What is Romance???

I have no f*ckin idea...seriously. I am not being bitter...I really wish I knew...was it when my first boyfriend bought me dimestore earrings like Molly Ringwald's in Sixteen Candles??? Or was it when that boy in 1st grade kissed me on the cheek and told me he would marry me?? I really don't know. I wished I did.
I don't like crying around...I don't like pity...I don't like people thinking I need someone to make me happy because other than Derek Jeter, Joey Porter, Gilbert Arenas, Danny Zuko, Jake Ryan, or Jay Gatsby...or Robert Redford...oh and that guy Detective Elliot Stabler from Law & Order SVU...any of those guys can make me happy but I just ended an 8 month relationship the other day with a guy who promised me EVERYTHING but couldn't fulfill that promise to himself even...I never ask for everything...I don't even want anything...truthfully it would be nice to know WTF romance is? I feel at fault for always rushing into things....even after staying single for so long I felt like I had my detectors out...I was cautious...but I was duped...and it wasn't the first time. I am getting to the point where I think that i am like my grandma...bitter and mean...soon I will be old. I had a life, I had kids, I enjoyed many many times in my life but I fear I will never know what romance is. I have friends that fell in love at age 15, 16 and 17 and are still together and happy (looking.) I have friends that married in a vineyard and are still in love the same as that day...
I am happy being single...and I wonder if that is my destiny? I have seen people in relationships...controlling relationships only worried about being in love...or not even love...all they care about is not being alone. I love being alone with my kids...but i wonder sometimes...if someday they will be gone and it will just be me. Will that be so bad to never know what romance is? I can easily imagine being Meg Ryan to Tom Hanks...or Sanaa Lathan to Omar Epps, or Liz Taylor to Richard Burton...or even Julia Roberts to Dermott Mulroney?
I have accepted being single with glee...with pride even because in all truth I would rather be single than be with someone who will lie to me...but why do I attract liars? Even when I am cautious? Why are some people so selfish?
When I enter a relationship I enter it with all the determination that it will be my last...that is more than likely my fault....maybe I just need to not. I had a good six year break before I even put my foot in the water and still attracted someone who couldn't even meet me halfway in a relationship,...could not understand that my children are first in my life...could not be happy for me when i got my job with the newspaper and instead tried to make me feel guilty..."oh i don't blog anymore because people don't read me like they read your fluff"...I try, i am not perfect but I try. I don't need anyone to take care of me and at the same time I don't need to take care of anyone...I have children i do that for already. sorry for ranting here, but I need to get some sh*t out...I am sick of this. Derek, take me away.Let me end this on a happy note..I may not know what romance is...and you may. But the two things I have experienced in my life:
ONE: I once was talking to an ex from high school about a girl we went to HS with...I was like "she was so beautiful and everyone was mad she ended up with a guy that was a weirdo back then, but he is so good to her and she has a perfect family life now...I wish I married what I considered a freak back then, maybe I would be happy now"...he was like..."Naw...you are too strong of a woman, you dot need ANYONE taking care of you." Yeah i felt good considering I once thought i would marry this boy who said this, but then I was like still...I want to know what romance is.
TWO: A DAY IN MY LIFE...December 31, 2005- 11:57 pm. I was partying for the last 2 hours wth my best friend. We was at a bar...we had the stupid little hats and whistles and all that junk. He came down to spend the New Year's with me...we had some beers and about this time the owner of the local Po dunk bar started handing out free champagne...soon the countdown started...
As the year turned to 2006 I had the most wonderful, wonderful kiss in my life. I felt for that minute or two like the woman in that World War II pic where she kissed the soldier in Times Square...I felt like her...is that romance?
If it is...I can die happy...lol

Beauty is spirit deep

*Pic is of my son and his skateboard*

My mom told me something on the same night that my stepdad died. The doctor had let her and my little brother, age 15, and my two little sisters, ages 12 and 13, go in and say good bye to him. My mom had a hard enough time herself, but also she had to comfort them. She said his hand fell to the side and she put it back up because in life he didn't like his hand hanging off the bed. When she touched him to put his hand back, she told me he was still soft and warm. It was at this point she realized how much our bodies are shells.

She said we go through our whole lives in this shell when really the spirit of a person is what makes that person who they are. In death when that spirit leaves the body, all that is left is that shell that was occupied by that spirit.

The whole essence of who someone is, is their spirit. It is what makes someone wonderful, giving, and beautiful.

Too bad nobody ever judges anybody by how beautiful their spirit is, because really that is who they are.

24 hours on the Rez (360 repost)

I convince Myk yesterday to go for a drive with me, plus we have to dump trash. I tell him that sometimes the light is just right and the rez is so pretty then. The sun is behind the clouds as we drive out west to Slim Buttes







Here is the my hometown of Pine Ridge from Slim Buttes. We used to party out here when I was a teenager at a spot called "The Satellites." For the life of me I can't find them, they must not exist anymore.







The light was never right, so I just took a pic of the sky.







I was able to get some shadows, but it was at the dump. *sigh*







Myk took this pic, he thinks the 2 signs are funny. You can only go 35 for one spin of the wheels you know.







So we go home, everything is fine. Then at 1:30 in the morning there is a weird light reflecting on our wall. We get up because it looks like sirens. We see cops. Of course everyone wakes up because we're up. There is an abandoned trailer behind my next door neighbor's house and it is on fire.





This is like 20 minutes later, four cops are just sitting there watching it. I get scared, there is a propane tank nearby and wires and tumbleweeds that could start on fire and blow into my yard. We could all blow up!











I keep calling the dispatch at the police station, they say they are trying to locate the fire men???? WTF??? So anyway they show up 40 minutes later and it takes them a while to put it out. I can't sleep so I lurk for a bit. I keep thinking, what if someone lived there?



Today I decide to go for a walk. There is a track just north of town especially for walking. I have a feeling the light will be that amber color I love so I take the cam.



Here is the result.



I took all pictures of dead, old, weeds, in an attempt to make them pretty. Oh, and a dead tree also.









A lady once told me that the plant people were the strongest of all people, because no matter how hard their life is-was, whether or not thay prospered, and even in death, they stand in prayer....with their head bowed. (I like to think of that before I stomp them. Just teasing Janet!) I hope these weeds everyone hates look a little better, but of course everything does in the sunset.

Speaking of...



I caught the sunset...and the light I wanted

You can see why it is called Pine Ridge here...

going...

going...

gone!!

Hell yeah, this is where I am from!

WARNING: the following blog caused some controversy with a narrow minded dipshit and his followers on Yahoo 360....according to him i am crying around about my people and not doing anything to advance them. While I truly believe that his working at Cinnabon at the local mall will advance whoever he says he is...I also believe in honoring the past....after all, should not my children know who they are, where they come from and what they survived? I know people back at the old blog say forget about it...move on already, but that is exactly what this blog is about...."Not Forgetting...yet MOVING ON" I will not live in the past...how can I? But I will not forget it nor will I let it victimize me, I do believe we should not forget it...after all ,,,almost every holiday we have is....in some way honoring some sort of some one's past....if you are insulted...oh well,if you hate it let me know in the comment section...if you blog about me don't send your little peons to tell me I disappointed you because that is just digusting. Anyway I am only blogging here now because all is unfair in blogs and war...and really I love it here. (maaan)

<em>I blogged about this before.

I don't expect comments...as it makes people uncomfortable. I don't expect anyone to read it when they see it is a "serious" blog. I blog this for me and my children. To have it in print and to look back on. Please remember this blog is for my purposes, not a guilt trip to anyone who is proud of who they are. After all, isn't that what we should all be....proud of who we are?

116 years ago was what the U.S. 7th Calvary called the last Battle of the Sioux. It was a massacre. Even though Chief Big Foot and his people surrendered to the U.S. Government, the Calvary open fired when an eagle bone whistle was sounded by a medicine man reminding his people of the Ghost Dance Shirts they had believed to protect them from the soldiers bullets.

146 men,women, and children were killed. They only wanted to dance.

This site is about half hour from where I live and tomorrow the The Big Foot Memorial Ride will be riding in to Wounded Knee to commemorate this. The Ghost Riders. I found a video on youtube explaining more if you wish to watch it, it is ten minutes long.

After watching this you can understand how my people believe that they have been fighting terrorism for 500 years. That terrorism started here and continues here. You can understand, maybe, how we still carry this pain and hurt with us. We teach all the wrong that was done to us to the next generation, we pass on the knowledge of the wrongs, of the hurt, and of the pride that should have been lost. I have yet to meet a youth, elder, or peer that doesn't know this story here. But still we pass it on because it is embedded in our DNA. We can't forget.

It hurts me when ignorance surfaces and I am told that "this was the past....forget about it,already." After all I would never, ever tell anyone that about the Holocaust, Pearl Harbor, Hiroshima, or 9/11. From the beginning, the genocide of the Native People of America was never counted...ever. So no one knows how many were actually "killed off", there is no number.

Yes, like many people of many different lands, our lands were taken. We were placed on reservations of the worst part of any state. Unresourceful and unable to farm. Children taken to boarding schools, away from families and forced to try to forget their culture. Men unable to roam and hunt to provide for their family. Yet no jobs available.

Think about that the next time you hear someone bitch about Indians being able to own casinos, or Indians not paying taxes. (Which is false.) I am not asking for a guilt trip or trying to piss anyone off, I am just saying...think about that.

We know what we used to have, but we never knew the glory of it.

That pain lives with us, and we can't "forget about it."

Another free form blog, ramble...mumble....snore...

photo a handbag i beaded for christmas for my mom
I get so tired of "having" to write correctly....I know how to spell, I type horribly...I puncuate poorly but I really don't care, if i get to far into the subject I think SO F*ckin what! Why the hell do I have to put a , here when really it should be a .? Wht do commas matter anyway and if I overuse the whole...3 dot thingy...so what?
I am writing in my blog not a midterm report for the Congressional Student Organization of the Miniature United Nations of The Free World of the United states Of the Republic of Lillyputt.
Point is ...I am sick of writing shit, checking it on word to make sure I didn't underspace or overspace...screw that....ooops i forgot to capitalize Word.
Anyway this whole bloggy is about blogs. I love bloggging. I feel the need to. I am loving it more and more here on blogspot....
I am so sick of 360...sorry to offend any 360 friends, but really there is so much stupid ass drama there and "perfect" people who think in f*cked up ways...."Oh you don't comment enough...I am going to delete your ass unless you comment soon" or "oh yoru blog about being real fuck you who do you think i am? jesus if people don't like my blogs don't read them, don't comment on them, and certainly don't do a blog about a blog of mine that you hate. I know David Duke...oh wait Carter Garza shock jock of 360 Mister Up aLL night who has his own talk show (on a blog) wasn't the only one who did blogs regarding my blogs and i don't understand it...why read my blog? if you hate it?
why blog about it?
I am slowly pulling away from 360 i love the fact that I met so many many great people there, but like a girl that used to be on my friends list who shut her whole blog down...said ..there is no freedom there, and it is true....
I almost feel like any move I make on 360 is being watched....it is being criticized it is like I know some girl whom I deleted then did a blast about me and how I fucked her over last year in that stupid ass survivor shit. Survivor was for fun...then it started and my computer blew up....anytime I had the money to get it fixed a bill showed up or something else...like I had to feed my kids. Now almost a whole year later she wants to blast about me starting something virtually and not finishing it???? I did ask her to help...she jumped at it! I had 16 contests planned out in a secret blog out of all those 16 she used one....and created her own long ass ones after that that turned some people off...i apologized over and over she said quit...then I drop her from my list over private words we had over a friend in common (David Duke) she goes and publicly blasts now about that stupid game??? that is another reason I hate 360...i know she don't have kids...she has no idea that sometimes they get hungry....if it was my choice my computer wouldn't have blown up....I have lost all passion for 360 if it wasn't for a few close friends i would not blog there.
This is what I like about blogspot.....the page is not complicated....while I grew comfortable @ 360 blogspot is like a home....so I don't get as many comments here, or my page views arenot counted but I can be me here...without having to worry about some shock jock wannabe and his sidekick putting me down or anyone else putting me down. there is a respect here that is so mature that i now am here to stay. So 360 friends...you may know who I am talking about, they may still be on your list but I don't think I will be posting there for awhile...I don't feel comfortable there anymore. I don't feel welcome...cripes I couldn't even post this there....but I am the same person, I still embrace all that is sacred to me, I am just sick of getting attacked for it and none of you would ever know what it was like unless you been there. For real.
It's easy to say don't let idiots chase you away and i didn't, but for me to stay there and not feel comfortable is another thing. I feel comefortable here with my average 2 comments per blog because I can be me...

Chronicles of a Girl Part III

pic of my son by my sister Jaida, blog written in free form so don't message me and tell me where all the mistakes are because i don't care,

life goes by so fast, it don't feel like that when you are 17 and just want to be on your own, an adult, it feels as if it moves like syrup and maybe it does, but once you turn slightly you can look back and see the traces and tracks of all that once was, i don't see it in 8mm movie form like i want to instead i see it as if someone is throwing polaroids down in front of me...i want to pick them up and look closely and remember that exact moment, remember the warm, the smells, the taste of my life...but whoever is throwing these polaroids down flicks them faster and faster and there are more and more and i catch mere glimpses of what i did, things i saw when everything was so big to me to things i seen later when my children were so small...those polaroids are still flipping and this is a mere smidgen, a few polaroids, of only a few of the things in the life of this girl you think you know...( but you don't)

Age Two, who is that fat baby with an onion head, why do I have to call him brother, if they keep taking my picture when I am nice to him I will be nice to him. mother always crying, father never home, anymore. i make ashtrays made of mud for my mother so she won't cry but it makes her cry more, the simple act of blowing dandelion seeds off into the wind like little parachutes makes me happy

Age 6

looking out windows, barely peeking over the top. Seeing the plains ride by me the day we left my father to a new life. Finding the city fascinating to live in because the reality of it all hit. how do i make friends here? Being hungry as my mom started college, worked and disco-ed in her youth. The youth that was halted by my appearance at the edge of seventeen found her again

More flashes

Age 8

moving to the reservation, living in the country, chickens, rabbits, dogs, and a pair of geese I let free in the moonlight. Week long visits to my paternal greatgrandparents in the summer, hollering at Great Grandpa Frank's fading hearing, finding little things for Great Grandma's fading eyesight and wondering what she meant, not know she was slowly losing her memory. grandpa takes me to dig timpsila's (prairie turnips) and teaches me to braid them

Age 10

flashes of being introduced to the lakota religion and wondering where i fit this with my friends who go to church, i decide not to try and fit the pieces together, just go with the flow. mother gets married, seems happy we find a place to live and move out of grandma's basement, i take long walks and pretend i can control the wind with my mind, make up stories to keep me happy

age 15

i lose myself...i don't know what i am looking for...what do i want... what is expected of me ...all i do is draw and write poetry to make me happy

age 19 i give my whole life over to a man, i only want him to be happy i never seen what i see now he never tried to make me happy, flashes of worry, wonder and love...sweet love and too many "fake" holidays

age 23 mother of two boys i stare at for hours and am amazed they are of me. they roll around like baby lions, never knowing how i turned their lives upside down by moving so much in their young lives...they just continue to run, and roll like baby lions and i am the mother, protective, watching them while i bead and work too many jobs i hate to buy them things... the simple joy of driving over a bridge so they can say "My See The Water!" makes their day...and mine...where the hell did those days go???

age 26

flashes of working long hours, partying with friends...going to salsa night on our days off...lighting that old flame and then...BAM...here comes a third boy, born angry screaming and peeking at me with huge eyes, i knew he was a boy the whole time, the little boy that reunited his parents for 3 years, the little boy that never really knew his father, the little boy that has so much passion, surely it will flow over

Age 32

so many moves, so much starting over, point a to point b, point c to point f (which is right?) i am so sick of moving, of thinking this is the last time and yet rushed romance finds me pregnant, alone with 3 beautiful boys and living somewhere where i know no one. i knew i was in labor, it always starts with a dull backache then she came on a winter day i was all alone except for two nurses and one doctor who really did nothing...i felt so powerful i bet i could have done it alone but i felt alone anyway until they told me she was a girl i opened my eyes and tears poured out, she was so beautiful, even as she glared at me for the rough ride out of her comfortable domain

almost 35 i know i wouldn't have done things any other way but...

i still wonder who the hell i am?

hn

The Road

I started on this road, I guess when I was born.
Back then I was on cruise control, and just figured...yeah life is cool. My parents are ok to a point...they make good money where I am from and I grew up basically middle class.
Somewhere into adulthood I took a right when I was supposed to make a left and went down the dirt road full os bumps and bruises.
How the fuck did I end up here??
I was a 4.0 homecoming queen and now I am here?
I was a spolied little brat that wore $80 jeans and $75 dollars shoes???
Who the hell was I back then?
Granted, I babysat and cleaned for those clothes, but WTF?
Back then, on cruise control, I kind of thought life already had a plan for me. I thought the days of shoes and jeans would always be there.
Now going on that bumpy dirt road with my four kids in tow....do I miss those days?
Would I trade everything I have right now in for the days of cruise control, material shit, and every 45 I could get my hand on?
No.
Well I wouldn't mind the 45's again, if I could get my hands on a turntable....but no.
I am glad life wasn't handed to me, even if it would have been easier.
I lived.

Back in the day ...when I was 17, I had a summer love, that went well into the fall...

Does a song ever give you a moment in your life back. I heard this the other day and it reminded me of those carefree days when my boyfriend went to the rival high school. Our biggest worry back in those days was who had a better school.

The days when we rode his motorcycle until my legs were numb from the cold, the days of him picking me up at the high school and having dinner with his mom and the days when we rode in his pick up with the windows down singing to the radio. The days when cruising was everything and sex was quick, hurried, forbidden....and the best.

We had no fear of the future, and the utmost confidence that everything would be alright. We had been holding hands since headstart, saying we would marry, even at age four, I knew he would be my husband. He was the most easygoing boy and I knew we would marry. I had no doubt about it.

Then we broke apart, went our own ways.

We always meant to talk things over but we found others in jealous fury...all the while still talking, because we still loved each other.

We promised to talk...

Then one morning I woke up and heard, he shot and killed himself the night before at age 17.

I wondered where those days of cruising and singing along went.

Afternoon Nap (360 repost)

Afternoon Nap
I was floating, like flying. I was going faster, like something was pulling me. I could see the tops of the roofs in all different shades of brick-- buildings. I wanted to be on them, so I floated down and began to run over them, like free running, thats when I noticed I was barefoot. Then I knew, had I had shoes on, I wouldn't be able to fly. The buildings began to get smaller, so I floated up again and changed direction. I saw an empty lot and knew that was my destination. This is where I came down. Still barefoot, in a strange city, quickly I began to read signs and take in the sights and sounds. I didn't even know if they spoke English here. Lyle's Deli, Moretti's Pizza, Chimes Clock and Watch shop, some sort of pawn shop, I couldn't make it out.. There was also an old theater that was converted into like a cine-plex. The sign was lit up, red and white, featuring matinees. People were rushing all over. I felt so alone, with no shoes. There was some delivery men outside of a used furniture shop hauling stuff in, glaring at me. A lady waved me over from inside of the shop. She asked me what I was doing and showed me the section where they had used clothing. The only shoes that fit were some funky, metallic, gold sandals, but I gladly put them on. I told her I was here to search for my mom and son. Which I knew was true, but did not know it till the moment I spoke these words. She hurriedly gave me a small wallet and told me to go get something to eat. I told her thanks and I will be back to pay her back and left....I walked out, in bright sunlight, and looked around to decide which direction to go....

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! "OPEN THE DOOR!" It was my mother in law at the door, drunk, screaming around. The most vivid and detailed dream I had in... forever and she ruined it. I didn't open the door for her today.

Passion of the Sport (360 repost)

I am a sports junkie. I love ESPN! When I hear da-da-da da-da-da I go running to the tv and savor the sweet notes of da-da-da da-da-da. Sportscenter!

I am unathletic as hell. I was picked last in gym class for EVERYTHING! I was the always centerfield in whiffleball because I wasn't trusted. I was the scorekeeper for as many games as I could get away with it for. I was a nerd....the nerd. I hated gym, most of the time if it wasn't for health class I wouldn't have passed. I have a competitive edge in all things not physical. I could and did kick ass at fantasy football....sorry guys I had to rub that in your faces just one more time. I will again this year.

Anyway, I think the lack of any sporty skills whatsoever has brought out this athletic prowess in me. I love sports. Almost all sports. If I don't watch it, it is because I don't understand. Believe me I will get to it, though one day. Sometimes people will ask me why I watch certain sports....like last night i had this discussion with my aunt. Here are some reasons.

Football: I will never forget when the Vikings looked like they were going all the way and got beat by the Giants like 40 to nothing or some kind of score like that. I will never forget Leon Lett when he tried to showboat into the endzone and got the ball knocked out of his hands. I will never forget the Cowboys when Emmit and Troy and Michael were youngsters. I will never forget when Brett Favre played that game after the death of his dad and seemed like he had angels on his side.

Tennis: When you see the awesome Williams sisters play each other for the Wimbledon championship and Venus tells Serena....oh your trophy will look good in the case next to my two and they laugh about it. Or when Venus won her first one and her dad held the sign up. Or Andre Agassi and Sampras battling it out in a tie breaker...in a match that seemed like it was hours. I had to watch tennis to understand it, the point system....so to some people it looks boring. These players work their asses off though, just to get one point up there. So much passion in this sport it is never boring.

Golf: When you see Tiger Woods win his first Masters.....or watch a close game with the whole outcome depending on just one putt. No one will breathe just because it all depends on whether that ball goes in the hole or not.....yes I don't completely understand golf but I watch it. I watched some good ones too. I like Vijay Singh. There is so much passion in this sport it is never boring.

Boxing: Ah... The Contender really brought this sport back to me. If you never watched this show you need to. Yes we all know it is edited and they show only the best part of the bouts, god I wished they could do that with all boxing. I love boxing...my grandpa was an awesome amatuer boxer and so were my uncles. I have been going to smokers and boxing matches since I was a kid. What a beautiful sport. There is so much more to it than guys beathing each other....there is strategy involved and you can see it in their faces. The reason why The Contender brought this sport back to me is because in this day and age everything is pay-per-view. I can't afford that. I remember my mom buying some Tyson fights that never went past the first round. I also remember the ol school of boxing. I remember watching Ali , Sugar Ray, Foreman, Boom Boom Mancini. I miss those days when pay-per-view didn't exist. There is so much passion in this sport , I love it!

Basketball: Two great moments I will never forget. When Jordan won it on Father's Day.....after his dad died. And he had the flu, made the last game winning shot...I cried right along with him. I also will never forget the Fab Five, does anyone remember when Chris Weber called a timeout and there was none left??? OMG I will never forget that. So much passion in this sport...I love it!

Baseball: You knew I was going to go here. Of course I will never forget any of the World Series Championships I witnessed my Yankees win. I can't even count how many times I watched them comeback to win in the bottom of the 9th. But there are other moments I can't ever forget. Like Rickey henderson breaking the stolen base record. I cried. Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa having that outstanding year in 98. I cried, Cal ripken breaking Lou Gehrig's old record. I cried. The Red Sox FINALLY winning and breaking the curse,...yes I hate them but I admit I shed a tear for them that day. So Sorry George Steinbrenner but you know like they say on White Men Can't Jump...."Even the sun shines on a dog's ass someday." There is so much passion in this sport for me, it's my favorite. I love it!

Sports to me is a passion. I can't get enough sometimes. ESPN is like a godsent gift to fans. I like my chik flicks and nerdy movies, reality shows, cooking shows, and so on. But to me sports is always real, right there in your face, playing with your emotions, & never a rerun. (though ESPN Classics is great for reruns) Besides....it isn't the same to open a coldie and munch on some nachos to a chic flick.