Is it illegal to dance in your wheelchair in the middle of the road?


th0TRK7XVF

Apparently…yes. My latest run in with the police verified that (you’re welcome, street dancers).

I’ll set the scene for you.

Late night, quiet street, slightly high crippled chick. It was perfectly quiet, calm and serene. Except the music blaring from my phone. The street was empty. The speed limit was like 35 on that road, so I probably would have managed to get out of the way if a car had happened to come by. Ok, maybe not, but I was living life to the fullest.

I had just gotten done playing a few hours of BINGO. I had won absolutely nothing like every other time I’ve gone there, but who’s counting?

I was happy. It was my night out. I was alone, I smoked a little grass after leaving the place and was in the mood to rock and roll. Sidewalks are great for daytime wheelchair outings, but I wanted to try some dance moves with my wheelchair. You know, swerving side to side, twirling around, etc. I figured the world was my playground, everyone was asleep or filming the crazy wheelchair chick through their windows as I passed by. That, and the traffic cams, was just a passing thought as I moved my chair to the rhythm of the night. It was great. Until the suburban came…

I dutifully got off to the side of the road, but the vehicle pulled into a nearby store location and turned its disco ball on for me. Ok, so they were police lights, but it should have been a disco ball. Anyway, I’ll try to paraphrase as much as I can remember of the conversation:

Officer: What are you doing?

Me: Dancing.

Officer: In the middle of the street?

Me: Yes, but there’s no one out here. It’s perfect, I love being out at night, I was playing BINGO,  etc.

Officer: Does your husband and kids know where you are? (Apparently we had met before)

Me: They know I was playing BINGO.

Officer: What if some drunk had come down the road? There’s no way you could move fast enough.

Me: Fair point, I’m sorry, I’ll try to be a good girl and stay on sidewalks wherever they are available, but since you’re here, I need to talk to you about something else.

Officer: Go on.

Me: I’m glad that you know me (he had mentioned my husband, kids, even knew where I lived). The other day some kid yelled out “run Forrest, run” at me. It was funny, but it made me think, what if some night a few troublesome teens see me as an easy target. I need the whole police department to be kind of aware of the fact that there’s this crazy wheelchair girl who likes to go out at night.

Officer: You want us all to know you’re crazy?

Me: No, yes, well, I want you to know I’m out here, so I was thinking I should do or say something that you would tell your buddies about, and soon word would spread through the department and all the officers would keep a better eye out for me. I was thinking…You all confiscated some of my marijuana a while ago and I was wondering if I could get it back.

Officer: I wouldn’t ask for your weed back.

Me: Oh, you could sneak it out for me?

Officer: Please try to be careful out there.

It was so funny, the whole thing. Of course I was high at the time, so that helped.

In other news, I’m entering a huge poetry contest either today or tomorrow, so wish me luck!

 

 

Hello


20141029-000518.jpg

Aren’t these awesome quotes? I’ve never heard of the guy who said them, but they are two of my new favorites.

“Life is not about thought but about actions. Let your thoughts inspire amazing actions.” L.F. Baker

“Don’t ever be afraid to lose your mind if you gain yourself in the process.” – L. F. Baker

Forever Yours


Forever Yours

You helped me to stand on my own.

You publicly and privately protected and nurtured me.

Your “love” and “guidance” were steady and sheltering.

Your passion was severe.

You own parts of me, and those parts are a daily reminder of your love.

A “me” we can all live with, is the “me” you helped create.

I will always love you.

Even when you fall in love with someone else.

Yes, we can survive.

Yes, we’re each getting stronger.

Yes, I am happier, as are you.

Part of me is still forever yours.

A small glimmer of hope prevailed.

A life for each of us is possible.

Healthy relationships are possible.

We are each smart.

We are each valuable.

We are both good at so many things.

Can’t we love again?

Can’t we accept each other again?

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes

No to the last two.

Our love, isn’t “again”. Neither of us want’s that “again”.

We have a new love. A love that values, appreciates, and supports our differences.

Stronger than any hate, my love for you

Is forever yours.

Love


I love the moonlight, and long for it to caress my naked skin.

I love intelligent conversations with anyone.

I love orgasms. Don’t you?

I love that feeling you get when flirting.

I love the taste of fresh pineapple.

I love dreaming.

I love being capable of doing things.

I love the sound and smell of rain.

I love dancing in my wheelchair (now if I could just come up with some better moves).

I love being valued.

I love the way my kids light up my life.

I love being the town cripple.

I love being able to cry without judgement.

I love words, and the fact that they can reach across miles and touch your very soul.

I love baths.

I love weed a little too, just saying.

I love the adventures my mind goes on, even though my body doesn’t cooperate.

I love Blue Bunny Birthday Party ice cream.

I love writing something that gets me wet.

I love the taste of freedom.

Something’s wrong, and mini update.


I’m going to be only occasionally dropping by this blog until February. Got real writing to do. Mostly contest sort of stuff, but I’m excited about it even if none of my stuff wins.

Sometimes writings just come out without having a place to call home, so in those cases I’ll bring them here. There also might be times like tonight when I write 2 things for one category and decide to enter the “less normal” one into the contest, so you all get to preview the runner up.

20140927-212158.jpg

Something’s Wrong

You asked me if something is wrong.
It is, but we’ll be alright.
Sometimes everything is perfect.
Other times I remember.

Having fun with you.
Making love to you.
Being one with you.

If I wasn’t who I am…
If you weren’t who you are…
If life hadn’t sucker-punched us
And helped make us the monsters we’ve become…

I cry for what we could have had.
For what will never be.
I miss us.

The Mouse and the Motorcycle


Due to content that some readers may find offensive, viewer discretion is advised.

NOT:

20140916-002535.jpg

Once upon a time there was a mouse.

Due to privacy practices, I can’t tell you her real name, but let’s call her Bonnie.

Bonnie was a normal mouse doing normal mouse-things, except for one little difference. Bonnie had rabies. She occasionally freaked out and bit people. She also had an annoying habit of foaming at the mouth. During moments of sanity though, she was a mouse with big dreams and ideas.

One of her ideas was to start a movement to change the way mice were killed. She figured why suffer the agony of being poisoned with arsenic, or mutilated by a spring trap, or slowly starving to death on a glue trap? Mice should be able to turn themselves in to the Almighty Homeowner and request a more humane death.

This idea was met by those in her mice community with shock and horror. They had difficulty understanding the concept, especially since it came from a crazy mouse.

Lucky for this mouse though, it had a understanding motorcycle friend.

Due to privacy practices I can’t tell you the motorcycle’s real name, but let’s call him “Tommy“.

Tommy and Bonnie had a mutually beneficial relationship. Tommy would go on rides enjoying his freedom, and when he came back, Bonnie would scratch his seat and get the dirt out of his handlebars while he patiently listened and supported her crazy “choose how you die” ideas.

It was an unconventional motorcycle/mouse relationship, but it worked for them.

One day Bonnie had another brilliant idea. She would become the spokesperson for the “stop the insanity” movement, which was a group of mice, with and without rabies, who advocated the use of catnip for treating the painful symptoms of rabies as well as enjoying the buzz from consuming the herb.

She was excited to tell her friend about this latest idea and the extreme measures she was willing to go through to advocate for this cause. As she ran across the street to tell Tommy, a motorcycle came around the corner and ran Bonnie over.

The end.

Moral of the story? Even crazy mice with insane pipe dreams don’t deserve to be squashed.

20140916-100827.jpg