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.

Highest highs and lowest lows…

mike, michael, peter :: great woods, mansfield, ma :: june 13, 2008

Let’s start with the low so that I can end this entry on a high note:
R.E.M. says goodbye.

I don’t even know what to say about that… For 31 years, R.E.M. has provided the soundtrack to my life. If you put it in perspective, R.E.M. has been in my life longer than either one of my parents. Even if you discount the early days, before I was a die hard fan, that’s still 23 years. Three years shy of how long my father had been in my life. “Green” (1988) was definitely the album that made me declare my fandom. Before that I didn’t even know such a thing existed.

Chronic Town, Murmur, Reckoning, Fables, Pageant, Document, Green, Out of Time, Automatic, Monster, Hi-Fi, Up, Reveal, Around the Sun, Accelerate, Collapse…  Ask me, and I can name at least one song from each that i’d classify as a favorite. Press me harder, and I can tell you exactly what songs were playing at very definitive life-changing moments.

I completely applaud their decision to do it their way but it doesn’t change the fact that there is a huge void in my musical life now…

(And yes, I know, we broke up. That doesn’t change a damn thing.)

Now for the high note:
I had said a while back that I had let someone read a short story of mine, and that I was terrified of their reaction.

I am a silly, silly, little bunny.

It was wonderful!  You use such great language and it flows so well.  The dialogue was so good I started to tear up a little at parts but don’t tell anybody that!  (Oh crap, I just told people that! Oh well. No one knows who actually got a chance to read it.) You shouldn’t be shy about your writing, you have a strong voice and you should be proud of that.

Seeing how that person was an English major, I’m taking that as very high praise.