Tag Archives: Seldom Blue

Les Liasons Dangereuses

One of my favorite lines from any book is by Margaret Atwood. “I want all my hurts to be intentional.”

It’s a personal mantra. It’s two sided to me. It means I don’t want to unintentionally cause harm or sadness. Being a human person means you do in fact do that sometimes. Through your actions or decisions you might hurt another person, even someone you care about. The best you can do in that situation is apologize. You can’t always fix it, some times you can’t go back – or going back isn’t where fate is taking you. But you can be honest, and try to move forward with good intentions even if you can’t remove that thing that hurts.

Intentional hurts though are something reserved for people I am truly at odds with. It’s hard to sit here and think of an actual instance, but I’d venture that when under attack I’m not against returning fire – and returning fire in a harsh fashion. I think that’s fair too. It’d be more adult to walk away, refuse to engage. Sometimes I can be that person. But sometimes, just sometimes if I respond I know it will be with malice and spite.  Continue reading

Let’s Go

I miss the days when I would get off work and come home and GET READY TO GO OUT. It was exciting, that my day was getting ready to get started at 6pm and the night was ahead. Makeup, hair and nails would be freshened up as we headed out into the adventure of the night.

Those were the days. Now mostly I just would like a nap. Continue reading

Sometimes There’s Nothing For It But Beach Therapy

Sometimes real life gets too real and my avatar and I need fantasy STAT. My favorite aspect of having a Second Life playground is the ability to choose a climate, real or imaginary, and immerse myself in it. I suppose it’s a primal urge, the rush to the sea that so many of us get in SL. It’s not just a luxury, something calls us there, there is nothing as relaxing and calming to me as time at the sea.

Even a virtual one. Continue reading

There Was A Girl Named Isabella

I Need A Book for My Commute


My mother went to college with a girl named Isabella whose exploits were always retold with relish and laughter, when she and her friends gathered. There was the time Isabella broke up with her fiancee and threw his two carat diamond ring back in his face. There was the time Isabella almost married a real prince. There was the tragedy of the time her true love died in Vietnam, and well she was never the same. Continue reading