It just is.

What's playing on the X-box right now? Halo 3

There's neither good nor bad, it's thinking makes it so.
~William Shakespeare

My stomach always turns to chaotic mush whenever Indy gets sick. To begin with, I'm a recovering hypochondriac. I get freaked out when someone gets so much as a bug bite. Add to this the fact that Indy is a Phillips. Patrick and Zack were Biesemans. They rarely got sick and neither has ever had a feveral seizure. When Indy was much younger, he had two. I wasn't there for either, being at work for the first one, and out searching for a thermometer during the second one, but I heard they were scary as heck. What I was there for, was the following two weeks of on-again, off-again fevers and switching back and forth between Tylenol and ibuprofen, and no sleep and one ER room visit.

This morning he woke up with a fever. Not a bad one, thank God, 100, but still scary enough for his dad and I. When he has a fever, I go into combat mode. It's me vs the fever. I pull out the wet compresses, the fluids, the cotton clothing, the happy distractions and the Tylenol. I work around the clock to break the fever and keep it down.

Now, I know that fevers are natural, that they're the body's way of fighting infections, but after the previous nightmare of high fever fighting, I'd rather just stop the sucker before it gets higher than 99 degrees.

So I woke up happy that Indy was in great spirits, but a little frazzled at the fact that a fever woke him up at 6:45 am.

We got his fever down in about an hour or so and then kept him happily chilled out on the couch playing Halo. During the afternoon, he seemed so much better that we got Mike to help him ride his bike outside in the sunshine while we pulled weeds in the front yard.

It's been a few hours since then, and as fevers are wont to do, this one's trying (in vain, I'm hoping) to make a nighttime return. I'm getting suited up for the fight.

I've realized the wisdom in taking each moment, one moment at a time. Easy to say, hard to do.
But in a week like this past week, when I've gone from ecstatic (finding a donor match for Natalie!), to worried (Patrick flying out of NY in a blizzard) to celebrating (Zack's song on iTunes and Patrick's film acceptance into the Vimeo Film Festival) to crazy (dancing with all of the Chilean fans at Bang Data's video release party for the video directed by Patrick) to sad (Chile's earthquake the next morning) back to worried this morning over Indy's fever,

I've realized that every moment will be different from the next and if you're not living life in this moment, you're not really living life.

While Indy sits on the couch, playing with the X-box, I look through some music that I wrote while sitting alone, under a tree in Jackson Square in New Orleans. Karen, Mitchell and Patrick had already flown home before me and I was left with a couple of days to myself. It was the first time I'd traveled alone and I wanted to capture the moment. Here's a little of what I wrote.

"Van Ness" (June 4, 2001, 6:05 pm)

There are a few faces here that look like yours
those eyes that appear to have seen it all
how long has it been since you've seen the Ol' Miss
or heard the sweet southern drawl?

The rain's about to pour on me
and the wind's kicked up its noisy heels
but I've got no sense to head back indoors
I love the way this feels

I've got one night left in New Orleans
and what a stay it's been
but it's not the same trip it could've been
if you were here, my friend

I know you would've shown me things
and taught me things anew
I would love to see this place
the way I know you do

Here comes the rain, folks run for cover
the dixie band just doesn't care
someone's got to play for all us tourists
here in Jackson Square

Even if it never happens
somewhere in my dreams
you and I stroll slowly up and down
the streets of New Orleans.


"Jackson Square" (written in La Madeleine, June 6, 2001, 4:01 pm)

Good for him, wearing his caftan,
straw hat, beads and smiling face
I envy him, 'cause he calls this place "home"
and he's perfectly at home
here in this place.

Batten Down the Hatches

What's playing on the iPod right now-Tsugunai by Yasunori Mitsuda


We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin. ~André Berthiaume

It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are. ~e.e. cummings

Did you ever get the feeling that something or someone who was about to blow your cover was right around the corner? Thar's a storm a'brewin'!

I am a loving, caring person. I am also bitchy and moody and controlling.
But I am not one to revel in another human being's pain, and I certainly don't try to be the cause of that pain.

I'm no angel, but I'm not who you think I am, either.

It's funny, because I've been here before. Maybe that isn't so funny.

There was a time when no one knew about my polyamorous lifestyle. We came clean to our friends and lost only one who probably would've found some other reason to end the friendship. For years, people knew all about the three of us.

Now, years later, through the reforging of old friendships, we're once again wondering who needs to know what and when.

The bottom line is: I'm still who I was before.

Don't judge; that's not your job, remember?

Here and Now.

What's playing on the iPod right now:
I Wish by Stevie Wonder

My head's still spinning.
How many people can go to their 30th high-school reunion and think, Wow, that was more fun than I could have imagined it would be? How many more can say that they wouldn't change who they were or what they looked like before going to the reunion?

I can!

Three days ago, I performed and partied with my old friends and tomorrow night, I'm performing again at a benefit concert. Presently, my son is
reminding me that it's time for bed.

I'm grateful for who I am, what I look like and who I have around me for love and support. I knew that when I got home from the reunion that night, I would be coming home to unconditional love.

My reunion fell on two very important days to me: Chinese New Year and Valentine's Day. This is the year of the Tiger. How very interesting. I'm a Tiger.

I'm standing at the crossroads, and they're more clear, yet more fuzzy than they've ever been. I feel like I'm in the ninth grade again. Reforging old friendships, starting a New Year and learning new things about love. This is where the crossroads converge. Right here, right now.

Coolness In Action

What's playing on the iPod right now: Holiday in Cambodia by the Dead Kennedys

This is supposed to be on the "down low." I'm supposed to keep it all "hush-hush." No one reads this blog, so I'm good, right?

Never gave much thought to being friends with people in the government. Aside from my Dad's stint in the Navy, and my uncle Raul being a 5-star General, I only know as much about the" inside" as the movies have taught me. I never really knew anyone who was an "alphabet boy/girl." Being close to one has brought new meaning to the phrase "Membership has its privileges."

If they are reading this right now, don't fret. I'm not going into much detail at all. Not much. Certainly not anything that would incriminate either of us. Remember those meditative breaths, now ;)

Let me simply say that I'm in still awe at the limitless amounts of readily-available info that sits at their fingertips. I've learned new things about people I've known forever in a span of five whole minutes. Some things, I might add, I think I was better off not knowing. I've learned that the security I felt while being a bouncer who knew that at least six other bouncers were only as far away as a call on the headset, was only a quick, miniscule glimpse at the web of protection that's available to the company.

On the flip side (no pun intended and I'm not making Lumpia), my naive little balloon bouquet has been deflated just a bit more by the knowledge that we're all under some type of surveillance at any given time. The movies have some of it right. While I enjoy knowing that someone's constantly looking out for me and mine, I also feel more like drawing the curtains than I did when I was blissfully ignorant. Still, I'm marveling at the cool side of it all. I know enough. The rest can remain as it should, a secret.

While I feel privileged to know the little more that I know now, I understand that membership also has its price.