For my Friends When I'm Away (May 2000)

Regarding the above map in reference to my summer romance with Eli - I spent the first month as a counselor to spoiled slutty hellions. It was like living in a cabin full of myself at that age and it was TOUGH. ( Try sitting in on a meeting about how you let your 12 (but I'm almost 13!) year old camper out of your sight long enough for her to get caught blowing a counselor in training.) Um lets see, I was never there after they fell asleep and the brats weren't morons! Sneaking out to Eli's was easy - he lived in Boy teen village and I lived right across that small path in girls teen. When I went (read: it was mutual) to horseback second session, I lived over near the girls camp, in a staff cabin, past that tennis racket icon... That was what we call the walk of shame, getting caught walking around Lake Wendy in the morning... Luckily horseback staff started way before everyone else, so I usually just brought my work clothes and walked straight to the dining hall from his (literally) tent. At least it had a platform, which was quite useful for late night calls of the wild...
I thought it appropriate to start with some of the poems I copied into this journal from the kind of decrepit notebook only a writer could visualize... This is a fun poem I wrote when I was getting ready to leave for the hills of Georgia...

For My Friends While I'm Away (c)

Do some drugs
and think of me
bitching to bugs
in 110 degree
Georgia sun.
your laugh an echo in my head
I hope my girls don't wet the bed
and that there will be pot to smoke
that kosher food won't make me choke
So shake your head and roll your eyes
but if Orit can do it, so can I
So write me lots and party hard
We'll see if I'm the camp retard
That comes home from a hike to say;
" I lost only one camper, it's been a good day."
In ten short weeks I will return
Of course there'll be a joint to burn
Of course there'll be new boys to meet
preferably ones who eat cheese on meat.

Who was Bohopoet girl 8 years ago??

BohoPoetBookworm

A childhood dream of mine was to have my very own study, one with floor to ceiling bookcases lining one wall. Now I do, complete with navy blue drapes, it's very own bathroom with light blue original tile, and a navy blue futon (if you hadn't noticed, blue is my very favorite color.) Among the books are the references any indigo must have; The only Astrology Book You Will Ever Need, Love Cards, Destiny Cards, Sextrology, and a Tarot Pack..... Also is the countless journals I have kept from the days before blogging and laptops... I just opened one up that Eli (more about him HERE sent me as a birthday present after the summer I spent in Georgia, and I just opened it.

I'm going through it now, and plan on posting some of my writing from that time, a time where my identity was a more than just part of a whole....A time when although I maybe have worshipped Bacchus and Venus more than I ought, I was who I was and you either loved me or hated me....And I truly believed it was your loss should you choose the later...

That's what's so weird about life. We spend so much of our carefree period bitching about our lack of freedom, about how great it will be to have a house and be able to come home or do whatever you wanted with little to no consequences....Now we look back and remember how life seemed spread out in front of us like a buffet of pick your dream or posion....I know it's not too late...All this writing, all these old journals, are letters to myself, written long ago

All By Myself, Part Two

Which brings us to Jesse. Jesse was the first guy I could ever talk to about poetry. He was an incredibly gifted poet, and while I would spout my dreams of being the next Maya Angelou, he wanted nothing more than to teach the literature he loved so much. I learned so much from him, but as the school year came to a close, we had the whole, where is this whole thing going anyway? talk and that was that with that. I moved home for the summer and few weeks found my friend Tim and I drunk and on xanax and in my bed. That lasted ten months, despite the fact he went to college in Baltimore, and despite the fact that because he was friends with Greg, he was constantly paranoid I would cheat on him. Ironically enough, I never did.

I dumped Tim in the spring and became so out of control it soon became imperative I get a boyfriend. This was the time period where I lost track of my "Number" and I still to this day am not quite sure what it is. Soon I found one, two actually; Cocaine and Colin. This lasted until one very nasty spring weekend senior year. The assholes at the college newspaper still have it in their online archives, and if you know my maiden name, I'm sure you've already read it.


I managed to get rid of Colin. But not my other lover. At this point it makes sense to mention that once when I was in Baltimore visiting Tim, a psychic on the street grabbed my hand and said, "This guy is not your soulmate, you will meet your soulmate in two years. This would be the March after I graduated college. I was still not quite done with my other lover and my life was pretty much unmanageable....The few months before I met Richy I wandered around like that duck in the childrens book... 'Are you my soulmate?"

Then I met Richy. He rescued me from everything....but I never really learned my lesson.

Which brings us to the now. The now that is too painful, too fresh, and too risky to discuss on the innnernets....

I end this post the way I began it. Alone, full of fear and anxiety. But as it was written in The Way of the Peaceful Warrior "We are here and it is now. Beyond that, all human knowledge is moonshine."


Shine on my darling readers. Thanks for being here, reinforcing the fact that my writing is the one thing no one can ever take away from me, and that no Lexus, Louis Bag, or $600 dinner could ever take the place of.

Still, Blue Moon Over My Mothers House just doesn't have the same ring to it.

Stop the World! I Want to Get Off!!!!

So, I'm going out of my mind. But the bitch keeps finding me. No car, no income, no husband, and I just ran out of dog food. The thought of taking the bus to publix fills my Gucci and Barton G's accustomed little heart with an anxiety so deep there is absolutely no where for it to go. Perhaps I'll start pacing around the pool again. That was a fun few hours yesterday. Or perhaps I'll continue to work on my sordid personal history....At least one thing is still free... And the jets in the pool are working just fine....