Random Thoughts With Frankie

If we could go back and do things differently in our life, we would do things the exact same way we did them.

It would be nice if other people in our life had done some things differently though.

But then, who knows, if they had done things differently, if we would have ever done the things we've done.

And the world keeps turning...

Semicolons

You're right, we didn't do a blog post tonight.

We're collectively becoming obsessed with semicolons though. Pretty sure we're not using them right; but also sure most people don't even know the difference. Not even sure we do.

And, suddenly I have some feelings; it's new, and nothing good will come of that.

I really hate us.

xx,
~ Melody

Bloody Devil Mistress: A Poem

It's been awhile, a poem in full from us. Bits and pieces, 140 characters, or less, at a time we managed to cobble together something new this week.

The muse has been yanking our hair at an increasing pace these days, so there is hope for more. We'll see.

We've been writing poetry for...so many years; since we were at least 14. So...oh, fuck, almost 20 years. All inspired by life events, feeling, emotions, desires, thoughts. As poetry should be. Most of the themes have not changed in all that time. We'd like to think the writing has become better though.

So, our newest...

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Bloody Devil Mistress

There will never be enough years,
when every day we are his.
Separating this skin,
pulled from the bone,
worn down,
sin by intoxicating sin.

Fires lick at our feet;
we rush, in haste,
mistress to his desire.
Head to pillow falls,
sleeping to the sounds,
of a lusting demon choir.

Our muse may be the Devil;
sins bringing a blush to our cheeks.
There's no use in escaping him,
we'd be chewing restraints for weeks.

Heart brimmed with pain,
and a head full of chains;
yet, still nothing remains.

A vile gnarled ugly thing,
whence twisted rope we'll swing;
while the Devil dances,
splashing in our blood,
and Hell's angels chant and sing.

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For more of our poetry: http://ourlifepoetic.blogspot.com/

Back To A Life Unplanned

Saturday we got our official acceptance letter from the University we applied for. They have all our transcripts from all our other Colleges and Universities and are re-admitting us to their's.
So, it's officially official.

In typical form we already have our classes chosen for our first new Semester. The minute we got the letter with the information we were logging into the University website, and copying over the list of classes we knew we had to to take, and wanted to take, that we had in a spreadsheet, to our account planner. Then picking the first ones to take in the Fall. Classes start the end of August for our first semester. Sometimes we're a giant geek.

When all our credits from various Universities, and Culinary School, got transferred we actually came out on top of the 125 credit requirement for a Bachelor Degree, however...we still have GERs (General Education Requirements - basic modules of study that the University requires in order to grant one a degree) to complete; 12 Science, Math and Tech (with at least 4 of Lab time) credits to fulfill [ICK], 3 credits of English, and 3 credits of World Cultures. Plus 36 credits of Upper Level (300-400) courses. Of course we'll have to meet with our advisor to make double sure...but it does seem right.

Dang. We were so close to having only a year left. We're going back to finish our Degree in Communication, and initially thought we would had three years left anyway, because of the uncertainty of how the credits from the three and a half years at other institutions would transfer, so...*shrugs*. If we pursue the minor in Visual Arts that we want (which we only need 12 additional specific credits for)...well, it's going to take three years.

What else is there to do though, really. The job market is slim without a 4 year degree under your belt, no matter how much work, life and educational experience one has; and because of our back problems our Culinary education is only so handy, not to mention the restaurants in this area pay minimum wage, and we can't justify the pain involved for minimum wage.

Rather than make too much of a long-term plan about what to do after three years and a shiny new degree, we've resolved with James to make a plan, to make a plan...in two and a half. Experience dictates that planning doesn't pan out well, and leads to disappointment and stress. Though there will VERT highly likely be a move involved, since none of us are thrilled with our current geographical location.

In the meantime, back to a life unplanned.
It feels comfortable here.

Triggered: A Short Story of Anxiety

We bought a new-used Toyota 4Runner a couple of weeks ago. It was the make and model of the vehicle we were in during our car accident in '04 (just a few years newer, it's a '96). Despite the vehicle not having air-bags at the time of the accident, we survived the 75 mph semi-truck collision that night. Crumbled and broken, both the car, us and our driver, it was almost a miracle.

So naturally, having to travel almost 40 miles to and from our new house at the end of the month; particularly if we find a job, and when we start University in the fall; and for the next few years, on the same interstate where the accident took place, we thought the safest thing we could do, mentally, is have a vehicle we trust.

That was all good, until today, driving to the gym, when we gently applied our foot to the brake to turn the corner into the parking lot, at a low speed, and the ABS (Anti-lock braking system) kicked in, and the car wouldn't stop. Or maybe it didn't kick in. We're not even sure how ABS works, exactly. According to James there is an error in the programming of the third generation Toyota ABS. So, that's nice.

If you've ever experienced a braking system on ice, when it's not working properly (or maybe it is, but braking shouldn't feel like that) it sort of jerks, feels like it's shaking across the pavement. It's not stopping.

And it triggers us into a panic, even though we weren't going very fast. We had forgotten that particular feeling of the car accident. Suddenly we're staring at a giant wall of metal, and closing our eyes, holding back a scream. So. Fun.

It's almost like passing semi-trucks on the interstate, or any time we're not driving. Being a passenger makes us nervous, and so does having a passenger if we're driving.. It's not that we don't trust our driver. We don't trust anybody around us in a vehicle. And the bigger the vehicle, the most stressed and anxious we feel. If we're driving passing a truck, our knuckles are white, we're intensely focused, and our head is pounding to the beat of our heart. It's actually a very unsafe way to react. We know that. yet, we have a hard time controlling it.

In any case. Fun times.

In house hunting news: Tonight we sign our half of the paperwork on the Purchase Agreement. It's the home-stretch.