Tim, Chris and Me at "The Lit" in OKC 

The cute new bag Shirley gave me... 

Me opening presents at the birthday party they threw for me in OKC

A rose from our garden... 

The face of mortality

As a normal media saturated adult in America today, the face of death shouldn’t seem as shocking to me as it is. I am not desensitized to violence and though my neighborhood was far from upper middle class, I never witnessed any death there.

I remembered seeing the first dead man ever when I was about 13. He was my friend Milo’s father and he died of skin cancer. He didn’t look like he was dying to me… at the time the bald head and thin appearance didn’t seem odd. He still smiled and laughed and when he did eventually succumb to the ravages of cancer at the very young at of 35, the face that lied in the coffin was very similar to the one I had seen all the years before. He was gone, but to me it felt like he was gone on a fishing trip. The absence seemed temporary. I have no idea of the pain that his family felt in the following years. I can’t even imagine it.

I can’t imagine the pain of the woman I saw today, kneeling on the ground by her collapsed husband. Tim and I were leaving the airport this afternoon and just moments before boarding the shuttle, I heard a thud as a very large man hit the pavement next to us. Tim’s face registered confusion for only a moment and then he shot off to find help, when I turned back around a man had started CPR while the wife wailed and kissed her husbands head. I stood frozen, my eyes transfixed on his face. It went from pink to dark red to purple as the wife and the man tried to revive him.

As a military member I am fully trained in CPR. I know the procedures and my knowledge extends to all kind of battle field wound dressing. I tried to recall anything that would help, but I couldn’t think of anything at all. As his color changed, I felt like my heart was going to explode. I couldn’t speak or move. I have never felt so scared in my life. After 8 years of serving and 1 very close call with being sent to Iraq, I have never seen a man dying. I don’t know what happened to that man… the police showed up. We were directed to board the shuttle and we drove away. The last thing I saw was his large body lying motionless on the ground with a crowd hovering around him, and his dark blue face…

Me in my costume... 

Emma and I rockin' out on the karaoke! 

Tim all pimped out as Disco Dtu... 

Me and Emma at the 70's party... 

Me showing off the shoes with my costume...

a fragment of my time...

A little Artie Shaw in the evening, a sugar-free Red Bull to energize my plans for laundry and packing, a little after dinner snog and shower. Tim typing away at his projects trying to wrap up the last of his work before we leave, American Idol, crazy Alabama grammas waving their “Bo Knows” signs, Ryan Seacrest’s freakish botox… Blog surfing, laughing out loud at Ari and Stephanie. That’s my night so far…

The bitches were getting’ me down today! I had a really unpleasant confrontation with a co-worker today. Those are the worst, because then you still have to see them everyday… Anyway, Tim and I are leaving for OKC tomorrow. It’s not much of a vacation, but any time off will do. I am not taking a day off from my diet though. I swear, I’m losing weight, but I feel fatter…go figure. Lena hasn’t brought by the pics yet from my party, but as soon as she does, I’ll get those up. I’ll be sure to take lots of pics of Jon and Casey’s wedding too.

And now to pack…

woody....

I just watched "Crimes and Misdemeanors"....
There is something endearing about his pathos and his embracing of the loser underdog. I don't know... I've always considered him a giant perv, but there is something attractive about the way he pulls people into his neurosis.

Like A Virgin... cont.

I don’t remember how old I was when I first became aware of virginity and what it meant. But in any case, I knew by the time I was in high school that virginity was something that was meant to be a gift to your husband. It is a tangible thing that one hands over at the appropriate time. I’m not talking really about religion or morality here, because I think that most cultures value virginity no matter what their religious beliefs. A lot of value was placed on it in my family. I remember “the talk” with my Mom about how I should wait until my wedding night. I remember being a little perplexed at the idea that anyone would ever want to marry me, let alone take my virginity. That day came a few years later.

I was 16 when I had my first kiss, and by the time I was 18, I’d really only kissed a couple other boys and my first experience where my virginity seemed to be of interest was the summer after I graduated. It wasn’t an obvious play for my innocence, but I knew that if I said yes, it would have happened. It was a little taste of power and of shock. I didn’t realize how desired I would become. I held on for another year after that. I joined the Air Force and made it through Tech School doing all the things girls do to avoid having sex. My boyfriend would take me for romantic strolls at night and attempt to persuade me to join him for negotiations on the 9^th hole of the golf course behind our dorms. I resisted, of course. I was saving myself…. For something, maybe not marriage, but I was planning on making it special. I think back now and I wish I would have just agreed. A warm starry night out in the grassy hills behind the dorms would have been more romantic than the event that was in my future.

On my 19^th birthday, I went to a party in a motel in Baltimore. Motel parties were all the rage in Tech School because none of us were old enough to get into a club and the next best thing was getting off base to drink and hang out with all the other students. My Tech School was a joint service school and all the services were represented in my circle of friends. That night, my boyfriend had watch and so I went out without him. The whole night is a bit blurry in my mind and when I think back, I remember feeling very sorry for myself and lonely. Being away from home is hard and when the only comfort you have are your friends, you are forced to develop trust in people that you don’t actually know very well. This trust may have been the worst choice I ever made. Even worse than drinking underage or agreeing to kiss a boy who was not my boyfriend.

The boy in question was a tall, dark and handsome marine. I had no real acquaintance with him other than a brief chat or two on our smoke deck outside, but he had dated one of my girlfriends for a bit and I considered him to be in my circle of friends. He sauntered up to me in the hallway and said, “Can I kiss the birthday girl?” I remember thinking that it was wrong of me to do so, but I felt flattered that he would even be interested in me and I gave in. The kiss turned into kissing and me being pushed up against the wall in the hallway. He pulled away and lead me down the hall to one of the rooms full of people. I was handed a drink and began to chat with other people in the room and he sat over on one of the beds talking to his friends. The rest gets hazy…

I remember kissing on one of the beds and then noticing that the room has emptied. My clothes were off and we were both lying naked on a sheet on the floor in between the beds. The room was dimly lit and I felt embarrassed about being nude. I sat up and tried to pull the sheets up, and he pulled me back down next to him. We kissed some more and then I start to pass out.

The gift that I am supposed to give my husband weighs heavy on my thin shoulders. Raised with strong morals, I feel a strong pull towards doing right. But that same pull that allows me to do things that aren’t right. I punish my parents and the church and everyone who ever said I wasn’t pretty or whatever. I want to prove that I am nothing like anyone thought. The words to extricate myself from this situation won’t come to my brain though. I can’t speak. I can’t think clearly. I can’t remember his name. I can’t remember my name. I sleep. I wake. I can’t breathe. I see him above me and a sharp stabbing feeling. I close my eyes. I know what is happening and I’ve stopped caring. His hand covers my mouth and he tells me to be quiet.

I awoke on the floor beside him and sat up carefully so as not to wake him. The white sheet was still below me and is stained with a large spot of dried blood. I calmly remembered the night before and stood to find my clothes. I went to the bathroom and washed up with a washcloth and noticed a dirty one in the corner already stained with a bit of blood. I felt a choking feeling in my throat and the feeling of shame and regret swell inside my stomach. I got dressed quickly and noticed as I pulled on my clothes that my inner thighs and breasts were covered in bruises and my bottom lip was black and blue. I felt so humiliated. I thought maybe I could just deny everything and no one would ever know. I could go back to my room and pretend like nothing ever happened. “He must have thought I was disposable. If I had been prettier, he never would have tried this.” Now everyone would know that I lost my virginity with some guy who wasn’t my boyfriend or even someone I cared about. I had gone from a virgin to a slut in one night.

Cleaning up the social mess that occurred after this particular night was not easy task. I set about denying anything had really happened. My boyfriend knew. He didn’t seem to blame me, but it was clear that things were pretty much over between us after that. I was relieved that my orders had come for Montana and I was to leave in just three days. I didn’t leave my room except for chow and told no one of what had really happened. Everyone assumed I was another willing conquest and I figured that put me in better company than being the “raped girl” that everyone would remember. I didn’t want to see or talk to him ever again, but the night before I left town I went out for a smoke and he was there. He sat down next to me one the picnic table and nonchalantly said, “Sorry about the other night… “ patted me on the shoulder and walked away.

I left town the next morning. No one sitting next to me on the plane knew that I no longer had my gift. I didn’t have anything. I would have nothing to offer my future husband…whoever he might be. I wish someone would have told me that virginity wasn’t that big of a deal. It would have made me feel so much better.

I believe that morality dictates that we behave in ways that are honorable and forthright. It’s what parents want for their children. Health, happiness and love. I want my daughter to know that virginity is really only a gift to yourself. It’s not something you save for someone else. It’s something that is symbolic of the best things human children represent. Innocence and the fortitude to protect your own innocence is to be commended, but giving of yourself to someone you love is just as great. I didn’t love him then, but my boyfriend at the time was someone who I consider to be a quality person. We became good friends after that and corresponded for many years. We don’t talk anymore really, but the time I spent with him years later and the friendship he continued to give me, tells me that he would have been a good choice. But I didn’t know that then and I don’t suppose it would have made a world of difference. I don’t blame anyone anymore for my bad choices that night, or his for that matter. I can’t change that memory. I don’t suppress it, I own it. I don’t share it for sympathy, I share it for knowledge. I would hate to think I went though all that and it was of no use.

I am more than a sum of my parts. I am more than my virginity, lost or found. My sex is just an expression of love. If you love, then you win. If you allow yourself to be used because you feel your only worth is between your legs, then you lose. It’s as simple as that.

Tim's new white gold wedding band. It' so awesome...You can't see the detail that well in this pic, but the center is hammered metal. It's so much better than the sterling silver one i got him when we first got married. :)  

The band Tim bought me to go with my engagement ring... A gift for our 1 year anniversary. :) Doesn't the set look pretty??!! 

Trudging back to the car at 2:00 am... 

Us at the theater... 

Emma, In front of Hard Rock Cafe... 

Can you smell what the Rock is cookin?

Cause it smelled a lot like ass and feet. SO last night, my sis Emma nd I had planned out going out dancing at The Church. Then I remembered at the last minute that their 18+ night was only on Fridays. One of the only of the only other places in Denver that has an 18+ night is Rock Island. I tried to research the place online, but reviews were mixed. I figured…How bad could it suck? Famous last words…

It sucked so bad. I can’t even begin to tell you how bad. First of all the cover was 10 bucks, and as I’m paying the guy says that they don’t start serving drinks until 11:30. Damn. So we walk in to what can only be described as a large unfinished basement, with a huge logo painted on the wall, and at least 500 teenagers grinding on each other. There was no air conditioning and it was STICKY in there. We both looked at each other like, what the hell. So we stood by the bar for a while just marveling at the grossness of it all, and wondering how old these kids all really were. They had to be 18, but they looked 12. Just as we were about to leave, we hear the DJ yell, “Let me hear all the Seniors in the hooooooooooooooooouse!” … The whole room started whooping. We just looked at each other and high tailed it out of there.

Poor Emma. To be under 21 in the city sucks. There is so much to do when you are just a bit older… Thank God we have the Church. As horrible as Rock Island was, the Church is that much cooler. It’s HUGE for one thing. I’m not sure how many separate dance floors they have, but, It’s big enough that you never feel too crowded. And they have actual go-go dancers and shows… The DJ’s spin different stuff on each floor in each room… They have a sushi bar in there for cryin’ out loud. It’s really got to be one of the best dance clubs in Denver.

Anyway, so instead of going home, we ended up going to the movies. She wanted to see Star Wars, but I had already seen it on Friday night with Tim, so we hit up Monster-In-Law. That movie was surprisingly funny. J.Lo was bland at best, and don’t even get me started on her milque-toast fiancé…But Jane Fonda as the mother-in-law… Freaking hilarious. Nobody plays a crazy bitch better than her. So yeah, we didn’t get home until late, and for some reason I was unable to sleep in… *sigh* Ah well… I took a couple pics of me and Emma, I’ll post those up in a bit.

Levi as "Hunter S. Thompson", you can't see the fly swatter in this picture, but it's there. :) 

The Jeff and The Jackie 

Jen and Tay as "Drunken Prom Queen and Drunken Janis Joplin" 

The King and Queen of the Disco 

Sam, Tim, and Jeff as "Starsky, Stu and Hutch" 

Tim and Me 

Me as "Sexxy Cleopatra" (the blonde version of Foxxy Cleopatra) 

Tim as "Disco Stu" 

I got the lonesome after-party blooooohooohooooooozzzzzz…

Well it’s the morning after my birthday party. I couldn’t sleep in this morning…my brain wakes me up like clockwork at 0630 every morning, no matter how late I’ve stayed up. I’m suffering from a bit of after-birthday let down. It was a brilliant party and last week when Tim took me out it was amazing too, but now…. *sigh* No more parties, I’m just living life as a 26 year old. I can’t believe I’m this old. How did it happen? How did become the 26 year old married girl… I’m starting to feel my age in my body too. Actually, that might just be the bruises from doing a total face plant on the dance floor last night. I fell so hard that my wig popped off. It was so funny, yet it hurt so bad, I was crying and laughing at the same time.

Anyway, it doesn’t help that my ankles are bad, my right wrist is sore all the time, my right hip clicks when I walk and losing weight is getting harder and harder. Ah, yep….aging is such a bitch. :) I am so glad that I have Tim. He makes all this getting older stuff seem so unimportant. He’s such an awesome person. I wonder sometimes with all the total dill-holes I dated how I ended up with someone so right. He takes such good care of me. I can’t believe how hard he tries to make me happy. It’s so crazy. I feel, most of the time that I just don’t deserve it. He worked so hard on my party last night. He helped me decorate, he worked the room he set up the lights and more lights and the music. *sigh* He such a giant sweetheart. :)

I think everyone had a great time… I’m going to scan in some pics from the costume contest, and I’ll upload some pics of my costume soon. I actually didn’t take many pics with my camera, but I know Lena did, so I’ll have to get some from her. *yawn* guess I’ll go get some breakky wekky. Quietly…. Everyone else is still sleeping…those lucky dogs.

The Truth

My birthday was on Wednesday. I’m officially 26. I suppose it’s typical to say that I don’t feel old, and it’s true, I don’t. I just seem old to everyone around me. I was at the clinic last week because I’m switching to ortho evra. I’ve been on the pill for year and years and with my newly hectic schedule, It’s just getting too hard to remember to take it every day. Anyway, while I was at the clinic my friend Taylor made some crack about me getting older and how I should be having kids before I’m thirty.

My confession is that I’m not sure I want to be a parent. I’m not sure I want to have any kids ever. I spent a good portion of my life when I was living at home with my parents taking care of babies. I’ve done the diapers. I’ve wiped more asses then I care to mention. And Tim and I live this awesome life where we work hard during the week, we entertain on the weekends… we have lots of nice things that are breakable and our life in general has too many sharp edges for babies. Maybe in five years I’ll feel different, but right now, I just want to be a D.I.N.K. as long as possible. (Dual Income, No kids) Is that wrong? ( My other confession… I don’t really want a dog either. I think puppies are cute…but ugh, all that poop you gotta clean up in the yard…)

Maybe I’m just hugely selfish, but I would prefer to spend all my love and affection on my husband. At least I’m sure he will always appreciate it. Kids always start out cute, but inevitably end up hating you. I can’t deal with that right now. Plus, if we have a baby, then that means we will have less money for sushi. And, well, you all know how I feel about sushi.

Paka hanging over the door. He's such a ham... :) 

This year on my 26th Birthday.... 

Tim and I last year on my 25th Birthday... 

The lovely naked breasts that accompanied our meal... 

Tim as "loco con queso" 

woooohoooo cinco con queso???? 

Charlies Angels and Sheila 

Me and Lena 

Brad and Katrina's "Cinco De Mayo" faces... 

Tim’s rocking out downstairs. He got a music order and he’s been playing guitar all afternoon. That’s his job. Making amazing music. It’s good work if you can get it.

It’s Cinco De Mayo today. It’s not the holiday of my ancestors, but just like how everyone is Irish on St. Patty’s day, tonight, I’m am going to fiesta it up with the best of them. How do they say it, EN FUEGO!!!! Anyway, we are hitting up Mezcal tonight. I don't know what it's like, but Justin says it's across from the Blue Bird. Yes, the former porno theater Bluebird. Too be fair, it's not porno anymore, but you get the idea of the neighboorhood. Good times...

morning glory

I feel so garbagy this morning. I think it was the sketchy chicken salad at Old Chicagos. After getting sick last weekend from a panini sandwich from Safeway, I'm going to swear off eating out. Doesn't anyone is this city wash their hands? Blech....

(a poem about the aerial dancers at the church)

twisting around
floating up and downhanging by her will
from the ceiling
crowds stare agape
at her acrobatics
her miraclulous thighs twisting
around miles of purple satin
trailing from on high
the center of this cathedral
disapproving saints look on sternly
approving boys look on eagerly
her finale looks
like a fall from grace
and she lands
perfectly
the crowd gasps
screams
applauds
and she saunters out
barefoot
swinging her velvet and sequin ass.

Night Owl Nights

On Friday night I decided to take Emily out to “The Church”. It’s this giant club that is built inside an old Catholic church. They have 18+ nights on Fridays, so I decided we’d hit the town with my friend Taylor. We got all dressed up, (Emma looked so cute) and headed down, and I smartly packed my little camera to document the night. Um, yeah…forgot my memory card so I’ve got nothing to show for that night. Well, except for sore legs and butt. We danced for about 4 hours straight. I think Emma had a great time. She met some cute boys, got lots of attention and saw a cool show. They had a cirque de soleil type dancer there doing acrobatics while hanging from the ceiling on long pieces of fabric. All in all, a super fun night...

Emma getting her hair cut at the 3rd Ave Salon...This is our favorite hairstylist Genevieve...back off boys, she's taken!