Austin**•.¸♥¸.•**not-Texas, Texas, USA
May 28
♪♫ ♥ Diva ♥ ♪♫♥
Mom, partner, listener, healer of wounds large and small, dog-petter, writer, pie baker, star shooter, wine appreciator, hungry muse, part-time pirate and pole dancer.


OCTOBER 14, 2009 2:09AM

You are gone


I stand in the door way of your room. It smells like teen spirit which really means it smells like teen boy. It’s been almost two years since I laid in your bed, sobbing as I took in the scent left behind on your pillow.  Now, I ache in yourRead full post »

OCTOBER 12, 2009 11:46PM

What's in a name? OPEN CALL

Sometimes I read a posting on OS just because of the poster’s name. Some names suggest aspects of a person such as their profession:  psychomama, lunch lady 2, teendoc.  Others I come to find out that there is an attachment to someone or a beloved pet: cartouche, asperger mom, and scaRead full post »

OCTOBER 12, 2009 12:30PM

Brass Ovaries: Growing a pair


Most of my life has been spent in a quiet truce with the world around me.  Early on, I learned to adapt, to duck and to dodge. I learned the importance of not drawing too much attention to me, sometimes doing this by getting lots of positive attention. I wasRead full post »

OCTOBER 7, 2009 2:09AM

This is not okay (she whimpers).

Today I heard stories about being beaten up and humiliated by others. My sadness at hearing these stories crept into my consciousness and I felt a sort of stillness that I associate with depression.  In the meantime, a text message came in from a friend stating, "It's okay to take care… Read full post »

OCTOBER 2, 2009 6:18PM

"Love after Love"

"Love after Love" 
by Derek Walcott

The time will come

when, with elation,

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror,

and each will smile at the other's welcome,


and say, sit here.  Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.


Read full post »
SEPTEMBER 26, 2009 10:19PM

No one told me about her


“Look!”  He walks into the room carrying a dirty, heavily smudged mirror. 


The piece is large, almost 4 x 6, the edges bevelled in an art deco approximation.  He cheerfully scrubs the mirror and its beauty reappears.  In our small, scarcely furnished apa

Read full post »
SEPTEMBER 17, 2009 11:39PM

Every day

Every day that I see you

I see change


Every night that I see you

I fear change


Your strengths create false promises

While your limitations

Crowd my imagination


Your limitations are too heavy for youRead full post »

SEPTEMBER 11, 2009 7:03PM


It's Friday.  It's been a long week of hyperbole and shouting, of hope and fear, of not knowing what end truly is up.  It's been a week wherein my head whips in surprise at unexpected words and my heart skips at a beat at the sound of my beloved's voice.  I… Read full post »

My hope is more fragile than I wish to admit.


I talk a good talk but when the winds pick up, when there is a crack in the floor, a thud against the wall, I seem to become Chicken Little. I don’t cry, the sky is falling! but I do/Read full post »

SEPTEMBER 6, 2009 2:17AM

An incredibly beautiful song

AUGUST 29, 2009 1:28PM

Why do people close their comments?

I'm relatively new to OS. I have learned that there are some wonderful writers and readers and commentators on this multi-faceted thing we call life.  I've also been surprised by my own realization that one can actually SCREECH on this arena. 

If you are going to post a blog, and want… Read full post »

 The picture called out to me. I am not sure why--it was slightly grainy, black and white, blurry. It was of a man but seemingly not of a single man. In this partial shot the misery and fear of many faces seemed to be present. The one man seemed to beRead full post »

AUGUST 26, 2009 12:04AM

¡Ay caramba! Chiles excite me!


The feel in my hand is highly pleasurable. Sensual. I allow myself to linger over what might be called a chore, but it is not because this action rewards me. It rewards me with the earthy smell, with the fiery feel of oils, with small crunchy bits of seed. 

Read full post »

AUGUST 10, 2009 12:58AM

Please give me 15 minutes alone

Why is it I can never be alone?  No matter what I do, go outside to rake up leaves, make something in the kitchen, curl up in a distant corner with a book, go to the bathroom--no matter what I do, I have a voice or a body or both nestlingRead full post »

Editor’s Pick
JULY 25, 2009 5:47PM

Brain Injury Blues

This is an excerpt from my in-progress work on becoming the parent of a disabled child:  My 15 year old son was hit by a car while he was riding a bicycle. No helmet protected his head and he suffered a traumatic brain injury. He was placed into a medically-induced coma… Read full post »