an important past expected to be forgotten...

When I found all the answers, all the questions had changed...Paulo Coelho

my father was a black hole. the moment he passed it was like he sucked all remnants, memories and voice from all those he had touched during his life. no one spoke of one bothered to tell me who my father was or had been.

i have a handful of memories i can fit neatly in my pocket...what i remember is all i know.

every year like clock work, i try to pull information from the lips of family members. no one speaks. in fact they ignore me. do you know how hard it is to go through life knowing nothing of the man who made you? i remember the first year i tried to play detective...i searched the internet for signs of my father's past to no avail...finally ended up getting a small tidbit from my younger brother and step sis. not enough though.

so every year on his birthday and father's day i cry. i soak the pillow and then i'm good for a spell. anger and frustration hit me hard this year though...

i'm trying to figure out why i have the issues i have...self exploration led me following a sadness back to him... so like the dummy i am, i tried, again, to get something out of my family. nada. ignored. IGNORED! cried at work the entire day. i have ghost roots...they come and they go. sometimes i'm whole...sometimes i'm not. i fade with the questions, exist when i remember.

do you know how infuriating it is that my questions float around in the air and never stick? i had to run yesterday. i had to run hard and fast until my heart beat caught up with the heaving in my chest.

the minute i stopped running liliquoi moon by me'shell ndegeocello began and the tears started flowing...a sign from dad?

mama never cared much 'bout dreams
or love
she said it reminded her of my daddy

my daddy
he Loved to fly
he'd say
death will come fast
i wanna be free
and closer to the sky

Love grows cold,
lonely and tired
on the wings of angels
i want to fly

daddy’s just the blood in my veins
shadows in my mind
as i'd watch my mama drown in her tears
he'd say:

“i can’t promise you Love
and i can't promise you me"
in my heart of hearts
i yearn to fly

it's gotten to the point where any mention of my father will bring instant tears...i crave stories of him that much. i'm expected to forget. they assume i understood the rules...i never quite caught on though. no one understands my needs to know. there are selfish expectations that i should make peace with uncertainty and move the hell on.

the fact that i consider it all a work in progress means my frustration isn't leaving anytime soon. it grows and shrinks like the tides, existing in an ocean too big to ignore.

vincent e. thomas

today is my father's birthday. 

always here, never forgotten...

loved & missed always,


conversations with slabs of meat

yesterday was the day of the bbq.

i went to not one, but TWO bbq's that consisted of meat, meat AND MO MEAT! (my tummy hurts still...hours later. help.)

first bbq was the guy and i's ploy to get friends we heart dearly together for some bonding time in marina del rey. we set up shop under a pretty tree (sans freakazoid pooping birds) that overlooked the yacht club shore and went to town on turkey burgers, pasta salad, baked/grilled potatoes with a peruvian yellow sauce that made my tummy squeal with joy and hotness (that's a spicy meatball!) carne asada (because la bbqs just aren't complete without that) yummy fruit and other goodies. 

we feasted until our guts gangsta-like yelled " for real" and then we spent a couple hours playing with the token child of the group...just a couple of couples...hanging around...enjoying life.

isn't that what it's really all about? the guy and i got our first grill too, which i have named herby the luv grub. i think you're officially an honest to goodness adult when you have a grill. i'm just saying...

after that par-tay i headed to a work bbq hans solo.the early birds were lookin' at me like i had just stomped on a baby for arriving late, but quickly they calmed and we all settled in for some more grub time and very interesting conversations circling around that age old favorite topic "he said, she said". i LOVE those conversations! men and women are so different..those differences fuel the comedy routine i occasionally bring to the table of goofiness. 

i haven't had a post where i break down events in awhile, but i've been having the most lovely weekends...don't foresee those little bad girls stoppin' anytime soon either. (knock on wood) summer's lookin pretty nice so far ya'll...pretty nice indeedy.

*pauper time in the hizzouze!


i am on a 100% spending freeze. this is serious folks. do you know how many different emails i receive a day listing sales i can not participate in? it's cruel, i'll admit, but it's taught me a few things...

at first i was really bummed and ashamed with myself...being 29 in all, it would be nice if i could go out to dinner when i want to or buy a pimp pinky ring if my little heart desires but that ain't life for me as i know it and that's cool. that's aight...

it's been 3 weeks since i went to the pauper zone and i've noticed changes that i'm kind of proud of:

brain leaks

going crazy over nuthin'

i have to find joy in the little things or the big things (like car payments, money for food and shelter) are going to eat a sister alive. this morning i found a tiny bit of joy in ironing. i don't know why but the sounds of an iron's steam make me float a little. anyone else ever feel that way? i heart the soothing sounds of a good whoosh whoosh. my coffee maker makes the same sounds. two appliances in the home making the same noise has to mean something.

i was a designer in my former life (hold hand over flame)

i'm a little beast when it comes to devouring the pages of the ny times at work. it's just my little escape act i try to do every couple of days. recently while skimming the home & garden section i came across LONNY , an online design mag, and fell in love. yes, most of the stuff in there is way over my price range...heck it's over my dream price range, BUT it makes me happy to computer window shop and that's all that really matters, now isn't it?

ugly embraced

have you seen those adorably ugly things known as, you guessed it, ugly dolls? i'm kind of obsessed with them. some day one lucky kid will give me one and i'll love the ugly out of that thing.

ps quite strange considering i HATE stuffed animals of all sorts...make me arse twitch. there's just something snazzy about these suckers i can't really put my finger on.

(chapter 19) The Casting Couch: Myth or Mack Daddy

post #2...

i have so much work ahead of me. i can't lie. i've been second guessing my decision to post pieces of the book. i realize it's the only way i can start seeing this book clearly, though. i won't lie. i'm a bit disheartened and scared to share, but a promise is a promise.

i'm stacking up a couple of months to sort out the words i've written and try again. this is now a reference point to be used as blackmail later when my book is actually publish ready. thank you friends for your brains. seriously... this book needed your red pens. 

background info i should have mentioned in the first post

structure = a post from blog, followed by words inspired by said blog, followed by lessons learned and picture. (i like picture books)

my book: an introduction...

so this is it...this is my baby that i've worked on for a year and a bunch of change. i figured i'd start with my introduction. this week i'll post three  two different parts and pieces from the book. i would love any and all critiques, suggestions, comments, opinions, and most importantly i would LOVE for you to tell your friends and friends' friends to read.

thank you so much for your help and support. don't be surprised if those who comment pop up in my thank you pages.


Dreams are crazy, funny things…

They can shape your life, direct it, guide it, hold it in place. Basically, bend you in any direction it so chooses and call you its bitch. I don’t know if anyone has ever mentioned the downside of a dream to me but it’s the unexpected surprises of my life’s dreams--the good and the bad--that have molded me into the person I am today.

Many moons ago, as a wee lassie, I remember sitting in front of the television, legs crossed, hands holding up head, watching some amazing movie and thinking the people on screen were the most amazing gift-givers in the world. I was blown away that I could zone out and forget who and where I was…I was the person on screen. I was experiencing what they were experiencing

uncle sam needs your help

i have some truly great people in my corner.

the guy, annie, j, b, brigid, melissa, nicole and the countless others who have dropped kind words thank you from the bottom of my butt. (i never really understood the bottom/heart thing)

next week i plan to release three short excerpts from my book. my 13 rejection letters have been good lessons... i'm increasing the word count on my baby (i.e. the memoir) to 40,000 words and looking for some feedback. that's where ya'll come in.

next monday and wednesday i'll post and if you can find the time PLEASE have your friends and your friends' friends read and tell them comments & suggestions are welcomed. i want my baby to grow and i realize that means i need to put myself out there and let the world have its way with me...(that's what she said).

did it work m.a.? no?

anyways see you all on monday. have a great weekend!!!


the writer

ironic verbosity

i tend to hear a snazzy word and that snazzy word then becomes the core of a post...this post's word is verbose... thanks to mateo the great for that one ;)

# 1 reason people tell me they just can't read my posts are too long and i write every day so there are too many.

how ironic that my now finished book is too short. i have writing assignments every night to add more, more, MORE TRICK! to the book. this is essential to landing a dang agent. i'm sure they're looking at my 28,000 word memoir and thinking "amateur chick needs a good bitch slappin' dose of reality!"

luckily, this gal can write her little butt off about this stuff. i've taken a long enough break to look at it all with fresh perspective. so if my posts are sometimes scattered, ya'll will know why. i have to focus like a gassy person doing sit ups.

...wrote 2,000 words yesterday. 

captain of my soul

there are moments when we can give in and start to believe the worst about ourselves--a worst that consists of thoughts punching our brains telling us we're undeserving. last week i was really sinking into that shameful hole. like robin williams in what dreams may come, i had entered a grey hell similar to the one his wife existed in. i could feel my mind's wheels slowly stopping and the flicker of light in my eyes fading. that point is a scary one because you don't care that you're losing something precious. all i could see or accept was my current challenging state--no rainbows in sight...

then something kinda wonderful happened. i watched invictus and learned how nelson mandela was able to unite his people. it left me inspired and then some.

it wasn't long before i was able to start daydreaming again (that's what usually happens to me when i get even a smudge of hope) then i started to think about a future that consisted of kids...thought about how i'd feel if they came to me asking if they should give up. i knew i'd want to push them and show them just how much i believed in them. i knew i had to demand the same for myself so that someday i could speak with my children honestly, without hypocrisy about such matters of the heart.

so i'm taking the criticism and turning it into a big ole bowl of self improvement.

there are women i admire immensely like oprah, lisa ling and soledad o'brien. these are incredibly accomplished people with something to say...they have actual platforms that help their awesomeness. i know they're not sitting at home writing sob stories into their journals about what they can't do. so it's time to start pushing to get into that league.

don't get confused though. my writing will stay the same. i admire the success and sense of accomplishment they posses. i'm not saying my writing will cease being the silly fluff that it is. it may be a far off cry for those looking for the next poet laureate or pulitzer prize winner, but i know i have something up in that noggin that can be dished out with gusto...with a voice distinctly my own.

after a weekend of laundry time and day dreaming, i've decided this is a good place to be. it seems to me uniqueness comes in handy for those looking for their own piece of the pie in the sky success story.



...i'm a dreamer of dreams...not so much a doer it seems.
i can recognize taste and talent like the back of my hand (well at least i think so!) but actually producing that ish solo is another thing.

that's when friends with ample talent come in. this little friend of mine is pretty much the bees' knees of beautiful design. in all aspects of the darn ish. reading her blog and visiting her pad is always a visual treat for me.

in my next life, i want to be a piece of art that hangs in her home. just saying...

pocket protectors

i got to hang with a little man this weekend who is a fellow green luver (which means i think he's fascinating and brilliant.) i just found out he's the shiznet when it comes to academics. basically, ole boy is a genius prodigy doogie howser type of kiddo. he scored these crazy banana scores on some placement test all whipper snappers have to take in cali. as a proud card carrying member of nerd gangstas i solute the little ones out there who love to read and love to learn. 

my heart warmed when this kid started talking about dinosaurs with tongue twisting that moment, i desperately wanted him to put on some glasses and then shove them up his nose. i think God prevented that from happening...he knew my heart would have burst open and snorted.

the turn: a simile

the turn is like having a wedgie all day and finally getting to pick that sucker after hours of total butt torturous hell...

we wait for the turn...that sweet moment when luck hops up onto some kind of wind of change and blows right into your eyeballs. i can't lie. this week hasn't been a thrill on blueberry hill folks. i kind of felt like sophia from the color purple, rocking back and forth, looking TOE up saying, "i's feelin' real down. i's feelin' mighty bad."

then i felt a tiny breeze...and received a phone call from doc chow saying hey no need to worry about that hoo hoo of yours. she's fine. no bad cells...nothing cancerous-like to be worried about...go about your life tish! frolic in the fields of fun knowing your hoo hoo will live to vaginate another day. (yes i totally made that word up) and i breathed a sigh of frickin' fantastic relief.

first smile of the day = 4:45pm

some other spiffy things happened after that to make me smile and laugh and feel awesome which is awesome considering i came home and opened up yet another rejection letter from an agent. oh happy day-ay

encouraging words are helping. i have a lot of reading to do. a shat load of writing to do and some advice to take from fellow writers who have sent me nuggets of information to mull over and figure out.

do you dream your father's dreams?

day 30...not doing so hot on the writing confidence front, but lucky for me i have darling little daily emails that come in and create a tiny bit of hope...a tiny bit.

Throughout the hallowed ages those in the unseen have always marveled at the accomplishments and creations of humankind. Whether a sandcastle or a skyscraper; a painting or a poem; they're humbled by your ability to reflect, to engineer, to craft, and to create something that has never before existed within time and space.

But it's not the creation that impresses; these all exist here to the nth degree. It's the persistence and determination of the seemingly mortal dreamer who steadfastly holds a new thought in mind, either of the creation or of its inevitable success, and moves with it, even while the rest of the world is content dreaming their father's dreams.

This is what is admired; not just because it's so rare, but because it is so, even when such innovative potential lies within all.

Cool, huh?

The Universe


is it gumption or stupidity that keeps me going? that's the big question for the week. i received two more rejection letters in the mail. i swear my thick skin is slowly deteriorating...i'm developing this rare disease called "thin skin wimpy-itis". symptoms include throwing one's body onto the floor when seeing words like "no, sorry, lack of interest, lack of enthusiasm and coitus" (i've just always hated that word.) vowing to never write again and constantly reaching out for words of encouragement from anyone and everyone including the maintenance man in my building. (every little bit helps!)

forget writing a book! pimping the book is the hard part. i invested a year (plus a couple) to this writing project and that year so far can be summarized as boo boo stank if we're going at it like these agents have been.

lucky for me i have a couple (and i mean a couple! it's 2 actually...) readers that have been leaving me sweet messages to keep pushing forward. that's what i'm working with right now. melissa and annie, thank you so much for helping me keep the faith.

i'm trying to keep a giraffe perspective...

the other day i kept seeing images of the long-necked beasts and so i looked it up online:

To see a giraffe, suggests that you need to consider the overall picture. Take a broader view on your life and where it is headed.

so that's what i'm attempting to do...stretching the neck out as far as i can...and hoping my recent thin skin issues won't snap the darn thing.

Give me some new religion

you would think i would have gotten the hint by now...

my whole life i've tried different churches and always come away with some freakishly weird horror story that scars me for a couple of years until some new person suckers me into going back. it's a serious conundrum...the way religious folks gravitate to me and try to save the heathen of all heathens...not really (unless you're talking to my mother)

b can totally vouch for me on this one...we can be sitting outside enjoying our day when a dude will come and start flirting...not even 5 minutes in he'll ask if i want to go to church with him. i swear i have "corrupted" stamped on my forehead. i'm the maiden in distress 2010 version.

so yeah...i've had some weird luv triangle issues with dudes i've dated and the Big guy upstairs...once a guy cheated and when we went to his church counseling to discuss he told the preacher he was just on a higher religious level than me so he chose a chick who was on that was delightful watching the preacher verbally bitch slap him for justifying cheating that way.

something's different with the current guy though. i've actually started hitting up a church with him and i dig it. it's this beautiful catholic church in santa monica....pretty music, nice folks that don't make me stand up as they push my forehead back and dance around me (permanently scarred i'm afraid.)

the other day the guy asked if i wanted to go up for a blessing as he ate his cookie and drank his wine stuff...he's asked me before but i've always been too scared of the head push...this time i mustered up some courage and decided it was time to thank the Big one for answering some prayers i had made. i stood in the line, hand on heart like the priest had instructed me and waited as i inched closer and closer. the guy was right behind me...every so often i'd turn around and make sure he was still behind me. he'd giggle and say it would be alright. i got up to the front and the priest looked at me, patted me on the arm and said "you're good silly" or something along those lines...

THAT WAS IT?! all the stressing out was for nothing? i seriously almost peed my pants with glee! no "will you join the church" "hey you wanna ditch your dude and grab a drink with me" (that happened once!)

just a simple arm hit and i was g-double-o-d-good. wowzers! high five for saint monica's church! and get i'm giving myself a mental pat on the back i hear a "tish!" and turn to see my dear lovely friends ethel and courtney...they're a darn tootin' cute couple. the guy and i have noticed a lot of strange similarities between us. he's basically court...i'm ethel. (i'm a cute little asian chick!) church double dating...ROCK ON!

basically for the first time i don't want to run out of the church's doors screaming...i wouldn't say i'm a convert...there are still parts of organized religion i still haven't wrapped my head and heart around BUT it's really beautiful to go to a place where i feel a sort of peace and love...a place where they don't look at me weird for not crossing, bending, singing, clapping, or whatever else movements you're supposed to make if you're down with the One who's up.

louis this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship...

stirrup recap

just a quick howdy do to inform those women out there who are curious about lady part problems. (this is when all dudes shut down their computers and scratch their balls to make sure they still have a pair)

i got in those darn stirrups yesterday and everything went just as i expected. it hurt like a mean king crab (are those the biggest kinds?) crawled up my hoo hoo and took a big ole bite out of crime.  

chow thought he'd be clever and get me talking about my lovely oprah turkey burgers i luv to make but as soon as that hella long needle scissor thing came out i shut my trap and let my eyes zone in to that evil contraption (nice try chow!)

it was over in lickedy split time and hopefully pinch/grabs from position 2:00 and 8:00 will show that i indeed am ok...that i can knock out little ones some day and that i can chill from any future freezing processes or whatever else torture plan they have to remove bad cells from the hoo hoo. 

chow always seems to calm me down in just enough time to freak me out BUT like last time i had someone totally awesome in my corner to be there when i shuffled out of the room of doom. 

keep you posted!


ms hella hoo hoo herself

the flying tomato

how to drive tishy mad hatter loony in under 24 hours...have her car break down and tell her it's time she join that infamous group who make monthly payments on cars. 

i can honestly say i went to stressed out city, parked in a stressed out place and let the stressed out vibes consume me until i was seriously going thru panic attacks that would make worry warts of the world jealous. learning it was time to buy a new car and that i would have to purchase this new car on my very own was scary and a half but I DID IT! 

i bought a car...a 2008 toyota matrix actually and while it's not my cup of tea color wise (red and i don't really go hand in hand when it comes to vehicle choices) that ish was hella cheap and had baby step miles on it. the guy figured he could store his snow boards comfortably in the back...once i saw the little red hearts popping up where his eyes should have been i knew i had to get it...skip all that nonsense about dream cars and aesthetic bliss...i needed something practical...i needed something that wouldn't leave me stranded on a freeway at midnight...i needed something juicy. 

thus entered what i have deemed the flying tomato. (a little bit snowboard, a little bit speed demon red)

the flying tomato runs, it has cool little features that surpass my belovedly dead sebring's (may she rest in peace.)

the sebring (kizzix) couldn't be sold she was so old. i've donated her to charity and hopefully she'll be picked up this week. i'm actually going to probably more than likely (ok i will) cry my bloody eyes out when i see her getting towed away from me. that darn tootin' thing has been with me since 1999...a week before i started my freshmen year of college. so many memories...she did me proud. 

j's pretty excited i got a red waggy lookin' car. back in high school she sported a ford wagon that we lovingly referred to as the "shaggin' wagon" (circa austin powers' movies). when i described the car to her she wrote, "For real. Shaggin' wagon part deux! You gotta bump it hard to see if it farts."

i don't know if the flying tomato will have a personality...does anything new have one? i don't know, but if the thing has half the character of kizzix or the j's old ride i'll be happy.

is it weird to love or miss a tangible object that much?

ps it hurts my heart to give a way a piece of paper that says i own something in this world...i need for someone to hold me. for real. hold me.

 rest in peace my luv...

bats in the belfry

i don't know how many of you out there have ever had incessant car issues, but they drain the living snot out of you.

yesterday i sat in a ralph's grocery store parking lot on a very, very busy street and pouted/cried out of embarrassment, exhaustion, low blood sugar and frustration. you see, my car has been in out of the doc's chair one too many times.

if you do your research you learn that a lot more people are focusing on their old cars because of the craptastic economy...with that being said i'm trying to hold on to my lovely sebring for as long as my bloody knuckles will squeeze cuz that ish is paid off. no car payment...just a lot of credit card crap from the doctor's visits so i want that ish to run. yes, yes, i realize she got me all the way out to los angeles from missouri, but that was then...this is now. i need her to keep truckin'...or keep carring...whatever.

i sat in the cold yesterday thinking about what all of this means. i realize i'm in a semi-shatty issues keep popping up, i'm not hearing back from agents...i'm trying to be really calm in the heart region...real quiet like so i can hear what the universe is trying to tell me. i just need to know what to do.

you know those financial commercials on tv where the person follows a little green path and that's their financial plan? well i want one of those for life period. just go ahead and light my path right on up...let me know what to do and i'll confidently stroll that ish like john travolta...i'll put some feva into it!

since i doubt i'll see that clear and lovely path anytime soon (damn the 20s!) i'll just continue to walk around aimlessly wondering what the heck i'm supposed to live on for the next year while i'm paying off the bits of my soul i've had to sell : )


batty girl chillin up in the belfry like a g funk loon

movies, friends and beach oh my!

oh such a lovely weekend. i spent my time hanging with a bunch of different friends including d, brigid, and b (as well as a grip of others) and each gathering was the bomb.

...saw shrek, iron man 2, sex and the city (woo to the hoo!) and prince of persia...all were rockin' good ish that i recommend. reviewers suck lately! i heard all of them were boo boo. i do not concur. i ate lovely good food and drank more than the average bear. 2 drinks for me is a record yo! i am no sailor.

i had girl time and guy time, old school friend time and new friend time...i did what i love to do most--i laughed, watched movies and napped near the ocean.

i'm meant to be near water...i'm a pisces, my nickname as a kid was "tish the fish" stuff just finds me, so when i do get to kick it at the beach it's not long before i'm snoring like a grown arse man with a hairy chest and beer gut.  i went to the beach twice...therefore, tishy got some good snoozes in. it don't get no betta...

recharging the batteries is something i've needed for a really long time. (a really long time) this holiday weekend was just what the doctor ordered.

i think i'm finally starting to go thru that magical thing people call californication...well without the fornication part :)


bodacious beach babe
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