Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Old People Are Cool

I am not talking old like "parent old."

I mean like really old....like dust fartin, one foot in the grave, daisy's calling you old?

My friend Amy asked me the other day "Would you want to live to be 97? I sure the fuck don't" she said.

I was like "Well as long as I don't shit my pants and have my senses still yeah I would."

If I lose my marbles like my great gram did, thats ok, I would meet new people everyday and be happy.

If I shit my pants...that ain't ok, but the thing is...you could.

Old people always have nice cars and loads of money. But they always act like they are broke...but thats why they have lots of money because they act like they are broke. I seen my grandma buy a pack of gum with a hundred.

They ask for gas in the full service part of the gas station by the gallon not the amount.

They tip a dollar and wink when they do it.

They can run their car into a shopping mall and take out 4 or 10 people and say it was the car.

They always have candy.

Their whole family fears them.

They pick out their clothes carefully, even if it's a T-shirt with a flowerpot.

They know some good dirty jokes.

I knew this one old chick that ran a thrift store that swore to god she invented the thong. She used to work in a cabaret back in the day and said she never got a patent on it but if she did she would be rich.

I knew this old guy when I used to bartend whose middle name was Schrapnel after the schrapnel bomb, his uncle invented it. So thanks to him, the unabomber and many others became famous. He even showed me his drivers license and sure enough his middle name was Schrapnel.

So do I want to live to be old? Hell yeah, they have great music and good stories. If I shit my pant...oh well then I know it's my kids turn to put up with my stink.

Life is

*pic of my 2 sisters by my sis*
I was recently posed a question on my blog about what life is to me. I thought about this for awhile and thought of all the material and non material things that we can conclude as the meaning of life. Such as money, fame, fortune, house, car or happiness, love, health. and so on.
I thought of my life, so far and the things in my life that make it what it is to me. So I sat down and wrote this.
What is life to me...Dana.

Life are the flowers I used to pick as a child and run home to show them to my grandma just to make her smile.

Life is when my favorite song plays on the radio and no one is around to hear me sing it.

Life is talking to elders and hearing their stories of how things were.

Life is sitting with good friends over a coffee & smokes and having that buzz that only good friends can accomplish. Laughter echoes even when you lay down to go to sleep that night.

Life is wedding vows, drum beats and hot coffee.

Life is watching your sons play a football game in chilly weather with a big blanket and cup of hot chocolate.

Life is being in your 30's and laying out in the lawn in the middle of the night to watch the stars twinkle and remember days past when you did this and would dream dreams that probably never happened but now you have new dreams....and maybe, just maybe they will happen.

Life is watching a child blow the fuzz off of a dandelion and knowing they are making a wish thet they hope with all hope will come true.

Life is having a good friend who will hold you when you need it the most

Life is potato soup on an autumn day.

Life is cooking out in the middle of winter during a Sunday morning NFL game.

Life is watching the Yankees in the fall.

Life is baking a homemade chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting because it makes your kids dance with happiness.

Life is a looking out the window during a blizzard in a warm house.

Life is laying around with all your children talking about when you was little, yes when the dinosaurs were alive.

Life is sitting on my moms back porch and getting ideas for next weeks column over a cigarette with her.

Life is joking with my dad, sitting in a teepee and hearing his stories, calling him on the phone without long distance charges.

Life is hearing my daughter sing.

Life is Grandma Noreen's soup,Grandma Pearl's bread, Grandma Lucille's quilting, Grandma Poxie's hospitality, and Grandma Dod's sense of humor.

Life is laying on the couch with a good book, a quilt, and a purring cat.

Life is autumn leaves floating in a dirty mud puddle that reflects the bright blue sky.

Life is how you see it. If you think negative about everything, then that is your life. My life is how I see it and feel it and live it. I choose to be happy and relish in every facet of happiness in my life whether it be big or small. And that is what life is to me....awesome.

I love my life and the four little human beings that gave my life meaning.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

What my name means

p>Okay, I took this from my Aunt Sandy's blog...at first I just wanted to see what the heck it said about me. Then I decided to put it here so I can come back and look at it. Here is why;

There are 15 letters in your name.
Those 15 letters total to 65
There are 7 vowels and 8 consonants in your name.

Your number is: 11

The characteristics of #11 are: High spiritual plane, intuitive, illumination, idealist, a dreamer. Being a Pisces, I have always thought of myself as intuitive and a dreamer. Idealist in a sense...I can see that. I try to see things on the bright side." All the time. Sometimes though, I know I have to quit dreaming and take a step back and look at things realistically.

The expression or destiny for #11:
Your Expression number is 11. The number 11 is the first of the master numbers. It is associated with idealistic concepts and rather spiritual issues. Accordingly, it is a number with potentials that are somewhat more difficult to live up to. You have the capacity to be inspirational, and the ability to lead merely by your own example. An inborn inner strength and awareness can make you an excellent teacher, social worker, philosopher, or advisor. No matter what area of work you pursue, you are very aware and sensitive to the highest sense of your environment. Your intuition is very strong; in fact, many psychic people and those involved in occult studies have the number 11 expression. You possess a good mind with keen analytical ability. Because of this you can probably succeed in most lines of work, however, you will do better and be happier outside of the business world. Oddly enough, even here you generally succeed, owing to your often original and unusual approach. Nonetheless, you are more content working with your ideals, rather than dollars and cents. So friggin true. Nothing bores me more than working in an office. Not that I am dissing it, it just isn't me. I don't know if I ever shared this on here with anyone but Java, but when I finally move home I plan to go back to school on my reservation. We have an accredited college, where I can get my Bachelor's in Elementary Ed. More importantly, I would love to teach cultural art to the youth...I have done it so many times over the years, both as a job and voluntarily to kids in and out of my family. Nothing makes me more proud when I hear people tell me "So and So said you taught them how to bead."

The positive aspect of the number 11 expression is an always idealistic attitude. Your thinking is long term, and you are able to grasp the far-reaching effects of actions and plans. You are disappointed by the shortsighted views of many of your contemporaries. You are deeply concerned and supportive of art, music, or of beauty in any form. Also so true, well part of it. I guess I got over that thinking in short term. I used to in my 20's when I thought being in a relationship was important. I used to think that was the only way I would ever be happy. Thank god I grew up and got over that. It's not that I don't want to be in a relationship...it's just that I am happy without one. (also waiting for Derek Jeter to retire, so you know...) And it does disappoint me and maybe even offend me somewhat when I see people my age or older frantic about being in love. Some of my friends "jump" into what they think is love headfirst without thinking of the consequences or the impact it may have on those close to you later in life. I broke off my dysfunctional relationship with my ex 6 years ago because of that fact that we fought too much, i had no feelings for him but of hate, seriously how healthy is that for either party or your children. Now we have more respect for each other as friends than we did before. We can talk civilized, and will always have to have a bond between us because we have children. *sigh* I wished his girlfriend could understand that. As for being supportive of beauty in any art form, if you know me at all, you should know this to be very true.

The negative attitudes associated with the number 11 expression include a continuous sense of nervous tension; you may be too sensitive and temperamental. You tend to dream a lot and may be more of a dreamer than a doer. Fantasy and reality sometimes become intermingled and you are sometimes very impractical. You tend to want to spread the illumination of your knowledge to others irrespective of their desire or need. Wait, I didn't know they were going to say anything negative about me...lol. I think I already said above how I tend to dream too much. As for being tempermental...so true when it comes to board games or watching sports. Any guy in the local bar here knows this. I will argue and play sports trivia for beers with them. As for being impractical, there have been times when I dipped into the bill money to take my kids out to eat, then I had to hurry up and sell some beadwork to pay that bill. Yes, I fear this part of me will never leave me.

Your Soul Urge number is: 4

A Soul Urge number of 4 means:
With the Soul Urge or Motivation number of 4 you are likely to strive for a stable life. You tend to follow a rather orderly pattern and systematic approach in your endeavors. You have an inner desire to serve others in a methodical and diligent manner. You want to be in solid, conventional, and well-regulated activities, and you are somewhat disturbed by innovation and erratic or sudden changes. Excellent at organizing, systematizing, and managing, you have a way of establishing order and maintaining it. You are responsible, reliable and in the final analysis, practical. Highly analytical, you can see your way through all sorts of situations and generally have a clear understanding of the issues. You are a very honest, sincere, and conscientious individual. The last two sentences are very true, as for the others...I don't think I am that much of a grown up yet. I should be soon. Maybe.

The negative side of the 4 is rigid, stubborn and somewhat narrow-minded. There is a tendency to hide feelings, or to really not be aware of real feelings. Avoid being too rigid and stubborn in your thinking, and try to always see the big picture rather than becoming to involved with the detail. Don't be afraid to take a chance once in awhile. Ok for the first part...narrow minded...hmmm must be my political party in me coming out. Now the second 2 lines...I think they said I am turning into Nurse Ratchett from "One Flew Ovr The Cuckoo's Nest." I fear I am sometimes. Sometimes I think because of the fact that I don't want a relationship maybe I am starting to be void of feelings. Maybe I am turning into my grandmother.....scary! As for the big picture thing...that is true. I don't see it. Where the hell is it?? I will look if someone tells me! Take a chance...I do once in awhile...not for a long time though.

Your Inner Dream number is: 7

An Inner Dream number of 7 means:
You dream of having the opportunity to read, study, and shut yourself off from worldly distractions. You can see yourself as a teacher, mystic, or ecclesiastic, spending your life in the pursuit of knowledge and learning. And this will happen.

This was so interesting I will put a link up so you can try it. Here it is:

What your name means.


Saturday, October 27, 2007

My main passion in life

I love to write I do...it's in me and my blood. Somewhere in the family someone else also writes more than bounced checks.

I love to bead but I hate it too, because od deadlines and shit. I hate it. I hate that something I love i hate because I have to do it to pay the phone bill and shit.

I love to paint. I started to in elementary and was serious about it in high school because my art teacher was really cool and he got me into oil painting. I took art all 4 years as my elective and recieved A's all 4 years.

I love the Impressionist Era. I love Gauguin and Van Gogh the best. Well, Van Gogh the best I guess, everything about him and his life fascinates me.

I love to take on the view of things in this world through a brush. i love the lines and effects a brush gives.

Sometimes I wish I could see life that way.

So last year, I went to the city with my mom, sister and aunt. My mom was getting her hair foiled so we hit every thrift store that there is.

I...well my sister found a blank canvas at one for a dollar and showed it to me. I bought it but never painted anything on it.

Then when she took this picture of my baby sister Jonna I knew I was going to interpret it on that canvas.


This is how I see it through my eyes and brush


Friday, October 26, 2007

Coming Clean Challenge

Because I am cross posting this on Blogger, I have to explain myself. I am on Multiply now, if you have an account there you may add me danadane1. Yahoo 360 sucks and is shutting down on us old folks for the "younger" crowd. Anyway, I love the features on Multiply, I can post once a day and cross it to my blogspot...for the readers over here and there.

So even though I have the import blogs from 360 feature, I have chosen to just post some of my favorites from 360 one at a time, or until my old blog implodes. This one was a challenge from a guy named Scooter called The Coming Clean Challenge and if anyone wants to take the challenge feel free to. If you feel the need to come clean about something, please do. Cleanse yourself and blog it.

So last night after sitting in front of MTV...of course after Survivor, well I realized this blog deserved a re-post. It was something I was so happy to see on MTV last night and I will come clean about it...again. Sorry to anyone who may have read this...that you have to read it again.

Coming Clean

(originally posted April 21, 2006)

I guess it all started the year I was a 6th grader. I am not sure how it started, just 5 minutes at a time on Saturday mornings. In between the Cookie Crisp cereal and Rubik the Magic Cube cartoons. Then I started to get up earlier because I noticed if I was up early enough I could get my fix maybe up to 4 times on a Saturday morning. The sad thing was it only happened on Saturday, and I had this strange need for it until the summer after 7th grade. Soon my taste in music changed, my bedroom, was totally unrecognizable. I spent so much babysitting money on this need. *deep breath* Yes I was addicted...*another deep breath*

I Had Menudo Fever!

menud Uh no,... not that kind of Menudo....

....This kind of Menudo

I was a freak, I belonged to a fan club. I wrote to them, my room was wallpapered. I had pins, shirt, lord knows how I found all that way out in the Middle of Nowhere. The guy in the back on the right was my favorite. I swore I was going to MARRY him. Here's a better pic of him...lol. ( Like I have to justify this, I am coming clean here.)


There he is in the back again. Ray Reyes, baby face and green eyes, I was so whipped. And look at cute lil Ricky Martin in front. I used to watch them every Saturday morning and I think they was on Bandstand once. I had all their cassettes, even the Spanish ones, which I knew the words, but all I can do is count to 10 in Spanish and say water and closed. (Basic Sesame Street Spanish Education.) I never once thought that they dressed funny.

lol The sequins, glitter, and loud colors were cool to me. One year after I became a Menudo freak...Ray was forced to retire because he was too tall. They had odd rules. You can't be too tall, no pimples, no facial hair, and if your voice changes, your outta there. They were more strict than George Steinbrenner is with the Yankees on looks. So thats when it all died down and I moved onto other music. I never was a boy band fan again. *sigh* Had I known a year later this album came out, who knows...hmmm

All Photos are from Yahoo Image Search
So as you can guess, I was watching Making Menudo last night. Now instead of looking at these guys and thinking, I could marry them. (because that is illegal) I look at them and think...THAT COULD BE MY SON! Of course I told my boys that and they laughed and told me I was coo coo for cocoa puffs. Well they didn't, but I know they thought it when they shook their heads and shut the door on me. I just might be the new and oldest Menudo fan when they figure out who is going to be in the group. Now c'mon...come clean about...SOMETHING! Don't leave me hanging like this.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Those Damn Kids That Make Me Sappy

So last night I was beading and watching Anderson Cooper's Planet in Peril. It is an awesome documentary.

So anyway I am beading and when I bead my mind tends to wander. So I thought about my life, which led me to think about my kids.

I was thinking how lucky I was to have them. I mean sure I could scream my head off at them because they were being nerve-racking as hell and they were chasing each other af full speed all over the house giggling like girls and throwing something at each other. I could make them all behave and sit still like they was in church, but instead I let them raise hell. They laughter was loud but it was comforting. Here I have two boys going into high school next year and instead of them being out on the town, getting high and chasing pussy...here they are having fun with their little siblings.

They sounded like some damn buffalo but I figurd if I let them chase each other around, they would soon get tired, which is what they did. And they sat to watch TV.

Everything was comfortable. Then I decided that I was hungry...and there was still some rice leftover from dinner. So I got up, got me a bowl and went over to the rice pot.

There was a dirty sock in the rice.

I didn't say anything to them.

Littler fuckers, anyway.

I would have did it all over again.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

The complete and ultimate destiny

When I was a little girl i wanted to grow up to be a singer. Listening to my moms listen to Earth, wind, & fire and Al green and shit made me want to wail too. Well I do sing, but not worth shit.
I wanted ot be a cashier like the girls at the grocery store. i would play cashier with my aunities and brother and loved bagging up the empty packages and trash I sold them. Then I grew up and becamse a cashier...and standing on your feet for 8 hours is no joke. Although I do love customer service and I can seem to purr away almost any bitchiness out of anyone.
I wanted to be a teacher, then I grew up and realized that there are so many horrible parents out there that give their kids anything and everything...and I can't stand other people's bad kids.
I wanted to be a writer and I guess in a way I am. I can spin tales and weave boring ass things into something people want to read, but I feel like everyone has that in them...if they just let it happen and don't try too hard.
I have doen many thing in my life, some jobs i hated some I loved. It never mattered which paid more. I was perfectly happy and proud of my housekeeping job as I was unhappy at working in a school for way more money or in a casino for way more.
I have had so many jobs, I don't even know if I can go back and count them.
I do know one thing....above all I reached my ultimate goal and destiny in this lifetime.
I gave birth to 4 beautiful and wonderful children. I don't know what I did in my last lifetime to deserve them, but they are and always will be my greatest accomplishment.

Money or a life of leisure can not come close to compensating for what I have now.

Sunday, October 21, 2007


This weekend is a craft show in Whiteclay, Nebraskee.
Whiteclay is a horrible, little unincorporated town two miles south of where I sit and bead.
I don't know if anyone actually lives there except maybe a few transients and business owners. (I googled it, the population is 17...don't think that includes the transients and I don't believe it.)
Whiteclay is south of the border of Nebraska, where alcohol is legal. Now one thing I will say before dissing any of the business owners there is that if alcohol was legal on this reservation, we would NOT be giving all this moneyy to that little town where over 4 millions cans of beer are sold a year. 3.3 million dollars worth last year to which the alcohol sales tax for that went to the state of Nebraska and not our tribe. Whiteclay is the second largest in beer sales in the state of Nebraska next to Omaha. If alcohol was legal here we would not have a few of the problems we suffer from. I am not saying we should all drink and be happy. All I am saying is taking something away will not stop anyone from getting it. Anyone can study the Prohibition from the 20's and know that alcoholism and crime went down after the 18th amendent was repealed.

Anyway, I think about 5 years ago or so some missionary put in a Hands Of Faith church and second hand store called 555.
555 feeds free lunch on Fridays and two other meals a week. Mostly to the homeless, but I have eaten there twice for the Lakota Crafters Co-op meetings.
555 thrift store is ok, I bought my furniture there and they sell many other items and hire locally. I love buying second hand books, so I am slowly bulding up a collection of literary classics.
They have a garden, Green Tipi Gardens, in the summer with many volunteers from the reservation and the produce is given to the elderly and donated.
555 is somewhat like an oasis in the prairie when I went there to interview the manager Bruce last spring. The Green Tipi Gardens made me forget that only yards away people were begging for money and passed out.
This weekend is their Hay Days.
They will have a sort of fall festival for the kids and a craft show for the crafters of the Lakota Crafters Co-op.
I have been to fall festivals before, but never around here.
I am not an official member yet of the Co-op but the goal is for all of us crafters to achieve an income that is livable via craft shows, internet sales and fesitvals like this.
So this weekend as you are out enjoying the fall weather, remember I will be peddling my goods in the town everyone loves to hate. (and you better enjoy this weather...pretty soon snow will fly and you will say "I shoulda listened to her.")


*There has been talk and complaints that people want Whiteclay to stop selling alcohol. To me this will not stop the drinking, it will only increase business for the bootleggers and encourage driniking and driving to further towns that sell it also.

Friday, October 19, 2007

Football comes to an end.


they lost...those bad ass boys of mine with their friends.
They did their best.

The final score in the championship game was 38 to 14.

Next year 16 of them are entering high school at the same school, so expect some badd ass football blogs about the JV team.

I won't blame the coach or the refs.

BUT...If I was the coach I would NOT run the ball in the 4th when I was down by 14.

I know that much.

To Know me is to know my typos and rants

sorry for the last rant
i am not Mother theresa or even Mary Poppins, nor am I Chrissy Snow. I have bad habits, make 15 dollars per coulmn entry which is why I get pissed when it don't get accepted. Which is why I bead eat and pay my internet bill. I type horribly and am too lazy most times to use spellcheck or Word. I procrastinate EVERYTHING which is such a bad habit. I tell myself that if I put something off the pressure of doing it in a hurry makes me do it better...so I lie to myself too.
I'm 35, have 4 kids, a husband that left me for the bottle and I had to take in two people to live in my basement to help me pay my bills along with his daughter. the bad thing is it is my ex (boys father) and his annoying ass kissing gf.
i am glad he is helping me with the boys but she is so jealous of me, it's annoying. I already blew up at her once. If i wante dhis ass I would have it. He's used goods. Tehy are supposed to have a place within a week.
I don't pretend to know everything. ther eis so much I WANT to know.
So I am not perfect.
But the difference is I don't pretend to be someone else. i have struggles in my life. I have a wonderful mom who is smart as hell, strong and beautiful. But I moved away from her when I was 18.
I won't blog about her porsche because she don't have one...i could blog about her suv but why? It's not mine...she has a shitload of shoes and I could blog that but I don't....they ain't mine.
And I sure as hell wouldn't tell people I was sick when I'm not just to affirm that people I never met care about me.
that is the kind of shit that makes me sick of Yahoo and some people.
The easiest thing to be is yourself...whoever that is.
Plus today on Yahoo I tried to read some blogs of wonderful people I know...kept getting Page cannot be displayed thingy. Tried commenting on the one I could get to and kept getting that same page. Couldn't get on my own page and had to post my blog twice before it posted. the bugs are one thing...the fact that 360 is jumping ship is another...I will leave the page open but just remain inactive.
I think I have some wonderful people on my list here, most of whom I met via 360.

The Loser Blogger

I detest the loser blogger. Do you ever wonder why they puff themselves up so? Because they live at home off of their mommy at age 40, they are virgins, can't drive, chew loudly, bite their fork, in the closet, lie about everything from having cancer to their military career to hobbies. Really when you build models, call it that, don't say it's sky diving.
They make whole videos for their blog with some wanky song and pictures of nothing but themselves. They will help anyone out with their blogs, yeah it's nice. But they have to excel at something. After all those purple hearts and bronze or whatever stars don't really exist.
Losers are everywhere but dangerous in the blogging community...
It makes me sick to see them on someone else's page.
I'm sorry but I am pretty sure I posted my last 360 post.
Can I puke now?

Thursday, October 18, 2007

"Where did I get all you drama queens from, anyway?"

Ok I don't know why I was crying around over my "spunk for blogging" and wondering where the hell it is. All I have to do to find it is look to my family.
I don't even have to go back in the memory bank too far, it was less than a year ago.
About a day or two after my step dad passed, I was at my mom's helping her cook and clean since people were stopping by. I hadn't much sleep, as did anyone else.
We were basically like walking zombies.
So my mom wanted me to make something with biscuit...you know the instant biscuits. That come in the paper can. Well, if you have been following me for awhile you would know that I am scared of POPS and other loud noises. And these certain types of biscuits in a can make a loud noise when you open them.
For some reason there are no pics of the biscuits in a can, just that little, giggly bitch up there, who I bet watches from some dark corner with a sinister grin and giggles when the POP surprises someone.
Anyway, I tell my sister Jaida to open the can...she starts slowly to pull the paper. I plug my ears, yet can't take my eyes off the soon to be explosion. Jaida then hands it off to Jenna, now mind you Jaida is an Amazon and then 18. Jenna is an Amazon in the making and at the time 13. Jenna throws it to Jonna and says, "You wanted biscuits, now open it!" Jonna grabs the paper and pulls. Nothing happens.
So while us 3 older sisters are are scrambling around telling our baby 11 year old sister to use a spoon, Jenna runs and grabs a spoon. Jaida and I have our ears plugged at this time and Jenna runs out of the room.
Jonna finally notices we are watching and waiting for something as she digs in the crack of the can with the spoon....she must have let a little air in. She looks at us with her huge Liz Taylor eyes and says "What's going on?"
It was then Jaida and I notice the can getting bigger by the second and Jaida screams "JONNA>>>NOOO!" Jonna throws the can to Jesse, who was 21 and just happened to be walking by.
He is totally caught off guard as the rest of us watch the can grow with our ears plugged. "Huh." he proclaims as he watches us and walks like a toy soldier with his legs straight and the ticking time bomb held out from his body.


It explodes in his hand and he slowly marches in a circle and falls over.
All us girls laugh so hard at him.
He gets up and hands me the can and dusts himself off.
I make the biscuits and my mom is hollering at me from her room.
When I recount every detail of our drama to her, she just says "Christ, where did I get all you drama queens from, anyway?"
We all know we got it from her, but on that day...I think we needed that laughter...would have been nice if it was sans the POP.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

To Column or Not To Column

Well, I don't know what to do about my column. I took a little break from it, when my Crazy Horse column was cut out a week later after his death date. Plus I didn't have internet. So then I get an email, asking when I am submuitting an entry. So then I submit one and it doesn't get in the column. So, I don't know what that means.
I guess it is time to start working on my book on lulu.com. My friend Darrien published his there and now it is available in bookstores. Instead of the fictional one I was working on, I decided to do bits of my past blogs, since I have over 700 on Yahoo and Yahoo is going down.
It might be one of the first times a blog was put in book format, but everyone is encouraging me.
We will see if my column entry makes it for this week, if not I guess I didn't cry around enough in a real long entry.

What is crazy is the one that was rejected is that it is the same one that I just got Rising Blogger Post of The Day on here.
Oh well, give me a year, maybe I will have more to cry about.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

One Up Mofo

I think we all know this type. And I would like to steer clear from them in this lifetime but I am sure they come in every shape, size, gender, race, sexual orientation, and I am sure where evere I go in this world..even if it was the Galapagos Islands or The North Pole I would run into another species or some other shit of the sort.
Like some big lizard sunning on a rock that knows a sure way to hike without falling...or a penguin that has fancier footwork than everyone else and shovs it in your face. Or some of Santa's helpers that can outwrap you in the gift-wrapping category.
The "annoying-ass-know-it-all, one upper."
Do you have friends like this? Or one in your family? Or co-worker?
No matter what you say they already knew it. Sometimes you can make a statement and they answer you like it's a question. Or you talk about an experience and they had the same one, but better.
You do a little bragging about your kids, and their kids done more, better and don't smell like your kids do.
I happen to know a thing or two about a thing or two. I wouldn't say I was brilliant, but I will toot my family's horn, because so much of my blog's content come from everyday conversations with my family. Otherwise I would blog about scrapbooking and shit and I don't even scrapbook.
My kids are great, well behaved and good at football. They are just now teens and aren't into drugs are running around. BUT, half the time they smell like wet dogs, the younger ones eat way too much junk food, I have to tell them 3 to 15 times to clean up after themselves (most of the time in a gently louder voice.) I have to intervene many times a day before they kill each other. And all four of them attract dirt like crap attracts flies.
I just thought of this today when I wasn't asking a question and this girl answered me, I said something one day about my son being a good boy and her son was better and walks on water and can fly and shit at the same time.
I don't have to prove shit, I'm human. But...being human means that I have accept her for how she is...after all she's human too.

Now, just how the hell do I break the news to her that she is human?

Monday, October 15, 2007


What a nice surprise. I received the Rising Blogger Award. missy A sent me a message and showed me. Thanks to whoever nominated me. It makes it worth it to know people do care about what you write. If you have been reading for awhile then you know I recently had drama on this forum. It kind of gave me a blockage for writing but it came back. I can take constuctive criticism but not downright accusations of who I am. I think anyone that reads me knows who I am....well kind of anyway. And it is so nice to be noticed for who I am via my writing. Once again....thanks.

Saturday, October 13, 2007

American or Anti---either way.

How do you find that balance between being a Lakota and an American? Many other tribes have lost their identity and don't realize there is a dinstinction.
There is.
To me, anyway.
I know everyone thinks...oh this is the melting pot. We are all American. But what those people don't understand is that there is a difference.
It doesn't mean I am anti-American. I am a proud American, but first I am Lakota.
This guy I know told me stop the blame and name game.. he wasn't talking to me particularly. He was talking about indians. He meant we have to quit blaming the whiteman for our lives being hard and shit.
I don't blame the whiteman anymore than I blame myself or ourselves.
We are a poor people living in poor conditions.
Once we stop living off the government like a nursing baby, we can better ourselves.
I just don't see it happening.
We are a nation, given this dried up land to live on by the government that controls us like slaves.
I can relate to Palenstine...but we don't fight like them anymore. We just sit home and get lease checks from ranchers who have their cows on our land.
We wait for aid on the first of the month. We wait for commodities every month. Food sent to us that is the cause for diabetes.
It feels like a never ending cycle of bullshit that I am sick of.
They say God helps those who helps themselves. How will that ever happen when the government keeps you poor and you let them.
I am a proud Lakota and love being Lakota, but i am sick of this lifestyle and I haven't been back for a year yet.
Am I a proud American? I think so. But in a different way than most everyone else. i am proud to be from a land that has so much freedom, but I don't stand and wave the flag at a parade with other people cheering on soldiers who are killing civilians in their own land for a war I don't believe in. That is all too familar sounding, if you know what I mean. I am not the typical American. I am Lakota first.
I have many white friends too and I don't blame them for this life. I do blame the government and myself and my people.
We are our own nation...which is bullshit. We are a nation in distress.
Which is the meaning of the upside down flag.
So don't call me anti-American until you've danced in my mocassins.

Friday, October 12, 2007

A song and a story

So I thought I would do the same challenge Big Nederlander did because it looked fun and I love a challenge. So click here and read the story.

There was this man, who was always a man. even when he was a young boy he was a man. He lived in the rolling prairie with his grandparents and called them mom and dad. He grew up in a log cabin with no running water. He grew with his grandparents being devout Catholics, in the middle of the reservation. He never understood the balance they kept between being Lakota and Catholic. All he knew was, when he was struck by lightning at age 7, it had to mean something special to him. He ran in the hills he loved and lived in. His grandparents babied him. Letting him bring home injured animals. He had pet deer and raccoons growing up. He never understood why he looked so different from his family. He was shorter and darker and had different features. He never questioned it either. When he learned the truth, that his real father was in the Air Force, a Filipino, married, and never knew about him and his mother, instead of living with the shame of a love child at seventeen, left her firstborn with her parents while she traveled the world as an Air Force wife...he brushed away the reason why he was born. And he ran.

And ran.

It was his passion. When he went to school he ran for the cross country team. Many times he brought home medals. His grandma proudly saved every medal and ribbon.

At age seventeen he fell in love. She was the most beautiful girl in high school and she loved him back. When she was pregnant with their first child he knew this was his future.

He married her after they had their daughter. And then they had a son. And then one day a few years later she left him. He came home and she was gone with his 2 children.

His youth and temper landed him in trouble and he did his time.

Then, he was done with his time and was struck by lightning again.

That is when he knew he had to grow up and find himself in his Lakota religion. He began to sundance every summer. The 4 days in the hot sun with no water and food was hard but it was the sacrifice he paid for his children and his people.

Dreams of lightning and thunder continued to haunt him as he rode his Harley through the prairie.

One Christmas Day, in his 50's, he had a stroke. He told no one of it. He didn't go to the doctor. He stayed home and prayed. He prayed for his children and grandchildren. He prayed for his people. He knew someday he would not be here for the 4 children he didn't raise. 3 daughters and one son. And all their children.

He gave away all things that meant something to him. He gave his medals and ribbons and old pictures to his 2 oldest children. He gave them copies of his will. He gave them things they needed.

He gave them their religion. Through himself. He gave them back the ways of the people.

Because he knew one day, he wouldn't be there for them.

But he prayed they would carry on the ways when he was gone. And he hoped everything he did for them, would someday mean something to them.

He doesn't know...that it already does.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Spunk and a turtle's neck.

Wow, so much has happened this year. Last year blogging was a significant part of my life. This year it seems not much so and I don't know if that is a good thing or not. Does it mean I am outgrowing it? I don't know. I took a break because it started to feel like a job. But it still feels the same. I don't know maybe I just need to be more sporadic. I thought I was! lol! Maybe it was just the locals driving me crazy but for the one chickenshit that says stuff in hiding I have so many people that come up to me and tell me they love it. My Uncle Ramone said his sister looks forward to it every week. And when I don't write she asks why. So I guess it's in my blood and heart like my mentor Tim said.
And like he also said "A turtle can'tmove forward unless it sticks it's neck out."
I hardly have a neck, but it is sticking out as far as I can. I just need my spunk back. Did anyone see my spunk or have any to spare?

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

The Life I live

I sure and a hell hope that my editor took this blogsite off of my bio info. I don't mind people reading me or criticism even but I don't like people saying I am not who I am. If anything I am not fake.
I have no reason to be fake. If I was going to be fake, i would pretend to be a broke mofo.
I was walking with my kids the other day, been trying to do that more to lose weight. Walking gives you so much time to think.
so while walking i was thinking about my life.
My kids were walking with me and I thought about how this isn't even about me.
i mean, sure this is my life and I am here. I need to be happy, but this life i live is about the lives i gave. I have 4 children I need to make happy as long as they are under my care and one day they will grow to be adults.
As long as my kids grow up to be good people, i know I will have done my job.
So here I am starting to walk and trying to be healthy for them. This life i live is for my children. God I hope I never lose that perspective again.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

did you ever give thanks for everything that seems like nothing

It was raining so hard after dinner. You could hear the rain through all the other hoopla going on.

I made blackened pork chop chili and the whole house smelled like chili.

I put this song on the computer and turned it up.

I grabbed my cat Mischa, lay on the couch and held him while he purred.

Now I could hear college football, kids running and screaming, Mischa purring, Tupelo Honey be Van Morrison, and the rain along with soft thunder.

I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer to give thanks for everything in life that I have right at that moment.

I am blessed.

Friday, October 5, 2007

I AM Lakota

I am Lakota.

That is who I am.

I was asked if I even knew what it meant to be Lakota, since I am only half and not a full blood.

Lakota is in my blood. Being Lakota has given me the pride and spirit I have been searching for all my life. I can finally say I am Lakota and Proud.

I admit, it is a hard life but only if you concentrate on the negative and I try not to.

I don't think that just because the government can keep track of how much blood of mine is actually Lakota with registered paperwork and by stamping a number on me can define exactly how much Lakota I am. For even though, I have French blood and Filipino blood in my veins, I am Lakota. I was born and raised Lakota. I was taught the Lakota ways...ways that I wished in my youth I hadn't been so hasty and stubborn to push away.

Being Lakota means to be brave, disciplined, and courageous while living humbly and low to the ground.

Bring Lakota is to be patient and tolerant, respectful and compassionate. You must live your life with understanding of others and be generous.

Lakota's accept each other, they don't want and wish for each other to fall or fail.

There are seven sacred laws of the Lakota Way of Life and this is how we live. In these ways that our ours there is no room for greed, or dis-respect. I don't think that my blood quantum can show you how much Lakota I really am.

For it is in my heart, in my soul, in my spirit and I live my life being Lakota every single day.

And it is a beautiful life.

(This is in response to some criticism questioning how much Lakota I really am.)