Archive for pandora’s box

Music Stream…

Mastodon>Fleetwood Mac…that’s indicative of my musical tastes these days. I flip flop genres like um..hmm..can’t settle on one kind of music. It’s nice to be home for the day. Had 5 appointments this week but it seems as though this chapter is closing up. Trying to go to the next chapter. What will it be. Where will I go. What will I see. I know I’m entering some sort of holding pattern. Like a 747 waiting for clearance at an airport. I really should try and switch music right now, cuz I’m not really feeling this…

i’d like to write but I’m not really sure where to go in the time capsule. Things are making me feel like I’m on a roller coaster.

The beauty in the pain

music is playin..the lights are low..the wind chimes are outside..the wind is blowing..the night is’s time to tell  a story and this is how it goes…

Gene Ammons/ Satin Doll

Smooth Jazz…..soft trumpet, pure jazz..sirius radio 72..I highly recommend it…

Getting a tattoo is all about the pain and can you and do you want to handle it. For me, it’s a meditation of sorts. I use meditation and breathing techniques because I know what I’m doing is going to have a life long affect. This is something I am putting into a part of my body, into my skin, for the world to see when I want them to. It’s also very much for a reason, and a purpose that is completely and soley my own. No one makes this decision for you. You don’t just get a tattoo because it’s cool. This is something that has to be very much an alone me kind of decision. I remember when I went to my first one, I reacted in this exact same way. It was somewhat of a ‘turning point’ in my life since I remember it so well.  This time around, I am even happier then the last time. This tattoo is brighter and better too. Even though the other tattoo is still kickin and is bright in it’s own right, this one, this new one, it’s loud, proud and speaks to me.  It’s a very intimate yet public tattoo. I told the internet world as best I could. I don’t know yet who I want to know about this at work.  The roommate has work of his own and he was very appreciative of what we got. The ginger is too ‘heady’ for ‘ink’ and so even though I showed it to me, I don’t think he cares. There are tattoo people, and there arent. No big deal. Doesn’t matter if it ain’t your thing, don’t get me wrong.

This new tattoo is an homage to the 12 years of my life that I dedicated to them.  It’s been 2 years since the last show. 2 years of a new life.  While they aren’t around now, because they broke up with us of course. but even if they were to start playing again, which I know they will, they just have to, it won’t be the same for me. I will go to a show or two, but it will never be what it was, just like I won’t be what I was in those years. It’s time to let go and stop being all dramatic about it. The tattoo is the last. It’s the last number in the 13# program of letting go of something in your life that needs to be let go. Well, maybe not that serious, but that’s sometimes how it feels and this is really me sharing this much of my thoughts. . That part of my life is past now. And this tattoo is there to tell the story for me when I can’t tell it. It’s to tell the world, loud and proud what is a part of me and a part of me forever. When I am 90 years old, I will still be telling stories about driving next to the tour bus and seeing Page open up the curtain and wave at us. We were in two cars, with walkie talkies and pulled a switcheroo so that the other car could see the boys too. They saw us do it, I know they did and so they opened up the curtians for the other car too. It was things like that that made it all so special. They were able to talk to us all. In small and non verbal ways 😉 and we got it and so yea, that is the reason why I got what I did.

I skip around, but 1995, is the year that changed everything.

I turned 21 Feb. of 1995 and quite a few of my friends were underage. I hung out with a large group of people that ranged in ages.

I even hung out with a sister and brother who would sometimes fight when they would come to my place. Never trust those redheads. Those two people made a big impact on my life. I had never been friends with a brother and a sister before. Both redheads too of course. She was your typical suburban college girl and her brother was a stoner. He was also disabled. He had no muscles in his legs and to this day it’s because of him that I don’t hate myself completely. I also had never seen a brother and sister hate each other so much. It eventually got to the point where I would have two separate crowds of people at my house because of this sister/brother combo. The brother’s crew was part of the stereotypical hippie crowd who had stickers all over the back of their cars, they drove around and smoked pot and talked about the Grateful Dead trying to ‘outdead’ each other. I’ll get into a story about that another time <wink>

His sister was one of the coolest chicks I’ve ever known. I was a tomboy and had lost my girly princess side when I knew her so she was like a vision of makeup and padded bras with sparkly things on them. She was also part of the stereotypical college frat/sorority circle of people who drank beer and talked about each other behind their backs. Even she had the stoner couple in her crew. Those two could have taken me to my first phish show but I stupidly said no and went for the boys and the Grateful Dead which I do not regret

I had the only apartment in my circles of friends and so for most of my months living there I was not alone. People would stop by at all time and people seemed to genuinely like me. I even started hanging out with a few girlfriends from highschool and they would come over and hang with the other two circles of friends. It was one of the first party lives of many that I have had in my lifetime. I hope you all party like rock stars for the rest of your life like I want to.

I Digress.

After having such a tough time making friends before college I was very thankful to have such a large circle of different kinds of people who were all somewhat supportive. At this age I was healthly. There were no serious signs of the A.S. and even my thyroid was under control, unlike now. I was a healthy beautiful 21 year old blond college girl living the best part of life, the part after moving out of the home you grew up in. I

You an almost think, that you are seeing double, on a cold dark on a spanish stairs

My apartment was behind a Denny’s and that was just the straw that broke the camels back when i was looking for a place to live. When we would get the munchies and had skiied all day long, we all would run down the stairs and jump into the snow. Jump in my jeep, warm it up, in negative 50 degree windchills, and drive 500 feet to the Denny’s for an all night smoke and coffee session. The liquor and beer store was across the street fromthe Denny’s which made the party apartment just east of the central part of town.

Oh to be in the land of coca-cola.

We celebrated every birthday that year at my apartment. Everyone got a cake and balloons, even my own mom. I still have the picture of her blowing out the candles in my kitchen. I had finally settled down, or so we both thought. Every occaision was occaision enough for a keg in the bathtub and a nice round of truth or dare.

Suddenly, Everything’s gonna be different, when I paint my masterpiece

By the spring of 1995 I took these brand new wings of confidence that had sprouted in the tender care of all my new friends and began to spread my roots into the ground and wave my branches out to those who were offering friendship.

Forgive, I’m not sure I could, they say time heals everything, but I’m still waiting…

I had moved into this apartment after finally leaving an abusive boyfriend after being with him for 2 years. It was actually the second apartment. I had to leave the first one because he knew where I lived and I figured I might be a little bit safer if I lived closed to the family and in an apartment that he didn’t know about. It’s hard sometimes for me to think about those times, but thats for a reason. I think theres enough room in my brain to not deal with that time of my life right now and so I wont.

Ill keep payin, I’m not ready to make nice, I’m not ready to back down, I’m still mad as hell..

And I’m still waitinThat apartment still had somewhat of a dark cloud hanging above it and I eventually left with almost 4 months left on the lease. I paid off the rest of the lease and moved out west with a roommate who was using me for all I had. Both emotionally, mentally, and fiscally.

Goin down the road feelin bad..

By the spring of 1995 I was ready to be social again. I took these brand new wings that had sprouted in the tender care of all my new friends and began spreading my branches out to those who were offering friendship. All those days and nights roll into one in the shadowy recesses of my memories but they are remembered with a fondness of a time that will never be again. I moved from the apartment in one suburb to another apartment in another suburb. This apartment had many perks. It was in a complex right downtown and situated in a perfect spot for a very social place. It was behind a 24 hour eatery and everything was just around the corner. The supermarket, the movie duplex and the mall. It may have seemed like a completely different life as the apartment and job I had been living in. But that apartment still had somewhat of a dark cloud hanging above it. The previous apartment had been a studio where I was living with a roommate. She would sleep on the couch and where my bedroom was, the wall only went up about 3/4 to the cieling. I could get up on my tiptoes and peer over the wall to see what my roomie was doing. That didn’t leave much to the imagination when we had guys over, but it worked until it was time for me to move off to be on my own.In spring of 1994 I was working as a cashier at the local grocery store, but the job didn’t last very long. WEll to be honest, it was me who didn’t last long IN the job. I wasn’t happy and decided to do pizza delivery instead. Little did I know, but I was slowly building up debt because I wasn’t paying attention to my budget, well really ANY budget. I was working every now and then, making cash from tips and a small paycheck every other week but it was not enough to pay the bills. Luckily I was one of those smarter college students and hadn’t opened up a credit card at this point, but I had forgotten to pay the rent. Oh, and lights,tv, radio, heat and stove?? They also were bills that needed to be paid that weren’t getting paid. I’m not sure if it was a matter of me doing it on purpose, or by accident. I was one of those kids lucky enough to get just about anything I wanted while I was growing up. While I didn’t have a brand new BMW like some of my classmates, I was lucky enough to get a car when I turned 16. I didn’t know that it was a different world outside my suburb. I thought that everyone had the same amount of money, dishes got washed on their own, and bills, well, I could always call mom right?

The beginning of the change..part 1

My father passed away in June of 1995, and I found myself with a large chunk of change in the bank a few months after he passed on. He committed suicide, which usually means no insurance payout to the surviving family members. One warm August afternoon, when I trampled down the stairway to the main floor where the mailboxes where, I didn’t know what I was about to find in my mailbox. I had no idea that inside that skinny, silver box with a keyhole was something that would change my path in life forever. Of course What they didn’t know, and possibly couldn’t have known, that giving a 21 year old that much money and a checkbook was just asking for trouble. In my case it would end up being excitement, adventure AND trouble.