Chasing Dragons with a Plastic Sword: (and winning!)

Over on, Renegade Evolution, she’s having an interesting discussion about history and the Roman Empire. Keeping with this theme, let’s discuss history, revolution, and Eastern Europe, shall we?

During my travels this summer, I’ll be heading to the Czech Republic and Slovakia. Wasn’t it not so long ago that we were referring to the Czech Republic and Slovakia as Czechoslovakia? It would seem so. It wasn’t until 1993 that the country split into two. How Czechoslovakia first came into being is confusing enough, without adding the split.

In the good old days, (pre-1918) Czechoslovakia was part of Austria/Hungary. Then after WW I, the landscape changed. It was a democratic republic up until WWII, when things shifted again. Hitler took over, and the Slovak part of the country was an ally of the Nazi regime. However, a Czech government-in-exile continued to function in London even while Hitler was in power. In 1948, communism flourished and atheism was also promoted. The communists remained in power until 1989, when the Velvet Revolution occurred.

As my readers know, I love revolution, in general. It’s through these extreme profound events that change is produced. It’s radical, it’s unusual, and damn it, I like it.

The Velvet Revolution was six-week period in Czechoslovakia where citizens protested peacefully to overthrow the communist government. In Prague, 200,000 protesters took it to the streets in response to an earlier student demonstration in which the riot police stopped their peaceful insurgence through the use of force. During the students’ demonstration, 167 were injured by riot police and it was even rumored that one student was killed.

Conditions in communist Czechoslovakia, in relation to their Western neighbors, had been deteriorating for quite sometime. The people were unhappy with their single-party government. This unrest flourished largely after the fall of Berlin Wall, so the atmosphere was ripe for change. Massive demonstrations continued, as fellow Czechs joined together to give the communist leaders the boot.

A few weeks later the communist President resigned and a new democratic government was established. New standards for human rights, property ownership, business law, and freedom were recognized and legalized.

This is inspiring on many different levels. Czech students and citizens were able to alter the course of their destiny and the future destiny of others through their actions. AND it was peaceful. This happened only 17 years ago, so it’s not that far removed from our reality today. By golly, people can make a difference.

The “I don’t care about your marriage” post.

“And the license said you had to stick around until I was dead
But if you're tired of looking at my face, I guess I already am” - Divorce Song, Liz Phair

How many hideously trite conversations about marriage should I have to endure in one day?

Conversation observed in my office’s lunch room:

Balding middle-aged guy: “You know Bob and Shelia have been together for 70 years!”

To which the rest of the room replied with their random “Oh’s and Ah’s, and Wow’s”.

I could feel the chunks rising in my throat as I tried to keep my lunch down. Readers, it was hard. Stare at the same person for 70 years? Why, I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a pairing-knife.

What is it about our culture that celebrates this monotony, this willingness to submit ourselves to routine till death do we part? How can this be fun or even remotely enjoyable? It’s not that I have a problem with individual marriages per se, as I am sure Bob and Shelia are just tickled pink with one another. Good for them. However, I would argue that marriage, as an institution/societal structure, is PURE BULLSHIT.

The truth is men need marriage more than women.

There, I said it.

Now, I’m not commenting on previous generations, during which men and women managed to tolerate each other for a whole slew of fucked up reasons (for women: lack of economic, political, social power, for men: cheap unpaid domestic labor, women as status symbols ect..oh, and to avoid the stigma of divorce) Even though this still occurs, women can own property, vote, get paid a decent wage, get an education, and have domain over their bodies through reproductive freedom. The tables have turned, at least in the US and Western Europe. So, what is it about marriage that’s appealing today now that it’s not being used as a tool for survival (in most cases)?

Well, there are still those damn societal expectations. We are to A) Get Married, B) Have Children, and C) Die Quickly and Efficiently as to not trouble others (i.e. the state or relatives). Along the way we are to acquire as many possessions as possible while using as many resources as possible. Yes, Americans, Shop, Have Babies, and please, Don’t Ask Too Many Questions. In that order.

Marriage, as an institution, is supposedly a rite of passage we are told (especially women) that we should be more than eager to partake in. It’s sold to us just like all the other trash out there. The Las Vegas quickie, the 6 month mistake, and yes, even the 70 year snore- fest, all have their place in our consumer-driven society. The marriage business is big business, diamonds, the dresses, the food, the party, all add up. Yes, there are those who elope reducing the time, money, and energy spent, but still, there is a lot of money being exchanged for a fairy tale. From the white dress to the obnoxiously large cake, it’s all gravy baby.

Then, there’s the whole issue of what to do once you are married. Do you sit in silence and stare absent-mindedly at the same person for the rest of your natural life? I think my generation is particularly lost on this issue. Marriage, as a structure, may provide support in the context of childrearing, but other than that, why bother? I understand the practical elements of insurance, retirement planning ect… but for a girl like me, with my own insurance, my own retirement accounts, financial acumen and the skills to make a decent living for myself, what is the point?

For me, marriage as an institution was irrelevant from day one. I never wanted to put my well-being (financial, or otherwise) in the mercy of another’s hand. It seems foolish and most of all, boring.

Although Bob and Shelia, I’m sure, have enjoyed their 70 years together, it’s not to say everyone else would. I’d probably suffocate slowly, dying just a little each day as my independence was stripped from me, moment by moment.

Dramatic? Maybe. But all the same, I think I’ll pass.

George Bush and Female Desire

(Not a likely combo you say?)

This fucking incompetent irresponsible administration, with its lies, corruption, and greed, has gone too far. Democrats have given George the Finger, and there’s no turning back. Today, ACTUAL legislation passed in the House in a 218-212 vote which provided for a time table to bring the troops home. It’s hard to tell if the Senate will pass it, but it’s a start. Bush has said he will veto the measure if it ends up on his desk. Everything negative that could be said about this president has already been said. Soooo, I’ll spare you the “he’s a trigger happy war mongering obstinate fool who needs to remove his head from his ass” speech.

Ahem.

Now that I’ve got that off my chest, back to the babes. It is, after all, female desire week. Let’s not waste anymore time.

OBJECTS OF DESIRE: The Musical: Act II

How could I forget these two? I seem to have a preference for brunettes, with blue eyes, that is.

But, as my friend Julie would say, “I don’t discriminate, I’m an equal-opportunity destroyer.” Indeedy, Julie.

Rachel Yamagata




Amy Lee




Next, I’d like to continue with some cinematic duos of female desire. Here are my most recent two.

Loving Annabelle- Diane Gaidry, Erin Kelly




This could very well be my life story. Teacher falls for hot young student- so delicious, yet completely inappropriate and naughty.

My Summer of Love- Natalie Press and Emily Blunt



Hell, Emily Blunt by herself works for me too. Yikes- she’s sexy.





*Turns off movie projector and turns on the lights*

Time for a cold shower.

OBJECTS OF DESIRE: The Musical

“I know you've seen her
She's a sad tomato
She's three miles of bad road
Walking down the street
Will I never meet her?” - Crush With Eyeliner, R.E.M.

Since Cassandra Says has declared it Female Desire Week, and others have followed suit, I thought I’d throw my two cents into the ring. Female Desire Week reminds us all that women aren’t just tools of the patriarchy, that we too can be initiators of “the gaze”.

I cannot speak for all women, but at least I know I’m not dead inside. I’d like to actually, you know, enjoy my sexual activities, whether it is with a man or woman.

And, oh, on the whole man or woman topic. As most of my readers know, I’m bisexual. If you’ve been reading my blog for some time you’ve probably noticed that I have a tendency to get involved with more men (whether sexually, emotionally, relationships.. whatever) then women. And when friends call they say, “Meet any cute guys lately?” or “any special guy in your life?” Inevitably, I have some random guy-story to relay to them. Blah Blah Blah.

Not that I don’t like or don’t fantasize about certain men, because I do. BUT, it gets old. If I had my way, I’d alternate between the two genders. This week men, next week women, and so forth. In a perfect world, I could Take a Sample from Every Platter when ever I wanted, AND not feel guilty about it.

But why do I feel like Mom just slapped my hand as I reached into the cookie jar?

For some reason, Desire, especially has been a central issue for me. Certainly, I’ve been known to frolic in the garden while tasting everything in sight. Most partners would like to keep my frolicking to a minimum or eliminate it altogether. I am not comfortable with this for several reasons. But, mostly because It’s So Freaking Boring! I love the chase, the moment where nothing is certain and adrenaline is high. I realize this resembles the classic feelings of a girl with a middle school crush, but hell, don’t we all like our love dressed up and all idealistic? Cause I know when reality creeps in, that’s the kiss of death for me. It ruins the expectation of a perfect union, and well, I’m just not that interested in settling. Delusional? Maybe. Hopeful? Always.

And so, I digress.

Anyway, here are some other tantalizing gaze-inspirers from a previous post for your viewing pleasure. And I do mean pleasure.

This, however, is the Music Edition. And since there are so many sizzling desirous musicians , I had a lot of material to work with.

I’ve grouped them into categories for organizational purposes, of course.

OBJECTS OF DESIRE: The Musical

Hot Girls with Guitars (and an occasional Piano):

Tristan Prettyman





Regina Spektor



Neko Case



Hot women who should beat me with a whip:

Rose McGowen (I realize she is not a musician, but I couldn’t resist)

Alison Goldfrapp





A Threesome I wouldn’t mind participating in:

The White Stripes





Group Gropes I would definitely attend:

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs



PJ Harvey, Bjork, Tori



And shocking as it is, one singular man:

Ray Lamontagne




Standing ovation, close curtain.

Killing in the name of

Christ Kills Two, Injures Seven In Abortion-Clinic Attack

Giuliani or Obama?

This weekend my sister and I had an interesting discussion about the forerunners for the 2008 presidential election. It’s no secret; I’m a big Barack Obama fan. His presidental platform, “HOPE. ACTION. CHANGE.”, is an inspiring message, which we all need to embrace during this dark era in our history. In a recent campaign speech, Senator Obama said, “"We are here today because the country calls us, we are here today because history beckons us, we are here today because we face a series of challenges as significant, as daunting as any generation has faced." He then added, "There's a better future for America.” And I couldn’t agree more.

Senator Obama has consistently spoken out against the war in Iraq. In a speech in 2002 he said,

“After September 11, after witnessing the carnage and destruction, the dust and the tears, I supported this administration's pledge to hunt down and root out those who would slaughter innocents in the name of intolerance, and I would willingly take up arms myself to prevent such tragedy from happening again. I don't oppose all wars. What I am opposed to is a dumb war. What I am opposed to is a rash war. What I am opposed to is the cynical attempt by Richard Perle and Paul Wolfowitz and other armchair, weekend warriors in this administration to shove their own ideological agendas down our throats, irrespective of the costs in lives lost and in hardships borne. What I am opposed to is the attempt by political hacks like Karl Rove to distract us from a rise in the uninsured, a rise in the poverty rate, a drop in the median income, to distract us from corporate scandals and a stock market that has just gone through the worst month since the Great Depression.”

AND

“You want a fight, President Bush? Let's fight to wean ourselves off Middle East oil through an energy policy that doesn't simply serve the interests of Exxon and Mobil. Those are the battles that we need to fight. Those are the battles that we willingly join. The battles against ignorance and intolerance. Corruption and greed. Poverty and despair. The consequences of war are dire, the sacrifices immeasurable. We may have occasion in our lifetime to once again rise up in defense of our freedom, and pay the wages of war. But we ought not - we will not - travel down that hellish path blindly. Nor should we allow those who would march off and pay the ultimate sacrifice, who would prove the full measure of devotion with their blood, to make such an awful sacrifice in vain.”

Giuliani, on the other hand, at the Republican National Convention in 2004, said,

“On September 20, 2001, President Bush stood before a joint session of Congress, a still grieving and shocked nation and a confused world, and he changed the direction of our ship of state. He dedicated America, under his leadership, to destroying global terrorism. The president announced the Bush Doctrine, when he said, "Our war on terror begins with al Qaeda, but it does not end there. It will not end until every terrorist group of global reach has been found, stopped and defeated. Either you are with us or you are with the terrorists. And since September 11, President Bush has remained rock solid.It doesn't matter to him how he is demonized. It doesn't matter what the media does to ridicule him or misinterpret him or defeat him. They ridiculed Winston Churchill. They belittled Ronald Reagan. But like President Bush, they were optimists. Leaders need to be optimists. Their vision is beyond the present, and it's set on a future of real peace and security. Some call it stubbornness. I call it principled leadership. President Bush has the courage of his convictions.”

And on February 11, 2007, Giuliani made other comments about his faith in Bush as a leader. An article by Michael Finnegan, Times Staff Writer, states,

"Republican presidential hopeful Rudolph W. Giuliani praised President Bush's war leadership on Saturday and mocked supporters of a nonbinding congressional resolution condemning the U.S. troop buildup in Iraq. The former New York City mayor came to Bush's defense as he promoted his White House candidacy at a California Republican convention. Drawing parallels between Iraq and America's Civil War, Giuliani compared Bush's political troubles to Abraham Lincoln's. When the Civil War was unpopular, Giuliani said, Lincoln "kept his eye ahead." "He (Lincoln) was able to say, 'I know my people are frustrated, and I know my people are angry at me.' " But after weighing public opinion, Lincoln had "that ability that a leader has — a leader like George Bush, a leader like Ronald Reagan — to look into the future," Giuliani said. Giuliani's defense of the currently unpopular president comes as he is portraying himself as a decisive leader unafraid to buck public opinion."

Conversely, Senator Obama, stands behind his Iraq War De-Escalation Act of 2007, which provides for a time table for withdrawal from Iraq that is both practical and functional. His De-Escalation Act can be viewed here.

Rather than attacking Guiliani for decisions made in his personal life, I would instead like to focus on his “iron-fist” style of leadership. Several Guiliani insiders and analysts have pointed out his tendency to surrounded himself with “Yes, Rudy” men, isolating himself from contradictory view points and opinions. Does this sound familiar? George W. Bush part duex anyone?

Guiliani, once a lame duck mayor, saw his popularity catapult after the events of 9/11. While George Bush was hiding in a bunker on September 11th, Guiliani appeared on the news as both a confident and comforting presence which the American people desperately need at that time.

However, what America needs now is way out of a horrendous war started on the premise of a lie. Guiliani rides the wave of his “perceived 9/11 heroism” and continues to support the Bush agenda. This is just more of the same shit. I cannot see how another “iron-fisted” war-happy aggressive personality would benefit our country.

So Guiliani is pro-choice and socially moderate, I’m willing to give him that. But, so is Senator Obama, PLUS he understands how this ill-conceived war is affecting America and is taking action to put a stop to it. And that’s a dude I wouldn’t mind voting for.

Spaced-Out Dreamy Nonsensical Noise

The pope and his folks got us under a scope
But for unknown reasons cuz we don’t sell dope
That you distribute, we don’t contribute, to your clandestine
activity, my soliloquy, may be hard for some to swallow

-Wheelz of Steel, ATLiens, 1996

For all of you former midnight tokers out there, do you ever have an overwhelming urge to smoke again?

Spring Equinox always fills me with the desire to pack my bags and head to the Hills for a serious smoke fest with friends. I remember when I was in college, sitting on my favorite rock by my hidden little waterfall while the sun warmed my face. High as a kite, I sat for hours and watched the clouds.

Or, when my best friend and I parked my 1988 Monte Carlo on a gravel road, rolled the windows up, and smoked our brains out. The windows were tinted a black/blue hue, and they shook and rattled while we listened to my new Outkast CD. “Touched by the wheels of steel, now show me how you feel…” echoed in background over their spacey new age-ey hip-hop beats.

Last night I was thinking about altered states and the “body buzz”. For me it was the euphoria, a feeling of being weightless and without conscious ego that really floored me. When my boundaries dissolved and I was absorbed into/and with nature it felt like unity was possible.

Divine union with others (sex), ourselves (masturbation), god (nature worship, for some), is what it’s all about. I think all human beings (even the most callous) have a need for reunion with The Source, and we all use various methods (and yes, sometimes addictions) when we reach for it.

It was so easy to “get there” as child. In those days, I would lie in the grass and walk through my grandmother’s garden and get lost for hours. I literally felt as though I was being absorbed into the landscape. It wasn’t hard to forge a connection between myself and the Earth then because it was there already, vibrating with me.

In adulthood, the methods aren’t as natural, and the consequences are potentially destructive. In attempting to fill the bottomless pit of “need” and “union”, many will allow the protective veil of fantasy to dominate their lives through addictions. And since addictions represent the ultimate denial of reality coupled with a refusal to participate in life, addicts, in their empty shells, desperately cling to the void of nothingness.

But the problem is, Joy, or Union with the Divine, cannot be held in the palm of our hands, at least not for any great length of time. This is, in fact, an Earthly incarnation. Eventually, we must all return from the garden, come back to reality, and face the inevitable. This requires a certain amount of trust in life (to every season, there is a turn, turn, turn), because we all face the same anxiety about life and our place here.

If I could re-do the D.A.R.E. speech I gave in 5th grade, I would’ve included some of things above. And I would’ve ended with, “Fellow classmates, some of us will experiment, some of us will become addicts, and some of us will never touch a drug in during our life span, but all of us, at some point, will experience the need to reunite with the divine, let’s not fuck it up by forgetting where we came from.”

Say It Right

Witness My Favorite Creatrixes Dominating:

Sylvia Plath

Kiss me and you will see how important I am.

Out of the ash I rise with my red hair and eat men like air

Dorothy Parker

Razors pain you; Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful; Nooses give;
Gas smells awful; You might as well live.

Anne Sexton

You are a roast beef I have purchased
and I stuff you with my very own onion.

As for me, I am a watercolor.
I wash off.

Unto the bellies and jaws
of rats I commit my prophecy and fear.
Far below The Cross, I correct its flaws.

Marge Piercy

The will to be totally rational
is the will to be made out of glass and steel:
and to use others as if they were glass and steel.

Tori Amos

God, sometimes you don’t come through. Do you need a woman to get to you?

Everybody knows you can conjure anything by the dark of the moon.

Boys are cute, but food is cuter.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply

Margaret Cho

I went through this whole thing, you know. I was like: Am I gay? Am I straight? And then I realized I'm just slutty. Where's my parade? What about Slut Pride?

Eat Lead for Breakfast

Self-Indulgent, Self-Important, Self-Made, Self-Modified, Self-Described, Self-Supported, Self-Worth, Self-esteem, Self-Centered, Self-Motivated, Self- Desecrated, Self-Destructive, Self-Serving, Self-Identified bullshit

Yo hipsters, forgive me for I have sinned, its been two days since my last confession.

Wait, this isn’t mass? SH-IA-T. Wrong again.

Does anyone else feel like they’re living in a dream? Maybe it’s the sun’s annual tour through Pisces that leaves us all feeling mildly intoxicated. Who knows.

Then again, I have known (and dated) enough Pisces to form my own school of fish, so it is an energy I’m familiar with. What is it about the artistic creative sensitive redeemer type that pulls me in every time?

In other random musings, I’ve never dated a guy plus all of his friends at one time. Not that I don’t love, Bob, Rob and Tom tagging along on EVERY single social function and personal visits to my home, but it’s starting to border on the lines of ridiculous.

Good thing I have a full supply of bartenders to keep me occupied.

No Stopping for Nicotine

Monday, oh Monday, how I hate thee, let me count the ways.
It’s Sally S here, waxing poetic on your ass.
This weekend was fluffy, little substance, little action, but heavy with the promise of many new dalliances to come. Yes readers, more ruminations on Sally’s romantic follies, just what you wanted! Hurrah!

I seemed to have raised favor with a specific hottie bartender, an American, no less. But I sorta like his big bad brain. Anyway, on that note, here is a note from me to you.

Love is a bastard art
its simple graffiti pulling at the strings of some heart now gone
its deadly infection stuck in the milky glaze of a long blaze
a fire swirling down some poor soft throat
and after a day of solitude
it will come home just to find the lips of its beloved
running over a pair of thorned roses
love is a dying art
its participants empty and cold
the drama unfolding its beautiful and pure scene
sometimes renting is better
when you’re thinking of leaving
and sometimes a hug is better than a fuck
still, love is a bastard art, and I, its divorced sun
stand waiting for it to come home

Sexual Health, Desire, and the Modern Woman

One HER-story

To experience and engage in feminine desire is a natural human tendency. Repressing and shaming desire is tool used by men (and some hyper-critical judgmental women) to denounce our right to full personhood as human beings. Religious leaders have been playing this game since forever. A co-worker once expressed that the pain women feel during child birth is the punishment women must face for Eve’s original apple-eating sin. Remember this came from the mouth of an educated, otherwise normal woman. Even in a supposedly “modern” society with intellectually evolved people, these archaic beliefs still exist. There are many ways our tightly-held unexamined beliefs are contributing to negativity, on a personal and collective level.

But, beyond this negativity, the question I’d like to ask is, how can we make room for the expression of healthy desire in our lives?

I started educating myself about sex, sexuality, and desire at a fairly young age. My mom had the “Our Bodies, Ourselves” book front and center on the book shelf at home. I used to pour through it, reading and re-reading passages when I was in 5th/6th grade. I taught myself about menstruation, masturbation, and of course, the mechanics of sex. I also shared information with others by talking with friends, neighbors, and my sisters on the topic, in a very matter of fact type of way. In addition, I showed each of my sisters how to insert a tampon, took them to get birth control, and of course had the good ol’ bird and the bee’s discussion with them. Did I find any shame in this? No, it was all very natural, healthy, responsible and NECESSARY.

Admittedly, I’ve had moments in my own sexual past that are less than admirable. I’ve dis-respected myself by letting others use me as a tool for their own enjoyment. Hell, I’ve used others as a tool for my own enjoyment too. But, that is the past, and I’m not anchoring myself to it. I’ve learned a great deal from it as well. Ever the curious girl, I started experimenting with sex/sexuality at a very early age, and I made some bad choices, which is to be expected when one starts as early as I did. Yet, I am an adult now and I’ve changed.

What’s emerging in me now is a very aware, honest, healthy sexuality. I’m finding myself much more eager to explore different dimensions of desire and the feelings that go with it. This has involved reclaiming my body, desire, and sexuality as my own, educating myself about my body, and applying it to my sexual relationships with partners/self.

For example, the other night my partner and I had a very intense make out session. Silk sheets, candle light, music, the whole nine yards. I felt safe, respected, and well, sexy.

But on other nights, we’ve also explored other avenues of desire in a more frenzied, animalistic fashion. I can’t say that my new awareness is attributable to my partner, as I sense something inside of me has shifted, which reaches beyond the scope of the relationship.

Any other thoughts on healthy desire?

Prudes or Prunes?

All dried out and laid before you.

Excessive shame and sexual repression aside, you really gotta love those prunes, I mean prudes. You know, prudes- the women who strictly judge other women based on what they wear, who they sleep with, and how they generally approach their sexuality.

Cots? I think not.

Earlier today my boss suggested the idea of filling our offices with roll out beds so we could all stay and continue to work through the storm. To which I replied, “Sir, kindly go fuck yourself.” No, but seriously, I drove home and here’s as far as I got...

The wind is wrapping around my house in tight embrace, squeezing the life from any thoughts about the possibility of an early spring. Plus, I’ve got travel plans for Eastern Europe stuck to the hallow walls inside head. My lagging reality is always two steps behind the moment I’m in. Still, cars fill these dangerous roads and mishaps abound. Spinning around on the city streets, we feel closer to our fated mortality, it’s all very tragic, in an “I’m sitting at home with my computer enjoying the rich comforts of American imports while you’re out there suffering” kind of way.

Today I’ve realized I’m fairly uncomfortable with living outside of my demanding schedule. Although we often need escape from the drill of the day, and a snow day is often a welcome diversion from our dull, lackluster, left-brained world, what will we do with our free time?

Well, first of all, I’ve downloaded a ton of great music from iTunes and will be making cd’s for all of my favorite lovelies. Isn’t music a great way to share joy and get caught up in a silent reverie?

The wind, the music, the silence, has brought on a wave of sentimentalism, which lately comes in a flood of memories about my dad. When I was a little girl, he would fall asleep on the floor after a long day’s work and I’d curl up next him, with my arm around him while he slept until dinner was ready. I remember all the silly nicknames he made up for my sister’s and I, and the car rides we’d take down “tickle tummy” road, and all the painful little knots that formed in my stomach every time he left.

On a colorless gray morning I remember my mom calling to tell me he was dead. And then the car ride, holding back my tears, walking into my sister’s apartment, I felt like the one who had died. And for days after I lay in bed, curled up in John’s arms, wishing for the kind of comfort he could never give. And the fights, my God, they were terrific. I was drowning in my grief and poor John was swept along in my sadness. The months that followed were quite possibly the darkest, and when the nightmares persisted, I finally learned to leave the lights on.

The fact is, my dad was a complex man with a complex history, and I’ve had to think long and hard about what it has meant to be his daughter. Even so, there are many gifts from it all, which I have received in abundance, and I carry that part of him with me.

The odd part about death is that it often releases pent up energy that had been previously tied to the departed. Life is accelerated and REAL growth is finally achieved. For me, it amounted to a hell of a lot of forgiveness, which pretty much, in the end, is about love.

Forgiveness- Patty Griffin

We are swimming with the snakes at the bottom of the well
So silent and peaceful in the darkness where we fell
But we are not snakes and what's more we never will be
And if we stay swimming here forever we will never be free
I heard them ringing the bells in heaven and hell
They got a secret they're getting ready to tell
It's falling from the skies
It's calling from the graves
Open your eyes boy, I think we are saved
Open your eyes boy, I think we are saved
Let's take a walk on the bridge right over this mess
Don't need to tell me a thing baby, we already confessed
And I raised my voice to the air
And we were blessed
It's hard to give
It's hard to get
But everybody needs a little forgiveness
We are calling for help tonight on a thin phone line
As usual we're having ourselves one hell of a time
And the planes keep flying over our heads
No matter how loud we shout
And we keep waving our arms in the air but we're all tired out
I heard somebody say today's the day
Big old hurricane she's blowing our way
Knocking over the buildings
Killing all the lights
Open your eyes boy, we made it through the night
Open your eyes boy, we made it though the night
Let's take a walk on the bridge right over this mess
Don't need to tell me a thing baby, we already confessed
And I raise my voice to the air
And we were blessed
It's hard to give
It's hard to get
It's hard to give
But still I think it's the best bet
Hard to give
Never going forget
But everybody needs a little forgiveness
Everybody needs a little forgiveness