Well I think we figured out the plan for abra....so keep your fingers crossed.....or in my case say a prayer that it goes well and he gets it and it is what he needs to learn to modulate....getting very familar with it...giggle.

I'll modulate for you james...what is it?

I got him a teacher......so cool beans we will see what happens....Her degree in music theory so modulating right up her alley....giggle.

Feralcatlady,

In your picture you look like Doris Day.

in what year??

OMG JB your not even going to believe this.....but your like the 50th person in my life that has told me that. I remember once I was hanging out with some girlfriends, putting on makeup girly things....lol I put this orange lipstick on and they both at the same time said, "You look like Doris day."

Well it's been a long time since I got on here but here's a little about me...LOL
I am writing a Novel,I am producing a cd with my own music, I am doing a stop motion animation series that I'm probably going to put on youtube when I'm done, I'm making my vlog on youtube, I'm trying to develop and publish 2 games, I work a full time Job, I've been trying to find a different Job also try to fit in time with my Family and friends and then on top of that I'm trying to find a intelligent Girl to go out with but to no avail I might add...LOL
I do Impressions of alot of different people/Muppets, I learn for fun and like to travel go on road trips when I can afford it, love spicy food {as spicy as my personality}.
I am naturally loud {vocal wise} and tend to overwhelm people when I talk to them.
I am a Genius according to Mensa but try not to show off but it's sometimes hard when it seems like the world keeps getting dumbed down.
My favorite food place is QDoba.
Favorite Books are both Alice in wonderland and The Myth Series By Robert Asprin.
I have way too many fav movies to list and I like different Genre's of music.
I don't have a Favorite color really because it changes from time to time so I'll go with Blue for now because that's the color shirt I have on...LOL
I have a Tattoo on my right arm also.
I can't really think of what else to put so if there is a woman out there like myself mail me on here I would love to chat with you.

Thanks for the share Josh....

whooo hooo that quite the offer I wonder if james saw it.

Well I wanted to report a little about my visit to the prison to see Angela. For those of you who don't know...I will give you a little background on Angela's story. Angela and her mom were beaten, and life was just a living hell for the both of them by her father. When Angela was 18 years old her mother and herself plotted to kill her dad. They had just had enough of the abuse. Well then he got wind of it, and the mother and the father together went to the police and Angela was arrested for attempted murder. She was sentenced to 7 to life in prison. Even though they never even got close to carrying it out. It was all talk.

You may think to yourself what kind of mother does this to her 18 year old daughter. A mean and nasty one I feel. Anyway go ahead 16 years and Angela is still in prison. Now she has come up for parole on many occasions but since she doesn't have a support system outside of prison that is where she will stay for the rest of her life.

Enter Steve, Marsha and myself. 2 years ago Steve and Marsha's daughter was arrested for holding hostages, and another long story but not the one that involves me. Anyway, Angela and Shawn were roomates when Shawn first went to prison. She told her mom and dad about Angela and begged her mom and dad to help her. ]

This is where I come in. Because Angela has another parole hearing in July, we wanted to make sure that the support team was in place so that this time she would be released. My next door neighbor Scott will give her a job, the church we all attend is behind her 100% and will give her the spiritual as well as fellowship support. I go to the prison to visit her every other Saturday to show the prison that she has visitors on a regular basis.

Angela humbles me every time that I go to visit her. She has such a spirit about her, and the most forgiving heart of any human being I have known. For everything her mother and father put her through, she is so willing to forgive because she knows that it is the best thing. And that God would truly be happy with that decision. Don't get me wrong Angela can be as tough as nails when it is needed, but underneath is just a gal that was so wronged by not only her parents but the system.

Angela was also the first prisoner to take a puppy and see it all the way through training to help disabled people. She has got a new dog now, and when she is released would like to go to school in order to train dogs.

I went with Marsha this last Saturday and Shawn and Angela and myself and Marsha had just an amazing girls day at the prison. Can you imagine eating out of vending machines where this is such a treat for the girls. Marsha and I just buy them everything and anything that they want. It's funny cuz something as simple as gum to us......Which is not allowed at all in the prison is such a treat for them....yea I sneak it in...giggle. But we had a great time, and I ministered to Angela as much as she did to me. It's a nice feeling to know that I am truly making a difference in someones life.....And I hope you all pray that this parole hearing in July will finally release this sweet actually innocent gal from State prison.

What follows was written almost seven** (oops) years ago. It was fiction at the time--but in some ways I've grown to be a part of my writing. Honest.




The Anti-hero


What is a hero? Whatever it is--exposed as Reader’s Digest labels the “monthly example”-- I am sure of only one thing: I fall short. I do not live in the memory of the masses as a pained face of determination carrying a small bloodied body from the ashes and metal of New York City. I have never run the stairs of a burning building, or lifted an overturned car off someone drifting toward the silent beyond. My face has never been splashed across the blue screen, fit for consumption by an obsequious public, as they break bread but never the mold of disinterest.

My mind often filled with bucolic images of what I should want to be until the alarm clock rings flat. I am the son of a hero, the father of no one, and the product of heroes too numerous to mention. My past is blemished with the derision of my attempts to be a hero, my longing to be what I am not, and the vigilante pain that comes from knowing--not thinking--but knowing that some die far short of living.

I am the anti-hero, my life lacking élan, my impact lacking popular importance. I am sometimes scared, nervous, and unimpressive. Pulling up along side of death’s scoreboard totals, I see the freshly dug graves; the rugged and austere graves of those far greater. How I have longed to be them, and oh how I have failed. Those I mention are the ones who gave all, who ignored fear, fire, and reason. I speak of those who knowing they were going to die, did, and did so without the romantic blanket of “fate.” Oh, do not be fooled, cowards die and are labeled heroes--their anechoic whispers never heard. But what are we to make of those in whom rich and redolent poems are crafted? Are we to honor their memory? Perhaps their memory; but history's footprint is a much scarier master.

But what of the anti-hero? I do not want to tell you too much; it is far too personal. I am not generation anything. I understand the pathos of those I can truly see. I see the pogrom, but not the tears. I have no desire to wear the hero’s shoes, yet, I cannot bring myself to polish them either. An honest look inward reflects the pyre of my attempts to become what I am not. Too frightened to be insecure, I feel more than most. I blame when I am hurt, and lash out at the sky. I cannot sustain the magic and peacefulness of the lea, but would be crushed to find it missing. I am two sins away from a state of perdition and one away from caring.

I see the good in others, but not in relation to me. I know that deep down I am a good man, but deep down is a fractured place, and while the good lay there, so do the monsters. The lascivious creatures that tell me all is lost that the darkness will never be broken, that the light is an illusion. You see I believe the monsters, at times. I trust them because they give me excuses, and I understand excuses.

I am the anti-hero. Do you know me? Do you see me? Do you think you might be a little like me? Very well, but it takes honesty. It takes knowing that you may not be able to live a life that would would make the optimistic masses overtly proud. It takes knowing that the answers are not nearly as tough as the questions. It takes giving up your torpid shame, and instead celebrating it. It takes being, and it takes apathy. Apathy, the snooze bar of life is how we de-construct with dignity. Apathy is not nobility, but neither is being a hero. Heroes too often live with our minds, in good company, while their children sleep as orphans. A hero’s credit report is never next to the picture of the drowning victim he saved. A hero is not immortal. If heroes are keeping heaven safe then I want to be with the anti-heroes.

I want to be with those who screamed awake the night, trembling, warm breath melting cold lies. I want to curl up next to one who has felt the pain of loss and the emptiness of gain. I want to sit next to the kid in class with the black eye, earned because he was different. I want to dance with the ugly girl in the corner, because she has the courage to wear her beauty on the inside. I want to walk with the cowards who ran--who did not stay to fight. I owe them a chance to share their side of the story. I want to hug the old man whose wispy white hair bears the age of his anger, as he dies alone, loveless, save for Mistress Morphine. I want to understand the weak, and those who live alone. I want to wipe away the tears with and never let go of the embrace. I want to find the syncopation in the waves of life and crash through them with the person who cannot swim. I want to protect those without a voice and lend a voice to those scared of conviction.

I want to love the loser, the loser who knows he is a loser and yet still displays the courage of his fortune.

I am the anti-hero. I can be found in the back of the room. Quiet, unassuming, full of self. I am not going anywhere. I am the christ without a father, the Cobain without Nirvana, and the artist without desire. Do you know me?

Truly awesome....thanks for the share......I do and I don't know you......but I would like too.

I went to go visit my new friend in prison. What a great visit we had. It was such a girly girl visit. I went with My friend Marsha who's daughter is also in the prison and that how we came to help Angela. We all played cards and just had amazing girl talk. For those that see this and are the praying type...Please pray that when Angela comes up for parole in July....that they grant it this time......she has an amazing support system now, which was why she has not been released for the last 16 years....She was 18 when she was convicted of attempted murder on her father......Her mother and father turned her in to police even though it was never carried out and it was her mother that plotted it and was the brains behind it......So sad.....Angela is an amazing spirit and for all that she has been through....The Lord is right by her side....

I think james finally got his modulation lesson....

not from me..
I will pray for your friend Angela to make parole.After all she committed no crime.Wishful thinking is just that.

exactly....and I am just amazed at how spiritual and forgiving that she is....she has been through a lot in her young life.....and she is one of the most tender human beings I have ever met.....Thanks cutelildevilsmom.... your a sweetie.

your welcome.