I am procrastinating, again. There are tons of projects I need to tackle and finish and here I sit noodling around on my blog. I want to excuse myself by saying that every creative person hims and haws before getting down to business, that it's natural to avoid things that require a little more energy than we wish to expend; and the classic excuse...I always end up finishing what needs to be done so I shouldn't worry. Those statements are all true, but when it comes to writing, it requires time for rewriting and rewriting, which means I don't have time to waste.

Okay, note to self:

1. carve out time to write about my new cowgirl boots and the implication of owning them

2. finish the two poems I started this weekend

3. rewrite the Rhino piece for Erin before she fires me

4. respond to Sandra's comments and do all the writing she's expecting by Wednesday

5. prepare your weekly calendar for the hectic tasks ahead

5.5. stop worrying about the filming on Tuesday

6. stop thinking about men and kisses

7. stop eating all those damned carbs, just stop

8. remember to dust your room once in a while

9. start on the paper that's due in a couple weeks

10. write down everything you've been forgetting to do

Okay, now I think I can/should get back to work so I can blog again, someday.

girls on the boulevard

aglow under the neon

fatherless girls

walk and wait

unprotected

swish, swish

he’ll do it

he’ll fill her with

his DNA and a few bills

then vanish

she’ll remain

vacant

hungry

homeless

sold

we won't see it

we don't watch that

we refuse to go there

our lives don't intersect

hers

but she's there

everyday.

I know that 'Black Place' Georgia O’Keefe painted - not the one in New Mexico. I’ve been there. That day, at the Whitney, was a flashback to the scariest place I've ever been. Georgia painted canvas after canvas of haunting dark images of her nervous breakdown. Where once she embodied vibrant happy flowers, now in that room, on that day, she's filled with dark canyons. On that day, I saw a familiar friend. Georgia had nearly fallen into that endless cavern beneath valleys of coal and grays. She had seen it firsthand, I know. What once delighted her senses vanished. She slipped, barely able to hold onto a crumbling shale face with flimsy fingernails, exhausted in that treacherous terrain. Sliding down deeper, cut up, unable to find a place to hold onto, terrified; no signs pointing the way home. Suspended, black isolation.

That room, on that day, held out a life preserver - where the seas once threatened to drown me. Along the streets of Manhattan, a shadow loomed in the distance. He was there. He tried to push me down like a schoolyard bully. He stalked me, tried to rob me, bam, bam- beat me down into a soppy puddle. Ha! This bully underestimated me. You are nothing more than a grain of sand between my toes, easily washed away and barely bothersome. What a fool. Poor, sad dragon. I pity you dragon. Your flames are nothing more than a whisper of smoke. You are small and pathetic now. You are nothing more than a lizard I can crush with just one brush of my foot. You should fear me dragon!

A little bout of insomnia has me up way later than normal, and as a result, I happen to catch some tasteless, late-night TV that I wouldn't usually watch. Well, last night I'm embarrassed to admit that I watched an episode of Howard Stern, yes I know, ick. He was playing a version of the dating game and had three women (aged 23-35) on that wanted to win a date with Artie Lange, a 300+ pound comedian/sidekick of Howard's. Okay, so he's a little on the heavy set side, everyone deserves love, right?

One by one, each girl was asked a series of questions, like: How many sexual partners have you had? What kind of sexual acts do you like to perform on men? What's your favorite sex act? Are you shaved down there? And the list goes on. One by one, each girl answered the barrage of questions - so intimate and personal I'm sure their Grandmothers were passing out right and left or rolling over in their graves. I'm sure their admission of enjoying being pounded hard from behind made their mothers and fathers so proud!

As I watched this spectacle, I couldn't help wonder why in the world any woman would go on Howard Stern in the first place and furthermore, why on earth would they answer any of those questions willingly and sober? Is Artie Lange, a fat, vulgar, obsessive-compulsive drug addict & drunk such a catch that women have to stoop to such low levels to snag that prize? It was so clear that not only Artie lacked self-esteem and human decency and looked like a depressed mess, but these women had to lack any amount of self-worth to compete for him! What does that say about them? What does that say about women in our culture? If you're fuckable and willing to do anything to prove it, you're a good little obedient girl. (Pat pat) Thank you, thank you! Please, yes, pick me. I'll do anything! Come on!!!

Women need to wake up! There is no man on earth worth disrespecting yourself over. Grow up! Grow a backbone! Stand up and shout, I'm not going to take it anymore and mean it! Be a self-respecting woman willing to walk away from anyone and anything that wants to tear you down and chip away at your self-esteem. Trust me, they aren't worth it. The cost is too high. If you don't end up feeling like a used and discarded object, then you might end up with a nice case of Hep C or the clap! You would be better off staying home, painting your toenails or cleaning your bathroom or reading, dare I say a book, than spend a hot second with a self loathing, male chauvinist pig whose only interest in you is whether or not you're going to suck his dick.

Artie said that his perfect date would be watching the game with his buddies, playing a little poker, drinking beers and at the END of the night, his woman would come over to fuck him. Really? Now ladies, that's a real winner! I can see why you would line up to capture that gem.

Answer me this: What is wrong with our culture and how did we get here? Worse yet, how is it these women don't see how degraded and exploited they are?