Walking Shoes http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com Somebody's gotta fill 'em! posterous.com Mon, 12 Sep 2011 08:42:16 -0700 School Dazed http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/school-dazed http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/school-dazed

School Dazed!

My much anticipated return to school has left me feeling, for lack of a better term, deflated. Though I have found some aspects of the collegiate world challenging, they are not in the areas I had anticipated. I was sure I would be confronted with intellectual assessments resulting in a deep analysis of my abilities. What I was NOT prepared for was the physical repercussions my complete fear of failure would produce.

I sit here, before this screen, an entirely different person than the one who skipped through her days, oblivious to the mental anguish a return to school may cause. I do not understand how, exactly, these feelings came into play, but you can rest assured this is not some cry of angst intended to evoke sympathy. This is merely an admission of guilt!!!

There have been several “reasons” why I have missed the occasional class… and even entire DAYS of lessons. However, the importance of said reasons would not hold weight if strictly examined. I am aware of this. I am bothered by this. Mostly, I am appalled by my actions, or rather, inactions. “If you don’t try, you can’t fail” has been the theme of my first month of school… And for that, I am not only guilty; I am ashamed!!!

Nevertheless, I am happy to report that my self-pity is over and I have since moved my “Self-
Destruct-Button” further from the reach of my ever itchy trigger finger. I have placed my pretentious nose closer to the grindstone that taunts my subconscious; and for that, I am happy once again. There is a slight skip in my step that I will continue to carry with me if it freaking KILLS me (which it will NOT)!!! For I am INDESTRUCTIBLE once more… or something a little less dramatic and easier to live up to…

*Please feel free to correct my punctuation (aside from the occasional “…”, which is my standard of implementing a pause in thought) so that I may be more accurate in my English class!!! (Exclamation points are also excluded from your edit!!!) Lol… (as was that “lol”… and this next one)… lol!!! 

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Sat, 16 Jul 2011 16:58:00 -0700 8 Hours http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/8-hours http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/8-hours
Feeling rather small as I lie awake in bed
A cacophony of silences is swirling in my head
Drowning out the emptiness you left here in your stead
I miss you!

Sunlight catapults itself into my bloodshot eyes
Forcing me to notice its ability to rise
Another f*@$ing day has come and with it more goodbyes
I miss you!

Just like the sticky, juicy drops of early morning dew
I can't escape the many ways you made my life anew
And though this isn't Shakespeare, it's the best that I can do
When I miss you!

Traces of the me that was before you still remain
Embedded in the crevices and trapped inside my brain
Forcing any sanity I had left down the drain
Where are you?

Stumbling through the treachery of being left alone
Combative urges keeping me from picking up the phone
My will is grinding to a halt and soon it's "Will be Gone"
I want you!

Esoteric fantasies of us the nights before
Eradicate the visions of you walking out the door
Replacing my reality and leaves me wanting more
I need you!

The morning sun has come and gone; the midday heat begins
Concentrated memories perspire from my skin
Purging out the madness ere the darkness settles in
I miss you!

The hours you have been away are drawing to a close
Intrinsic habits causing me to camouflage with prose
These savage insecurities absentia tends and grows
I love you!

The seconds of this wretched day are slowly ticking by
8 hours since you shattered my whole world with your goodbye
It seems unfair to end this torture with only one word "HI!"

So baby... Oh... How I've missed you! 

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Tue, 04 Jan 2011 08:54:14 -0800 2011 http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/2011 http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/2011

2011
As I sit here in this New Year
Lost in ponderous thought
Reflecting on the one that’s gone
All battles waged and fought

The visions swirl and toss and curl
Through my mind’s bloodshot eye
Old bridges burned; new lessons learned
Each “hello” and sad “goodbye”

I curse the fate that set this gate
For me, so ghastly slow
And cuss the roots that fix my boots
To this loathsome chunk of loam

The icy blow that seems to know
Just how to chill me through
Peels apart my troubled heart
With nothing left in lieu

But I’ll not fear this infant year
Nor tremble at its door
The one that passed can kiss my ass
I’m here to settle the score!

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Sun, 19 Dec 2010 03:40:00 -0800 When You're Broken http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/when-youre-broken http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/when-youre-broken
Well, it's far from perfect... but then... that is somewhat synonomous with the word "BROKEN"... so without further adieu... here are the lyrics to the song, "When You're Broken" along with the link to the perfection lacking video on youtube... 
 

When You’re Broken

Verse I:

They say beauty’s in the eye of the one who holds your heart

And looking at you lying there… I can see how much that’s true.

You’ve been holding on so long, trying so hard to be strong

The picture of perfection in everybody’s view

But when the curtain falls and you’re left standing in the dark

And there’s nothing left to do but fall apart…

 

Chorus:

You’re more beautiful to me when life has got you on your knees

When you think all hope is lost and forsaken

When you’re drowning in your tears and you’re facing down your fears

You’re more beautiful… when you’re broken

 

Verse II:

You don’t have to be ashamed; I have seen you wear this pain

The fragments of your armor scattered on the ground

I can hear the tears you cry; the part of you, you try to hide

The fragile voice that calls to me when no one is around

When you stop pretending and just let your feelings show

The splendor deep inside you starts to grow

 

 

Chorus:

You’re more beautiful to me when life has got you on your knees

When you think all hope is lost and forsaken

When you’re drowning in your tears and you’re facing down your fears

You’re more beautiful… when you’re broken

 

Bridge:

Don’t turn away from me

Just look into my eyes at the reflection of the one that I adore

It’s the things you want to cover

That make me love you even more...

 

Chorus:

You’re more beautiful to me when life has got you on your knees

When you think all hope is lost and forsaken

When you’re drowning in your tears and you’re facing down your fears

You’re more beautiful… when you’re broken

 

 Tag:

They say beauty’s in the eye of the one who holds your heart…

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Sat, 18 Dec 2010 05:40:00 -0800 The Hancock Hypothesis http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/the-hancock-hypothesis http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/the-hancock-hypothesis

I'll be the first to admit that I have formed many ideas about life from my cinematic exposures. And... thanks to Mr. Hitchcock, and my mother's faith in my brain's maturity, I formed many opinions about death... and showers... and birds. <shudders>

 

I have always been a hopeless romantic. I believe in true love and happily ever after... all the things little girls are supposed to believe in. I still get weepy when I think of Bergman and Bogey saying their goodbyes on that air strip... He was my first love... that Humphrey Bogart. I remember when I hit about 8 or 9... and realizing that all the men I had such HUGE crushes on were no longer in their "prime" if even alive at all... I mentioned Bogey... Jimmy Stewart, Spencer Tracy, Van Heflin, Cary Grant... Oh I could go on and on ad nauseum... oh yes... and John Forsythe... YUMMY!!! 

 

Lest I forget my leading lady crushes... Starting with the one true Goddess of the Silver Screen... Princess Grace! OMG. Audrey Hepburn, Lizabeth Scott, Gene Tierney, Ingrid Bergman, and Kim Novak... again... until my fingers could type no more... I could list them all. I wanted to walk like them, TALK like them and oh to wear the clothes... the hats... the hair pinned up just so... I've been there before, I just know that I have. I've dreamed it. I've even had flashbacks that made absolutely no sense whatsoever! And NO, I wasn't drinking... but I would love to lie back on my chaise lounge in my house coat, sipping brandy from a giant snifter and caring nothing about the smoke lingering in the air and its effect on my drapery. Ahh to live again when lipstick came in various shades... of RED... and women carried "hand bags" and clutches... wore clip on earrings and gaudy pearls. Now THAT is where my comfort zone is…

 

whoa Dani… who the hell is driving this piece?

 

Sorry folks, we just took a small detour through Tangential Land... AAAAAANNNNNNND we're BACK!

 

Where was I going with this whole thing??? OOoo... and hose with the seams up the back... now that is HOT!!!

 

Okay.. I had to look in my rear view real quick... on to the Hancock Hypothesis... the whole POINT of this little story

 

My views and opinions of life... are a combination of living it and viewing it. I believe in many things that, until the last 30 years or so, were considered outrageous. Thank you 60's and 70's for opening the minds of the world to a little thing called The Universe. I believe in reincarnation. I believe in the soul’s journey for what it considers "perfection".

 

For some people, perfection might mean achieving a certain status or righting any wrongs they felt they may have done, or that were done to them. All of these things make perfect sense and there's no proof positive that it ISN'T the case... so I believe that it is.

 

My thinking is... if it brings NO HARM... then leave it be. I don't think there will be any WARS over my views. I'm not asking anyone to push a button or pull a trigger... so WHATEVER... I can be as flaky as I wannabe!!! lol

 

I have been "in love" many times. I have felt love many times. But, I was still, always searching... even when I thought I was happy... there was a part of me that was still looking for something or someone more.

 

It's kind of like seeing a picture on the wall... a lovely picture with a magnificent frame around it. When you see it, you think "Wow... Now THAT is perfect..." ... and then someone comes along and "mats" the picture and puts it back in that same frame... and it suddenly makes sense. It draws out the hidden colors you didn't see before... The picture that was quite beautiful in the frame alone... now… well, it takes your breath away.

 

In watching this movie, "Hancock", I heard  Charlize Theron (another Goddess) deliver her lines in reference to these certain "people" who were created in pairs... and all at once... my skin pricked... the hairs on the back of my neck stood erect... and my mind did this swooshy thing it does when an epiphany has just entered its hallowed halls... “THAT'S IT!!!” 

 

Have you ever met someone for the very first time... and felt so magnetically drawn to that person... that you didn't even have to walk toward them... you sort of floated there?  Have you ever touched the hand of a certain someone... and felt the energy leave your body and enter theirs... and at the same time... their energy left their body and entered yours??? And I don't mean butterflies or goose bumps... I'm talking touching 220v while standing in a bucket of water kind of energy!!! This “someone” can melt you with just one look and heat you with just one touch or smile. You could spend hours just sitting in the same room, and feel as though you’ve talked all day. They can make your heart beat faster and slower at the same time… and you never dare to speak the words, “I love you”, because to speak them or hear them could never compare to feeling them. If you have… you’ve met your “pair”.

 

Now here’s where the ‘Hancock’ part gets a little deeper. (And if you’ve made it this far… YAY YOU… you’re doing GREAT!)

We were all created – formed – designed… however your belief system works in re: to birth… with a Counterpart. A “Soul Mate” if you will… and through each of our journeys on this little planet of ours, we bounce around a lot of the same energies over and over again. No one really knows why or how… other than Matter is attracted to Like Matter… (energy, what have you… I’m not a scientist… I’m just a gushy girl with a theory)…

All the while we are tossed around hither and yon (I’ve always wanted to use that phrase in one of my writings… so now I have… CHECK)… umm… oh yeah… hither and yon, our mind – our BRAIN – the big fat stupid organ that keeps us from believing in such tomfoolery is just going along as if it’s never been here before. “Oh, look at the pretty sky and flowers. Oh I need this and I need that, Wow… look at how smart I am”…

Meanwhile… in the nether regions of “us”… The SOUL or spirit… is going INSANE!

“Damn you stupid brain… I know the sky is pretty… Yes, that girl looks nice… Why do we have to go through this EVERY single TIME… I’ve got SHIT to do!”

If you think of it as a computer… our brain is our RAM… and our Soul is our hard drive. You can have a 50 terabyte hard drive… but we limit our brains to 1 or 2 gigs of RAM… and our soul is working it’s hardest to locate all the things it knew and learned from the previous cycles… I’m tellin’ ya… it’s a wonder we ever find our Counterpart.

Now, when I say “Counterpart” that is not to say I take to the theory that “Opposites Attract”. It’s somewhat true… because it does happen. I’ve done the magnet experiment in school… so yeah, I get that… But in people, it’s just too hard to maintain a healthy relationship with a true “opposite”… So many people have tried to prove the O.A. T.… and I have yet to see it work even once… that my pea brain will allow me to recall anyways… lol

 

Please, don’t get down about this… there is some light here… and then a little gray… but then there’s more light. So here we go:

From time to time, as our lives twist and turn the way lives do, we meet our Counter. We may know them only for a moment… or have some turbulent love affair that is later captured in poetry or sonnets or plays. But when it happens… you will know it almost immediately. And it will remain burned into your pages for as long as you can remember them.

Your soul feels lost without theirs nearby. It is loneliness like no other… to have found your Counter and then lost them. And you feel as though no other love will ever be able to replace it… (This was the gray part.)

But fear not, my friends, for you shall meet your Counter again… maybe not in this life… but in another to come. I believe that each time we circle back through… it takes less and less time to find them… that bits and pieces of each memory gets etched into our hearts deeply enough that our new shell can’t quite cover the lines anymore. We will come around again and again until… the two pieces are joined in love at last… and then, we are done.

We have learned all there is to learn. We have done all there was to do. And we have loved and been loved by the one who was there from our beginning and who will be there in the end!

 

And they lived happily ever after…

The END!

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Fri, 17 Dec 2010 08:48:47 -0800 Just Because http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/just-because http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/just-because
I have been on an extended sabbatical from my regular writing... Partly by choice, partly due to unsavory working conditions... but in the end, what does "reason" matter when at last, I am here... writing again.
 
I've had a story to tell, my friends, for the last couple of weeks... but as I mentioned before... the working conditions have proved to be more stifling than inspiring... So I put it off... and off... and off... and have since come to the conclusion that I need to purge.
 
It all started, for me, with two voicemails from an extremely talented writer friend of mine, Mr. Ruben Porras. For Ruben, as he would excitedly explain to me upon returning his calls, it began at the end. The end of a movie he had just viewed, "Love And Other Drugs". I'll leave the reviews to Ruben, the expert, and just get to the point as sententious as my artistic nature will allow... lol! 
 
In other words... Bear with me... I'll get there as quickly as possible!
 
Now, Ruben has called me previously with some fantastic hooks and catch phrases for songs... ones that acted like itching powder for the creative mind. And believe you me, these are still on my corkboard for future endeavors. However, this one was so much more than anything I had ever thought of or heard of... and the way he explained his thinking behind the lyrics... well, I was moved almost to tears by its essence. Right away, my mind was going a million miles an hour... yet standing still at the same time. All the ideas swirled around in a vortex of emotions... I was completely swept away.
 
When Ruben had contacted me, he was just bouncing an idea... but looking to develop the material himself. I hung up the phone, excited at the thought of finally writing something WITH someone. We MUST get together soon... was all I could think... and then... it happened. It was the "Breathe, 2AM" syndrome. The song refused to leave me be, pumping my veins with poison. No matter how hard I tried... it kept jumping up at me. A lyric here, a chord progression there, a concept, an idea... they didn't just knock at my mind's door... they were beating the damned thing in. I tried to keep it at bay... but he may as well thrown a steak to a lion, and told it not to eat it... It was only a matter of an hour or so, and the chorus had almost written its self.
 
The piano developed its own gravitational pull and everytime I pushed myself from the keys... they would call me back again. I closed my eyes and started to play... and I could hear the melody. There just weren't any words... only the idea of it all. After a couple of days of me still battling with it... the opening line came to me. It was as if a bucket of paint had been tipped over a blank canvas... the words spilled out over the page... and it was like nothing I'd ever felt before. I wasn't writing this song... I was merely putting into words the emotions Ruben had explained to me. I was writing this song through someone else's eyes.
 
Most songs I've written are completely autobiographical. But this one was from a place I'd never been before... a place not many women have been. I am hoping when Ruben hears the song, he will find it worthy of the lines he gave me... and I pray I can find an artist to do it justice, because I believe this is a song that needs to be heard.
 
Thank you, Ruben, for giving me this opportunity, this gift of a song... one that I would have never found without you!

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Fri, 05 Nov 2010 15:31:00 -0700 Facebook of Love - Updating the Status Quo... part IV http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/facebook-of-love-updating-the-status-quo-part http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/facebook-of-love-updating-the-status-quo-part

The Logitech Notebook Webcam is just about THE BEST $40.00 I have EVER spent!


(After writing that last sentence… I went on a mental montage of forty dollar purchases… trying to find one better… and the only thing I could come up with was my white, patent leather, six-inch platform, knee-high go-go boots that have the precise angle built-in to shape and lift my ass to perky posterior perfection… and… each time I zip them up… caress my calves like no one else can)


I was so excited when I got home. Like a kid on Christmas Eve who just got home from Santa’s house! I got the package open as quickly (and injury free) as possible… set it all up to work with Skype… then… I FINALLY got to push the ‘Call with Video’ button. Oh yeah baby!!! I was practically jumping up and down. We were going to be able to see each other for the first time… in REAL time!


His number rang… and rang… and rang… I glanced up at the time… It was only like 5:00… “NOOOOOoooooo… DAMMIT!!!” 5:00 PM PST… which meant it was 1:00 AM GMT!


GMT:  Greenwich Mean Time is the time Zone for the United Kingdom as well as a seemingly ENDLESS list of countries that fall within GMT’s boundaries. (See, I do listen to you… and now my dear, sweet friends know what the English do… in the Mean Time… hehehe)


The Speed of Sight/Sound being much faster than the Speed of Finger… he had answered the call before I had the opportunity to abort the Virgin Mission of Operation Jetson…


“’Ello!”


Shit!!! I could tell from the raspy crackle in his voice that I had just interrupted a long awaited appointment with The Sandman… an appointment that had been scheduled and missed repeatedly over the last month or so… and those that were kept… were unproductive at best…   So, in an effort to dilute the level of my intrusion… I chose the “Beg forgiveness” method first!


“Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetie… I just realized what time it is. Did I wake you?” (Why do we ask that question when we know the answer??? Actually… don’t answer that… I already know… lol)

Even though I had expected a child-like reminder of the eight hours he had on me and my day… along with a recap of how much sleep he had been missing… the response I was hoping for was a little “softer” than the  sharp morph of the words “yeah” and “yup” I received.


“Aww… I really am sorry… I was just too excited to think, I guess.”… Hoping he might ask ‘Why?’ and then I’d tell him about the webcam… and he’d immediately be awake and jumping at his computer…


“Well, I’ll let you go back to sleep, babe… I just wanted to let you know, I bought a webcam so we can see each other now…”


No response! 


In a last ditch effort to peak his interest and possibly rustle up a dose of forgiveness, I said, “Okay… We’ll try it tomorrow… after you’ve had the chance to get your rest! G’nite then…” Surely he’ll respond better to that…


Again… no response. After about 30 seconds of my slow-motion-reach for the “End Call” button, I receive a very cool/agitated, “Yeaup”, which was quickly followed by “Alright… Speak to you in the morning …”


I was frozen… I didn’t want to move a muscle. How did THAT go so completely wrong? I didn’t hang up… neither did he. I could hear his deep breathing… and convinced myself that he was Sleep Skyping… and would have no recollection that I, no matter HOW accidental, I had shown blatant disregard for the: Reasonable Phone Hours Guidelines we had established only a week ago! (I use the term ‘WE’ loosely in this instance… as I was more on the listening end of that conversation than the speaking end!)


In the weeks that led up to this mishap… neither of us had been getting any sort of quality sleep. We had barely slept a straight 5 hours since I had started utilizing my PSP in our Skyping sessions. Our schedules were so out of whack, we didn’t know if it was day or night some of the time. His hours had bled into my hours… and vice versa. It was the worst case of Jet-Lag EVER suffered by people who hadn’t stepped foot aboard a plane, train or any form of transportation. We hadn’t even left our homes… and still we were feeling the pull of those 8 time zones and five thousand miles of Mother Earth that laid between us.


It wasn’t just being “tired”, though. Whatever we were doing… whatever “this” was… it was simply unheard of. Unprecedented confusion and uncertainty was all bundled together with this unmistakable feeling of familiarity and security.


Most relationships, when first beginning, go through a Green Broke stage.


 You can get the saddle on… and even a bridle… you climb in that saddle and it seems to go smoothly for a bit. Then, outta the blue, clear sky… that pony will start bucking and snorting… even though it knows its efforts are futile... and not in harmony with its soul’s true aspiration.

We all seem to do the same damn thing with each other.  You want to talk to them or spend time with them… you’re thinking about them a lot… or all the time… and for some reason, this agitates you… you even get pissed at the other person for making you want to be with them… as if they’re doing it On Purpose!!! It’s all part of that innate fear of hurt and rejection… just another stupid tool in our Self-Preservation Box. Well, add to that box the natural instinct to share your existence with another… the heart’s desire to love and be loved… It’s a wonder the Earth is as populated as it is.


We had had several conversations that lasted hours… and covered more topics than I could’ve imagined possible between just two people. They went from light and humorous nattering to the occasional, flirty pillow-talk… and from the more serious Advisory Conferences and Verbal Reward Ceremonies to the essential (and numerous) Shoulder Sessions.

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Fri, 22 Oct 2010 16:53:00 -0700 Facebook of Love - Updating the Status Quo... continued... some more... http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/facebook-of-love-updating-the-status-quo-cont-0 http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/facebook-of-love-updating-the-status-quo-cont-0

A couple more calls followed… more chatting… more emails and then came SKYPE… an invention that has made this world an even smaller place to live. (I mean that in the most wonderful way)


“Do you have Skype?”, he asked during one of our chats.


I didn’t have Skype. I had tried it once before but never had anyone to talk to… so I had forgotten all about it. After a few hiccups on my end, I was quickly up and running. I plugged in my headset/mic and moments later, I was speaking to him in STEREO!!! He was right there… in the room… with me!


It was like watching a DVD in surround sound for the very first time… only I was one of the lead characters and he… well… he was co-star/supporting role/narrator all rolled into one magnificent and imaginary person! Oh he was real, all right. More real to me than I think anyone else could have suspected. Even he could never have guessed how real he was to me. This Mafioso/Profile – turned ‘neighbor’  – turned ‘Interest’ – turned virtual friend – had become a real, live person. Not just someone with all the regular stuff: a name, a mother and father, a sister, a job… but someone with reactions and responses, a “tone of voice” and sense of humor. He was a person now existing in my life.


Our interactions spanned across many pieces of the ‘Net. Addresses were exchanged and Google Earth was employed. He took me on a guided tour of the area he called home… and I took him on a walk down memory lane… and told him why the vehicles and garage found at my Google Earth address were no longer. Messaging and email was used as our main source of communication. Skype was saved for those moments when I could actually “speak”… (any parent out there knows exactly what I’m talking about… so I digress)


I didn’t realize how truly present he had become until I noticed a change… a change in me!!! There were times when some small, insignificant thing would occur during my day and I could hear his exact response to it… almost immediately… in my head! Like an involuntary reflex or ‘knee jerk’, if you will. Even now, as I’m writing this for all to see, I cannot swear to you that it wasn’t, what you might consider, a little “coo-coo”; however, I can tell you it is as bona fide now as it was then. So, judge all you like… I’m not the one still reading the ramblings of a nut job… YOU ARE! Hehehe… Now where was I??? Oh yes… Imagination… 


My artistic and extra sensory abilities, my exposure to and love of romantic media, my dire need to be rescued and his seemingly supernatural abilities to supply intellectual, liberating and amorous stimuli was a combination of Universally Quixotic proportions. To sum all that into one word… I would have to say, it was EPIC! The reason I am sharing it with you, my friends, is because it is a story that deserves to be told.


Our time difference of eight hours was beginning to wear a little thin on us, though neither one of us cared to admit it. It had been months of messaging and Skyping… and we had learned the ins of one another so well that it just became logical to meet. If we were two people who had met per my previous “Bus Scenario”, we would have already been a “couple” by normal dating standards. However, this was not the case. We definitely knew the “in’s” but not so much the “out’s”.


Sure, I had seen his pictures… he had seen mine. I would even take pictures WHILE I was talking to him… then send them or post them… just to make me seem more… tangible! Sometimes it worked. Sometimes I wanted to rip out my hair. My imagination could only take me so far and there were days when just talking to him made me feel even MORE alone than if he wasn’t there at all. So after much consideration… (45 minutes) Hannah and I walked to Target where I purchased the “Next Level” in our relationship… My WEBCAM!!!

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Fri, 15 Oct 2010 02:41:00 -0700 Facebook of Love - Updating the Status Quo... continued http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/facebook-of-love-updating-the-status-quo-cont http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/facebook-of-love-updating-the-status-quo-cont

I waited… as nervously and impatiently as I had been in my visions… and… NOTHING! No call. I checked my phone and it was working. I checked for missed calls… and even checked to see if I had missed a missed call… Nope! Nadda! Nothing! I went from feeling nervous to crushed in the blink of an eye… that is… until his chat box popped up in my window to inform me that he was having trouble getting the call to go through… so I called him instead. The moment I heard the tell-tale ‘ring-ring, ring-ring’ of an International call… my heart started pounding so hard in my chest… I thought for sure I was going to give myself away. All the blood in my body rushed to my ears and it sounded like the ocean breeze was blowing through my head.

(Ha Ha… Insert blonde joke here… and get it over with… I’ve got a story to tell)

“Hello.” He said in a quiet voice… a quiet, shy voice with an accent that made my ear melt right to the phone… which would have been helpful only moments later when I, in all my jittery nervousness, pressed the phone too hard against my cheek… thus hanging up on him. This was an action that repeated its self, SEVERAL times over the length of our entire conversation. (Looking back now… he really should’ve had a better idea what he was getting himself into?!?)

Our conversation consisted of me:  apologizing for hanging up, laughing my nervous laugh and then saying “Really?” a LOT (which I did to cover up the fact that I either didn’t hear him or possibly didn’t understand him). We discussed the price of “petrol” and he told me how he had just fueled up earlier only to discover he’d left his wallet at home… after pumping the fuel. (I’m not even going to make a comment here about how I, in more recent times, have been referred to as a… what was that word again… Oh yes… Scatterbrain!!! Because that would be petty… hehehe)

 

This next part is not what this piece is about and I don’t wish to dwell on it here… However, it was a huge part of me finding the strength to leave and stay gone; and as such, is deserving of at least a tangential side note…

Through several chats… conversations… late-night skyping sessions… this man showed me that I was a woman worthy of love, deserving of life and entitled to happiness… He helped me reignite the pilot light in the very heart of me that lit up the way to my freedom! When the rains and wind threatened that light… he stood watch over me and kept it burning. When I felt alone and afraid, he reminded me of all the people I had cheering for me… when there was no end in sight… he showed me how far I had come… and he did all of these things from five thousand miles away…

And that, my friends, (much like the Hokey Pokey) IS what it’s all about!!!

 

There were a couple more calls that followed… more chatting… more emails and then came SKYPE… an invention that has made this world an even smaller place to live. (I mean that in the most wonderful way)

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Thu, 14 Oct 2010 09:07:04 -0700 Facebook of Love - Updating the Status Quo http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/facebook-of-love-updating-the-status-quo-0 http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/facebook-of-love-updating-the-status-quo-0 (let's try this again)

Face Book of Love?

Updating the Status Quo!

 

It was around August of 2009 and I, like many of my Facebook friends, had been introduced to the world wide web of digital addictions. What had started out as virtual farming fun… had turned into more serious roles of Mafia Mayhem and Treasure seeking Turmoil! Facebook had offered me the opportunity to find friends where none had existed before… a simulated reality that filled the emptiness of my actual life.  And while I wish upon a thousand stars that I could have back the countless hours I wasted on these fantasies… it was here that I met him… and for that I will be ever grateful!


I don’t remember the exact day that he or I had somehow asked the other to be a “Facebook friend”… I do know it had to do with Mafia Wars (a game I no longer play) and I soon discovered that he played several other games I played as well. I knew this because his profile picture was prominent in my request box, and one that I rather looked forward to seeing each time I logged on.


The only “actual” thing I can equate this… our beginning… to would be perhaps seeing the friendly familiar face on the bus you ride to work each day… or the newsstand where you get your paper… The anticipation grew over the next few days or so… and I’ll admit to a mild form of profile stalk-er-y!  I had to see a little bit more about this person that sent me pigs and trees and made me smile the kind of smile I hadn’t dared smile in such a long time.


I poked around his “interests” only to discover that I shared in his appreciation of several television shows and a few other interests. He wrote short and funny snippets about the “White Van Man” that made me snicker… and I almost felt guilty for being a bit snoopy… but it wasn’t as if I was acting too strangely. I’m sure lots of people check out other people before they actually speak or “chat” to them. I wasn’t reading anything he hadn’t put out there. This was all information he chose to share with those who could read his page. (I know… I’m not actually convinced either… but I’m trying to look as non-psycho as possible here.)


There were a few comments back and forth… mostly on that silly Yo’ Ville game… then came a few more comments… a bit bolder and in view of other friends. I was nervous to chat to him… as I’m sure he was to me. Such a simple thing in the grand scheme of it all… just to chat to someone… But it was more than that. I was more honest with him than I had even dared be with myself. I was not only an open book… I was an open book with no frills or thrills… just D! That’s all!


He had no expectations… nor did I. We were both two vessels who decided to take a jab at communication.  He was a writer… I was a writer (of sorts) and I’ll admit to you… though I didn’t admit it to him… that I had to www.dictionary.com a few of the words he used in our correspondence. I even “Googled” a few things… just so I could keep up. Not something I’m particularly proud of… but I’ll admit it. He “concerned” me! He challenged me. He made me “think” about what I was writing and what I was saying. I’m not so haughty that I won’t face the fact that I’d “dumbed it down” with my partners in years past. And in all honesty… I cannot say whether it was out of necessity or out of my own ideas of my station in life. No matter the reason… it was how I worked… and it had always “worked” for me in the past. But this time… this time it was different. 

 

Most of my “romantic involvements” have begun the same way. Me, center stage in some bar… scantily dressed and holding my own musically speaking. “He” sees me and is intrigued with my “musical talents”. Without sounding too obnoxious, I will say that it might be some sort of fantasy… dating the ‘Rock Star’ chick… however… ten AM (and not one goddamned minute before, please) brings Dani… this chick that has kids to take care of and Little League to be late for. What started off looking like a sweet life with “Gigs” and “Closing Time Parties”… fades into the smoke and hangovers… and is what it is… A JOB! Not just any job… one that takes place every Friday and Saturday from 9 – 2! Eventually, sitting alone, watching the band isn’t as much fun as being with someone on the dance floor when that slow song plays… Stars become people… usually seriously FLAWED people with lives and shit of their own to deal with. That’s when the song ends… and life begins. For a lot of people… that ain’t no kinda life… so they move on!

 

With each message back and forth… it became easier to talk about nothing at all… and still get lost in the moments we shared. I think there were times we both suspended our realities just enough to where it didn’t have to make sense or be sane. For those moments I spoke with him… I was free…

…I was in a “tav” or pub somewhere, sipping whiskey and fumbling the swizzle stick I had liberated from my Coke back… another senseless victim of my nervous straw chewing habit… while waiting for him to join me after work. He would appear in the doorway… flustered and complaining of the parking situation… and having to give someone a ride to some insignificant place… the exact location trailing off into the background. None of it would matter to me as I would be busy appearing aloof and unaware of his tardiness… even though I had checked the clock, my watch AND my cell phone every 30 seconds over the last 10 minutes. He would catch me glancing at my watch… chuckle an invented nervous laugh and tell me, “Have patience, darling. I wouldn’t forget you…”

He was always the first to snap it back to a safe altitude… and though I would fuss a bit at his need to be “real” and “keep my feet on the ground”… I would once again join the ranks of Earth walking pedestrian.  Of course, my personal library of Austen, The Bronte’s and other such romance writers… as well as too many Humphrey Bogart movies could take a majority of credit for the setting of our “Meeting of the Minds” and the length of time I wished to tarry.  I could hear his accent in the words that spilled across my screen... (And yes dearest… it is YOU who has the accent)


I’m not quite sure if it was curiosity on his part, or the continuous badgering on his co-workers’ part, he did tend to stress the desire to hear my voice… which is code for I need to know you’re not a guy! Something we had both joked about several times. We exchanged phone numbers and made a ‘date’ to finally speak.   

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Fri, 08 Oct 2010 01:54:53 -0700 Sins of the Mother http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/sins-of-the-mother http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/sins-of-the-mother If we learned anything at all from the biblical rhetoric scooped into a sermon sized cone on Sunday mornings and sprinkled with Perilous Parables... I would have to say that history, be it written in text books or those of the Old Testament, has shown us time and time again... the sins of the father will indeed be visited upon the son. 

How? To what extent? When? All questions that have been asked since the turn of the phrase... and all are answered in time... but what of the sins of the mother? 

I have yet to see equal consideration given to the opposite gender... a person, or a sex, if you will, who is given blame for most of the hardship that stems from man's onset in this world (if we are given to believe the story of Adam and Eve, that is). The sins of the mother are not just visited upon the daughter... they are embedded, intertwined, weaved and stitched into her very being. 

Not only are we the very model by which our daughter will shape her views of what a woman looks like... but we mothers play out, in front of them, day in and day out what a woman IS!  What a woman will say or do. What a woman can, will or should give... and what a woman should, can or will take.  The enormous range of motions is too vast to number and too intricate to list one by one.   So instead, I offer "for instance"...

I have made jokes and light musings about my relationship with my brothers. It was a rough and tumble sort of time for me as it was/is for many brother/sister relationships. There were times I'm sure I was a huge pain in the ass... and there were times I just wanted to be a part of their little group... There's no one or thing on trial here... this was just a part of life.

I remember times when my brother's were being especially mean to me and the result of that was some sort of pain inflicted upon me. 

A Charlie Horse in the leg... a blister on my finger... a skinned knee... Things that healed with a kiss and a band-aid... 

I watched as my brothers were then punished for what they had done... and unlike the sadistic little sisters I have seen on TV shows and movies... I was horrified by the imposed penalties they received... and wanted nothing to do with them getting them.  Harsh, humiliating punishments that even to this day... make me shudder, by breath become labored and the hole in my chest tighten and ache. So, as time went on... I stopped telling.  I saved my tattle-tailing for little things like name calling and what not... I learned how to keep my big mouth shut.

Now, in no way am I blaming my mother OR father for this mind warp... There was no way they could've known the empathic qualities I possessed... Their cognizance would have made little to no difference in their actions... due to the simple fact that their "actions" were more "re-actions" than anything else.

I can tell you this... the effects of such visual and mental traumas returned years later, when I chose to remain silent about the abuse suffered in mine and my children's home. I feared the punishment my abuser would receive more than I feared the abuse. I was frightened FOR him more than OF him.  As ridiculous as that is for you to read... think of how ridiculous I felt when I realized this was how I was functioning!  And how ashamed I felt as a mother to have passed this on to my children... to my daughters... and to my son as well.

I taught my children the importance of Keeping Secrets... We even had "pep talks" about what kinds of things are to be kept secret and what is okay to speak of when outside the Hellish roof we lived under. I recall, quite vividly, the night I left for the very last time... She said... "Do you want me to tell them?"  And for the first time ever... my answer was "YES!!!"

It took a little while before she found the strength to do it... but she did... and that strength was of her own making!!! 

I can only hope that that one "YES" was sufficient to change the cycle... change it enough to notice the difference... and enough of a difference that they, my children... and THEIR children, learn another way... a BETTER way to live. A change sufficient enough that my sins remain just that... MY sins... The sins of the Mother... 

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Mon, 04 Oct 2010 00:48:00 -0700 Inner Illusions http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/inner-illusions http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/inner-illusions
Once again... it happened. 
 And while I will not claim fault...
I will share the burden of blame.
I shut the door... and fell into SILENCE...

Her eagerness gave Her the strength I no longer had.
I was broken. I was weak.
I knew the consequence I faced by relinquishing control.
Yet, I could no longer bear the anguish alone.

My desiccated soul was withering fast...
It cried out to be quenched.
The putrid stench of bourbon stung my throat
And numbed the noise in my head.

Seamlessly I slipped from commotion to quiet
From quiet to lull... From lull to nothing
The exact moment went unnoticed by me.
Exhausted, I sank into submission

Her victorious ascent was unchallenged and swift.
Though She did not seek perpetual power
Her scheme scratched and clawed inside my head
Waves of frozen fear washed over me as I realized

This time... for Her... its to the DEATH!

Her insatiable desire to drown in her precious bourbon
Allowed me meager moments of lucidity
Where I would scream myself awake
Only to find that I was in unfamiliar waters.

Energy... spent... WASTED on recognition
Was keeping me from emerging completely
My trembling fingers reached and tapped out my SOS
Then... disappeared... back into the abyss.

I could feel Our life, Hers and mine, slowly slipping away
Hope was left by the wayside as I waited for the darkness to consume Us...
My cries for rescue had gone unheard by all...

...All, that is, but ONE.

My fingers... still trembling... clutched the floor
My stomach wrenched and expelled the poison She had taken in
My lungs breathed air... My heart began to beat again...
She retreated and I... I fell into the noise... and slept

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Sun, 03 Oct 2010 22:31:02 -0700 Untitled http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/29622423 http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/29622423

I curse these wretched pains... The phantom blood that pours from the apparition of my heart... Is truer than the words you spat out... Swearing your loyalty, your love, your being to none but me. I pray, "O Death! Have pity this night and snatch me from my misery"

Eu amaldiçôo essas dores miseráveis ... O sangue que derrama fantasma da aparição do meu coração ... É mais verdadeiro do que as palavras que você cuspiu ... Palavrões sua lealdade, seu amor, o seu ser para ninguém além de mim. Eu oro, ó morte! Tende piedade esta noite e arrancar-me da minha miséria "

 

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Fri, 24 Sep 2010 05:31:00 -0700 How the Winston Was Won http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/how-the-winston-was-won http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/how-the-winston-was-won

TWELVE YEARS OLD!!!  This Saturday... The 25th day of September, my son, Gordon, will reach the age of 12. My brain resists this knowledge, for some unknown reason... though I'm sure it has something to do with me facing the rising numerals in my age... Whatever the reason may be... its so hard to believe... that he'll be 12 on Saturday.

On Friday, September 25th, 1998, @ Eight o' Six in the AM... weighing in at Six pounds Six ounces... Gordon Eugene, my one and only son... breathed his first breath of life.
(and trust me... the sinister and utterly frightening occurrence of three 6's appearing in his time of birth and weight... was definitely NOT wasted on me... lol)

Gordon:  Of Old English and Gaelic origin... meaning Large Fortification... Fortress... Blockade... Battlement
 
 (I think the name was invented with my Gordon in mind) 
 
Eugene:  Greek, Scottish and Welsh origins... meaning Well-Born... Proud... and... get this... Prone to Laziness    

I believe our names have great meaning into who we are... to some extent. As much as Gordon's name has fit him and served him well... I must bare to you this crimson neck of red that lies beneath my box-fed golden locks... and confess... 

His name... The name by which my only son is known... It derives from a great love... A love shared by both his father and I. Not the supposed undying love and adoration of each other.  No, this love was much deeper and truer than that.  My son's name was born from the love of NASCAR. 

Gordon's middle name came so easily. Eugene was a name shared by two very important men in Gordon's family tree... His father's father... and my grandfather.  The first name was the one thing I just couldn't pin down. Then... late one Sunday morning... as the flash of various colors and numbers flickered on the screen before me... I turned to my co-anchor and said, 

"What about Gordon?", I asked in passing

"What about him?" he replied, thinking I was referring to our favorite driver.

"No, What about the name, Gordon?"

"Really???  We could do that?"... (as if there were some sort of patent on the name, Gordon)

"I'll make you a deal... If Jeff Gordon wins Talladega... (in mid October) we'll name him Gordon."

Now I know there are a LOT of crazies out there who believe they have some sort of magical power that impacts their favorite team/player/driver's performance... You know... Nut jobs who do a certain dance or wear/don't wear a jersey or eat/don't eat certain foods in some sort of influential necromantic ceremony... Confident in their importance to the game/race... you get the picture.  While I can neither confirm or deny the existence of such a phenomenon... I will tell you this...

1. Gordon Eugene was not due until AFTER the second race of the 1998 season @ Talladega Speedway.
2. Gordon Eugene was born a little over a month premature.
3. (Obviously) We named him Gordon anyways.
4. Jeff Gordon placed second in The Winston 500, Talladega Super Speedway, on October 11, 1998 (okay... so he didn't win it... but wait... there's more)
5. Jeff Gordon went on to WIN the Winston Cup Championship for the 1998 race season 

So now you know... How the Winston was Won!!!

And if you ever happen to see Operator of the Hendricks Motorsports # 24 DuPont Chevrolet, Mr. Jeff Gordon... would you pass a little somethin' along from me...

"Mr. Jeff Gordon... You are welcome!"

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Wed, 22 Sep 2010 08:27:54 -0700 Who Said??? http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/who-said http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/who-said Who said, you could come along and charm me
With a twinkling smile disarm me
And write the words you wrote to me

Who said, I'd be unable to forget you
Wonder how I ever let you
Touch the deepest parts of me

I put up walls, and you knocked them down
I fell to my knees, you lifted me off the ground
You held me tight through my darkest days and nights...
And now you're gone...
 

Who said, you could glue the shattered pieces
Of my heart. Be the one who eases
All the pain I'm drowning in

Who said, your touch could make me tremble
Just one kiss could reassemble
The broken me that lies within

I put up walls, and you knocked them down
I fell to my knees, you lifted me off the ground
You held me tight through my darkest days and nights...
And now you're gone...

Who said, you could fill the empty spaces
Let me feel your warm embraces
Just to take them back again...

Oh... I put up walls, and you knocked them down
I fell to my knees, you lifted me off the ground
You held me tight through my darkest days and nights...
And now you're gone...

But not for long...

Who said, 
Who said, you could
Who said, I would
Who said, 
Who said, you could love me...

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Fri, 10 Sep 2010 02:16:03 -0700 In The Beginning... http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/in-the-beginning-0 http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/in-the-beginning-0
... there was love. 

Pure love. 

A love 
Beyond 
Any measure 
Of human thought 
Or feeling 
Or touch. 

A love as clear 
As the first light 
Reflected from 
The first droplet 
Of water ever known.

Unconditional
Impenetrable
Unyielding
All knowing
Infinite
Love

As you read those words... who or what did you see? 
Was it Heavenly? 
Earthly? 
Woman? 
Man?
Divine?
Was it LOVE?

In The End...

...there is hate

Pure Hate
A hate beyond 
Any measure
Known to anything
But man

An emotion
Darker than Oblivion
Reflected from 
The first tear
Ever shed
In Utter FEAR!

Growing
Impeding
Penetrating
All consuming....
 
STOPPABLE...

Shall we begin again...

In the beginning... there IS LOVE...

Too much hate and fear has been born of man's incessant need to label, divide, limit and control the unadulterated and pure joy felt when sharing one's lust/love/life with another... I choose LOVE!!!

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Wed, 08 Sep 2010 23:08:20 -0700 Eloquent Etchings http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/eloquent-etchings http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/eloquent-etchings I gave that phrase a think or two... and I have decided to keep it. There are so many things that have eloquently etched themselves into my mind. Pictures that are formed of beautiful words, then matted, framed and hung in the corridors of my brain. Some of them have motion and resound the happiness felt in the moment they capture, much like the un-stills of Harry Potter fame. It was such a simple little thing... this memory that was awakened in me this very morning. Hardly seemed worth taking note of it, really... however, the emotions it stirred in me are worthy of this bit of writing, I'm sure.

It was a morning much like this one... I had awoken about 30 minutes prior to the alarm bells ringing the start of a new day.  It was a bit chilly, not so cold as to keep a warm body snuggled in their covers... but enough for me to employ my sweater on the way to the thermostat to switch on the heater for the first time this new school year. I dreaded the first day of "heater" and the horrid smells that it belched out after nearly six months of dormancy... like old dust and hair being simmered over a propane grill.  I had let Lucy out and began fixing myself a pot of coffee.  Cold days always needed that extra incentive to get the kids out of bed... and this day was the first one... so I thought I'd make the most of it and toss their clothes in the dryer and cook up some old fashioned oatmeal... an idea that, much like its recipe, took on a life of its own. 

I started out with a couple of apples that I peeled, cored and diced... I put them in a saucepan with some brown sugar, cinnamon, all spice and nutmeg. While the apples were simmering, I started the oatmeal in another pot. 

I use the term "Old Fashioned" oatmeal very loosely... If God would've intended us to wait 30 minutes for Oatmeal, he wouldn't have invented quick oats... OR microwave ovens... same thing applies for instant pudding, mashed potatoes and anything by that Pilsbury Dough Boy

 So, I had some nicely spiced and caramelized apples... which were doing a fantastic job at covering up the coughing heater AND enticing little noses to wake with smiling faces... I had a hot cup o' Joe and toasty socks to tempt even the grouchiest grumbler from his slumber.  I added some evaporated milk and chopped walnuts to the apples... to make a rich caramel sauce... then folded them into the oatmeal.  I flicked on lights and distributed the warm clothing... The whole kitchen smelled like the inside of an oatmeal cookie. Each oat was dripping with gooey goodness... and it didn't take long before the table was surrounded with sleepy, yet smiling, happy faces awaiting their morning nourishment.

I scooped 'em each up a small bowl, (a little bit goes a VERY looooooong way) poured on the milk and drizzled a bit of maple syrup on top... then sat back and listened to their sticky "Mmmmm"s as they gobbled it up.  I don't recall exactly how the rest of the morning went or how that day ended... I just know how it started... 

It was the first of many "Old Fashioned Oatmeal" mornings... But that first one... that day is etched into my mind as a magical day when there were no socks to look for, no missed alarms or buses, no dark clouds with or without their notorious linings...  A day of brilliant pictures formed of words; now matted, framed and hung in these hallowed halls of my memory... 

...the gallery is now open to the public for viewing...

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http://files.posterous.com/user_profile_pics/695676/Picture_115.jpg http://posterous.com/users/5eHzIcbiNqet Dani Walker daniwalk3r Dani Walker
Sun, 05 Sep 2010 14:59:33 -0700 Morning Glory, Here's My Story http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/morning-glory-heres-my-story http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/morning-glory-heres-my-story

Morning Glory, Here's MY Story

by Danielle Thuney Walker on Sunday, February 21, 2010 at 5:50am

I've had to change my morning rituals several times over the course of motherhood. Most of these changes came on gradually and it was simple to morph into the next stage. As each child has started school, the changes took on a more drastic and hurried approach... but none, to date, have been quite as severely challenging as this last valley of doom I find myself trudging through!

I greet each weekday morning with all the enthusiasm of the ol' codger who swings wide his front door and beckons you enter with a grunt and shrugged wave.

"Might as well come in if you're just going to stand there ringin' the bell"...

I pry my daughter's knee cap epidural from my spine and wait for the feeling to return to my legs, which it does both quickly and painfully. I flick on the lamp (the overhead light being too stark for first call), hand Maddie her clothing and wait for her to shuffle off to the bathroom before engaging Gordon in what has become our morning standoff.

I turn with his clothes in hand and hear the faint sound of whistling. No friends, it isn't the morning song of the wren or robin cheerfully bringing in the morning sun... 'Tis the battle cry of Clint Eastwood fame... The Good, The Bad, The Ugly... I am armed with camo pants (his favorites), two shirts... one long sleeved and one short... not sure of his mood and how he'll react to either length... I have everything he needs to get completely dressed and out the door... I've cleared my head of all negativity, crossed my fingers and prayed to the gods that he just wakes up and takes the bait.

Damn... he pulled the covers over his head... The tumbleweed rolling across the room distracted me... and he had them up and over before I could show him the stack of clothes along with my winning smile.

"C'mon Buggy... Time to get up." I sing in my most wonderful Donna Reed type voice. My teeth start to hurt from all the syrup I dump on that line... he doesn't move an inch... just whimpers.

I try edging back the covers... but its too much too soon. He responds with a growl and snatches the covers from me... tucking them around his little body and yes, over his head! I place the clothing next to him and tell him to get up and dressed... The sing-song has ended and annoyance has begun to set up camp.

"My stomach hurts." "My legs hurt"."I hate this bed... it makes my neck hurt"... and the cherry on top... "I only got FIVE MINUTES of SLEEP!!! I'm too tired to go to school."

In case you were counting... that's about 4 shots from his side iron. Each one falling on partially deaf, fully agitated ears.

I fire my first actual shot - FLICK On goes the overhead light! It only drives him further underground... but lets him know that I'm not playing around anymore...

The second - WHOOSH!!! Off comes the covers!

He sits up... squints his eyes and reaches for his trusty lead slinger... grabs the neatly folded clothing and throws each item to different spots around the room...

I take a deep breath, count to 204 (or something like that) and tell him again to get dressed... I then disengage... leave the room and retreat to the kitchen to fuel my cup with Folgers and Caramel Macchiato Cream... step outside for the oh so necessary morning Nico-Puff... regain my senses and return to the battlefield once more. Only to find that Madison has entered the ranks of Early Morning Crapper and is now wandering aimlessly about the room looking for socks.

DAMMIT... I forgot about socks... AGAIN!

"These socks don't fit me anymore... they're too small"...

"Then why are they in the basket... they need to be put in the bag in the hall..."

(we have a bag we keep in the hall that we put all of the "outgrown" stuff in... One day we may actually take it down to the goodwill...)

"... here... just wear these then..."

Gordon snatches them from my hand... "No, those are mine. She has her OWN socks..."

Eventually the sock thing gets worked out... and now Gordon has socks and pants on... but not a short OR a long sleeved shirt... He can't find them. I tell him that he HAD two shirts... the ones he threw all over the room. The wall monster swallowed them whole when he tossed 'em and now they're nowhere to be seen. Its not THAT big of a room... yet they've managed to vanish into thin air.

He sits on his bed and whines because he can't find a shirt to wear. I find the hair brush and do Maddie's hair while I'm pointing to all the other shirts in the room he could wear. One by one... pow... bang.. boom... he shoots them all down!!! Maddie starts to whine because I'm brushing too hard and pulling her hair. I kiss her head and apologize... Gordon digs a shirt from the dirty clothes hamper and puts it on... along with a gallon of Axe Spray.

I send Maddie to brush her teeth... but Gordon's in there. He's putting gel in his hair and brushing it this ridiculous way that only he seems to think is cool... but at least he's brushing it. Maddie starts to cry... Gordon used HER tooth brush and she now refuses to brush her teeth. I try to explain to her that this is the 5th toothbrush she's been given in 2 months time... to just rinse it and brush her teeth. She cries... and remains committed to her boycott.

Gordon is now dressed, his hair is combed, his teeth are brushed, I hand him his back pack and jacket. He registers his objection to jacket wearing and I tell him he can't take his football to school because he'll lose it. He glares. I tell him again to put on his jacket... He puts it on and informs me that he'll just take it off when he gets down stairs. I go for the trick shot... I call to mom and ask her to make sure Gordon wears his jacket... to which she replies... "Oh, I'm sure he'll put it on once he gets outside and feels the 30 degree air hit."

Has she not been paying attention??? He'd sooner freeze his little arse right off... than wear the jacket I just made him take to school!

Madison is gagging in the bathroom as I'm cleaning her glasses for the second time... the first time, there were still smudges... Mom calls to the kids that its time to go... Gordon walks as slowly as possible down the stairs... Maddie slips on her backpack and rushes past Gordon who sticks his foot out to attempt an 'accidental tripping'... she makes it down safely... Gordon still sloooooooowly straggles down the steps... in a last ditch effort to piss EVERYONE off... he has now emptied his ammo and re-holstered his hardware.

Eventually he makes it out the door and into the black chevy tru-xi where my irritated mother waits for him to sulk into his seat. I watch them ride off into the sunrise... turn on my heels and head back to the homestead...

I nuke my now Iced Cafe' Delight to a more AM respectable temperature, re-lite my half smoked sin-stick and breathe a heavy sigh of relief that I have 23 and 1/2 hours before I get to do it all over again.

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Sun, 05 Sep 2010 14:55:42 -0700 Dream Seed http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/dream-seed http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/dream-seed

Dream Seed

by Danielle Thuney Walker on Wednesday, January 6, 2010 at 2:50am

A simplistic beginning
Innocent as the dawn
Her heart not up for bidding
With purity forgone.

Encumbrance bombarding
And keeping them apart
Inhibitions guarding
His antiquated heart.

A solitary notion
Shared between two souls
Divided by the ocean
And secrets left untold.

The Universe imposes
A most quixotic scheme
And carefully enclosed it
Deep within a dream.

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Sat, 28 Aug 2010 11:03:30 -0700 Sweet Salvation http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/sweet-salvation http://daniwalk3r.posterous.com/sweet-salvation

Sweet Salvation

by Danielle Thuney Walker on Friday, January 8, 2010 at 4:33am

As I sat in the dim light of my bedroom tonight... listening to the rhythmic sounds of Gordon and Maddie, asleep in their beds... I crept over to the closet, reached in and freed Loretta, a classical, nylon six string Takamine, from her hardshell cocoon. As usual, only minimal tuning was necessary. I can recall only a handful of gigs where she stubbornly refused to stay in line... and most of those were due to new strings. A small child on Easter Sunday twitches and scratches less... and though I tried to keep the 'Changing of the Strings' to a minimum... I did have to do it more than just once a year.

Pluck - turn, pluck - turn - pluck, pluck... strum... and we were ready to go. I didn't play any song in particular, for tonight wasn't about performing... it wasn't about any song or lyric or note, it was quite simply the vibration. The sweet and gentle purr of slick nickel and nylon resinating inside the rosewood and against my chest is a feeling like no other. As my fingers pulled and lightly grazed each perfectly braided strand... I could feel each of my chakras... one by one... falling back into place.

My head rested on the pillow, my back on the floor, Loretta laying across me as I closed my eyes... and then let my hands breathe life into her still strings... My fingers glided along the frets without pause or persuasion. I pulled up anchor, set the sails and let her take me to that special place my spirit goes when I am with her. She is my Captain... and together we have sailed the vast galaxies of my soul.

There is no earthly act or place that can equal the tranquil lucidity I have discovered with her. She has been the co-author of many songs. She has heard my laughter, caught many of my tears and put my heart to music.

Countless nights, I would awake with a song frantically attempting to hammer its self free from my brain... with pencil and scratch paper in hand... I would find her patiently waiting for her enlistment. But tonight... tonight was just about being. Breathing. Resting. Still.

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