P.Alan just tagged me. Now I have to list eight unknown facts about me or my past. I'm a little mad at him for it.
But don't worry, at the end, I get to spread the misery and pick eight people who will have to do the same thing. That makes me feel better.
I once met Bill Clinton. Shook his hand and everything. I bet he doesn't remember it.
From an early age, I've had premonitions. Never anything big or life-changing, but I have pre-seen several conversations and everyday things that happen years later exactly as I saw them. I can't control it and I don't consider myself psychic, but it happens about once every couple of years.
I have hyper-extended thumb knuckles.
I keep my fingernails cut very short. I can't stand for even a little white to show. I trim them every other day. If there is any white showing at the ends of my fingernails, I will compulsively chew on them until I can get to my clippers.
I can cook fried chicken that will make you slap your mammy. But the gravy is hit-or-miss.
I yell at my cats when I'm in a bad mood.
I'm a published poet.
Virtually every nightmare I've ever had has been about werewolves. But I love werewolf movies!
Okay, so now I get to tag eight people who will have to share eight facts about themselves. Of course, I am picking my "Inner Circle" -- Claire, Megan, Fred and Ben. But I also have to consider people that I think will play along...so I also pick Wine Fancy, Randy, Moose and Christopher. But I encourage everyone to participate. It's challenging, but kind of fun.
Oh, I'd also like to ask my Mama to play along. I've been trying to get her to start a blog, but she's being very stubborn about it. Perhaps y'all could send her a message to get her to do this??
And one more thing...please visit p.alan's other blog - to read his eight facts and to leave him lots of comments!!
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Monday, June 4, 2007
I *HATE* Rabbits
I was almost killed by a rabbit once. I hate them. They are evil little creatures.
To this day, when I am walking thru Big Lots, I cannot force myself to walk down the aisle with the Easter Bunny figurines. I was there the other day with Allan. We got to the Easter Bunny aisle. I started to take a step, but before my foot could even touch the floor, I saw the fucking things...lined up and staring at me. "Nope!" I said, as a chill instantly tensed up my shoulder muscles. I spun on my heel and went the other way. I found safety with the garden supplies. Crisis averted.
"Hey Tony!"
"Yes?"
"LOOK!"
There's Allan, holding a goddamned Easter Bunny right in my face. "UHHHH!" was all I could manage.
______________________________________________________________
My grandmother lived in Eastern Arkansas, where everything is flat, rural, wet and dirty. She owned a few hundred acres of land that was used to grow cotton, then soybeans. As she got old and I guess unwilling or unable to deal with the farmers that leased her land, she divided it up into 7 lots and gave one to each of her surviving children. My dad's plot runs right up alongside (or maybe even partly underneath) a big, nasty, swampy mud hole. I think it's called Hog Tuss Lake (we always called it Hog Wash Lake). The cypress are pretty, but that's the only positive thing I can say about it.
Several years ago, I went there with my Dad and my brother Tim. My Dad wanted to go so he could clear off his father's grave site. My brother and I were going to go hunting. (I wasn't gay yet.) We had Tim's dog Blue, a lovable but ignorant Blue Tick Hound. He really was a beautiful animal, but DUMB!
It must have been Fall, because I remember everything was brown, but it may have just been because everything in Lee County is dirty. Dad started hacking down the weeds, and Tim and I walked off into the woods, following the bank of the big dirty mud hole.
It wasn't long before Blue picked up the scent of something. He ran up to the stump of an old dead cypress tree, and stuck his nose into a cavity of the root ball. He was barking like a motherfucker, and out the other side of the stump loped the BIGGEST fucking rabbit I've ever seen. It was a swamp rabbit! It was almost as big as the dog! (And it was brown, like dirt!)
Tim started screaming, "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!", but I was just standing there thinking that's a big fucking rabbit!
I don't know why he didn't just shoot the thing...it was so big it could barely run. But instead, he gives ME the gun and tries to pull Blue away from the tree stump.
At first, it was going away from us, but made a hairpin turn and started right for us.
"SHOOT IT! SHOOT IT!"
It's running, no, jogging toward me. Tim is yelling at me. Blue still has his head buried in the hole in the tree.
I'm panicked.
The giant rabbit is coming right at me. I see it now in slow motion, the PTSD making every gruesome detail even worse than it surely ever was. Its giant brown teeth gnashing, strings of slobber flying as he lurched closer and closer to me. His blood red eyes fixed on me with the intent of disemboweling me.
I closed my eyes and fired one shot from the .22.
It's over.
I missed.
The rabbit lumbered into the woods. Tim, infuriated at the dog by this point, is still screaming at me. He managed to pull Blue away from the stump, but the dog kept going back and barking at the hole.
I didn't know how to clear the chamber to fire the gun again.
As we were walking back to the car, Dad saw us. "Hey! I only heard one shot, you musta got 'im!"
"No! Tony had the gun! He almost shot ME!"
"I'M SORRY!! It was coming RIGHT AT ME!"
I have not been back to Lee County for 25 years.
To this day, when I am walking thru Big Lots, I cannot force myself to walk down the aisle with the Easter Bunny figurines. I was there the other day with Allan. We got to the Easter Bunny aisle. I started to take a step, but before my foot could even touch the floor, I saw the fucking things...lined up and staring at me. "Nope!" I said, as a chill instantly tensed up my shoulder muscles. I spun on my heel and went the other way. I found safety with the garden supplies. Crisis averted.
"Hey Tony!"
"Yes?"
"LOOK!"
There's Allan, holding a goddamned Easter Bunny right in my face. "UHHHH!" was all I could manage.
______________________________________________________________
My grandmother lived in Eastern Arkansas, where everything is flat, rural, wet and dirty. She owned a few hundred acres of land that was used to grow cotton, then soybeans. As she got old and I guess unwilling or unable to deal with the farmers that leased her land, she divided it up into 7 lots and gave one to each of her surviving children. My dad's plot runs right up alongside (or maybe even partly underneath) a big, nasty, swampy mud hole. I think it's called Hog Tuss Lake (we always called it Hog Wash Lake). The cypress are pretty, but that's the only positive thing I can say about it.
Several years ago, I went there with my Dad and my brother Tim. My Dad wanted to go so he could clear off his father's grave site. My brother and I were going to go hunting. (I wasn't gay yet.) We had Tim's dog Blue, a lovable but ignorant Blue Tick Hound. He really was a beautiful animal, but DUMB!
It must have been Fall, because I remember everything was brown, but it may have just been because everything in Lee County is dirty. Dad started hacking down the weeds, and Tim and I walked off into the woods, following the bank of the big dirty mud hole.
It wasn't long before Blue picked up the scent of something. He ran up to the stump of an old dead cypress tree, and stuck his nose into a cavity of the root ball. He was barking like a motherfucker, and out the other side of the stump loped the BIGGEST fucking rabbit I've ever seen. It was a swamp rabbit! It was almost as big as the dog! (And it was brown, like dirt!)
Tim started screaming, "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!", but I was just standing there thinking that's a big fucking rabbit!
I don't know why he didn't just shoot the thing...it was so big it could barely run. But instead, he gives ME the gun and tries to pull Blue away from the tree stump.
At first, it was going away from us, but made a hairpin turn and started right for us.
"SHOOT IT! SHOOT IT!"
It's running, no, jogging toward me. Tim is yelling at me. Blue still has his head buried in the hole in the tree.
I'm panicked.
The giant rabbit is coming right at me. I see it now in slow motion, the PTSD making every gruesome detail even worse than it surely ever was. Its giant brown teeth gnashing, strings of slobber flying as he lurched closer and closer to me. His blood red eyes fixed on me with the intent of disemboweling me.
I closed my eyes and fired one shot from the .22.
It's over.
I missed.
The rabbit lumbered into the woods. Tim, infuriated at the dog by this point, is still screaming at me. He managed to pull Blue away from the stump, but the dog kept going back and barking at the hole.
I didn't know how to clear the chamber to fire the gun again.
As we were walking back to the car, Dad saw us. "Hey! I only heard one shot, you musta got 'im!"
"No! Tony had the gun! He almost shot ME!"
"I'M SORRY!! It was coming RIGHT AT ME!"
I have not been back to Lee County for 25 years.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Monday, January 8, 2007
Personal Bill of Rights
I have a right to cry.
I have a right to all my feelings.
I have a right to make mistakes.
I have a right to change my mind.
I have a right to change and grow.
I have a right to be my own judge.
I have a right to say, “I don’t know.”
I have a right to say, “I don’t care.”
I have a right to take time for myself.
I have a right to feel proud of myself.
I have a right to feel normal and healthy.
I have a right to have choices in my life.
I have a right to my joys and achievements.
I have a right to say, “I don’t understand.”
I have a right to be assertive and confident.
I have a right to be angry at someone I love.
I have a right to not have to please everyone.
I have a right to test the water before I jump.
I have a right to be noticed, valued and loved.
I have a right to notice, value and love others.
I have a right to set limits for myself and others.
I have a right to have disagreements and conflicts.
I have a right to be relaxed, playful and frivolous.
I have a right to be healthier than those around me.
I have a right to know that I am probably not guilty.
I have a right to ask for help, support, and guidance.
I have a right to not let others use or manipulate me.
I have a right to not have all the answers all the time.
I have a right to trusting, open and honest relationships.
I have a right to my own understanding of my higher power.
I have a right to be motivated by feelings other than fear.
I have a right to be a little selfish to take care of myself.
I have a right to refuse to feel guilty when others feel bad.
I have a right to refuse destructive criticism and namecalling.
I have a right to refuse to be loyal when loyalty is undeserved.
I have a right to attention, approval, appreciation, and affection.
I have a right to see things in a shade of grey, not black or white.
I have a right to live my own life and make my own dreams come true.
I have a right to live free from the fear of hurting someone’s feelings.
I have a right to my disappointments, fears, hurts, angers, and criticisms.
I have a right to refuse to allow someone else to assume responsibility for me.
I have a right to refuse to accept another person’s logic or thinking as my own.
I have a right to be independent of the goodwill of others before coping with them.
I have a right to refuse to assume responsibility for someone else, or his happiness.
I have a right to take care of myself, physically and emotionally, in any circumstance.
I have a right to say, “NO!” to anything when I feel that I am not ready or it is unsafe.
I have a right to my own opinions, and to their expression without forcing them on others.
I have a right to my actions, desires and goals, without explaining/justifying them to others.
I have a right to terminate conversations with people who make me feel put down or humiliated.
I do not have to read minds.
I do not have to fit everyone’s mold
I do not and cannot control the behavior or others.
I need not fear rejection from those who may not like or admire my behavior.
I do not have the ability to create mental stability, well-being or happiness for someone else.
I have a right to all my feelings.
I have a right to make mistakes.
I have a right to change my mind.
I have a right to change and grow.
I have a right to be my own judge.
I have a right to say, “I don’t know.”
I have a right to say, “I don’t care.”
I have a right to take time for myself.
I have a right to feel proud of myself.
I have a right to feel normal and healthy.
I have a right to have choices in my life.
I have a right to my joys and achievements.
I have a right to say, “I don’t understand.”
I have a right to be assertive and confident.
I have a right to be angry at someone I love.
I have a right to not have to please everyone.
I have a right to test the water before I jump.
I have a right to be noticed, valued and loved.
I have a right to notice, value and love others.
I have a right to set limits for myself and others.
I have a right to have disagreements and conflicts.
I have a right to be relaxed, playful and frivolous.
I have a right to be healthier than those around me.
I have a right to know that I am probably not guilty.
I have a right to ask for help, support, and guidance.
I have a right to not let others use or manipulate me.
I have a right to not have all the answers all the time.
I have a right to trusting, open and honest relationships.
I have a right to my own understanding of my higher power.
I have a right to be motivated by feelings other than fear.
I have a right to be a little selfish to take care of myself.
I have a right to refuse to feel guilty when others feel bad.
I have a right to refuse destructive criticism and namecalling.
I have a right to refuse to be loyal when loyalty is undeserved.
I have a right to attention, approval, appreciation, and affection.
I have a right to see things in a shade of grey, not black or white.
I have a right to live my own life and make my own dreams come true.
I have a right to live free from the fear of hurting someone’s feelings.
I have a right to my disappointments, fears, hurts, angers, and criticisms.
I have a right to refuse to allow someone else to assume responsibility for me.
I have a right to refuse to accept another person’s logic or thinking as my own.
I have a right to be independent of the goodwill of others before coping with them.
I have a right to refuse to assume responsibility for someone else, or his happiness.
I have a right to take care of myself, physically and emotionally, in any circumstance.
I have a right to say, “NO!” to anything when I feel that I am not ready or it is unsafe.
I have a right to my own opinions, and to their expression without forcing them on others.
I have a right to my actions, desires and goals, without explaining/justifying them to others.
I have a right to terminate conversations with people who make me feel put down or humiliated.
I do not have to read minds.
I do not have to fit everyone’s mold
I do not and cannot control the behavior or others.
I need not fear rejection from those who may not like or admire my behavior.
I do not have the ability to create mental stability, well-being or happiness for someone else.
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