Category: My Ramblings

I’m feeling nostalgic

I was listening to some songs on You Tube.

Funny,

Ever listen to a song you haven’t heard for a long time and remember all the words?

I was listening to a Mike And The Mechanics song The Living Years.

I think all of us who have fathers who have passed can relate to that song.

I like, that the song, is not an attempt at a Hallmark moment.

It’s about the fact, that we all carry the hopes and fears of the previous generation

 and that everybody blames everybody.

In spite of that,

 we miss them and we love them.

The Living Years reminds me of Dad.

Besame Mucho and really sweet iced cake, of my grandfather.

The sweetest most sentimental man I have ever known.

He has been gone more than twenty years.

 I think of him often.

My grandma has been gone for twelve,

 she wasn’t always so easy.

But, when I need a moral compass I always turn to her memory.

She always had something good to say about people.

Even, when there wasn’t much, she would come with ,

“Well, they’re clean”

You gotta love that.

She had a tough time of it at the end,

 I think she had regrets and she was lonely.

I hope she knew how important she was to me.

I told her,

 but,

 you know people don’t always listen.

You can’t live in the past and in the what if’s.

But, revisiting and staying in touch with who you are, is important.

Sometimes I forget who I am and I get lost in an emotional Maelstrom.

I am the daughter and granddaughter of,

 strong and weak,

 men and women.

One thing about me,

 I am loved, this much I know.

Oh, and

I’m clean.

Later girls

BB

 “If a man has no constant lover who shares his soul as well as his body, he must have a diary—a poor substitute, but better than nothing. That is all there is to it in my case” James Lees-Milne

I read this quote recently in a book review and thought to myself,

 I have to read this guy’s diaries.

 I love diaries and memoirs as well as, books of letters.

Their are full of unvarnished truth, contrary to autobiographies,

which tend to put the writer in the best light possible.

It got me thinking,

 Is the blog the modern diary?

I have kept a journal over the years and have written the occasional love letter and poem.

But, I find the blog somehow, even more liberating.

I never really know who reads it and honestly,

 I like the mystery and true confession part of it.

Of course,

I know some of the people who read it and comment

and  I like that as well.

Who knows just thinking out loud.

later, girls

BB

I changed the look of my blog. I’m still working out the kinks, I’m computer challenged.

Just said goodbye to two good friends who are driving down the 401 (moving to Toronto)

I wish them much luck and happiness in their new city.

 I’ll miss them but, hey now I have an excuse to go to Toronto.

Godspeed girls.

BB

Good morning, girls.

I’m really happy about the cool, dry, weather,

 I slept very well.

I went out  last night to have a few pitchers of beer with a friend of mine.

I really enjoy our exchanges and conversations.

 Sometimes they can be quite intense,

 sometimes on the borderline of rocky,

 other times over the edge.

We battle back from those,

because,

 I believe,

 there is genuine respect and affection.

I’m really trying to be smoother in my dealings with friends,

I acknowledge that I’m sometimes hard to take.

Mea culpa.

So, we talked about many things.

A lot, about my dismal love life,

 and my bruised and battered ego.

But, what I wanted to talk to you guys about,

 was the notion of a writer.

Here’s what I mean.

To me, a writer has always been, someone who writes,

with the intention near or far,

 of  being published,

or at least in this brave new world,

read.

My friend doesn’t see it that way,

I don’t want to misinterpret what she said,

and I hope she will let me know if I do,

but basically, she said that many of us are writers,

when we really care about words and books,

 we are,

 on a certain level writers.

Please forgive my simplification, I was inebriated at the time.

The idea struck me as highly original,

my friend is highly original,

I’ve been thinking about it  since,

I’m not sure whether I agree or disagree but,

 I think it’s food for thought.

Are those of us who blog about this and that writers?

If you keep a journal are you a writer?

Do fumblings, mumblings and ramblings about books, the weather and the state of your angst riddled life qualify?

I don’t know.

What do you guys think?

Another thing she mentioned,

apparently 40% of all people who read 50 books or more a year,

 are writers.

Since, neither of us are the New York Times don’t expect a source,

remember,

 I mentioned about,

 the beer.

I’m going chew on this some more.

Have a wonderful day

I want to thank all of you for reading and comenting on this blog,

it means a lot to me.

Apparently I am both a  heart on my sleeve and guarded kinda of a girl,

 which I believe to be an acurate and astute description.

So to my friends, I say thanks for putting up with me,

 it can’t always be easy.

BB

The humidity is back.

Ugh!

I can’t sleep I’m so tense and honestly, I”m exhausted.

The pipe problem is fixed.  Hallelujah.

A minimum of damage,

 it’s a little bit smelly but, everybody says they can’t smell it.

I am known for my bionic nose,

remember Jamie Summers, the bionic woman,

 very hot, especially when she moved her hair to engage the bionic hearing.

Sorry, sex on the brain, this too shall pass.

Quiet week not much going on, except on thursday going out,

 for I hope, multiple brewskies with a friend.

It’s called drowning you sorrows. Good company, sparkling conversation and beer.

Can’t finish anything,

 I got a woman on the brain.

 Rejection sucks, but, hey,

 I still got my health,

 and friends.

Sorry girls, full moon talking.

 I think I’ll take a break.

Later girls

BB

The summer heat has been upon us for a while and it has been exhausting.

  When I was a little kid I used to go to summer camp for a few weeks every summer,

 this went on for 3 or 4 years.

For an only child this was not the easiest of experiences , but, it was far from traumatic.

I remember swimming in those cold Laurentian lakes,

 wouldn’t that be fabulous in 45 degree weather?

Singing songs by the campfire and a beautiful camp counselor whose name was, Isabelle.

In my memory, Isabelle has long, almost straw coloured hair, she wears a red t-shirt and cutoff  jean shorts.

She  smelled vaguely of shampoo and a bug spray and tucked us in at night.

Luminous, perfection— captured in memory.

I must have been 8 or 9 and I remember her being the first woman I wanted to be close to.

It was love.

I know, I know– what the hell do you know about love at 8?

Well, I knew from that day forward that women were it for me.

I doubt that Isabelle was even a lesbian,

 I wasn’t,

 I was a kid but,

 I knew that my eventual love would come in the shape of a woman.

Maybe not that clearly but, I knew.

I also remember noticing that she didn’t wear a bra under her t-shirt,

 so obviously my thoughts were not all chaste. 🙂

She liked me and I must have looked at her with stars in my eyes.

I know I’m rambling. It’s the heat.

The reason I’m telling you all this is that last night I had dinner with friends.

 We had a great time.

Good food, good company and I remembered that I can be and have, fun.

I lose that occasionally, this I blame on hormones, and an all work no play kind of life.

So, here’s to fun and not taking things too seriously,

 and perhaps recapturing the feel of a cold mountain lake , the warmth and smell of a bonfire and

the wonder of an Isabelle.

I know a girl, she has brown eyes and perfect lips and she looks at me and,

 I feel special, I am special.

Perhaps that is enough.

Later girls

have some fun

BB

We are having a heat wave in Montreal,

 actually the entire eastern part of North America is smog and heat.

 I have been in most of the day-

 I hate the heat,

 and I didn’t have much to do (day off).

A friend gave a copy of,  Back To Basics- A Butch-Femme Anthology.

This book was published by Bella After Dark a few years ago (2004)

I’m really glad she did I enjoyed it.

I expected this anthology to be like most of them.

Some stories I would like, some I would hate and, some would just not be my thing.

I was surprised this anthology contained some truly thought provoking fiction.

Don’t get me wrong, I love lesbian romance and erotica.

But, this book was a notch above,

 with some stories that asked some questions about our notions of butch, femme and what truly is feminine.

You should check it out.

Next on my list, one of the books I bought with my birthday gift certificate,

 Micheal Tolliver Lives!by Armistead Maupin.

I remember loving all of Maupin’s Tales of the City series as well as The Night Listener,

I hope I enjoy this one as much.

One thing is for sure, I will be sharing.

I anticipate having a lot of time to read, with the heat people don’t go book browsing.

I hope I am wrong, but, if I am right,

 I am equipped with quite a few books.

Have a good one, stay cool.

Later girls

BB