If this works its really cool....you can get your own here.....www.projectplaylist.com

If not - mine is on my writer's cafe page, and my multiply page and my myspace page. Everywhere but here....yup.

Finally a rare moment to myself in the midst of the vortex that has become life in Tamsterville - where our heroine often finds herself thrown from the spinning wheel...picking curled cedar shavings from her furry ah...better stop there. I'm trying to be gentle this week.

I honestly don't know why I am still deemed 'interesting' by the passersby, and the wonderful few who still grace me with kind words when its been sooo long since I've returned the favor. I used to visit daily, but now my time is spent in the menial, the mundane and lately the incredibly sad moments that eclipse future hopes and dreams...and spare blogging time. My family is dragging...no longer rising early to pray but back to the blur of three people preparing for the world in less than forty five minutes - sometimes I don't comb my hair before I leave...my son eats cereal in the car...the down time I try to sneak in eclipsed by taxes, and loan closings and the ever needy - the ever stupid - the ever bleating sheep who only follow...follow...follow and I have become their snapping cowering dog ceaselessly circling - attempting to keep them as one without bruising any tender sheepish flesh. And choking on woolly hairballs. Funny how that 'morning blog' I gave up for better pursuits was the thing that was fueling my creative muse...she's run away again. Lurking in the darker places of my misfiring brain.

Next week is filled with myriad tasks, appointments, issues and I will face them without the benefit of my anchor...who leaves for Michigan on Saturday morning and will be back late the following Sunday. Its never good when he leaves....And my guilt rises noxious in the back of my throat. I am ashamed to be upset...his dad is unable to use his legs and Dave is going home for a week to do things like help his father to the bathroom...how dare I complain? Indeed. My true colors bleed through my skin like too much india ink on the tip of a pen...cruel and indelible...

And here I am...wanting to be strong for a friend who's grown son is missing....yes, detectives...police reports - that 'suicide' word - it too is lodged in my throat when I think of the possibilities. Another friend attempting to protect a daughter in danger....I so want to ease the burdens of those I love yet all I can do is shut the door quietly and cry into my pillow...because with the words I have - I am voiceless and powerless in the face of pain....

And yes, Virginia Tech burns a hole in my heart too. I'm the mother of a 'difficult' boy...and I have peered into the future enough to be fierce when it comes to raising my children. To move them forward when I can barely breathe. To smile when I am screaming inside...to remain sober, diligent and 'damn nosey' because there are always signs before the disaster...and as long as I breathe I vehemently stand against that darkness - because I have lived in that darkness and I wish it on no one.

I want to be a child of hope...and not a child of pain...

I wish the same for you.

(Tam exits the page considering the ramifications of cloning - since right now there is enough flesh on her for at least two dogs....yup....)

So here I sit in the relative cool of the morning. The house quiet except for the chortling parrot and that odd gurgling noise the waterheater makes after one two many attempts at a hot shower. I have time to ponder the complexities of life as I know it….Spin off on some heavenly tangent – and here I am slogging through baseline physicality and temporal survival.

I believe no subject is taboo. If we refuse to discuss it, explain it, understand it – we give it power to ruin our lives. That being said, proceed with caution cuz you know Tam’s ‘going there…”

I’ve been a girl all my life and therefore have dealt with most of the things that make me uniquely ‘female’ and have taken them in stride. Admittedly, I have been intolerant with my sisters who cried and whined and lamented, waving their hormonal crutches in the air like feudal banners – declaring first war on mankind, then tossing out the kerchief of defeat whilst sucking bon bons and waxing morose over the latest chick flick. Being the mental thing I am – I never took stock in one more crimson puffy point of irritation on my fair freckled face….the bra was a pisser but funny on the dog’s head…and I never needed an excuse to let my emotions out…My motto was always – either grow a set of cajones or shut the …. Up.

But now…the past few years have brought such humbling and unsettling change. Sure – I could tweeze that new patch of black sprouting fur from either chin without blinking. Sure the rack is more extreme ski slope – guy’s look at my knees a lot now – but the other stuff…Headaches that make me want to pound my skull against a large rock….up all night with baseball bat and fiftieth rewrite of last will and testament paranoia…dizziness on the scale of all night ride in the drier…and wondering where the hell my ankle bones went…all lightly peppered with the worst rage I have ever felt in my LIFE over nothing…with no warning…. Here I am thinking – why didn’t God make me a Tommy…I could deal with standing to pee. Scratching in public. Void of thought in the shower….dreaming of Hummers…yup. Cuz this uniquely female crap ain’t workin’ so good. And I have no pity committee in my house of testosterone with whom I may commiserate whilst viewing Steel Magnolias and Thelma and Louise.

So how do you deal with it? This thing called female? This thing called aging? This thing called life as we know it? Just when I grow accustomed to the grind they change the sandpaper. Perhaps I need chocolate, green chile, wine….anything to dull the thrumming knowledge that I cannot go back twenty years…life moves always in fast forward…and today I am dragged on my face through it….

Peace. For those of you who pray – I ask you to keep the Boehms in your prayers. My husband’s dad is now hospitalized. I won’t ask you how to pray or to pray for a specific outcome….just agree with what God tells you to pray for…and that prayer will be answered.

Tomorrow is Easter. I wish you peace and joy and blessings. My family will be celebrating with the GF’s family and I know it will be wonderful. For all my ranting – my life is really good….Beautiful boys, a loving faithful husband. Gainful employment…and yes, YOU who bless me with your humor, and your words….PEACE!

As for those of you who commented Biblically regarding "JOY and CELEBRATION" yes, and amen. Joy manifests itself in so many ways and certainly dancing and singing in God's presence (didn't Solomon pay worshippers to do that 24/7 in the temple?) Yes, do your thing. I don't think nekked in church would work - but definitely we have been given the gift of experiencing deep deep JOY. Reverence is part of that. (SMH at Monty Python...you're makin' me giggle!) I love it when you people talk amongst yourselves on my blog!

So we were sitting there sharing earbuds and jamming out to Aha’s “Take on Me” when it happened….the voice of reason delivered from an aging bipedal protector of all that is adult and therefore mundane. “Thanks for keeping me sleep while making all your silly noises out here.” In an instant I am again self aware of my status as adult – caught in the mire of stupidity. I’ve grown into it well. From the age of eight when Mom said “I want you to buy me a real card for my birthday” (Translated: your creativity is stupid) To the seventh grade dance when I in my funky pink polka dot bell bottoms and tied shirt was gettin’ down with my bad self only to be told “You dance stupid.” (No translation needed) to the shipwrecked abandonment of first passion leading to wild utterances between lovers leading to him calling me her name…(I can’t let go anymore…How stupid)

And yet I can do the eight to five with one big earring and a slab of bacon betwixt my canines and no one steps forward….perhaps they revel in the truth…Tam looks pretty stupid.

Bear with me as I chip out a thought with my limited vision and my damaged dendrites; because words are a razor and I’m committed to no bloodletting. Be gentle when wielding your tongue over the soap bubble filaments of a psyche; because while that outer child may be a little silly, a little awkward, and yes even by your definition a little stupid…when we squeeze our size sixteen egos into the acceptable size seven adulthood life – unable to breathe under the constraints of normal acceptable mindsets and methodologies our inner child huddles for warmth in the back of our heads. And words spoken become warmth…or destruction.

Perhaps I am a stupid woman who cannot create beauty with a pen, cannot dance, and has the sensuality of a peanut…perhaps I am stupid. But I refuse to cauterize the flow of a dream with the point of my firey tongue. And I challenge you…when was the last time you dared….to be stupid…

I woke up with Weird Al’s ‘Dare to be Stupid’ in my head this morning. It is my mantra for the day. I simply cannot be an adult 24/7. It doesn’t fit me…and I hope you are able to let your inner child sneak out for at least a thirty second laugh…come on…do it…

I welcome Sandy, Paula70, Tai, Mimi38 and Leo to the page. That's all I could check before my intermmitent connection veered to nonfunctional.

peace! I promise to be an adult tomorrow....

Uh yeah. Things Tammy doesn't like to do - besides most sexual endeavors as many of my more 'erotic' blogfriends know - (as well as that wonderful man I married....If I wash your socks - I love you. If you want anything else from me - consider flowers, a meal somewhere besides Soup'r Salad and alchohol....word. Also consider cleaning something in the house. ANYTHING! perhaps your damn pile of books on my table. Maybe you could paint a wall. How about FINDING the BACK YARD) (yes he's on the list...sorry)

So Tammy doesn't do - impromptu appearances. Tammy has a face for radio. That's why she is an accountant in a small company rather than STEVIE NICKS PROTEGE. Dang. So I get an email from my boss that I have to go today to a hearing at the law offices. Me in my jeans and hippie shirt. Didn't curl the hair. No lipstick in the purse. damitol.  Oh yes. HAD I KNOWN I would have worn the GREEN OR BLUE POWER SUIT but NO! I get no warning. Thank God I am not paid for my appearance. (although Dave might give YOU money if my face suddenly showed up on a milk carton...I'm on his list too. Sigh.)  So I am deeply disturbed - totally unprepared and stressed to the hilt. AH. Must be Tuesday.

And here's the serious side. Yesterday even though I got into the yellfest to end all yellfests with the small and irritable spawn -I had no erroneous chest pain - nor did I cough up any internal organs. Today? Yup - half a lung in the shower before I even soaped up - and I have a kink in my um...chestllike area. yeah. Could it be STRESS boys and girls? I need a damn vacation. I need tequila and a cabana boy named Bjorn. I need therapy. years and years of therapy on a soft couch in a quiet room....with Bjorn and amaretto. Ok.

What plays in my head while I'm in the shower...really!

Wish I was in Tijuana

Eating barbequed iguana....

Well not really - just experiencing technical difficulties.

Spawn tried to change songs in IPOD - got USB not RECOGNISED error message. Tammy the gentle ran adware check - found ugly things. ran check again. Ugly thing still there. tried to go on line through adware software. Saw many more ugly things pop up. ran adware again. deleted uglies. did the cold start. ugly thing still there. Tammy the gentle ate dinner at the pc and then went to church. When she got home - she let the BANSHEE run the checkers and the virus crap. And the flipping ad.supporter is still there and Tam is a bone head because she cant' figure out how to save her novel to a CD and now has three seperate CD's - two that wont open in word and one that will open in word but shows a "Ghost story" IE - 94 pages of NOTHING.  yeah. 94 blank pages. SO NOW I AM EVER SO STRESSED. I HAVE ISSUES MAN.

thank you for listening. the novel still resides on my hard drive - and now on paper but the better option is a CD back up right? Well that's what I think - the PC however does not agree.

So I was busy doing that and probably will be busy doing that after class tonight - so I plan to catch up with you all tomorrow after i put my fangs and my hackles down. We also laid off one of our IT people yesterday so my 'free consultant' is gone....sigh. (stomps off page singing - If I only had a brain...)

Uh yeah. Things Tammy doesn't like to do - besides most sexual endeavors as many of my more 'erotic' blogfriends know - (as well as that wonderful man I married....If I wash your socks - I love you. If you want anything else from me - consider flowers, a meal somewhere besides Soup'r Salad and alchohol....word. Also consider cleaning something in the house. ANYTHING! perhaps your damn pile of books on my table. Maybe you could paint a wall. How about FINDING the BACK YARD) (yes he's on the list...sorry)

So Tammy doesn't do - impromptu appearances. Tammy has a face for radio. That's why she is an accountant in a small company rather than STEVIE NICKS PROTEGE. Dang. So I get an email from my boss that I have to go today to a hearing at the law offices. Me in my jeans and hippie shirt. Didn't curl the hair. No lipstick in the purse. damitol.  Oh yes. HAD I KNOWN I would have worn the GREEN OR BLUE POWER SUIT but NO! I get no warning. Thank God I am not paid for my appearance. (although Dave might give YOU money if my face suddenly showed up on a milk carton...I'm on his list too. Sigh.)  So I am deeply disturbed - totally unprepared and stressed to the hilt. AH. Must be Tuesday.

And here's the serious side. Yesterday even though I got into the yellfest to end all yellfests with the small and irritable spawn -I had no erroneous chest pain - nor did I cough up any internal organs. Today? Yup - half a lung in the shower before I even soaped up - and I have a kink in my um...chestllike area. yeah. Could it be STRESS boys and girls? I need a damn vacation. I need tequila and a cabana boy named Bjorn. I need therapy. years and years of therapy on a soft couch in a quiet room....with Bjorn and amaretto. Ok.

What plays in my head while I'm in the shower...really!

Wish I was in Tijuana

Eating barbequed iguana....