Reflections of Color

I remember asking my Mom what her favorite color was when I was little and she would say, "I don't have a favorite color, I like them all."  My brother and I could not accept that answer and we would make her pick one and then we would tell her what our favorite colors were.  I now know exactly what my Mom was talking about now.  I can't pick.  My favorite color depends on my mood, but I love them all.  I have a preference for black, but more so how it's complete absence of color makes everything pop out in brilliant vibrance.

Red makes me think of blood, flowers, sexy lips, and Raphael (the ninja turtle).  Green reminds me of my Mom (her yard - she has the most amazing talent with plants),  tall trees, Green Man, and monster skin.  Yellow makes me laugh with it's bright loving rays.  I think of daffodils and their awkward grace.  Blue, deep and dark before a storm.  Pink and Orange mix in a Nevada sunset that makes me catch my breath.  Purple, deep and rich and royal.  Brown the thick luxury of earth's soil or the smell of a great cup of coffee.  All of them make me smile and I find it impossible to choose just one.

Moments of Clarity

This is a story I wrote based on a dream I had.  It was a strong dream that I felt compelled to share.  Take from it what you will:

I have this room that I go to.  My place across all time and space. It's more of a cave, really.  And beautiful.  It sits just under the surface of the sea and there is a huge crystal window that allows the light to filter through the water in delicate, wavy rays.  It is calm and safe.  Rather than dark and damp, this room is cool and inviting, covered in spongey, soft moss.  This makes the room a soft, loving green.  It has a huge ledge, a window seat of sorts, next to the crystal window where I like to sit and think and watch the creatures of the sea.  Sometimes I am there alone, sometimes not.

On this day, though, I find myself sitting across from Archangel Lucifer. There is no fear, only love.  Angels are described as blindingly beautiful creatures, and Lucifer is no different.  He has wings of a rich, deep purple, dark and lovely and almost black.  But it's his eyes that make me catch my breath.  They are so dark and deep and they speak volumes to me without even a word uttered.  And I know with every fiber of my being that we are friends and have been across the span of ages. I know this, yet I am only consciously aware of my last 20 some years.  I look at him with his grace, beauty, and love and I become sad.

He asks me, "What's troubling you, Brandy?"

I think for a moment and reply, "I've heard things about you, Lucifer. They say you've fallen."

He leans his head back and laughs.  A deep belly laugh that fills the room and I can't help but be put a little more at ease, finding myself grinning through my concern.

He replies, "And what do you feel? Here." He points to my heart.

"That can't be true," I smile.

"Exactly.  Lucifer. It means "Light of God." God's light can't fall."  He grabs my hand and I sigh in relief, knowing it to be true.

"They say your sin is Pride," I whisper.

Again, he smiles and says to me, "That is not my sin, but the sin of man I carry.  Humans are capable of great good and great evil.  But rather than recognize and accept that in themselves, they needed an outside force to blame for the bad."

I am humbled and I reply, "That is a huge burden to carry."

He squeezes my hand and says, "I carry it gladly in hopes that it will help humanity move out of darkness and into a place of only light and love."

Light of God.  I am relieved and I know that he looks after those who are lost and I say so.

"Yes.  If you feel lost, you only need to call on me and I will light your way," he answers.

I feel happy in the knowledge that I have just gained and I lean my head on his shoulder as we sit in the silence that friends that have known each other for ages can comfortably do and soak in the sun as it filters into my cave through the water.

-ly Competitive

I have a huge problem with Bejeweled Blitz on freakin' facebook.  I cannot stop playing it.  I sit down for five seconds at my computer and before I even realize what I'm doing, I am playing that damn game.  I admit I am a procrastinator by nature. This game has weakened my resolve even further.  And I have to have a decent score up on there or I feel like people are judging me so I not only play, but continue playing until I have a score I consider slightly above average to excellent (I only have maybe five friends that play regularly, so I'm not sure where this is coming from).  

This is why I had to give up Tetris.  I couldn't stop. And worse, with Tetris, I couldn't blink.  I would continually play with burning eyes.  If you saw me during this period of my life, I wasn't always stoned, I was in a serious relationship with my playstation.  I finally stopped playing when the damn game kept taunting me with, "single." "Single." "SINGLE."  I get it!!!  I have no life.  I need to stop spending so much damn time playing Tetris!  At least Bejeweled Blitz pumps up my self esteem by constantly encouraging me with such phrases as "Awesome!", "Excellent!", and my personal favorite, "Spectacular!".  I feel that this game really knows me and chooses extremely accurate adjectives when commenting on me and my skills with matching jewels of the same color.

Maybe someone should stage an intervention...

A Perfectly Frozen Moment

I have this shampoo.  It is thick and gooey, like honey (and I'm not talking about honey from a squeezable bear here.  No, this is the kind of honey you buy at a farmer's market off of the side of some out of the way road that you didn't even mean to turn down.  In a mason jar.  Flowing amber heaven, but I digress. Back to the shampoo) and it's dark purple with a perfect lavender swirl.  And it is thick and heavy in your hands. But somehow not sticky and it glides into your hair and coats it in loving, purple-honey, gooey, goodness.  And when you have this amazing thick ultra conditioning shampoo in your hair and the steam from the shower surrounds you in a clean, warm fog and you stop and take a quick drink of your ice cold shower beer that is in complete contrast with everything else around you, you have one of those moments where you think, "Life is pretty sweet."  It's the small things, cupcake. Or so I'm told...

And Extremely Cool, Like New Traditions

They holidays are but days away.  And gone are my days of unpleasant get-togethers that are more work and trouble than their worth.  My family has made new traditions.  One of my BFFs, Clara, always says, "Your friends are your chosen family."  And staying true to those words, I now spend Thanksgiving in Reno with amazing friends.  A Misfit Thanksgiving, if you will (think Island of Misfit Toys but with toys that swear, smoke, and drink a lot). We spend four days laughing our asses off and enjoying the hell out of each other's company.  I look forward to Thanksgiving all year long.  This year is going to be good.  We have David and Kristin, our gracious hosts (and by gracious, I mean told at gun point that they were going to once again be hosting this amazing holiday), my Mum, my bro, my roomie Kim, and sass expert, Emily. Any more awesome packed into one house, and I'm sure the world would implode.  So here's hoping your holidays are going to be as bad ass as mine (don't break your back here.  Truth is you should start small.  Shoot for an iota of how awesome my holiday is and then keep building momentum from there.  Maybe bring your favorite pet this year or cut the sleeves off of that sweater your mom knitted for you to wear to appear at an optimum bad ass level. Things can only get better from there).

Cheers!

And Unwavering, Unlike Me

Forgiveness is one of those things (at least for me) that is great in theory, but very, very difficult in actual application.  I've worked really hard on myself this last year.  And locked away in the confines of my beautiful Burbank apartment, I'm a pretty nice person.  I make myself laugh (not that that was ever a problem) and I imagine dealing with the people that have hurt me the most it a gracious and kind manner.  After all harboring all this anger and resentment only hurts me.  I know that.  But then, recently,  I actually found myself in a room with some of those people and fuck it all if I could be nice.  Or even punch down the anger that bubbled over at the very sight of them.  Ugh!

And I guess in the end, the person that I'm most angry with is myself.  How could I have let these draining people in my life?  Why can't I just let it go already?  Why do I care?  So I'm writing this as a final release.  And I feel pretty good sitting here in front of my computer.  I just hope the next opportunity for practical application goes off smashingly.  Until then, I forgive myself.

And yes, I know this post is emo as hell.  Paul and Will, just let it go.  You too Rake...

Like This Dream

I knew this moment would come someday.  It's the unspoken part of the job description.  That's the problem with being on the inside, you become a liability.  And I didn't just slightly mess up here, I'd fucked up bad.  The worst part was I knew it would be up to him to clean up my mess and take out the trash.  The trash being me.  Knowing it was him, I panicked and ran.  He complicated things.  I couldn't just gracefully look him in the eye and accept my fate.  I was afraid he would actually be able to do it.  Shit, I knew he could that's part of why I fell for him.  If he pulled the trigger, my heart would break.  And that, I couldn't handle.  So I did the cowardly thing and bolted.

I went to the only place I knew.  Home.  I didn't lock the door or turn on any lights.  I just slowly slumped down to the floor next to the refrigerator and waited.  I knew when he entered my house.  He didn't make a sound, he never does.  It was his smell. Man. Spice. Honey.  Instantly my stomach exploded with the fluttering of a thousand butterflies.  My heart raced.  He came directly into the kitchen and sat on a chair.  I couldn't see his face.  "You ran," he said.  His voice thick with hurt. I peeked around the table and the hurt in his glittering black eyes knocked the breath out of me.

The phone rang.  I got up and slowly walked to it, thankful for the interruption.  "Hello," I said as I walked toward him.  "You're home?" the voice asked as I reached out and touched his neck.  I couldn't help it.  I was desperate for the contact.  He didn't turn.  "Hello?" the voice asked.  "Yes," I replied in a whisper. "Stay put.  We're bringing you in." Click.  Silence. I slowly hung up the phone.

"I know what you've got to do," I whispered as I slowly ran my fingers through his hair.  He finally turned and looked at me. He stood up from the chair and pulled me hard against him.  His kiss was rough and demanding.  He steered me toward the patio and ripped off my shirt as he pushed me outside.  "I can't wait.  I need you now."  I knew he could still do it.  Even during the very act of making love and I didn't care.  As he pulled away from me to remove his clothes, the dreary morning crept around me like a cool blanket and I shivered.  My body was cold with craving until he slammed back into me.  I didn't care about anything in that moment.  Not my neighbors, my future, my life.  He was pushing me closer and closer to a heaven I was no longer sure existed.  And then I realized we'd passed the point where he could finish the job. Together, we only had one option: run.