Five minutes? Why not?!

So, that someone who asked for me to send him some of my writing has promised to reciprocate. I’m still waiting on him…

But in the meantime, I’m working on another piece of my own. I don’t feel that the chick lit stuff I usually spew during NaNo is up to par with the piece I previously sent, so I’m writing a new one.

Writing what I know has turned into a ‘tribute’ of a night that will probably live in infamy. Yes, for those in the know—it’s a rehashing of the infamous “Five Minutes” night. Some of the details will change a bit since he knows all the major players, and there will be some more contemporary things specific to a couple of my conversations with him, but it’s time to put that damn ticking clock behind me.

The weird thing is that as I was re-reading his email to me about how well I write (I needed a pep talk), this song came on that “Five Minutes” Man’s band covered. Spooooooooooooooooooky!

The other weird thing is that I’ve been listening to Fall Out Boy a lot lately. Holy cow! It’s like every single song is about love gone wrong. At least two that I’ve noticed are about cheating and there are a few about one-night stands.

Considering the whole “Five Minutes” conversation, it’s oddly fitting… even though nothing explicitly named in that conversation happened IRL, the story is going to take the “why not” approach.

Should be an interesting tale… Cathartic, at the very least.

Ready or not, BMS takin’ over!

bms :: spot underground, providence, ri :: june 19, 2011

After this weekend, I don’t think there’s a more fitting lyric in Black Mountain Symphony’s cover of “Ready or Not” than “But, no, don’t weep. C-Rollz’ in a state of sleep.”

Seriously. That damn kid can sleeeeep! (Well, in all fairness, they all can. I wish I was so lucky!)

The Seacoast Fringe Fest was this weekend in Portsmouth, so the band came up to perform Saturday, Sunday, and today. We played host (of course) and it was well worth it.

This was the second time I found myself up too late with Bill, Orion, and Rollz, and there were (again) some interesting conversations. And (again), the conversations got even more interesting after Bill left. (I’m not sure why, but I’ll take it!) Rollz was completely ‘faced and he ended up yelling at me. The basic gist of it was that I’m passionate and I need to do something with that passion. I thought it was adorable.

As if I needed ANOTHER sign that I’ve been making peace with my past, I know I’ve come a long way when I think a drunk guy yelling at me is adorable. Those signs are coming fast and furious lately. It’s interesting… I’ve been dealing with my demons for how long now? Twenty something years?

Whatever.

The big take-away from that conversation is when both Orion and Rollz told me I needed to stop asking “why” and start asking “why not”. Yeah. Two drunk guys giving me really good life advice that I’m thinking about taking. (SEE?!?! MORE. SIGNS.)

There was a lot of other stuff, and a lot of other people involved in this weekend, but it’s the Orion and Rollz Show that sticks in my head.

Three AM conversations, man. There’s just something about them.

Hopefully, there will be many more…

BOOBIES!!!! - Part 2

save the boobies!!!

Rack shot: submitted
Money: donated

What have YOU done to save the boobies?

————

On a more serious note, my friend, Wendy, is this year’s Bloggers Helping Bloggers recipient. If you hate Komen, and the pink, AND boobies, I DARE you to hate this woman.

When I met Wendy, way back in 2000 / 2001, she was known as “Skittish Girl”. She’s no longer skittish.

She has been blogging about her breast cancer experience with more grace, more eloquence, and more humor than I think I’d ever be capable of.

But she’s more than breast cancer…

She’s a mom, a sister, a child, a talented photographer, a friend, and a damn good person.

She is the kind of woman (or man, we include them, too), the Boobiethon helps.


Through no fault of her own, she’s ended up in a terrible place financially. I hate the fact that she had to be a BHB recipient… but I’m more than happy to send her some much needed dough.

On the Boobiethon’s donate page, you’ll find a direct link to her PayPal account. I can assure you that ALL the donations made to her will go directly to her.

Will you please help her out?

BOOBIES!!!!

blogger boobiethon begins october 1st!

Look.

I know some of you hate the pink. Some of you have issues with Komen.

SOME of you even hate boobies.

I don’t give two shits.

Breast cancer has now affected my “sister’s” mom, my mother’s cousin, and one of the coolest people I’ve ever met. I’m in a fighting mood this year. More than usual.

There’s a couple of new people reading this who are about to learn something about me… and I’m not sorry if this changes your perception of me:

I share pictures of my boobies as well as open my wallet every year.


As I’ve said in the past,  Anyhoo, with the exception of one year, I’ve been involved ever since. I’ve given my cash, my time, and yes, my rack.

Seriously, it’s quite astonishing to realize that my boobies have been made available on teh interweb since 2002. It’s not something I would normally do and I’m never quite 100% with posting pictures of The Girls online, but…  I look at it like this: if some guy wants to pony up $50 to see a picture of my nekkid boobies, then more power to him. Give the cash to a good cause and enjoy the view. It’s just skin. At the end of the day, I still have my boobies. Thousands of men and women aren’t so lucky.

I’m photo editing this year, which is always… interesting. Sometimes, you see the survivors’ pictures with their scary scars and heart breaking stories, sometimes you see what can’t possibly be god given, and sometimes, you see normal, boring everyday boobies. This isn’t about sex, or indecent exposure, or soft core pr0n, or whatever other label you want to slap on it.

This is about breast cancer.

We just chosen to package our fundraising efforts a little differently.

The one where I piss off my only reader because I’ve annoyed myself with the vagueness…

ryan montbleau band :: nectar’s mv, martha’s vineyard amity island ::august 20, 2011

So, a few weeks ago, there was an encounter with a person which left me feeling kind of… scrambled?

This person… it’s weird. They make me feel vulnerable. They make me WANT to feel vulnerable.

It’s not like I expect them to come swooping in on a big white stallion and save me. Shit, I don’t WANT to be saved… it’s like I just want to lay my soul bare and let what will happen, happen.

They helped me (without even knowing it) open a set of floodgates that should have never been opened. Two separate conversations had two very different effects on me, which is odd, because in the end, the result is the same. I’m a big girl, and I know what will happen if I don’t close those floodgates, but I don’t want to. I want to follow this through to the end, instead of chickening out like I always seem to when it comes to… well, That Thing.

I don’t know if I should thank them or kick them in the shins. 

I guess we’ll have to see what happens… but I know that when I see them again, if their face lights up the way it has on occasion, they’ll be forgiven for whatever they started.