the good, the bad and the ugly (part 1)

i recently deleted a web journal i'd kept for over 4 years. i logged on, one morning, took a deep breath, with my finger poised over the key. i closed my eyes, and pressed down.

i'd like to say there was joy uspeakable. unfortunately, it felt more like having the wind kicked out of me. there was, at least, a breath of fresh air, after.

there are many,many reasons, i took the site down. they matter, not. it is simply good that i'm here, now.

my profile picture is one of my all-time favorite pictures. it captures a joyful me at a not-so-joyful but oh-so-humbling moment in my life. i was happy. and being reminded of that, when i log on here, feels like a good thing.

i'd love nothing more than to catch a quick nap before bella gets out of school. but i know that's about useless, so instead, i'm here. thinking a little too much. thinking about a friend. i don't know why it bothers me, when it so obviously doesn't bother her. this friendship i sweat blood and tears and laughter and years for. this friendship that in reality, means nothing.

you know that moment in jr. high, when, no matter your popularity score, you realized you had suddenly been duped in a situation? you froze, face red, while everyone enjoyed the joke on you. and if such a thing existed as melting into the floor, you would have.

i had a friendship....we had a friendship... that rivals the closeness of some siblings. so close that we even attended eachothers family reunions. our summers were filled with day trips, exploring, always traveling some place or another. grilling out, camping, hitting the lake. late nights dancing and singing to 80's music. playing board games, video games, card games. we were there for eachothers weddings, births of our kids, holidays. candace and i could discuss everything from fried potatoes to that not-so-fresh feeling.

and all of that feels, right now, like that cruel joke.

i look back and i recognize all the little warnings and signs and inconsistencies along the way, the ones we somehow always overlook when we tell ourselves that we love or care about someone. the idea of holding someone accountable, or better yet, staying true to our own standards, somehow flies right out the window when we settle into the comfortable complacency relationships afford. when this feels good. when this feels right.

jason & k had been friends since childhood. i came along somewhere in the middle of k's 2nd marriage. 'had been there the entirety of his courtship and 3rd marriage to candace, who quickly became, my best friend. keyword: mine. i don't know that she was ever a friend to me. and i don't say that with biterness. its simply truth, realized after all this time.

we were too close. we let our guards down. we became dependent on eachother. we let things slide. rather than just a friendship, we became almost a marriage. and the undertow was silent but steady in its deception and ultimate demise.

i understand what i feel is part of Gods' lesson in letting this go. but it doesn't make it any less painful.

looking back, i should've taken things more seriously. i knew the alignment in my life was off track, let alone all of ours. but it was far easier to go with the flow, until jason & i started to have very real issues in our marriage. what should have been my first warning signs...the red flags....were instead, overlooked, in my desperate grasping at straws. you ignore snippets of *harmless* conversation. actions, lies.....because you tell yourself that you, at least, are innocent. you don't have a horse in that race. and you make excuses and allowances for just plain bad behavior.

and somewhere, in that process, you lose the part of your soul that is good.

i was raped, a year ago new years day.

only, it wasn't a brutal attack by an absolute stranger. it was a drugged, forced act by a friend closer than a brother.

and so i don't fit into any one stereotypical category. and i think, at times, thats the hardest thing for me to deal with. there are 4 people and countless others, involved. affected. there are marriages and friendships ripped apart at the seams. there are years of love and laughter and tears; countless memories now tainted.

i am angry at this, my loss. i am resentful of the people involved, that i feel have abandoned me, in their own failure to understand. to respond.

in and of itself, i could probably sort thru this. you tell yourself that you could've prevented it. you sort thru layers of guilt and contempt. in the big scheme of things, it was just sex. you should be over it by now. but there's no one perfect way to get thru anything. and this one solitary occurance has been the proverbial straw that broke the camels' back, for me. thru more painful days that i care to mention, i've realized that i've spent years of my life carrying around that *backpack of crap* that so amused my therapist, having never truly emptied its contents. i guess i kept finding pockets to hide things in...

and while this is so obviously the most ominous presence in my life at this time, i find it good, that i'm no longer willing to be silent. that bravery, alone, no matter how fragile, encourages me. the thought that maybe i'm not so far gone that i can never move on, is comforting.

i read this comment the other day:

"and right now i'm akin to being covered in salt and drug behind an insane horse who only knows how to run on glass pathways"

i totally get that.

its the *going back* that seems to be my biggest struggle. i mourn the loss of the person i used to be. the life that i knew. the people that used to round out so much of my life. times gone by. all that stuff i can never get back. i have the ability to move on. i could get better. but its a hard balance for me..... this delving into my past...sorting thru piece after piece, deciding which pile it fits into. trashed or truckin' on.

i think the fact that there are so many areas in my life without closure, exposes a really painful truth that i've chosen not to deal with. i used to say "no regrets"..."no failures". but there are. so, so many of them. so much guilt; self-loathing.

i'd like to learn to love those scars, those bumps in the road that make up my story. i want a life of significance and purpose. i want to be a testimony and an encouragement to others that have felt the loneliness and the loss that i know all too well. but to say not that i've triumphed over, but am traveling thru it, with my eyes wide open, my mind clear. and to embrace that, genuinely.

as a testimony to irony, right before this happened, candace and i had spent many a long night talking about our spiritual lives ~ namely how stunted they'd become. we had a mutual desire to get back on the right track. for ourselves, our children, our husbands. and we were in the tough position of being that one influence in any of their lives. she and i had come from similar homes and backgrounds. we wanted that fulfillment back in our lives. and it started slow. we got back into church. and, as our strongest supporters, we encouraged eachother along the way.

the night her husband raped me, i smoked marijuanna for the first time. mixed with alcohol, it was my proverbial death sentence. k pulled out his sleek little surprise long about 2 in the morning. we laughed nervously and looked back and forth at one another across the room.

i'd been the perfect hostess that night. we'd had a full dinner and gobs of finger foods. 'played board games and cards long into the night. most were slowly heading home after an enjoyable evening. the girls were having a sleepover and appropriately looked after. no hard liquor, per my request, but mixed drinks had been plentiful, and i'd been careful on my intake. i knew i'd be the one up early on kid duty with 4 rambunctious girls in the morning.

there's no excuse. there's no reason why any of us should have even entertained the idea. or why 4 of us stepped onto the front deck, that cold night. shortly thereafter, i remember feeling just bizarre. i sat down on the couch and then excused myself to the bedroom. i laid down, fully dressed. i couldn't keep my eyes open. i can recall everything that happened that night, what was said, and more importantly, what was done. and i felt utterly useless. a zombie. i couldn't respond. couldn't defend myself, and he took full advantage of that.

i remember screaming in my head. i remember feeling so ashamed that i'd let myself get this intoxicated. i rembember wanting jason to rescue me. for someone to walk in that room. i remember falling out of bed, later. a naked, wet, tangled mess.

my therapist wants to imagine that he spiked something. i don't know. he and jason had traded off, in charge of the drinks that night. i know that i wouldn't put anything past him, anymore. i don't know this person. this person that single-handedly ripped apart a friendship. i hate him for that.

and i'm grateful, because it needed to happen.

i wasn't defended. by anyone. it was a shock to everyone. and in the aftermath, i was abandoned, and left there to struggle thru all of this, alone. i have hated all of them for that. which is something i really haven't wanted to let go of just yet. i don't think its fair, that they go on with their lives, leaving me to fumble around in the dark. they don't want to talk about it. they don't want to validate my hurt. to have to deal with it.

i want them to hurt as much as i have hurt. i would rather someone scream out loud, than to endure this deafening silence.

it's because of that, i don't know where i'm at, in regard to these relationships...... i should never have smoked weed. i'm in my 30's. i should have gone that route in high-school and been done with it. and the thing is, i knew better then. it never even crossed my mind. so why wouldn't i know better now....it should never have crossed my mind. i shouldn't have even been in that place, mentally. i can't even handle more than a couple mixed drinks without feeling buzzed.

i know that my healing can only come about when i can truly forgive myself.....and forgive him, despite himself. forgive him, when i will probably never in my lifetime hear him ask it. but this is so hard. he betrayed a trust. a sacred trust. i should have been safe in my own home., with his wife nursing a baby in the next room and jason out getting cold medicine for a sick little one. he took advantage of a situation and took something from me without asking. it was not his to take. all those awkward moments when he'd make comments about how pretty i was, when he'd goof around flirting, that i passed off as him just being a typical perverted guy, make me sick to my stomach now. i hate him for his countless lies and indescretions thru the years, that i saw and never held him accountable for. that i never called him on or confronted him with until it was too late.i hate him for lying about this still, claiming he was too drunk to remember anything from that night. i hate him. for what he did to his wife. to his best friend. to me. and for not dealing with it now.

i hate candace for abandoning me. i hate that i wasted so much of myself in a friendship that at best, now feels so damned one-sided. i considered her my closest friend. and after everything over this past year. after everything i've done and been for her. all the years we've invested in our friendship, that she chooses him... that she has the gall to ask me to still be her shoulder to lean on, but in secrecy, so he doesn't know. so she can work on her marriage and keep me too. i want to understand the position that she's in. but i'm angry that she can not do the same for me.

i hate jason for not defending me, to this day. for not protecting me. for not standing up or fighting for me. for leaving me completely and utterly alone. i hate this marriage that has climbed so many mountains only to realize i'm the only one there to catch myself when i fall off the other side. i hate that this one thing seemingly erases all others. all my struggling to trust him, again and again and again and again, seems like such an absolute waste. why. why am i not worth more than all of that. why am i not worth being taken care of. loved in the way that i have so unconditionally loved.

when i look at the situation objectively, there are 4 very diverse people, all in their own corners, all struggling to get thru. k knows exactly what he did. but he's angry that he's been cornered. that he's forced to fess up to a lifetime of lies; of a past and insecurities that he's never dealt with. so rather than redeem himself, he chooses to ignore it all and just walk away. after all, i didn't press charges. so he's free and clear. in essence, he got what he wanted out of the deal.

candace is desperately clinging to a life, that in alot of ways, she's just now waking up to. she hates him for what he did. but she doesn't want to give up on her marriage. she has 3 innocent babies. how can she get thru that on her own.

jason loves me. he is devastated by the idea that his closest friend could have done such a thing. he mourns the loss of a closeness that will never again be there. he regrets his silence. that he missed possibly the most important opportunity in his lifetime, to be my hero.

and there's me. there are these moments when i feel certain i can't hurt any more than i do. and inevitably, when i take that step, i realize with stunning clarity, "oh yes, i can.".

eh. i never said this would be "light" reading.

whats your sign

growing up, i was told astrology was a forbidden fruit, so to speak. that God "wasn't in signs and stars". and that these things were the neighbor to the dark arts. today, i feel much the same, tho my understanding and study of those dynamics has drastically changed. i believe in God and creation, period. and with that, the cycle of the sun and moons were set in motion for a purpose and significance.

if you think about it, all these natural things that surround us are of use. they are the balance that spurs the truth and connection in all beliefs grounded in meditation, down thru the ages.

i have never found horoscopes or readings of any kind especially useful or poignant. mostly, they're silly. i've had my taro drawn twice, by well-meaning acquaintances & found them to be mildly accurate, if entertaining. the only thing that stood out in both, was the presence of a dark haired male and the significanceof his connection with my life.

numerology is something else entirely, and reminds me of wordpage games we played in middle school. assigning letters with numbers ~ adding numbers until you were back to a single digit. for fun, i did my name one time. i found it interesting that my "life path" and "destiny" numbers they talk about, didn't at all match the 2 numbers that i've always associated as my *lucky numbers*. instead, those 2 numbers match my daughter. to me, thats interesting, the fact that numbers from a random birth name match her, is unique.

but i always look for the significance in circumstances. in conversation, you can bet i'm absently highlighting the reason for talking to this person. at this time. taking note of what was meant to be. why God put me in this situation.

after my last post, i decided to research my actual birth day. turns out mom was right. i was indeed born on a tuesday. which spiked my curiosity and i did abit of browsing....i knew i was a sagittarius. a cat (rabbit) in the chinese zodiac. my element is fire. i remember being dissapointed when years ago, i discovered that i was fire when i far more identified with earth. i suspect thats where the elemental *wood* balances....wood ~ associated with negative feelings of anger and depression, and positive of patience and altruism: the unselfish concern for the welfare of others; a selflessness.

i'm always fascinated by the characteristics those signs represent, that kind-of define me. i don't take any of it too seriously. but i find it somewhat interesting....

so. i'm whats known as a "mutable sagittarius". mutable, from the latin root, which means"change". flexible and adaptable. evolving thru learning, traveling and knowledge. Mutable signs have a restless nature that comes from being the breakdown before the breakthrough-- in preparation for the end of the season. the key word in my "life path" is freedom. instinctual. idealist. a forthright communicator. i don't like to be restricted. i struggle to feel real and solid. independent. apt to be multi-talented but suffer from lack of direction. discontent. indecisive. holds people up to high standards . generous nature. fun-loving. optimistic disposition. prone to appear overly spiritual or philosophical in coversation. overindulgent. enjoys all aspects of the arts. reserved, creates peaceful, comfortable environments. attention to small detail. and only when things are in order, can i relax. opting for safety over risk. passionate when inspired. likewise, inspiring. nourishing. nurturing. a warm radiance, a trust in life's journey and a willingness to take risks. relying on intuition. i am drawn to the east, planet jupiter. the colors brown and green. i am a primal spirit.

interesting enough, those are very real characteristics that i do have. and i am fiercely independent to a fault. the whole "breakdown before the breakthrough" bit was especially intrigueing. as was the "safety before, but willingness to take" risks, too.

on the negative, i'm often taken advantage of. taken for granted. i realize this. in past,this hasn't stopped me from caring. i am very much a nurturer. i take great pride in the knowledge that people are comforted by me. and yet i am resentful of all that that role encompasses. in moments of quiet escape, i look longingly at the lives placed in front of me, as if i'm on the outside, looking in. i feel that people depend on me. that somehow i am directly responsible in their well-being. this is represented no better than in the way many people refer to me. titles like "miss kitty" or "mama kat". growing up on a farm, i used to watch in amazement, mother hogs. all those wriggling, selfish, needy piglets, fighting over teats. sometimes she would be covered with their mass. there are times, when i empathize with her. this trait is even represented in my current job: as a caretaker for 2 adult mentally retarded women. sometimes, i feel overwhelmed by the needs people have of me.

in my entire life, aside from God, i think there have been only 3 that have appeared to know me. truly know me.

ironically, i thought of that while listening to the radio yesterday, on my way to pick up bella from school. the song by 3 doors down, the chorus "you love me, but you don't know who i am...so let me go" has great meaning to me at this point in my life.

that balance. that equality, is something i strive for, daily. that need to feel heard. understood. validated.to be A Part Of, tho i fight against that very thing with every fiber of my being.

i'm also, not all good. tho i am undeniably patient, i also have a dark temper, floating just under the surface, which is most often taken out on myself.

all of this has nothing to do with acutally delving into what i'm supposed to for therapy. which is why i logged on here in the first place. but i figure its a distraction at worst. at best, a start. a procrastinator always needs a logical explanation.

anyway. i knew i'd find it, if i hunted long enough. i'm not a pack rat, feeling the *urge to purge* seemingly every few months. what i do hang on to, are things in written form. books, notes, old emails.this particular email was written 4 years ago. march 12th, 2004. regarding a dream. a dream that matched a recurring dream i've had since childhood. and court shared this dream. for some reason, it was important i find this today. i kept it folded in my purse for over 2 years and would take it out from time to time, to read and re-read.which takes me right back to the "presence of a dark haired male and the significance of his connection with my life".

i think court is who that represents, tho we have no conventional kind of friendship, taking over 7 years to even put a voice with so many words. its been a saving grace, if you will. and i am grateful i've had that presence... that someone to talk to, about such deep life issues. i feel like, God meant that small, perhaps insignificant connection for a reason.

i could also argue thats one of my flaws....thinking, in and of itself. i'll admit i think entirely too much. that i live largely in my mind. i worry. i rationalize. i contemplate. its not a secret, i can keep myself up for hours on end, with all that thinking. but somehow, i feel as tho, maybe if i can just think enough, i might ultimately pull thru. i might discover, or redefine, who i am. where i'm going. i might recognize that woman in the mirror, after all this time.

i've not taken the time to do that until now. i've always felt the need to censor myself in some way, shape or form. but here, in this space, i don't feel judged and pushed in a corner. here, i cannot be misinterpreted. misrepresented. misunderstood. i can simply be.

and after all, isn't that one of the biggest obstacles in letting go?

tuesday's child

mom tells me i was born on a tuesday, which corresponds directly with my middle name: anne. i'm sure somewhere i could look that up. but i'd almost rather not know. it would suck to be wednesday....

Mondays child is fair of face,

Tuesdays child is full of grace,

Wednesdays child is full of woe,

Thursdays child has far to go,

Fridays child is loving and giving,

Saturdays child works hard for his living,

And the child born on the Sabbath day, is bonny & blithe, and good & gay

so i met with the psychiatrist today for our initial consultation that went over by 30 minutes. her fault, not mine.

i'm always critical in these situations. so today, my emotion surprised even me. i've never just sat there and cried. this was indeed different.

somewhere in the midst of my projectile, i stated that what digs at me the most, is that for the first time in my life, i find myself uncertain of my purpose. not that i've ever full-on claimed to know exactly what i'm doing or where i'm going. but i've always somehow enjoyed the ride, which has been the one blessed crack in my anal retention. its been ok to explore the side roads. ok, that i'm this age and not yet "settled" by society terms. all of a sudden, i feel like i'm flailing around aimlessly in this heap on the floor and have not a clue as to how to get back up. i've battled depression off and on for over 17 years. but this hour feels my darkest.

she asked if i'm suicidal. i was truthful: not today.

she labeled me a nurturer, adding that i border on rescuer.

i acknowledge that. i find it one of my more honorable characteristics and quite possibly my biggest downfall. i have always Taken Care Of. i can remember being 3 years old and feeling the need to protect my mother. i recall a conversation nearly 4 years ago ~ a friend i'd lost touch with, dropped in one day, out of the blue. we settled into familiar banter and then she asked how i'd been. at the end of my speel, she leaned forward and nodded, saying, "ok. so how are you? at the time, it hit me like a ton of bricks, with the realization that i'd just spent that entire time talking about all the people in my life. as if that somehow made up me.

today, when i questioned God's purpose in this entire last year....last many years.....she wondered if maybe its his way of forcing me to let go. because i've not been doing such a hot job of it on my own. maybe he had to sit me down hard and rip off all the excess. you know, the guy in the bible that wrestled with God, and he had to break a rib before he cried uncle. maybe i lean to the right of stubborn? i blurted out my descriptive view on my Backpack of Crap. she gave a small laugh and asked if she could borrow that one day.

unfortunately, that is also to be my assignment for my next appointment. to actually take a look inside and give her a detailed list of the crap.

i don't know why i do that. always feel the urge to put everything on the table. all up front. its not that i dare you to recoil in horror and run screaming from all that is me. i just find it neccesary to keep you on the real, as the kids say.

i just really, really don't want to open that backpack. its been a loooong time.

she said she likes to work in 3's. she wanted me to list 3 things i hope to get out of talking to her. i half-snorted and caught myself. so i said i wanted to get to a point where i could let go. to me, logically, that is all encompassing. i feel as tho that in and of itself can set off a chain reaction for everything underneath. fine. she wanted 2 more. i said, i'd like to figure out where i'm at in this marriage. that surprised me ~ blatant honesty about the relationship contrived largely of convenience that has endured off and on, nearly 10 years. and finally, i'd like to figure out where i'm at with God. she wondered if we should move that to the top slot.

i was relieved when it was time to go....

i am utterly exhausted. i looked at myself in the mirror today. really, honestly looked. and i look old. and worn. and i don't want to. but there's the verbs and the nouns, c. so true....

yesterday was liberating. today has been relentless. i am here of my own accord. but i am here only because of closing some doors that i literally had to squeeze my eyes shut at and push. i deleted a web journal i've had for nearly 3 years because the negative overwhelmed the positive. but the truth is, the positive, i take with me wherever i go. and the people i need in my life, i have.

i need to call c back. i've been working so much overtime and yesterday i literally didn't get in til 9 pm. 25 + hours away from my bed. today wasn't much easier. up at 7....didn't get in til 8.

so tonite, i'll sleep. and tomorrow. will be tomorrow.

how i saved myself from a $20 overdraft

it took my offspring 40 minutes to put a shirt,pants, socks and shoes on this morning. in that time, i’d cussed the dog properly for his 3rd toilet paper raid of the week, made 2 lunches,mastered a ponytail, and peed, thus having no time or choice but to throw shorts on under my incredibly sexy oversized eyore shirt, and forgo the bra so we could still make it into the dropoff lane before having to get a tardy pass.

once IN the car, i remembered that i had no gas and was merely driving at all but for the grace of my good looks, and began fervently praying that God have the mercy not to embaress the crap out of me.

making it just in time, i high fived mini-me and decided that with the blessings bestowed upon me, i could now afford to just go on home, harboring the notion that i might just lay down for abit before work this afternoon. rrnt. wrong. the phone rang 3 x’s in a row. first to inform me that the warranty (which i do not have) on my car is rapidly running out. and did i realize this could be my Last Chance? the 2nd was to ask if i was aware i could now buy my diabetic supplies thru my phone. i asked if they knew something i didn’t know...perhaps they had secretly been testing my ketones in the mornings when i stumble thru the dark like the drunken midget i am. 3rd, was jason who asked if i was sleeping. i was tempted to ask if this was a trick question when he said he needed to go. (!!!!)

deciding perhaps a quick jaunt on the internet might relax me, i logged online and for kicks and giggles, thought i’d check the old bank account.. see if the rent check had been cashed or if maybe i’d won landlords pet of the month. instead, i realized that the $5 i put in the blasted car on monday had overdrawn the account by, get this, $2.80. it took me all of 2 seconds to put the clock (9:22) and the piggybank (Full of Endless Possibilities) together and spring into action.

i knew the bank would do turn overs by 10. i dumped the contents from 2 cans and began counting. $1.84 in pennies. next, i emptied the basket -o- everything that sits in the living room and dumped out my purse. $4 on the mark. score. then, i remembered the bank doesn’t have one of those fancy schmanzy little change counting machines so i began my frantic search for the ginormous bag of change wrappers i bought 3 years ago for just such occasions. the next 5 minutes were spent with me perched precariously across the contents in the spare closet, trying to pry open totes with my teeth (not really,but nearly) aha! now i had the joy of filling them and searching for the aforementioned bra.

meanwhile, the dog had jumped on the toilet to get ahold of his prized toilet paper roll that i had smartly set on the top. out of reach.. he was halfway thru the house in his tp’ing endeavors when i stopped him dead in his tracks and beat him soundly, spinning around to grab my purse and keys. on the way to the bank, i faced a dilemma. i could possibly get there but could i make it to the gas station on the other side of town that takes checks and doesn’t deposit them for 2 days. decisions! it was 9:44. no time. i decided maybe this was Gods cheeky way of teaching me a lesson in faith.... but then, i follow the pals burger sign messages with a religions fervor like some look at their horoscopes. so its a toss-up. at any rate, i made it to the bank at 9:52 am and cheerily set my 4 neatly wrapped packs of pennies and my pile of quarters,nickels and dimes on the tray, then managed to sheepishly get out "hi. i’d like to make a teensy tiny deposit." to her credit, she didn’t even bat an overly mascarraed eyelash, and minutes later, handed me my deposit receipt.

sweet niblets. i now had 20 cents to my name. no overdraft. (pause for victory dance).

the rest is a blur, really. i made it to the gas station with the thankful promise i would name my next born j’esus. and i didn’t even twitch when i filled out the check that my butt can’t cash til friday.

thats about it. i won’t bore you with the part about arriving home to discover the cat had knocked off my badge for work and in his effort to get even with me, the dog was calmly chewing it to shreds. and that i then had to drive all the way across town to get a new one that i was charged for. or the fact that its now noon. which gives me approximately 1 hour to lay down. but i hear the phone ringing..

the things some do in the dark

late of the evening when one has nothing better to do with one's time than to spy on the dark belly of the underworld that is the upstairs neighbors, deep conversations ensue.....

dude! what is that sound? shhhhhhh. don't open the curtains anymore - they'll totally see. look on your side.
like they'll see. they're high.
how do you know these things?! ohmygosh, did you see that?
they totally have a pipe. look.... he keeps hittin' it.
if they're gonna play *drug lords of pine*, shouldn't they have a quieter car?
shhhhhh. i can't see.
ok. how does being quiet, help you see? dude. where are your binoculars?
like you're going to see anything in the dark.
ahh but you could be stealthy then. what you need is night vision. thats the ticket. ok, seriously. don't open the curtain anymore!!!
i can't see. and they're not gonna see me. do you think i should call in an anonymous tip to the police?
oh there's an idea. then they'll know just where to point in their drive-by.
technically they couldn't get off any really good shots from that street angle.
comforting...... you know, i bet this is where capone lived. in this very house.
why in the world would you think that?
lets look at the facts. its a nice house...big...spacious, yet not conspicuous. almost modest. there are several points of discreet exit.....and....aaaaaand, there's the weird spot on the floorboard in the living room.....huh, huh?? am i right? a hidden "trap-door" perhaps? ya followin' me?
its called "where the mantle was". you know. becase of the "fireplace".
or "was it".
was it what
was it really a "fireplace".
it was a fireplace!! look where the chimney was!!
then how do you explain the huge space under the house. remember what the direct tv guy told me? you know there was an underground bar here in town, right? the "cats paw". i'd like to have a bar. i'd serve coffee. little bit of the frappucino, baby. mine would be "the kats paw" of course. frappucinos. mmmmm .
capone had a place downtown.
downtown.....the tree streets..... its all related. mine would totally be underground too. it would be "exclusive"
the cats paw. where do you come up with this stuff. and since when is the direct tv guy the know-it-all for historical information?
seriously. over by the old "hills", whatever that was. its a fact. people have been there. i know.
hills was a store. and you, my dear, are crazy
i'd like to go there. investigate. see what i could find...
you would. dude. there's another car. and a jeep. come to think of it, where did their white car go. i haven't seen it for a few days
its parked outside the cats paw.
funny..... no, really.
you're totally not getting on the list
the list to what??
my "exclusive list". my bouncers will drop you so hard, you'll know exactly where capone lived.
hahahahahahahahaha
i wonder what they're smoking with their little pipe. crack? cocaine? maybe some blow?
ummmmm. thats all the same thing.
seriously?
seriously.
huh.......i bet capone "blew" in his day.
i'm sure he did.

i have arrived. and other blatant lies.

perhaps *arrived* is a smidge presumptuous. but i'm here, at any rate.

breaking in my butt groove, and such.