Welcome to Today.

Today is Thursday. The day before Friday. The day before payday. I have missed the Goodwill Sale at the department store, but I have found the thing I so diligently sought. One of the things. After weeks of searching, I have found it on a Thursday. In Milwaukee, WI. The Thursday before the most important Wednesday I can remember to date. I have polished my fingers and toes in preparation for the event, although the polish will be done over before I go. Every day between now and then will be filled with electric air and anticipation of what your hands feel like when they grasp my waist.

But today is only Thursday. One day closer.

My stomach is aching as I sit here, and ideally I would ask a doctor about these sudden and often severe pains. That will be on the same day I ask about my short breathing and heart palpitations. And why my hip has started popping.

As I sit here, I think sweetly of more pleasant things although First 48 is on the TV.

I daydream, or just let my mind wander (as it is now night time and a night dream is just...a dream), about the things I could be doing and the things I should have done. What may happen in the future and how I or we may grow next year. If I don't continue forward from this jogging in place I've been doing, I will burn substantially less calories and still tire myself out. And I will have accomplished nothing.

But today, right now, I will check my mentions and play on Tumblr and re-polish the ruined nails.

Welcome to my daydream. Welcome to my future. Welcome to today.

My life, the mess.

Last night I mentioned some mess in my life, but I honestly don't want to talk about it anymore.

I'll shorten it I think.


My ex is buggin' out majorly. He had the nerve to tell me that I don't know what love and friendship are because I won't take care of him anymore.

First he was trying to snap on me and cuss and accuse me of...all sorts of shit. Just throwing a tantrum whenever he could.

Then he asked me to still blow him.

Mind you, he has a girlfriend. I told him that was off the table and not under the umbrella of "I'd do what I could for you."

I said "I'll give you a ride. I'll run an errand. I won't take care of your basic every day needs. That is no longer my responsibility."

I'm spoiled, but that sense of entitlement shit is something I won't ever understand. I need to figure out what my father did to keep it from growing in me. Maybe because he had no fear about punishing me when I fucked up. There were plenty of times when I went without as a child. I actually started working when I was twelve or thirteen and had my first legal job at 14.

I have no confusion about how to get what I want, I've just been fortunate enough to have people in my life that sowed into my life and will do for me. I never expect that treatment. As much as I appreciate my father, I know he doesn't have to do what he does for me.

But some people don't get that shit.

While all of this mess is going on, this other gentleman (which he really is) is all over my interwebs and BlackBerry just wooing my heart away.

We've been talking for a long time, and the whole time we have flirted and joked about all sorts of things. But all of a sudden it took a strong turn for the serious.

And it's fun. It feels ok. It feels...good.

And it's making me happy.

AND while I'm dealing with all of that, I start to rebound HARD.

I start checking old traps.

Which was...not my best idea.

Homeboy and I used to have amaaaazing sex. So amazing that he would text and call me several times a year after I told him to go jump in the lake three years ago.

Turns out he's a personal trainer now, which is pretty good for me.

Except that he's sweating me to damn DEATH. Constant texts and calls and "watchu doin" and all that shit. I'm like...I appreciate it, but get a life ASAP.

I thought I was sweating my sugar dumpling too hard but he saaaaid he liked my morning texts.

Plus dude was big before and he got skinny. I really...only liked his size and his oral abilities anyway. Since he's not big, the allure is gone.

Rebound thoughts in action, getting me into trouble.

Plus one of my best friends told me I'm gorgeous the other day, and then I got all flirtatious and told him I think he's cute too. Which I do. I think he's soooo fly.

And I knew this might happen, so I started to tell him "Please spurn my advances for the next three weeks!" but I didn't. Not to mention that he actually started it. I didn't.

Since I didn't start it, I think it might me ok to let it play out and just see. When we saw each other the other night, it wasn't the usual "Oh hai!" gaze, it was the "Oh...hey..." gaze. Then he didn't go for the handshake. He went for the hug. And the hug was extra tight. And I let my hand linger.

My interest is piqued at this point.

And now y'all know about my messy life.

Mess and foolishness.

And fun.

Late night poetry.

I've been so busy the last week or so I damn near forgot I had a blog.

I remembered tonight, though.

So here I am, writing again.

I told someone I would write them a poem a while ago, but the poem wasn't ready to be written then. However, I wrote a few tweets last weekend that were the beginning of this poem.

As I'm writing this post, let me say something...

My rebound vibes must be PUMPING because I was offered a gym membership, some "more private" pix, and asked if I would still suck his dick even though we're broken up and he has a girlfriend.

Clearly THAT is the post I need to be writing.

Anyway, read the text and/or watch the video.

Leave a comment.

Serious business.

I almost can't even write this from my Blackberry.

The emotions are too big for the tiny keys.

My heart is filled to bursting with excitement and joy and love.

It's a dope feeling.

Emotions on eleven
head swimming the back stroke.
Funny timing life has.

The voice on the phone
repeated my sentiments
Made me think so much more of you, love.
Made me think not less of him.
Maybe more frequently.

Yet…all I want is you.
I almost wish I didn't
and I feel crazy sometimes.
but I know I'm not alone in my insanity.
There are others there with me.
And we all roam the halls
from daylight into dusk
Singing to ourselves about distant love.

And yes, I break into poetry. Sometimes I break into song. But at this moment the only thing that made my life communicatable was a poem. Explaining everything that just happened was tooooo much.

Crazy how life overlaps.
I wonder if it isn't repeating itself on purpose.
It has a lot to say
but it can't teach new lessons
until old ones are truly learned.
And here I am, bumping my head and determined
to beat life
to beat experience
to do things my own way and win.
I was always taught
that what I want to do cannot be done
but I don't intend to ever stop trying.

I'd ask you to forgive me if what I'm saying doesn't make sense, but if I may paraphrase Ru, "I'm searching in my purse for a fuck to give."
C. Noelle

Tuesday.

Today is Tuesday.

I don't know if I have much to say.

I am writing because I love my words. I'm tired of letting time eat them. Even if I haven't written a grand piece of work, I have written something and once again kicked sloth in the ass.

The real truth is that my life is bursting with events right now. My heart is brimming with emotions of every sort. I'm sad, elated, anxious, stressed, apathetic, hopeful… And they're on an hourly rotation. Everything has happened. Everything has changed.

Welcome, change. Hello. Have a drink and settle in. I've been waiting for you.

It took some time for me to be ready. When you got here I was still in my robe.

But I'm ready now, and I was worth the wait.
C. Noelle

Why, hello.

I was supposed to have resumed blog posting last Sunday.

I got sleepy and forgot. Clearly I wasn't serious.

For me, that reveals a bigger issue than this blog.

I spend every waking moment considering things I should be writing about and the wonderful ways I could assemble the words to paint the pictures of the scenery of my life and I think about all the time I've wasted not doing that.

I call myself a writer. Not "aspiring", but a writer.

At my core, my essence, that's who I am. I can't escape it. If I could, it would have left me on grounds of spousal neglect by now.

But if I do not write, blogs or stories or essays or poems, I am not a writer, I am a dreamer.

Dreamers who do not act will never get paid.
C. Noelle

The ceiling is leaking.

There are cracks in the ceiling of my house.
I fear the whole thing will come down on me.
Too many years of hiding the little things and now…
the ceiling is leaking, too.

I place pots on the floor.
They catch the water as it comes.
Too many pots on the floor makes an awful racket.
Now there is not a clear path in the house.

I must plot my steps carefully now.
The bare floor is precious.
I cannot afford a spill.
There is no time to clean up the mess.