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Day 178: Sometimes When I Blog…on Caffeine

| Aspergers Girls

Sometimes when I blog…

1. I get concerned about what I write, how I come across, and if I am expressing myself accurately. I mean do people really truly understand how quirky I am? Or do I need to prove it more?

I cleaned my study for 3 hours. Frequent readers will notice the neatly organized shelf. You can clap now. I had caffeine. Can you tell? This is not my normal expression.

2. I worry that I am exposing my inner most secrets to an unknown alien race or zombie civilization…or worse…my mother-in-law.

Yes…I call my dog Spastic Colon…but you should hear the name I called her the other night…She smelled really bad….

3. I stress that I will reach day 366 (leap year) two weeks early, on account that I posted a few times too many in one week; and that in actuality I will be ending my year of blogging short, and thusly lying, and making my whole blog, Everyday Aspergers, one giant scam!!!

Totally off subject….but because of a dear, dear friend…they upgraded our first night stay in Maui from standard room to the 2,000 square foot Penthouse with ocean views…..Yes….this was AWESOME

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View from the PENTHOUSE. When in line for free veggie burgers, I was giggling and saying loudly in line: “Boys, should we go back to our PENTHOUSE after this.” And “Wow, I can’t wait to gather at the PENTHOUSE later.”

4. I laugh when my sons inquire when I am going to add advertisements to my posts to start rolling in the cash.

My youngest asks everyday when he can get a high paying job and who employs ten year olds. Today he said that he has everything he wants in life and is so happy he can cry. Amazing what an I-Pod Touch and a Slip-N-Slide can do for a kid! Of course I said, “The test is to be this happy when things aren’t going perfectly well.” He said, “I know.” And then I started thinking I still have a lot of practicing to do until I fully understand that concept myself. Like when it’s the tenth day of no fricken sun in Washington come fall.

5. I miss commenters, wonder what they are like in person, and wish I could visit each and every single person who visits my blog. I think about how long this would take, how much money, and which places in the world have the very best chocolate.

Maui has a secret place in the mountains where you can find fresh baked banana bread (from banana trees on property) with bread dipped in chocolate and ice-cream in the middle. If you send me a ticket to Maui, I’ll take you there!!!

6. I make super good friends that I talk to every single day (AlienHippy) and share intimate details of my life with, and get to act like I’m twelve, and giggle, and joke, and talk about my wood elf fantasy life, and count the months (36) until I can fly to England and meet her!!!

A magical elf land photo just for you AlienHippy. I can’t wait for you to take me to the magical forests in England and introduce me to the Elf People!!! Yay!! he he (Photo on yesterday’s walk)

7. I get obsessed about photography. Every moment is an opportunity to share my world with people! A hailstorm. A party. A stream. A tree. Heck, even a sock nailed to a post. Everything is more exciting and worthy of sharing!!!

Hail on my birthday!!! The Gods were celebrating!

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Freak storm with lightening and thunder and hail! Happy Birthday to me!

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Coming down in buckets. Neighbor said she hadn’t seen the likes of a storm like this in years! July 2012 Yep…..SUMMER

8. I wake up in the middle of the night with the best poem in all the universes, and scribe the words in detail, only to awake in the morning thinking who wrote this poop? Then I spend two hours re-crafting my words, and feel like a genius, when my sea sister , blog brother , Sweet Angel, or long time supporter, George, compliment me. If they only could see the original draft…we’d all get a good laugh then.

I love this photo….maybe a poem….Sail on mice and wheat grass of ebony mountains with Robin Hood.

9. I wait nervously staring at the computer, waiting for that first comment to validate that I actually communicated and sent my thoughts out into cyberspace to be tracked and received by a real person.

Sending out an S.O.S.

10. I want to stop! I want to quit! I want to say enough. Until I get a message from a female with Aspergers saying how much my words mean to her. Then I tear up, and my heart swells big, and I know I am on the right path, or I am the Grinch…or something like the Grinch, with an over-sized heart who wants to join hands and sing around a tree.

Boardwalk Path through state park yesterday. 🙂

11. I get obsessed with stat numbers that catch my attention. Like today 66,600 visits was the total around mid-afternoon, and I just couldn’t settle my mind until the three sixes disappeared all together. Or the 513 subscriber. I love 13, and was so giddy at the 13; that subscriber 514 was a wee bit of a letdown. And at one point today, my post 116 Reasons I Know I Have Aspergers had exactly 116 views! Now that was coolness to the max. Did I mention the quirky aspect?

Lucky me!!! Three deer. Count them. Three, stopped in front of my van in Pacific Grove, California when I was about to make a right turn. 🙂 “Oh, I have to take these photos for my blog!” Boys: Rolling eyes.

12. I meet another blogger in real life!!! Someone I didn’t know at all 4.5 months ago, that now is a part of my waking, walking, breathing, flesh world! We live 11 hours away from each other. And turns out our parents live about one mile from one another, and we both lived in WA and CA at different parts of our lives. And we both have a great “drunk” look, without a drop of alcohol. By the way K, my husband said he thinks you’re hot. (My biggest worry in meeting K was that she would finally discover how my I-Mac computer is god-like in its ability to hide my wrinkles and shrink my nose in up close photo shots.)

Cutie K, laughing!

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Our “How sweet our we?” Pose

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Our drunken pose….seen late at night in local dive bars….lol My nose is not that big….it’s the angle….my husband reassured me..several times

13. Oh….and I sometimes forget what I was going to do. Here’s the sock photo.

A sock photo taken entirely for your enjoyment.

14. I spend up to three hours looking for the perfect song to match my mood.

15. I say WHAT THE HECK!!! LIVE a LITTLE, GIRLFRIEND! No one, absolutely no one, will care if you publish at 11:53 pm, instead of midnight, and count the post as the next day’s post. It’s okay. Really. It’s all going to be Okay!

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I was having a really good hair day in this photo. Don’t you think?

July 2012 With a kind friend in California

Day 171: Release

| Aspergers Girls

Jealousy. Your voice loud and rhythmic, unceasing, like hornets droning piercing words into ear. You buzz, forging into the depth of my mind. Stinging eruption. To feed you, to return to hive, to calm your fury-dance, I submit to my weakness, my self-doubt, my agony. Submit and release, and whisper across your wings, I am beauty infinite.

Anger. Your drumming eternal. Imploding and exploding simultaneously. Releasing your nectar poison, red army ants feasting on organs. Nibble bite, nibble bite. Appetite continuous circle, no tail, no mouth, only motion. Captive screaming in pain; until released with open arms to the enveloping space. Accept all that enters, so same door may provide exit. To the torture, bid goodbye as lady kisses sailor to sea. To return with gifts and longing, when empty heart is stirred again.

Grief. Your fingers dip inside me, a thirsty stranger reaching in to drink. I am lessened, depleted, dried, and withered, and left again with twisted thoughts of what ifs, where, and when. Now, this moment, no longer exists, only dancing shadows that turn and move wildly in search of clothes they cannot wear and mouths that cannot move. Your voice is shallow. Your echo deep. Penetrating the very essence of my love-filled being. I remove you slowly, through tears, replenish body by giving freely the desired water to earthly dweller.

Remorse. Time is a player. He cascades across hallways of the past. Time playing in time. Not a man, nor woman, not beast, or plant. But an illusion. Some witness of a passing that does not exist. An invisible keeper of invisible existence. Back and back, revisiting the avenues of sadness. Turn back the clock to appease the dragon, only to be set afire. Singed and ash-covered by pretend foe. To return and breathe in emptiness, where cloaked imaginings cannot wander or exist. To arise unscorched like phoenix through forgiving sun. Bid mind’s searching goodbye. Leaning into the hope and promise of new day.

Lust. Awe, sweet angel dressed in black. You feed off of soul. Tempting the temptress, warming the warmer, cascading round pools of opportunity. I see you swerving, a lady of painted words. Come hither forward and fill me true with wishes of what will be, if given chance. Come hither forward, too, and show thy whole self, the aftermath and consequence. The red of what bleeds through when nothing covers soul but enchanting mystery. I give in and feel the eruption, caressing the dreams, only to rise half-full and more hungered. The more you entice, the more I search. Until at last I come home, with appetite for self, moving beyond the promises that hide behind unknown curtains.

Want. I breathe in the sunshine of your valleys, the moon of your sea, the gelatin of bone. I wear you. The finest cloth and richest jewels. I twirl and spin, a child in her dressing game. Giggles of delight. A borrower, a lender not. A giver tainted. A sunlit smile turned over for inspection. Take. Possess. Own. Obtain. Grab. Hoard. Stop. This need. Turn inward to the greatest castles of existence. The mountains filled with treasures buried within the endless soul. Searching not for what is lacking but what is already given. The limitless capacity for growth and transition. The all-encompassing ability to love immensely within an eternity of release.

Day 164: Undeep Road Thoughts

| Aspergers Girls

What I thought about while I drove eleven hours (700 miles) to California.

  1. “God gives us dope! God gives us dope! God gives us dope!” (Remembering back to when my young boys screamed this through the house, after they misheard the song lyrics: “God gives us hope.” I never had the heart to correct them.)
  2. Oh, I can pinch much less fat around my waist now.
  3. I wonder if I should use the all-wheel drive option for hills. Oh, what the heck. Let’s see what happens.
  4. Blue sky! I see blue sky! I wonder how tan I’ll get?
  5. “You know what?  Bird shit could easily be considered abstract art. Just look at it. (points to sidewalk) Even a good artist would have a hard time duplicating that.” ~ My middle son’s comment a few weeks ago
  6. The time when I was twelve, the seventh grade fieldtrip was to Ashland, Oregon, a seven hour school bus ride. On arrival I stepped on a nail and had to go the emergency room for a tetanus shot. On departure I threw up all over the backseat.
  7. The time I was a teacher and went to science camp with my fifth grade class and ended up in the emergency room for severe breakout of poison oak.
  8.  I’ve been in an ambulance at least six times.
  9. The time when I was a student at middle school, and in science class a boa constrictor snake wrapped itself around my waist, went through my belt hoops, and got stuck. I had to give the boa constrictor’s owner my pants to take home. Why does weird stuff always happen to me?
  10. There are a whole lot of songs about love and heartbreak on the radio, that pretty much cover every possible scenario, and that I’ve just about experienced every single scenario.
  11. My muse. My darling muse. The enigma who makes me read, write, and digest erotica.
  12. My youngest son is much like a wild hamster in the way he nests and clutters up the backseat of the van. Is there such a thing as wild hamsters?
  13.  I never ever see tailgaters in Washington, but see them all over California.
  14. Who thought it was a good idea to close California state parks? Who thought it was a good idea to elect the Terminator as a governor?
  15. Country singers can make anything sound sad and sexy.
  16. It was so kind of the restaurant waitress to subtract the price of the vegetarian omelet from my bill after I politely explained that they might want to be careful not to accidentally have chunks of ground beef in the veggie omelet.
  17. How wonderful that you have to let someone pump your gas in Oregon. It’s the law.
  18. How fortunate that out of all the gas stations in the upper portion of California that I happened to pick the only free full-service gas station. And that the man with the one arm and missing teeth who pumped my gas had the most beautiful energy and spirit. And that I could feasibly marry a man with one arm and missing teeth. And that looks do not matter to me nearly as much as the energy I share with a person. And that I need to stop worrying about my looks, because I radiate love and positive energy. And I am beautiful just like the man with one arm and missing teeth.
  19. How great that so many people have the capacity to travel the manmade road, through manmade passage ways, passages that were exploded with dynamite.
  20. Trucks are sexy. I would make a lousy truck driver.
  21.  I think way too much about way too much, and could probably survive with my sanity intact in solitary confinement because of my vivid imagination and inquisitive thought processes.
  22. For some reason the phrases “pump my gas” and “big rig” sound erotic.
  23. I’m so happy. I wonder if I drank too much iced-tea.
  24. I’m having a really good hair day.

Day 141: Living to my Desire

| Aspergers Girls

Rose Tears

I am but a rose

Set upon your place

Of non-existence

Of non-reality

Only an image, a ghostly apparition

Made up and invented

I am thornless

Or I am piercing

I am red

Or I am blue

Whispered sweetness

Or casual nonsense

Truth

Or lies

They live if you speak so

I am nothing

I am everything

And you swim in me

All at once

Whether I exist or not

Matters not

Only where you put me

This invisible drifting light

Manifested from your mind’s breath

by Sam

This morning I had a very healing chat with a sweet friend over tea at a local coffee house. She brought me a lovely bouquet from her house, and a red bandana to wipe my tears.

I am an abundance of wavering emotions. In the center is this deep gratitude for having the capacity to connect to beautiful beings of light, and to see my beauty reflected in their souls. I traveled a long road to get where I now stand, capable of seeing my own worth, and in turn, to see the intense magnificence of others’ spirits.

The experience of seeing another as pure light and radiating love is nothing short of a miracle. Everyone seems to have come alive, much like the perineal flower bursting anew after long winter’s snow. With everyone I touch, with each person that touches me, I am finding these beautiful mirrors of beauty, a thousand times a thousand opportunities to embrace the radiance within both myself and another. Along with this journey, comes this continual overwhelming of emotions.

I am much a splintered dam with waters rushing through. I know not what to expect or what to make of what is happening in my reality. But I know enough to stop the mind’s wonderings and questions. I know enough that in speaking my truth, that in honoring my authentic self, authentic needs and desires, that I have opened up to a world of rich opportunity, love, and grand joy. And with the joy, equal sorrow. I continue to swim and swim in my walk, as if above the ground below, and dog-paddling forward in an energy of purity.

I do not long to impress, convince, prove, or pretend.

Pretending was the first robe I shed.

Convincing another or longing to prove my point of view, that garment came off next.

And the third to disappear, the yearning to impress.

I no longer long for approval.

I am enough.

And I know this readily because you are enough.

The tears keep coming, the soldiers and troops from eons ago that gathered by the river preparing to march onward but never heard the bugle’s call. They come now, at my spirit’s beckoning, leading me onward, lifting me up beyond where I’d been.

I see more now. Perhaps because my true eyes are at last open.

And I trust more now.

I trust the unpredictability of the universe, the absence of knowing, the inability to plan, to expect, to will.

I have found the freedom in releasing.

I have finally understood the concept of “letting go,” in understanding nothing and no one is or ever will be mine.

I trust in the guiding light, whatever form one imagines this source or lack of source to be.

I just entirely trust.

The continued signs, continued recognitions and awakenings, remind me I am moving.

Not up or down, backwards or forward—but moving just the same.  I only need to be. No more. No less.

I am living to my desire.

His Call

| Aspergers Girls

The new theme for my life, I have decided, is breaking free. Breaking free of rigid restrictions I set upon myself. Breaking free of old tapes that replay messages that no longer serve a purpose in my growth. Breaking free of the box I put myself into in order to avoid living and feeling. Breaking free of fear. And breaking free of secrets.

Today I decided to break free of this idea that I can only post once a day. I notice that us poets sometimes need to post more. It’s our hearts, I gather, exploding with passion and angst, and this surging creativity that seemingly is rebirthed daily.

Sometimes I wait until the magic hour of midnight to post; just so I can post twice in a day, but I don’t really count that as posting twice. Turns out I’m about twelve days ahead of myself…my blog is living in the future.  And I kind of wonder how I will catch up. Wonder what Sam is doing ahead of me.

I’m quite tired of living by structure and rules, especially my own. Tired of routine, expectations, and people-pleasing. Realizing I want to please myself—to honor my desires, wants, and dreams. And thusly, I’m posting again. And breaking free.

His Call

Mountain morning dove

Set upon the pearly staircase

Wrapped within the valley blue

Draped in lace and contemplation

The white of one split two

Hears echoing

From peak

The nightingale’s beckon

Stronger than the cry of river falls

Lighter than the foe of painter’s black

The vibration of symphony devoured

Within the deepest depths

Phoenix-fire ignited

Rebirthed as starlit sky

Beyond the endless cage

Scooped longingly within engulfing embrace

Merging feathers

Churned milky-honey

 A blended sweetness

To soar within

© Everyday Aspergers, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

My ten-year-old son just handed me this sweet story he wrote.

Bunny

Turtle loved to play with his buddy fish. But one day a stranger came up to them while they were playing splash. “Hi. My name is Bunny can I play, too?”

“Yea. You can play.”

They were all playing but when they started to play under the water hide-and-go-seek, Bunny couldn’t breathe. Bunny asked if he could play another game.

“Can we play a different game?” he asked.

“No. We can’t. We like to play this game.”

Bunny came home that day very sad. His mom asked what was the matter. “Well, I was playing with some kids and they were playing a game I can’t play. So I asked it we could play a different game and they said, ‘no.'”

“Well, that wasn’t the nice thing to do,” his mom said.

“What’s nice, Mommy?”

“Well nice is being kind and caring and being polite.”

“Oh. Okay, But what do I do about it?”

“Find new friends that are nice to you. Okay?”

The next morning the bunny was hopping around and found the squirrel. “Hi. Want to play?”

“Yes. Let’s play!”

And they did, all day long.

When bunny got home, he was so happy.

His mom asked him, “Where were you?”

“Playing with squirrel!”

“Great. You found a new friend.”

“Yes. And he’s cool. Thank you, Mom.”

~ Robert C 2012

Thanks for being my new friend and being so flippin cool ~ Sam 🙂