabsolutelovedillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-24707335280390938652010-06-08T16:50:00.000-07:002010-06-08T16:52:24.115-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9mbQSYB6338AkGRo5izdr1x9cW56wkmgluxmoIuuUx66YKvcSW7g_9_xTMZ4wrM9o-SpSQU3MNrCag1sVvHbJWC1wMi1EcumGfbk07DJdA4SHeT4L8o_6gancDPs4NZv1ohXOZA/s1600/001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9mbQSYB6338AkGRo5izdr1x9cW56wkmgluxmoIuuUx66YKvcSW7g_9_xTMZ4wrM9o-SpSQU3MNrCag1sVvHbJWC1wMi1EcumGfbk07DJdA4SHeT4L8o_6gancDPs4NZv1ohXOZA/s320/001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480554940223970178" /></a>dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-14049960587778058652010-06-03T16:41:00.000-07:002010-06-03T16:55:03.259-07:00you know it's just this thing in my headbut maybe there's something wrong with my headdillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-87949266914320628652010-05-31T18:06:00.000-07:002010-05-31T18:08:11.584-07:00<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vIDyGTD6EZw&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vIDyGTD6EZw&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object> <br /> <br /> <br />Link Us!<br />Link - Websites & Blogs:<br /> <br />Embed - Websites & Blogs:<br /> <br /><br /><br /> Put Our Scroller on your Page!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Blood And Fire� lyrics translation:<br />INDIGO GIRLS Blood And Fire� song texte and letras<br />INDIGO GIRLS Blood And Fire� tab, paroles and testo<br />INDIGO GIRLS Blood And Fire� Karaoke and Music Video - none yet<br /><br /> <br /><br />A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z # <br />New lyrics <br /> <br />Artists/Songs to search lyrics for: <br /><br /><br /><br />Blood And Fire� lyrics <br /><br /> Send "Blood And Fire�" Ringtone to your Cell <br /><br />i have spent nights with matches and knives<br />leaning over ledges only two flights up<br />cutting my heart, burning my soul<br />nothing left to hold<br />nothing left but blood and fire<br />you have spent nights thinking of me<br />missing my arms but you needed to leave<br />leaving my cuts, leaving my burns<br />hoping i`d learn<br />but blood and fire<br />are too much for these restless arms to hold<br />and my nights of desire they`re calling me<br />back to your fold<br />and i am calling you, calling you<br />from 10,000 miles away<br />won`t you whet my fire with your love<br />babe<br />i am looking for someone who can take as much as i give<br />and give back as much as i need<br />you know and they still have the will to live ah no<br />cause i am intense, i am in need<br />i am in pain, i am in love<br />and i feel forsaken you know<br />like the things i gave away<br />and blood and fire<br />are too much for these restless arms to hold<br />and my nights of desire they`re calling me<br />back to your fold<br />and i am calling you, calling you<br />from 10,000 miles away<br />won`t you whet my fire with your love<br />babe, babe, babe<br />i am intense, i am in need, i am in pain, i am in love<br />you know i am intense, i am in need, i am in pain, i am in love<br />i am intense, i am in need, i am in pain, i am in love<br />and blood and fire<br />are too much for these restless arms to hold<br />and my nights of desire they`re calling me<br />back to your fold<br />and i am calling you, calling you<br />from 10,000 miles away<br />won`t you whet my fire with your love<br />babe<br />won`t you whet my fire with your love<br />babe now<br />whet my fire with your lovedillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-77181104484773279732010-05-31T11:28:00.000-07:002010-05-31T11:29:15.900-07:00<object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/D7o7BrlbaDs&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/D7o7BrlbaDs&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object>dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-54007705123413165552010-05-25T21:24:00.000-07:002010-05-25T21:47:36.027-07:00what saves me most of all is the music....it's finding that somebody has the words to say the things i cannot...<br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/O5TwpGq_q6M&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/O5TwpGq_q6M&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />it gives me hope when others find the words i want....<br /> <object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QWDlnvew5jA&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QWDlnvew5jA&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />and the message i'd like to send along, and believe in...<br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qybUFnY7Y8w&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qybUFnY7Y8w&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object>dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-45451526160583486142010-05-24T15:31:00.001-07:002010-05-24T16:09:07.600-07:00i pray, tooOh look at how she listens <br />She says nothing of what she thinks <br />She just goes stumbling through her memories <br />Staring out onto Grey St. <br />And she thinks...hey <br />How did I come to this <br />I dreamed myself thousand times around the world <br />But I can't get out of this place <br />There's an emptiness inside her <br />And she'd do anything to fill it in <br />But all the colors mix together <br />To grey, and it breaks her heart <br /><br />Oh how she wishes it was different <br />She prays to God most every night <br />And though she swears He doesn't listen <br />There's still a hope in her He might <br />She says I pray <br />But my prayers, they falls on deaf ears <br />Am I supposed to take it on myself <br />To get out of this place <br />There's a loneliness inside her <br />And she'd do anything to fill it in <br />And though it's red blood bleeding from her now, <br />It feels like cold blue ice in her heart <br />When all the colors mix together <br />It's grey, and it breaks her heart <br /><br />There's a stranger speaks outside her door <br />Says take what you can from your dreams <br />Make them real as anything <br />It will take the work out of the courage <br />She says please <br />There's a crazy man creeping that's outside my door <br />I live on the corner of Grey Street <br />And the end of the world <br /><br />Oh there's an emptiness insider her <br />And she'd do anything to fill it in <br />And though it's red blood bleeding from her now <br />It's more like cold blue ice in her heart <br />She feels like kicking out all the windows <br />And setting fire to this life <br />She could change everything about her <br />Using colors bold and bright <br />But all the colors mix together <br />To grey <br />And it breaks her heart...Oh and it breaks her heart <br />To grey, Yeah...<br /><br /><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gZyQjQclmH0&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gZyQjQclmH0&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object>dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-85319350341979807682010-05-18T15:33:00.000-07:002010-05-18T20:19:39.456-07:00I'm sorry, did i mention i was going to see Martin?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvTYpCD9u-sxVYGeXc_BZnrLwsoynmv9zyNHq9jpVzycluQTW0VJOzNztEQKE86j8x83ODJKw7hR0C-KTetLdeLAmIsJSd4bSrVyZPRwt52D9Qu71oDvqholMfXzFfWwPzvnbJg/s1600/P5140151.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvTYpCD9u-sxVYGeXc_BZnrLwsoynmv9zyNHq9jpVzycluQTW0VJOzNztEQKE86j8x83ODJKw7hR0C-KTetLdeLAmIsJSd4bSrVyZPRwt52D9Qu71oDvqholMfXzFfWwPzvnbJg/s320/P5140151.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472743758994338082" /></a><br />No stalking incidence this time...only because Michael said we should stay on the bus one more stop so we wouldn't have to walk so far...as soon as the bus pulled out of the Burrard Street stop on route to the Howe Street stop?!? There was Martin(seriously, no lie!!!!), walking down Robson Street with a coffee in his hand, talking to someone next to him. If we'd gotten out at Burrard? We would've walked right into him and the fact that i had carried his newest cd and a sharpie easily accessible wouldn't have seemed so sad. Damn, damn, damn.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_WPlaB4RMdrOOsBXWzkhnmnFPm5TRLWia8SL7mKfpNNRVyL-VXi_pUVGbz_dkNfV6-qh6Dy4qpiTTQfxVV_IQPjrbpg577mtefA8zM7oEz2OxB7HCSzXCohr-nABqB6lT898hA/s1600/P5140134.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_WPlaB4RMdrOOsBXWzkhnmnFPm5TRLWia8SL7mKfpNNRVyL-VXi_pUVGbz_dkNfV6-qh6Dy4qpiTTQfxVV_IQPjrbpg577mtefA8zM7oEz2OxB7HCSzXCohr-nABqB6lT898hA/s320/P5140134.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472743432109566770" /></a><br />And the whole Commodore experience???? the sound was excellent, no complaints there....the fact that we "reserved a table for $30 in exchange for the idea that we'd spend that on drinks and dinner?" idea...false advertising. fuck the commodore. we paid $30 for the table and were still expected to pay for drinks and dinner? no frickin' way. we made our way to the closest front line of Martin we could, abandoning our table.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcz4deolPtBqmQusKxCH4pmHKzllAdIV-vsgu7FtYlQ57N5vEBLWtHGAWmfruFddMp2YX5Ed8BbGF8a8sajhlZdWBtwZmrenzs1JomwlfRNX4J_KN66FpnI0yhOFw3Wl5DnN5qpw/s1600/P5130123.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcz4deolPtBqmQusKxCH4pmHKzllAdIV-vsgu7FtYlQ57N5vEBLWtHGAWmfruFddMp2YX5Ed8BbGF8a8sajhlZdWBtwZmrenzs1JomwlfRNX4J_KN66FpnI0yhOFw3Wl5DnN5qpw/s320/P5130123.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472743189932677474" /></a><br />and Martin? of course, he was Martin. Unbelievable live. You just don't know until you experience it...experience him. he makes you feel differently about folk, about gospel, about rock...how the music IS the experience, not the "show"....not the media, not the notariety, not the whatever...actually? You forget all about the word "whatever." He reminds us what the movement of music is supposed to be...no media, no weird hysteria(except mine?!?)<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUkkEEttjzjpj89DWPT-qrdPlPHb7fc5p4NEMjcXZjPlX68fdYWlWGjt1DT4s5UkEbBECA-cGHy58p1alKZy5mu83mRtgDeDm1W2lfdmJnsG-Nbv2RrlyTBiNvc-nHrmtfBg7Kkg/s1600/P5130106.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUkkEEttjzjpj89DWPT-qrdPlPHb7fc5p4NEMjcXZjPlX68fdYWlWGjt1DT4s5UkEbBECA-cGHy58p1alKZy5mu83mRtgDeDm1W2lfdmJnsG-Nbv2RrlyTBiNvc-nHrmtfBg7Kkg/s320/P5130106.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472742825538864178" /></a> <br />it was such a moment to look forward to...and i loved it...i did...but? i "recognize" Martin's crowd is used to seeing him in these publike settings...but seeing him at the Vogue Theatre before? i prefer the theatre setting...the sitting down, the respect, the sound of his voice over everyting....not the girls talking loudly next to me about their fricking nails? or the really tall guy in front of me not wanting to stand too close to his male friend as the night went on and kept stepping back into my space, even though i had my hand against his back...<br />i love that i was so close...i do...don't get me wrong....but?<br />i am not into the bar scene...if i pay to hear music??? that's what i want...i don't want to hear a hundred drunk patrons singing along....i don't want to wrestle my place to see someone who speaks to me from someone speaking on the celphone to somebody about anything except where they are and that they should just hang the fuck up!!!! also???? maybe it's just me...but i really wish there had been more music from his new album....like Shane, like Sugarcoating....i mean, i do so LOVE everything, but wasn't this the forum for his new music?!? I LOVE the new album...and paid to have it shipped early to me to know the new songs....and i missed hearing how they could be portrayed differently live....this is Martin's greatest gift, his live show.it will change you. and i kind of missed hearing how he might sound live on his most "studio sounding" album...<br /><br />But? Martin???? you were simply beautific. thank you. as always, and forever....thank you. come back soon. i will so lovingly stalk you again. not scary stalk...but lovingly stalk.dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-44207347398083856922010-05-13T09:16:00.000-07:002010-05-13T09:22:24.344-07:00Revival<object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hnyIx1SKogo&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hnyIx1SKogo&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />tonight, i worship in the church of Martin.<br />Commodore Ballroom, Vancouver.<br /><br />it's a very good day.<br /><br />meet me there?dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-31254811448290447352010-05-10T15:09:00.000-07:002010-05-10T16:35:27.615-07:00did i say zen or did i say rat's ass?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaAllhsfgLjo4Gb41YAPPXHHSnM8BSDFlN0LZRi4971og66Xq_jhbvdhQHcKpzU5PoCldzC_4Nkn5J-KqW5q4f3F0BsIqRotLFQ1kk62Hb8Q0O5XH65CWXYAxrJ2UXfJhi6U9A1A/s1600/P5090051.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaAllhsfgLjo4Gb41YAPPXHHSnM8BSDFlN0LZRi4971og66Xq_jhbvdhQHcKpzU5PoCldzC_4Nkn5J-KqW5q4f3F0BsIqRotLFQ1kk62Hb8Q0O5XH65CWXYAxrJ2UXfJhi6U9A1A/s320/P5090051.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469768249880115714" /></a><br />I'm not sure what i said. i am not sure what has been going on continually for quite some time now. the paxil? made me feel lots, dream lots(lots of nightmares), revisit lots(things that give me nightmares), drink lots. i don't really know why all those things went hand in hand...except that the things that happened then, and in dreams, i never really want to address. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbXn1sypNS9RDThLfLEgBPo7hzja_vLvcIrgSwfrtGdtYkqyC5kH0ERcQN9cPBvkX2gmGGPigkF1QjfNfkLvuW2OMarTQ8MPQEBTHvbBTxLSGPh3J54IGwRnFZWQCV5oUrdnbzFw/s1600/P5090054.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbXn1sypNS9RDThLfLEgBPo7hzja_vLvcIrgSwfrtGdtYkqyC5kH0ERcQN9cPBvkX2gmGGPigkF1QjfNfkLvuW2OMarTQ8MPQEBTHvbBTxLSGPh3J54IGwRnFZWQCV5oUrdnbzFw/s320/P5090054.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469767936462761042" /></a><br />the comedown from paxil was hellaciaous...worse than the comedown from the illicit things i used to do way back when...of course, when i quit all that, i moved to colorado and lived a dream...so that kinda helped.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikfRrOqj6szbrs43ZAlJadEH3_G6A2LL1nNjaQRPhuBgBb3cIf4KObCNade5_M70WnIAzWa2usssQpb0caJbYhMIzZHzyRUgqNGcXFq_5KOtvSCWvzGOhuzsgZue4U385RsxaOQ/s1600/P5090059.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikfRrOqj6szbrs43ZAlJadEH3_G6A2LL1nNjaQRPhuBgBb3cIf4KObCNade5_M70WnIAzWa2usssQpb0caJbYhMIzZHzyRUgqNGcXFq_5KOtvSCWvzGOhuzsgZue4U385RsxaOQ/s320/P5090059.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469767603836229826" /></a><br />the welbutrin? it's been good. not making me any crazier...but? i'm not sure that it helps me anymore than being able to fake my way thru things easier...know what i mean? it makes me not frantic...in the daytime hours. at night? don't ask. just be glad, as am i, that i am within a three minute walk to the hospital now.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfW0aXWpmeNpiqOX_8VRLVMB6EyrMG-0ru54KTnLkZYhGxyhNp_dpF4isL7K6qvOQXJho_FBSStGbY8J6CTxsJXkB9IvVGKQZzLJrt2GSl4E5zBGK5Hj7gubBxSaBcpSmnv0fBKQ/s1600/P5090063.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfW0aXWpmeNpiqOX_8VRLVMB6EyrMG-0ru54KTnLkZYhGxyhNp_dpF4isL7K6qvOQXJho_FBSStGbY8J6CTxsJXkB9IvVGKQZzLJrt2GSl4E5zBGK5Hj7gubBxSaBcpSmnv0fBKQ/s320/P5090063.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469767309224023234" /></a><br />the thing is...some days are really, really bad. i think this week is the first week i have ever realized that some days are so bad...this bad...i think the relative calm of most of my days on welbutrin have made me recognize the storm that comes in from nowhere...and that storm?!? it's like that night on South Padre when the streets flooded in minutes, the lights went out everywhere, the wind ripped my door from the hinges....the docks down half a block were gone, the boats overturned in their moorings...tornadoes touched down unnannounced, windows shattered, the woppler radar broke down and all communications were lost...it was just me in the dark...with my dog...who really needed to go out for a pee.<br />and then it was gone. like that. <br />and the next day was sunny.<br />my doctor said that kind of mood swing isn't normal...he actually had a name for it...but i didn't ask him to write it down. but, i have two or three of those storms every month...i clench my teeth, my knuckles turn white....but i go to work and smile, maybe i cry in the bathroom for a bit, and i come home, make dinner, chit chat...take a long shower full of hot water and tears. he, my doc, also says there are drugs for that. on top of the wellbutrin, which has normalized my day to day life in this "major depressive episode," so another decision....another daily med?!? or suck up? i don't know. i'm 42. been sucking up a long, long time.<br />so....there's this question i'd like to ask...<br />how do i know just when my crazy has become too crazy, even for me?<br />do you know?dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-88515515713043813712010-05-06T15:51:00.000-07:002010-05-06T15:55:19.986-07:00what i wonder is this....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho1ZdjpBDg2iXbAdtpn55Vkgs9wxJLOxOMegt-otUNj2VTaLga4BufxyRyYSDoBDIj7d2wv6iNfUVazjPoptylU1hz3mUbFFHIryH7P9gL4QBj-MRr57KRoDvZbRghvGdWIMnVuQ/s1600/n545740803_1799996_3872.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho1ZdjpBDg2iXbAdtpn55Vkgs9wxJLOxOMegt-otUNj2VTaLga4BufxyRyYSDoBDIj7d2wv6iNfUVazjPoptylU1hz3mUbFFHIryH7P9gL4QBj-MRr57KRoDvZbRghvGdWIMnVuQ/s320/n545740803_1799996_3872.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468293681619472738" /></a><br /><br />when you get to a point where you just don't give one royal rat's ass anymore about anything going on around you? is that a good thing or a bad thing? i mean like a zen thing thing or a living in a seperate reality thing?<br />like this...should i be worried or proud about the state i'm in?dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-78164366128916777012010-05-03T16:25:00.000-07:002010-05-03T16:33:40.253-07:007.6 acres for sale<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirlktnONLoQZRZiHyv-2HCGFbRyiXIIn8B_-XyHVzxHeGCbZkSr8qEVVFZqjMXJGajuN7-nPySx-b0qI6d-JDDiOIJHdTfvNzdYyblqf4y10aCiQ7cE8lU3ctH_EQHbllSsnlU-w/s1600/meeting+of+minds+01.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirlktnONLoQZRZiHyv-2HCGFbRyiXIIn8B_-XyHVzxHeGCbZkSr8qEVVFZqjMXJGajuN7-nPySx-b0qI6d-JDDiOIJHdTfvNzdYyblqf4y10aCiQ7cE8lU3ctH_EQHbllSsnlU-w/s320/meeting+of+minds+01.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467189862225084146" /></a><br /><br />riverfront...<br />anyone want to buy in with me so my friend can stay?<br />my heart is breaking...i anticipate not only losing his sweet breath, but losing 7.6 beautiful river walk acres to land developers...developers who will not want the"dog walkers welcome" sign to remain...not that there will be anything worthy to walk to once it's all developed. <br />i hope and pray that i am completely wrong.dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-22165321641620003732010-04-29T15:03:00.000-07:002010-04-29T19:28:17.605-07:00still don't like her<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIW01_HEQDcSzM2C1CsI3GOT116DGMsLi5fnHQ8JpWGgUV8BuKv_0IDnnHTQSmKoVonvWT5XE6aeJRtpHnlDvOsSx-wKOs5c0U9hqGCyD038e6XikhwinyaSxWA7QPudMANuO_ow/s1600/hindenburg09.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIW01_HEQDcSzM2C1CsI3GOT116DGMsLi5fnHQ8JpWGgUV8BuKv_0IDnnHTQSmKoVonvWT5XE6aeJRtpHnlDvOsSx-wKOs5c0U9hqGCyD038e6XikhwinyaSxWA7QPudMANuO_ow/s320/hindenburg09.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465685335238075234" /></a><br />it's funny how saying you don't like, agree with, or even think she's seeing things in a reality based way(anymore), or that she she doesn't see the real morality of things, only the headlines, Oprah can change your world...<br />even if you're a nobody to begin with...<br />so fair warning...<br />if you don't like what she's saying and/or doing? or? even if you have a legitimate question about a story she's had her opinion on? ....no matter how compelling your argument seems to you, yourself? don't mention it to anybody. just don't do it. bite your fucking tongue. apparently, she has spies everywhere...and your whole life will come crashing down.<br />just saying...<br />oprah who?<br />i'm not saying...<br />anything.<br />not even the fact that 90 percent of her book club books i read before her...and people think i like her cuz of my library??? fuck off. i read the Heart is a Lonely Hunter when i was 11...oh, crap...did i just mention oprah and book club in the same post? CRAP. as if it wasn't horrible enough the first time around. oh, and since i am already here?!? A Million Little Pieces is still a great book.dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27566360.post-39281063619005434542010-04-29T14:34:00.000-07:002010-05-06T20:47:42.321-07:00walking through tall cotton<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtxfrZM0ixwD6-Kffy1ic_BbTTZa5Eycz9azRqBWbmVpdwYv39awWeumg_tJbGV2l8h3Ih_qZGweVKBlNhCz4CvIReKLVH_de98clpfcUc-j37yNj3cP4x3gCEj42kljuoHGuUbg/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtxfrZM0ixwD6-Kffy1ic_BbTTZa5Eycz9azRqBWbmVpdwYv39awWeumg_tJbGV2l8h3Ih_qZGweVKBlNhCz4CvIReKLVH_de98clpfcUc-j37yNj3cP4x3gCEj42kljuoHGuUbg/s320/1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465676416001146514" /></a><br /><br />been trying to place my feet carefully, but i can't really see them...you know, figuratively.<br />it's been a year(and some)...and i wonder if i am coming out of it or if it's the the extra hours of daylight...<br />many long nights of dark imaginings...<br />many wishes for other wishes....<br />lately, although my thoughts are a bit clearer, as i look around me, i realize there are a lot fewer people about. i was not sure, at first, how i would make it. but? it's nice that such decisions have been taken care of...at least for now. it's easier to not have other people telling me how things are, how i should be, how things are supposed to be...<br />cuz all of those things couldn't have been farther from the truth of my reality for the last year(and some)... i mean, it's nice, and all, that you think you knew what was going on...but, you really didn't...so thanks...you know, for not asking. Thanks for just assuming. it's made some things harder in short term...you know, my short term...that drags on forever....but? it's just because i have issues about hurting your feelings....i mean, not yours, right now, reading now...at least, i don't think it's you. i hope it's not you...i hope you've moved on so that i can be myself here again. has enough time passed? is this a new place? with the same name? i don't want to have to change everything, after all.dillinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10833842886715698428noreply@blogger.com0