Paula, Interrupted...

Fascinating Rhythm

2012-01-15T15:33:00.000-05:00

fascinating rhythm
of the fickle missy lady
with all the wiles
and random piles
of an adolescent's room decor
pink and overstuffed
with self important puffery
and enough effulgence
to give indulgence
a Baroquish splendor plume
while she manufactures
attractions yet anew
with words she presses
along with dresses
on her giant loom
what does it spell
who does it mean
and in between you smell
the waft of cloudy notion
and the fog of certain doom
~Gary McGurk

The Church of Your Self is Steam

2012-01-09T19:04:00.000-05:00

"I never loved another person the way I loved myself."
~Mae West

Watching people is one of the few things that can hold my attention for more than 36 seconds. Sometimes I forget that I am not invisible and they can see me too. Eye-contact is not part of my people watching, totally ruins the show.

Having watched my favorite story, "The Peep Show", for years now, I've begun to notice the reruns. It's the same storyline, over-and-over, the human struggle for self-esteem.

What worries people the most is how they are perceived by others, the benchmark for normal. What their friends think. What their co-workers think. What their neighbors think. This is the stuff that fills the bottom of our luggage.

Do you want to be normal or do you want to be happy? Imagine if you really knew your true essence, the steam that runs your soul. You would have so much time on your hands to think of other things. Is that a bad thing?

Organized religion has no bedside manner and is therefore of no help. All this "if you do this, that will happen...it you don't do this..." etc., scaring the crap out of me. That's just so much negativity and it wears a person down.

So, I'm considering starting my own church and it's called "The Church of Your Self is Steam". All of my sermon's will consist of me looking at you and saying "You are good, you are beautiful, and you are worthy of happiness just the way you are". If you attend long enough, you will start to believe me, and then you won't need to attend at all. Religion should be like good therapy.

Try to remember: Your self is steam, with no boundaries. Steam can not be molded, and that's what makes you who you genuinely are. If you allow other's to dictate your worth, your steam will turn to water. Once your essence turns to water, someones gonna freeze you into shaped ice. That'll make you a frozen dog at someone else's salvation, and nobody wants that.

So there you have it.

Girls Without Fathers

2011-11-13T15:47:00.001-05:00

My father was a brilliant man. He loved science, the law, history, chess, and jazz. His untimely death, at the tender age of 36, left my sister's and our mother utterly and totally on our own. My mother, now well in to her seventies, never remarried.

So convinced our family is, that had he lived, he would surely have changed the world. To this day, we still hold his death on par with that of JFK and MLK. To this day, I still believe it. It's how his death touched me personally that I had never really thought about.

The last time I ever saw my father was during my ninth birthday party. He had been suffering from lung cancer for the previous several years, and on this evening, he couldn't breath. The ambulance was called, and off he went, and that was that, and the party went strangely on. It was a slumber party, and Tam Tam was there, and the only other thing I remember from that night is the hairbrush, comb, mirror, and little string of pearls she gave me for my birthday.

The last time my father ever saw me was from a fifth floor hospital window, as my sisters and I stood in the parking lot behind the building. I remember looking up, waving as if I could see him, pretending I could see him, when really I couldn't. Later, I had wondered what the point had been, since I couldn't see my father. Then I realized the point wasn't so we could see him, it was so he could see us, his three little girls, for the last time.

When he died several weeks later, I became a girl without a father. The implications of this didn't really hit me until the last several years, almost 30 years after the event. At some point, I just assumed that everyone lost their father somehow, and that was the way it was.

When I was getting divorced, my sister-in-law, who was also getting divorced at the time, handed me a rather large wad of cash. My utilities had all been turned off when my ex left, since I naively allowed him to put everything in his name. I was being starved out waiting for an agreement that would let me refinance the house, putting groceries and gas on my credit card, along with thousands of dollars in lawyer fees. Still, I have a ton of vanity and pride, and refused the money.

Then she said "Paula, you need to take this money. You don't realize the difference it makes to have your father behind you, and the impact it has on the outcome, because you don't have one. If you did, like I do, he would never allow you to be treated this way. So take this money and don't worry about paying it back."

I've been thinking about it ever since, and that she was totally right. So, maybe it's time to write about girls without fathers, and allow myself to understand what it truly meant to me. So there you have it.

Senate Bill 5 in Ohio, Issue 2 Seals the Deal

2011-11-07T21:02:00.000-05:00

If Senate Bill 5, in Ohio, is not voted down, it becomes the law.

Senate Bill 5, which strips organized labor in Ohio of most of their collective bargaining rights, is up for referendum tomorrow, Tuesday, November 8. It's important that you know what this is really about. Bargaining is not just about wages and benefits.

Nurses and teachers, for example, can negotiate patient and student numbers. Do you want your child in a class with 50 other students and only one teacher? Do you want to be in a hospital ward with 25 beds and only one nurse? Hey, it could happen, Ohio Governor Kasich is all about cost and control.

Senate Bill 5 was originally pushed through and made into law without a vote of the people. A huge part of the middle class in Ohio consists of workers who belong to unions.

Now, here's what I want to say to you about this. If you look back in history, when fascism came-a-knocking, it's always the labor unions the far right goes for first. The reason why?

Labor Unions are the only organized body out side of government big enough to support a dissenting view. If you have no vehicle to disagree with your government, you can not have democracy. Once you silence the labor unions, you silence all the millions of people that have no other connection in life for representation but that union.

So, if you live in Ohio, you really need to read the below article, and make sure you vote in November. You have no idea how much work went into just getting it on the ballot so you could exercise your constitutional rights.

The below article, released last summer, by the Associated Press, clearly explains the intent of Senate Bill 5.

OH Voters Will Decide Fate Of Union Law

July 22, 2011

By Ann Sanner, Associated Press

COLUMBUS, Ohio (AP) — Ohio voters will get to decide in November whether to repeal the state's new collective bargaining law, which would let public worker unions negotiate wages but not health care, sick time or pension benefits.

The state's elections chief said Thursday that opponents had gathered enough valid signatures to put the question before voters. The measure is now suspended from taking effect until voters have their say.

The law signed by GOP Gov. John Kasich in late March affects more than 350,000 public workers, including police officers, firefighters, teachers and state employees. Aside from restricting bargaining, it bans strikes and gets rid of automatic pay increases, replacing them with merit raises or performance pay.

The group We Are Ohio delivered more than 1.3 million signatures to Secretary of State Jon Husted, though the opponents needed roughly 231,000 valid signatures to get the question on the ballot. He said more than 915,000 of the signatures were valid.

The opponents' successful campaign proves that the legislation was "a bad bill that was passed by extreme politicians who are out of touch with hardworking Ohioans," said Melissa Fazekas, a spokeswoman for We Are Ohio.

The measure was approved by the Republican-controlled state Legislature in March amid shouts and jeers from protesters in each chamber. But the overall response by protesters in the Rust Belt state, despite its long union tradition among steel and autoworkers, paled in comparison to Wisconsin, where protests topped more than 70,000 people. Ohio's largest Statehouse demonstrations on the measure drew about 8,500 people.

That difference has been attributed to Madison's labor legacy and the proximity of the populous University of Wisconsin campus to the state capital.

The fallout from each state's bitter fights over collective bargaining restrictions have also differed.

Unlike in Wisconsin, Ohio voters cannot recall state lawmakers, so opponents are pushing for repeal through a referendum.

In Wisconsin, nine state senators — six Republicans and three Democrats — face recall elections. GOP Gov. Scott Walker's collective bargaining law eventually survived a court challenge and took effect.

A Quinnipiac University poll released this week found that 56 percent of Ohio voters say the new collective bargaining law should be repealed, compared with 32 percent who say it should be kept.

The We Are Ohio campaign says 10,000 volunteers and some paid workers circulated petitions to get the referendum before voters. The coalition of labor groups and others contends the law is an unfair attack on workers.

Kasich, a first-term governor, and his GOP colleagues argue the legislation will help city officials, school superintendents and others control their costs at a time when they, too, are feeling budget woes.

Kasich has said he plans to play a visible role in defending the law. So far, he has directed his supporters to a website for Building a Better Ohio, a group that wants to keep the new law in place.

Jason Mauk, a spokesman for Building a Better Ohio, said Thursday that certification of the signatures puts the focus back on the law's merits.

"Ohio voters now have a choice to make," Mauk said in a statement. "We can keep the unfair, unsustainable policies that are bankrupting our communities, or we can change direction and give them the tools they need to create jobs and get spending under control."

The referendum's clearance for the ballot came as the head of the AFL-CIO met in Columbus with community organizations, religious groups and representatives from the Ohio Conference of the NAACP.

AFL-CIO President Richard Trumka would not say how much money the nation's largest labor federation planned to spend in the ballot effort, only that the organization planned to devote resources and people to help repeal the law.

"This is a battle of over the conscious and the moral character and the direction of the country," Trumka told reporters. "And we think that the people in Ohio and the people in America think that people like Gov. Kasich is going in the wrong direction — that he overreached, that he used a tough budget time to try to scapegoat public employees and try to destroy a ladder into the middle class."

Kasich spokesman Rob Nichols said the law was about restoring fairness and balance between the private and public sector employees.

"Mr. Trumpka does have to live in one of Ohio's cities or towns that are hanging on by their fingers, struggling with high costs," Nichols said.

The state's labor groups have turned to their members to help pay for the repeal campaign.

Ohio's largest teachers union in May agreed to a one-time, $54 dues increase. The move by the members of the Ohio Education Association was expected to yield an additional $5.5 million.

The Fraternal Order of Police also anticipated raising $1 million from their roughly 200 local lodges around the state. And the Ohio Association of Professional Firefighters asked its 9,600 members to voluntarily kick in $100 for the repeal effort.

Come As You Are

2011-10-26T21:00:00.000-04:00

For a short time, when I was 3 years old, my family lived in Kansas City. I think it was Missouri, but it may have been Kansas. It's all a vague impression

Anyway, something happened there that continues to haunt me my entire life. Haunt is the perfect word, because this is, if indirectly, a Halloween story. No, this is not a ghost story, it's a genesis of my neurosis story.

To this day, I can't dress up for Halloween.

Like, the anxiety of having to wear a costume is enough to make me turn off all the lights in my house and pretend I'm not home. It's so bad, I've been known to not show up to parties where such things are required.

So, here's what happened in Kansas City, Missouransas. There was a costume party at our synagogue, in addition to the regular Friday night service. It wasn't a Halloween party, it was a Purim party.

Now, with out getting into too much detail, Purim is a Jewish holiday...ugh, hang on, let me google this so I get it right and don't spread ignorance throughout the Internet....

...OK, I'm back, and I quote, copy and paste: "Purim is one of the most joyous and fun holidays on the Jewish calendar. It commemorates a time when the Jewish people living in Persia were saved from extermination."

This makes me giggle because Judaism has so many holidays connected to extermination. It's all hugely depressing. I know, I'm not right, but let's remember, it's not racist till you say it.

To celebrate Purim, you're supposed to go to the party dressed as your favorite character in the bible. My parents, as far as I can remember, dressed my two sisters, and I, all as Queen Esther, who was a major player in the whole saving of the people. I can still see our little shiny satin dresses, each emblazoned on the front with a gigantic sequin Hebrew peace sign.

We were running late, and it was total chaos. We had made crowns out of construction paper, and on the way to the synagogue, somebodies crown blew right out of the car window. My father had to pull over, chase the blowing crown in traffic, to return it safely to its owner, who by now was in a full blown tantrum. My sister, that is, not my father.

After much ado, we finally made it, late as always. Nothing like making an entrance in full Queen Esther regalia times three. What happened next, is seared in my memory.

We were late and all eye's turned to us as we walked in the door. And then, we realized it. It was the wrong night. We were the only people in costumes.

To this day I can remember my horror, and to this day, the same mortification brain chemicals kick in at the mere thought of dressing up. This year, I might wear my pajama's to work, but that's really more of a statement than a costume.

So there you have it.

Bad Poetry

2011-10-21T14:54:00.000-04:00

when it's late at night
I think that I can smell you
sleeping sweetly in the bed beside me

when my mind is free
I think of the times you made me laugh
and stole my breath away

when I pulled myself together,
I thought I'd go unnoticed
until you kicked me in my funny bone

when the sun first came up,
it burnt the tips of my ears
I thought I heard you say my name
as if you longed to be forgiven,

when I dream, I dream of you
I know, even then, that it is just a mirage
smack in the middle of a really big puddle

A House Divided Serves No One

2011-09-25T14:12:00.000-04:00

Due to a "no strike, no lockout" clause in my labor contract, I was forced to cross a picket line to get to work for the first time in my life. I wish I had the personal, vacation, or sick days to use and just avoid the whole thing, but I don't.

So this week, there will be no sideline show, no arm chair quarter backing, no not getting involved. In Ohio, in academia, it's time to face the music and take a stand.

For the last twenty years, I have had the privilege of working up on the hill, where I get to witness the magic of people changing their lives every day. Transformation is our business up on the hill, and the city of Cincinnati is our muse.

Suddenly, all of this has changed. Election time is coming in November, and the rest of Ohio has found our secret wonderland up on the hill. We are not used to outsiders, and their manipulation, and we're caught off guard, like deer in headlights. Who are these strangers in our house?

The repeal of Senate Bill 5 is on the ballot this November. Our family is lead by grown-ups who are appointed by the Governor, who at this time is Kasich. This has never been a problem until Kasich, because he is vehemently anti-labor. On the hill, we are a micro-Cosm of democracy, and therefore have governing bodies, including organized labor.

Now, before we get off on a debate regarding organized labor, let me just say this. Organized labor is the only body out side of government large enough to take an opposing stand. Democracy can not exist with out an opposing stand, good, bad, or indifferent. Period.

I love the great lady on the hill. She watches over a troubled city as if it were her baby. God bless Cincinnati State, and keep her, because without her, Cincinnati is in a lot of trouble. Every person in this city, by virtue of living in Cincinnati, is affected by her success.

This November, drive out the politico's that aim to use our city for their own gain. Vote NO on ISSUE 2 to repeal SENATE BILL 5 in Ohio. Vote no to Governor Kasich.

10-10-10: Binary Code and a Nice Day As Well

2011-09-20T18:06:00.000-04:00

I was going through my drafts, which is collection of crap I write and never get around to publishing, and came upon this little ditty. Mostly, I wrote it in honor of the date, which makes it ironic to forget to publish it for a year.
October 10, 2010

Today, 10-10-10, which equals 42 in binary code, was what I consider to be a really great day.

First, I finally gave away my wedding dress. My friend Karla is an amazing seamstress and she loves used wedding gowns. She's waited almost six years for me to break my stone-cold, emotional grip on it.

What made me finally give it up was that another friend had a yard sale today. She was reluctant to let go of a few items, and I said "Look at it this way, you have to clear it out to get more". It inspired me to take my own advice and pass the wedding dress on to someone who would give it a new life.

Later this afternoon, RWC and I went to the local antique mall. While we were there, an old woman came up to us and asked if we had found her shopping bag. Inside the shopping bag was her purse, which she thought she had left sitting on a bench. I looked at RWC and asked "Do you mind if we look? This is just the kind of thing that charges my engine." RWC, who is always game for a psychic adventure, pointed the way towards the end of the aisle.

By now, the entire store was searching for the missing shopping bag. RWC and I get to the end of our aisle, and RWC starts to go right, and I say we should go left because it's somewhere at the end of these aisles. We go about 4 feet and RWC points to a stall on the left and says "There it is!" It was just so wonderful to hand it back to the woman, who was probably in her late seventies.

Then, this evening I talked to my friend Kevin, who is the only person I know that owns the same 20 year old car as I do. I've been having trouble with my tires, including a bent rim that needed to be replaced, and was looking at a good chunk of change that I didn't have. When I had left work on Friday, my back tire, not even the one with the bent rim, was totally flat.

RWC fixed it for me, but suddenly, I knew I had to get the tires fixed. With my budget, this has been sta-resssssing the hell out of me. Turns out, Kevin has two extra tires, with rims, that he'll give me for free. Hey, that totally fits my budget.

In the end, it all came out even. And so goes the universe...so there you have it.

September 11th in America, Circa 1984

2011-09-11T14:46:00.000-04:00

"He who gives up freedom for safety deserves neither".

Much has changed in the last ten years, and it certainly isn't 2001 anymore. Have you noticed the changes? No, silly, not just in the airport screening lines. I'm talking bigger, even more insidious changes.

You let that fear all up in your head and now it's living there rent free. Never let anyone or anything live in your head rent free.

Let's talk about your civil rights. These are the laws that this country based itself on. You know, the home of the free and what not.

First, you have to understand the Patriot Act. The Patriot Act was an act of Congress signed into law by George Bush after the September 11th attacks on the World Trade Center in 2001. It was recently extended by President Obama for another four years.

The act totally and dramatically reduced restrictions on law enforcement agencies' ability to search telephone, e-mail communications, medical, financial, and other records. Yes, that's right, it's all about our privacy. Apparently, we are our own worst enemies.

The Patriot Act also expanded the Secretary of the Treasury’s authority to regulate financial transactions. The experts say this is mostly those threats involving foreign individuals and entities. Puh-lease. I think it's probably more for economic control in general.

The act also expanded the definition of terrorism to include domestic terrorism, thus enlarging the number of activities to which the USA PATRIOT Act’s expanded law enforcement powers can be applied.

It also broadened the discretion of law enforcement and immigration authorities in detaining and deporting immigrants suspected of terrorism-related acts. That cracks me up, I thought we were trying to keep "them" all out, not detain them. Are you still following this?

Seriously, look at the components. You're giving up access to your medical records just so you can feel safe. Hello? You're allowing people to listen to your private conversations because the enemy may be amongst us. Trust me on this, anytime you react out of fear, no good follows.

You know, now that I'm thinking about it, the Patriot Act is very much like the Marriage Agreement. Did I mention I once got married on September 11th?

Anybitter-is-me, the Patriot Act is bad for all of us. No matter how terrified you are of the unknown entity, taking back your civil rights will be a million times worse. Why? Because that is the stuff that revolutions are made of, and that's how we got here in the first place. Do we really need to do that again? Revolutions are a lot of work and that shit is the scariest.

New York City remains the greatest city on the face of the earth. You can bomb our buildings, but you can't bomb our spirit. Unless it's our own governing body, then all bets are off. So there you have it.

rk.

Voyage of the Damned

2011-09-10T12:36:00.003-04:00

Somewhere along the digital way, I stumbled on this picture of the members of the U.S. Figure Skating Team. For some reason, it stopped me in my tracks, and it has haunted me ever since, mostly because, just like them, I didn't see what was coming next.

The date was February 14, 1961. They were on their way to the World Figure Skating Championships in Prague. Look at their faces, every one of them full of hope.

Everyone is wearing their best clothes, except for the guy on the bottom step. He's standing front and center, collar proudly open. He is a maverick, both in sport and spirit. With that kind of confidence, he's at least three decades ahead of his time.

Look closer. Notice the tall beauty holding the sign, and the man standing next to her. He must be the coach, his face full of concern and angst. The fairy dust long wore off that one.

Further up the steps, we have the group comic who keeps the mood light. That's him hiding behind the black rimmed glasses, with his hand extended in a Shakespearian gesture. He is the original Drew Carey. That hand seems as displaced as he secretly feels.

Over on the right, at the bottom of the steps, are what I originally thought of as the "love birds", but lately wonder if they weren't brother and sister. She leans into him to remind herself that she is not alone. He smiles, wondering if she can feel him shaking with fear and uncertainty.

Then there's the boy who tried to hide. See there, on the left, between the beauty queen holding the sign and the girl on her right? Just a half of a face, peaking over, as if he were an uninvited guest. His lost expression leads me directly to the girl with the corsage and curly hair standing directly above him. Their aura's seem connected and I wonder if they sat together during the flight.

So much emotion. So very haunting. Did they know what destiny beckoned?

The picture was taken at Idlewild International Airport in New York, before boarding a Sabena jet to Brussels. The plane crashed on February 15, near the airport at Brussels, killing all onboard. So there you have it.

A Ride on the Metro with My Green Eyed Poet

2011-09-04T17:04:00.000-04:00

Bus Route 29
by O'Connor Quaino

I
Yackers at the back - of the bus
A.M. people on the bean of choice
Cutting is the voice most imposed
A colloquy, soliloquy, the hush
To rush and close
As each rank and file is deposed.
A clique a klatch of speech
This is a movable feast
And Who rides past their stop
To remain the weasel and not the pop?

II
Nook lookers quiet
As a mouse,
Their hobbies are secreted and mundane
Not so pedestrian their choise
To eschew the noise
Their overriding poise ever maintained.

III
Some are cheerful; some are glum
But no dead-beats on this run
Coifs are set
and hair is wet
Boots and laces
Done up for the day
Social graces
All but zipped away.

IV
In his turn, the driver—
Never more than stern--
Takes a jam or hops a curb in stride--
Our roles are set as distance met
And, oh, no transfers honored on this ride.

Why does Martin Luther King Jr. look Asian?

2011-08-28T16:30:00.001-04:00

This is a picture of the new Martin Luther King Jr. monument located in the National Mall in Washington DC.

Now, let's take a closer look, because something looks amiss. What's up with the industrial, dare I say it, cultural revolution flavor here?

Why does Martin Luther King Jr. look Asian? Frankly, he looks a lot like Mao. Something is just not right here. Who designed this crazy national monument?

This guy did. His name is Lei Yixin and he lives in China. Along with his design, came a 25 million dollar donation from the Chinese government.

CHANGSHA, China -- Inside a cavernous studio in this steamy inland city, Lei Yixin is molding clay into the shape of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. Lei scrutinizes every inch of the models ... For China's artists, the selection of Lei as the lead sculptor for the project, to be unveiled in 2009 on the Mall, is a triumphant moment.

That's right, kids, we literally outsourced the creation of a national monument to China. Now we have a monument that looks like Mao in our capital. That's just fucked up.

If I were Chinese, I'd be laughing my ass off. So there you have it.

Forty Years Ago Today and Still His Words Ring True

2011-08-28T16:09:00.005-04:00

Forty years ago today on the National Mall. Arguably, the greatest speech ever given by one of the greatest leaders of our time. Martin Luther King Jr. is OUR Ghandi. I am proud of all he stood for, and died for, and am honored to carry his legacy forward. A truly great American. Listen up children. Viva la relevance!

What Every Woman Wants to Hear

2011-07-31T18:07:00.000-04:00

Never let the book cover fool you. While the spine on this one is well read, the pages are full of romance and scandal. He knows what a woman wants to hear. And I like that, a lot.

"Who is this Leonard Cohen?" you may ask. Well, I've got that covered as well. Really great stuff.

The Timely's and the Godsend's

2011-07-31T14:49:00.004-04:00

The year before J1 was born, we bought the house we still live in today. I remember my sister telling my mother "Aw, he bought her a dollhouse.", and that's exactly what it is. She, referring to my dollhouse, sits proudly in an old neighborhood, that's nice and flat, and is covered in a canopy of Oak and Walnut tree's that are older than she is.

When J1 was 18 months old, he met his lifelong friend Z. They met at what I like to call "Baby Harvard" which is the best child care center in the city. The center is housed up on the hill, where both Z's mother and I work. Soon after we met, they moved their family to my neighborhood, and our kids have gone to all the same schools. They are the Timely family.

A year or so later, the Godsend's moved into the old yellow and white Victorian across the street. The house had been broken into two units for decades, and the Godsend's, with all their children, grandchildren, and extended family, restored it to it's original glory of a single family home.

Together, our village has weathered many storms, both figuratively and literally, and we've all been there for each other. Recently, the Godsend's announced that they would soon depart our sweet village, and while I know that change is the only constant, it's a day I've always dreaded.

Once, when we were teenagers, my sister told me she dreamt that I had gone down the drain in the kitchen sink as a big blob of slime. No surprise there, but then she said I suddenly flew back out as a butterfly. I've never forgotten that dream.

I think I'm ready to talk about the long storm I've weathered, because I believe I'm coming out the other side. But this I know for sure, I would have never survived without the support of my village. And for me to tell these stories, you've got to know who the Timely's and Godsend's are, because none of it could have happened without them.

Carlos Garcia aka New York Boy

2011-07-26T21:14:00.000-04:00

When I was in my early twenties, my sister was working on her doctorate at NYU. She lived in Greenwich Village right near Washington Square Park, at the corner of Bleeker and McDougal Streets.

She lived in NYC for about a decade, and while most of her apartments were the size of a cracker box, it was the best vacation destination ever. Location, location, location.

On this particular visit, I was with my friend Laura. We had a friend that lived in Brooklyn, so we were shuttling back and forth between his place and my sisters. One evening, we met my sister at St. Mark's.

St. Mark's is a street in the middle of the Village. It's kinda touristy yet funky good. The streets are lined with tons of little shops, restaurants, and street vendors. Laura, Beth and I were there strolling along and we saw this REALLY hot guy reading tarot cards for a couple of bucks. What does a gurl do when there's a hot guy giving card readings? Why, hell yes, she gets her cards read!

Let me try to do Carlos justice in my description. His skin was the color of caramel, he's wasn't thin and he wasn't fat, just beefy. He had the kind of soulful eyes that made you want to save him and be saved by him, all at the same time. He smelt the way the air smells right after it rains, with a hint of testosterone. And then he called me "mamacieta"

The only thing I remember about the reading was my sister standing behind me whispering "go back to school, go back to school" like she was the cards talking.

Laura and I agreed to meet him at a club later that night. We ended up spending the next 10 hours with him and his friend, just clubbing, and chatting and running around Manhattan. It was one of the funnest nights of my life. Carlos had lived in NYC all his life so he knew the insiders tour.

Finally, at like 7 a.m., they rode the subway with us back to Brooklyn. After exchanging phone numbers and addresses, Carlos and I had a very long goodbye. There was love in the air!

Unfortunately, Laura and I had to get on a plane home a mere three hours later. Ain't that how it always goes? Don't worry, it wasn't the last time I saw Carlos.

Carlos is a writer. He uses the alias Micheal Dantilleon, because, he said, "Carlos Garcia is Spanish for Joe Smith", but I'll tell you all about that later. I have the most incredible collection of love letters he wrote to me over the years. Perhaps, at some point, I will open the memory vault and share some with you.

Amy Winehouse and the Twenty Seven Club

2011-07-24T12:56:00.000-04:00

When I mentioned to RWC that Amy Winehouse had died, at the tender age of 27, the first thing he said was "Oh, she's joined the 27 Club."

"The 27 Club?" I ask

"Yes." RWC says, "It's a group of famous musicians who died under suspicious circumstances. The phrase "27 Club" was coined in reference to Jimi Hendrix, Brian Jones, Janis Joplin, Kurt Cobain, and Jim Morrison, all dead at 27. "

"An auspicious membership indeed." I reply

"Well", apparently 27 is some kind of cut off for musicians. If you make it to 28, you're good to go. Take Keith Richards for instance." he laughs.

Below is a video of Amy singing my favorite song "Tears Dry on Their Own" live. The video was made in 2007, and the life is still in her eye's. It's the way I want to remember her. Full of piss and vigor. RIP sweet Amy Winehouse.

Intuition, Sympathy Addiction, and Defining Moments

2011-07-17T23:22:00.004-04:00

The other day, Dahmi and I got to talking about her summer vacation. The conversation took some interesting turns.

"I called my sister in law on the phone," Dahmi tells me, "two days before I went to South Carolina to visit her and my brother and told her that I was worried about the kids and the pool. I wanted assurance that they couldn't get outside in the early morning hours or at night and drown. I was obsessed with something happening to one of the kids. When I got down there, I got up three or four time a night to make sure they were okay."

"Billy and Autumn were also going to visit my brother and family, so...I was obsessed with something happening to one of them.The very day that I got there, Billy fell out of the tree house while I was washing dishes, looking out at the pool from the kitchen window.

Leah was no where around, per usual. Bryan, Jim's son, scooped Billy up from the ground and I ran over to him. Bryan put Billy in my arms. When I had him in my arms, he went limp, turned gray and his eyes rolled back.

I thought I was losing another grandson.

I yelled for them to call 911 and put Billy on the porch in a flat position, keeping his head and back from moving. He was crying that his back hurt. Thank god he was with me at that time. Leah comes walking out and in an irritated voice says…"what the hell is going on?". The ambulance arrives, they strap him to a board with collar on and take him to emergency to get xrays and scans.

Thank God he's fine. But the whole thing triggered something in me that's been hiding since we lost our Little Man.

After they left I completely fell apart. I have never fallen apart like that in my life. I couldn't even hold myself up."

I ask Dahmi, "What was it like? I mean, completely falling apart. Was it cathartic at all?"

"Not a comfortable thing I can tell you that.", Dahmi answers, "No. It made me feel like a freak, but like a human freak for once. know what I mean?"

"I always have to be the strong one, and true to form, Jim," who is Dahmi's life partner, " did not let me fall apart. What I mean is...my legs weren't supporting my weight anymore, I was shaking and some weird noise was coming out of my mouth and I felt like I was going to pass out, and then Jim says "Get it together..Autumn needs you", and I pulled it together."

"You know, Leah has treated me like shit ever since. She seemed more into getting sympathy from the whole thing." she finishes.

"Yeah, that shit can get addictive." I tell Dahmi.

"Sympathy?" Dahmi asks.

"Hell yeah, I realized it when I had cancer." I say

"Really?" Dahmi asks me incredulously, almost shocked.

"Absolutely."

"That's interesting." Dahmi says reflecting on what I just told her.

"Yup." I tell her. "I always felt invisible, and when I was sick, everybody was sooooo nice to me. On the other hand, it was miserable and totally not worth it but I still thought about it."

Dahmi looks at me and says "Yeah, it's nice for people to care, but then you have this label. Like, I'm the grandma who lost her grandson. You're the lady who had cancer."

"Yes, I know"

"I think I would rather be invisible." Dahmi says

"And," I add, "if you knew me earlier, I was also the little girl with the dead father and crazy mother."

"Sure...and I was the girl who got pregnant at 17."

"Exactly!", I proclaim, "Everybody has defining moments."

"I'd say...some not so great."

"Well, what would be the fun in that?" I ask Dahmi, "We'd all be stagnant."

"Oh yeah!" Dahmi remembers, "My point to the story was that I knew something was wrong but I was so off base. I focused on that pool."

"Well, you were still right there with your radar on. It made a huge difference." I tell her

"Well, I didn't stop it from happening. And guess what? One of the puppies drowned in the pool in the early morning hours. It was the puppy that my mom wanted me to bring home." Dahmi replies

"WOW, that's crazy!", I say "It distracted you, the puppy threw off your magnificent radar."

"I guess so...probably because the puppy was wrapped up in my Mom's emotions. I brought a different puppy home for her. I didn't tell her that hers drowned." she says, "I just couldn't. Needless to say, it was a pretty stressful vacation."

A message from the Universe sent to me via my email.

2011-07-16T02:09:00.001-04:00

Do you know what happens, Paula, when a dream comes true and you feel your joy bubbling over into wide grins, happy dances, and shrieks of "Holy @#$%!!" and the like?

Your energy actually spills over into the oceans of time and reaches into the past where it laps upon the shores of a former here and now, infusing a former unsuspecting self (who is still merrily living their life due to time's "simultaneousity") with a flash of inspiration or a burst of intuition; a hope for what the future might hold.

Whew... and that, my friend, is the truth about where dreams come from.

The Universe

Dahmi and the Magic of Autumn

2011-07-10T20:35:00.028-04:00

Dahmi is a very old soul. We met over 25 years ago, both of us the first of the female technicians in a predominantly male industry. We bonded instantly.

Dahmi is much younger than I am by a good 10 years. She was living the life I should have been, being a mother, holding a steady job, being at home at night. Meanwhile, in my twenties, I was foot loose and fancy free, no intention to marry, no intention to have children.

The first day we met, Dahmi and I started a conversation that has continued through the years. Mostly, we try to figure out how best to make sense of some of the unusual abilities we both seem to have.

Dahmi is now in her late thirties, her daughter Leah, now in her early twenties. Leah has three children, Autumn, Billy, and baby Little Man, and they are Dahmi's grandchildren.

Several months ago, a terrible, terrible, thing happened to the whole family. Little Man, who was several months old, and in perfect health, went to sleep on night and just forgot to wake up. Everyone was so devastated, and will always be. With my never ending obsession with death, Dahmi and I have been chatting about it lately.

"A few weeks ago" Dahmi is telling me, "Autumn pulled my blue leather Bible off the bookshelf and asked to borrow it. Apparently she has been going to bed with it each night."

Autumn will be 5 years old in July.

"She has told me a few different things about the reason she has this bible. Last night she was reading it in her bed. When I went to tuck in Billy and Autumn in, I bent down to kiss Billy a kiss on the lower bunk.

Then Autumn says, from her upper bunk "Don't forget about me."

"Of course not kid." I say.

So, I walk up to her and I say, "Are you reading the Bible?"

Autumn says, "I will give it back to you when I finish each page. Tonight I only read one page."

While she is talking, she is smoothing the pages in the Bible. She is flipping through the pages showing me each page that she has already read. I ask her why she is reading the Bible

She tells me, "Dahmi, I am trying to find out what happened to our Little Man."

So I ask her, "Do you think you will find that in there?"

And Autumn replies, "Yes, I do. I already did once, and she flips to a page and says..I think it was about here."

So I ask her, "Do you know what that book is?"

Autumn says, "Yes I do."

And I reply with, "You know it's the word of the lord?", and she says, "Yes, I know"

Then Autumn says, "Dahmi...I really hope that my great grandma is taking good care of our Little Man."

So the conversation went on a bit but that was the gist of it. "

Dahmi continues, "This was the second time that she told me that she was trying to find out what happened to our Little Man. At first I thought she meant..how did he die but that is not what she means. She is trying to find out where he is and where did he go."

"So what did have you told her?" I ask.

"Well, Paula, actually I haven't . I just realized today that she is trying to figure that out." Dahmi answers.

"Tell her about how water turns to mist, it's still there, Little Man is still here, he's just around us." I say, having thought about this very conversation with my own children so many times.

"She sees spirits Paula..or at least she used to...." Dahmi says.

"I would beleive that of any grandchild of yours." I say in all seriousness, because Dahmi has always been off the grid psychic.

"Autumn used to tell me about a guy who would stand in her room. She said he was dead and he wore a chef's hat. She didn't like him much, and I told her to tell him to go away."

"The interesting thing is that a mentally challenged guy used to live downstairs." Dahmi goes on, "he was murdered in Rapid Run park. I tried to find out information on him but it's sketchy. He lived with his sister, and would walk around the neighborhood with a transistor radio to his ear."

"Rapid run is full of ghosts, all the old Jewish cemeteries are there." I add.

"I know, all along the hillside." Dahmi says.

"I actually know quite a few of them." I laugh.

"Okay..so what do you make of Autumn and her bible? Kinda odd, isn't it? Almost creepy, but I think it is more helpful than harmful. i think it may be giving her some sort of comfort."

"I think it's beautiful" I say, thinking of how far beyond her years Autumn is.

"It seems to suggest an awareness or maturity way beyond her years." Dahmi says so earnestly, at the very same moment I'm thinking it.

It makes me laugh, and I say, "I don't know, Dahmi, do ya think?"

Then we're both laughing and saying goodbye, always knowing we'll be chatting again soon.

Let Me Take You on a Sentimental Journey

2011-07-03T23:26:00.002-04:00

Someday, I will live in a stone house whose interior will have lots of nooks and alcoves. The house will have a library, a breakfast nook, a studio, an office, and two bedrooms.

There will be a large veranda where we will have coffee in the morning. The kitchen will have a fireplace with a large brick hearth, where we can sit and warm ourselves on cold winter evenings.

In the library we will collect books. All kinds of books. I will have an entire section dedicated to nothing but pop-up books. We will have beautiful wooden shelves to hold our books. There will be a great window with a built in seat facing west, so that we can sit and read and catch the last rays of the day.

The library will smell like we do, wood and lavender, mixed together just like us. The kind of smell that drifts unexpectedly by you years later and transports you back in time.

Our studio will face east, to get the best of the morning light. It will be divided into two sides; one side for things we don't want paint getting on, the other side for everything else. One wall of the studio will be a large bay window, where we can set up our easels, and never have to put them away.

Occasionally, when I must, I will sit in my office, with windows on both sides of desk, and make the money I need by working from anywhere. I will become a very famous writer and a very successful media consultant.

When you have to travel, I will always get to go along. I will be able to work from anywhere in the world. We will go visit a lot of amazing places together and get to write it all off as a business expense on our taxes.

The only company we enjoy more than our own is each others. I will remember our secret conversations, the ones in our heads, that nobody else can hear. Revelations and hypothesis flying through our temples like electric sparks as we rub our heads together, conjuring the truth.

To dream it means to see it. To see it means to believe it. To believe it means to achieve it.

The Snake, the Wren Family, and Liberty Gold

2011-06-27T11:00:00.001-04:00

Have I ever told you about my friend Liberty Gold? We met in high school, a million years ago, and I was in awe of her from the first moment.

Liberty, even at 15ish, had serious magic, and even back then, I knew it. She could create a piece of art from nothing, draw a portrait of you better than a Polaroid, and nurse a piece of nature back to life from the brink of death. All at the same time. She still can.

A couple of weeks ago, we had a string of terrible storms.

Liberty Gold lives in the branch of Eden located down on River Road. Her neighbors, the Wren family, had been hit hard by the storms, as did many of the inhabitants of River Road Eden.

Discussing the storms, Liberty casually mentions the Wren family. "The parents rounded up 3 survivors and led them off into the woods. I hope they find a nice place to stay till they can fly."

"How many baby Wrens where there before the storm?" I ask. "That's an epic tale of survival and love."

"I'm not sure, I thought 4 but it could have been 5. That snake had a mighty big bulge." Liberty answers.

"OH MY GOD!" I shriek like only an urban princess can, "There was a snake? Fine, now I have to hear the whole story."

"OK, here it is.", Liberty begins, "There was a terrible screeching of Wrens outside the door last evening, after the storms and the hail and the flooding. The parent Wrens were yelling and fluttering about in a mad frenzy. I know not if the babies were screaming as well, it was difficult to hear anything above the din."

"I ran out to see what was the matter and to my amazement, there... wound up around the nest, engulfing it completely, even as to enclose the only opening that would allow escape of the poor doomed chicks within... was a rather large rat snake, it's body writhing as it constricted the once safe and loved home of my little house Wren family."

"Without thinking of my own safety", Liberty grins at me, "I snatched up the snake in one hand as I tried to catch the fleeing babies as they tumbled from the nest in horror. The snake, (dastardly fiend), had a rather largish bulge in it's midsection... too late for that one i thought, as i carried the wicked marauder of to an undisclosed location."

I picture Liberty holding Wren babies in one hand while swinging the snake over her head with the other.

"Once back at the nest," she continues "the young birds were scattered about the porch with the parents diving and calling in obvious and sheer panic. Returning the babies to the nest was an exercise in futility to say the least. Looking closer, one of their siblings was still in the nest... it's lifeless body a horrible reminder of what they were trying to escape."

Liberty gives me a heavy sigh, "Gawd this is taking forever. So, the babies fled in all directions, into the late evening twilight... with more storms rumbling off in the distance."

"Anyway... there were 3 in a nice little pile on the steps this morning and mom and dad in attendance." and that is the end of her story.

I'm in awe and can only muster a "WOW", speechlessness being foreign to me. "That was an epic tale of courage."

That Liberty Gold is my girl. I love her.

Everybody feels like crap sometimes.

2011-06-25T15:14:00.008-04:00

Saturday is finally here, and I feel like crap. This bothers me.

Last night, I went to bed early. Why don't I feel like a spring chicken?

The day started merrily enough. The two J's, RWC, and I went to the Hofbrau House in Newport for Tam Tam's surprise birthday party. We had to be there by 11 am and it was a sunny, cool morning that had no business being in late June.

My dogs have been acting strange lately, not feeling well I guess. I left them in the yard while we were gone. This yard is guarded by iron gates, extra fencing, and an invisible fence. This is canine Alcatraz, and no dog should be able to escape. You have no idea the hundred's and hundred's of dollars I've spent reinforcing it's perimeters.

Having the audacity to leave those dogs out when I wasn't home is not something I felt good about. But I did it anyway, silly fool.

As we pull into the parking lot for Tam Tam's surprise party, my cell phone rings. It's my bestie Karla, who lives across the street, calling to let me know that Katie Houdini is out running the streets.

So we sit in the parking lot for five minutes, trying to find out which of the J's took the spare key from Karla's house and exactly which one never returned it, because now Karla can't let Katie Houdini back in the house.

And then, here comes Tam Tam with her daughter, son, and grand baby, getting ready to walk right by the car. We all hunch down.

We may have missed the surprise, but we didn't ruin it. The party was beautiful, the food was great, the company beyond compare. It was reunion like, all my nearest and dearest from the old neighborhood.

It's only 3 pm now, and I feel like crap. It makes me look for things that will make me feel better. Little things, like drinking cokes and smoking cigarettes because I just feel so exhausted and it embarrasses me. I am just so very deep down in my soul tired.

It would be easy to call it depression, but I think it's wear-and-tear. There is no cheating death, only avoiding it and buying time. I am indeed elusive, and very good at it. But let's not forget, it's buying time that I'm doing, and a price is indeed paid, in the form of the energy that runs my body.

It's as if shards and pieces of my energy goes back into the universe, gone to me forever, in payment for every moment of extra time here. So I am one tired bitch and it has nothing to do with emotion. It's all about energy.

What the hell, I'll take it, it's well worth it because today, I got to eat birthday cake with my Tam Tam.

Good thing there's not a sleep tax. So there you have it.

...And That's All I Have to Say About That.

2011-05-01T12:48:00.002-04:00

A Hot Saturday Night in Nash-Vegas with Dolly

2011-04-15T23:29:00.004-04:00

My good friend Dolly has a daughter named Lola, who once married a boy named Lyle.

For whatever reason, at the time of the wedding, Dolly and Lola were not speaking. Therefore, Dolly and Donnie were not there and didn't really know Lyle.

When they finally made up, which they always do, it was decided that a road trip was in order. It was high time that Dolly and Donnie got to know their new son-in-law, Lyle, and visa-verse.

With that, they packed up the car, and headed south to Nashville, Tennessee, where all involved had friends. After checking into their hotel, Dolly and Donnie went to visit some friends, while Lola and Lyle went to meet some of their own friends. The plan was to meet up later that night.

"Hey Paula!" Dolly says to me a few days ago, "Did I ever tell you about the first time we met Lyle? It was a hot Saturday night in Nash-Vegas."

"What is Nash-Vegas? Is that like Brown County, Indiana?" I ask.

"Nooooo, it's in Nashville. You've never heard of Nash-Vegas? Well, go google it."

"Anyway," Dolly continues, "when we got there, me and Donnie went to meet up with our friend Michael who lives in Nashville. We went to a couple of clubs, drank a lot of vodka, and before we knew it, it was 2 a.m. and we were hungry.

Michael says he MUST take us to this odd restaurant that is in a bad part of town and never to be found on any tourist map. So we call Lola and Lyle and tell them to meet us there. The place was sorta like Waffle House, only without a bathroom.

So we all meet up and sit down at a table where we wait, and wait for service. We waited forever! It takes so long, that Lyle starts rolling a joint on the table."

"On the table?" I ask "Or under the table?"

"Totally on the table. It's like 3 am and the whole place is in it's own world. We were all drunk and nobody cared.

Oddly, though, you did have to go outside to smoke. So, on one of our fifteen smoke breaks outside, Lyle and I find ourselves alone, except for this homeless guy drinking out of a brown paper bag.

Remember I mentioned that the place didn't have a bathroom? Well, I wasn't kidding, it really didn't have a bathroom. And I really needed to pee. So I go over by this wall and drop my pants and squat and start peeing.

Well, then the homeless guy decides he has to pee as well, stands right next to me, takes out his dick, and starts peeing too.

Suddenly, I hear Lyle yell "STOP LOOKING AT MY MOTHER-IN-LAW!!!!", because the homeless man is looking down at me squatting, watching me pee.

When we get back to the table, I'm laughing and telling Donnie, Michael, and Lola what just happened. They start laughing as well, but Lyle looks mortified.

When we ask him if he's OK, he says "Tonight, I did two things that I never want to do again."

"What's that?" Lola asks him.

"First," Lyle says, "I watched my new mother-in-law pee against a wall outside in an alley, behind a restaurant with no bathroom."

"Secondly," he continue's, "I screamed at a homeless guy peeing next to my new mother-in-law for staring at her while he peed against the same wall."

"Dolly", I ask, "do you think this could have had anything to do with the divorce?"

"Oh no, not at all" Dolly says "I don't know what Lola's problem was with him, but we really liked him. He was a nice kid."