I love rainy days in Las Vegas. I do not know if I can express the beauty and awe of it. It is a great gift, almost an offering to ease my tormented soul. To watch the desert sigh in contentment of being united with it’s long lost friend of water, precious water. The rocky pillars surrounding the city, normally angry and menacing, seem to hug the city out of happiness. Those great pillows of dark clouds fill the sky, yet break away in small puffs, letting the blue sky shyly reveal itself and join the celebration of rain. The scent gently encompasses all and hushes the noise that is ever so threatening. Rain is peace. Peace that comes in only a few fleeting moments in ages of time. Peace that I needed, for I feel as if I were being picked apart by vultures. I feel the claws digging at me, tearing at my flesh, blood gushing at every wound. I try to scream, to break out above the wave of wings and claws, but my voice is not there and I am not dying. Death will not come and shew away the dark wave of pain. This cage has no escape. But the rain cleanses even the deepest of wounds, and is my temporary relief.
4 or so inches May 18, 2008
I had a nice little laugh today. I’m working a very long shift…well double shift to be exact, 23 out of 24 hours. I have 11 more hours to go. Yes I am as tired as always, but I take delight and comfort where I can. In fact, we had a slow moment at the hospital and I decided to leave for a little bit before my next shift. I ran over to a little teriyaki place around the corner. This week has been full of odd encounters. When I look my worst I bump into guys that I have an attraction for….ya, tell me about, perfect timing on my part. Anyways, here I am in my grubby scrubs, no makeup, hair a mess thanks to the Vegas heat and wind. I walk into the teriyaki place, and this gorgeous guy looks up at me. Broad shoulders, dark hair, almost a baby face, but very much a man…in a word yummy, and I’m not talking about the food. Basically the type of guy that could chew me up and spit me out for breakfast without a second thought. *sigh* No worries though, I like the eye candy, but I demand something much more substantial. Anyways, I was having fun perving. I ordered my food to go of course…no time, like always. I rush out the door with him hot on my heels. When I finally reached my car and dared to glance back at him, I saw a slim white cancer stick hanging off his lips. Ugh!! Dude killed my fantasy. Yick! His yum factor went straight to yuck! It’s interesting what 4 or so inches make. Again yick!
Strange Dreams May 8, 2008
I should have blogged this days ago. It was fresh in my head and very entertaining, so I don’t know how this will turn out. I’ve been having very strange dreams lately. I blame all the graveyard shifts I’ve been doing. I am going on no sleep for over 24 hours, but I want to get this down before I forget. So bare with me, it was a vivid dream and reads like a story. And is very weird.
I stared in the mirror, choking back a hysterical laugh that was threatening to escape. Though why I was worried I didn’t know, I was alone for the moment. The reflection in the mirror brought up many emotions ranging from amusement to horror to confusion. I had never been one for pacts, but somehow I felt like I was caught up in an imaginary one. One that I never knew existed, but obviously did. Otherwise I wouldn’t be staring at the strange dress I was wearing, or fidgeting with a veil. Ha! A veil. Never in a million years would I ever consent to wearing a veil on my wedding day, it was such a waste of good hair. Yet here I was, wearing a light blue jumper dress that hit my knees, complimented with a very white and ruffly shirt underneath, a stiff white veil that covered practically every inch of my hair and very simple white keds on my feet. I snorted, that’s what I get for marrying an 80’s child. I rolled my eyes. How did I get myself into this mess? This would be a marriage of convenience, not love, as I always knew I wouldn’t find. But I had vowed never to marry, so this must be some sick dream. I took a deep breath and leaned out the door to peak outside. Hoping the cold air would wake me…it didn’t. Maybe I could just walk away. But then almost violently a flood emotions overwhelmed me as I thought of all the people I would disappoint, not including the groom. I was just about to lean back into the room when I heard someone call my name. It stunned me, I wasn’t prepared to talk to anyone, and especially not her. Cee came bouncing up eagerly and pushed her way through the door. I was stunned, I hadn’t seen or heard from her in years. I didn’t remember inviting her, I didn’t invite her, as the reasons why I wouldn’t flickered through my head. She was on engagement number 19, I think. Not someone I wanted near me when I was so skittish anyways. She didn’t see the anger on my face as she talked animatedly about the “happy event”. After her small talk died she finally managed a good long look at me. I had recovered by then and looked blankly back at her. She was taking in my mood, sizing me up, ready to pounce at the first sign of weakness. She wanted to me to skip out. I could see that clear as day. Not because she new any of the particulars, no this was a more selfish endeavor. She wanted me to fail, so that she would feel better. She couldn’t bare the thought that someone like me was marrying before her. But at that moment I showed no sign of weakness, I quietly thanked my stubborn nature for that. I was determined to go through with this. I hadn’t heard her continue with little things about this and that with the wedding, but suddenly her words sliced through me like fire, she mentioned the kiss. Had we practiced the kiss for the ceremony? I was mortified. How had I let that detail slip pass? How could we kiss in front of everyone? We had never kissed before, and never wanted to. I felt sick, nervous and nauseated at the same time. Cee noticed and faked concern. She was whispering to me now, something about leaving a note and making sure everyone was informed of my decision. My head snapped up and rage filled me. I tried to reign things in before I lashed out. I opted for a dramatic walk out, and grabbed my bouquet and declared I had a wedding to attend. I ran out the door not caring that my hair and makeup would never last the long walk I had to make to the ceremony. Down the street I glanced at an empty park bench. I rushed to it and sat heavily with a sigh. An almost perfect plan thwarted by a kiss.
I woke up after that….soooo weird.
Oh, and for some reason, I was marrying a younger version of Billy Idol. Fun eh.
Battle May 5, 2008
I’ve been thinking of battles lately. Like the struggle between good and evil, right and wrong. But the battles I have in mind are a bit different. Have you ever struggled between two good things? Or battled between doing what is responsible, or what you have a passion for? Not everything in life is black and white, and I am grateful for that. But how do you decide to lead your life? How do you live your dream and live at the same time? How does someone create, invent, or inspire and be responsible at the same time? Can those things exist in the same world? Well yes they do exist in the same world, but can they get along? It is maddening to be the responsible one and try to dream as well. It seems school, work, and the obligations of everyday life beat the passion out of us. So I often wonder…why do we do it? I guess if I am completely honest with myself, the reward wouldn’t be as great without the struggle. That would be a true victory.