Thursday, December 29, 2011


I've been reprogramming my brain and reconnecting my pathways.  Abraham-Hicks works for me.  It does not matter what others think of my reprogramming beliefs and rebuilding my self-worth has been a awesome.  A good Re-booting is that is what is going on with me.  Revise, reboot, renew my soul. 

So much love,
All the way
from inside,

Tuesday, December 27, 2011


Making Christmas Dinner with some awesome friends!

Grilled Marinated Chicken Breasts
Grilled Marinated Tofu
Twice baked cheesy polenta with Italian truffles
My incredible tomato sauce
Broccoli Raab with balsamic red onions, garlic and shallots

Chocolate for dessert

Monday, December 26, 2011

Linda's To Do List

Linda's To Do List:


Listen to the guidance from within

Follow the guidance received


If there is extra time, consider adding one of these other items:

Breath deeply
Drink lots of water
Trust all is well
Slow everything down
Relax into divine bliss
Trust the Universe
Let go

So much love
All the way
From over here,

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Here's what I know for sure....

Here is some stuff I know about myself, for sure:
  • I am a morning person
  • I love coffee
  • Moisturizing makes me feel better
  • I require a lot of water and love drinking it
  • Daily movement keeps my soul alive
  • Schloop always brings bliss.  So do avocados.
  • Each day reequires quiet meditation for optimal happiness
  • Acupuncture always works on my nervous system
  • I never put a knife (except butter knives) into a dish washer
  • I snore
  • Music is my first language
  • I am unlike most people
  • And I am exactly like everybody else
Some days you gotta write down stuff or else you might forget. I almost forgot some of those things...

So much love,
All the way
From over here,

Monday, December 19, 2011

In the old days

Once upon a time, Blogs were created as online journals like a daily journal that you could type into rather than write into some big spiral bound notebook...or if you're like me, some Mole Skin notebook.

But with my recent separation of my advice blog and my poetry blog, I now wonder what Linda Land is all about.

The blog is supposed to be thoughts about this and that from someone who has thoughts about that and this, and that is where I'd like it to return.

So, today my thoughts are about my inner light

Where is it?

Where'd it go?

Is it really gone or is it merely a cloudy vision...clouded by others' opinions and perspectives?  That feels like the right answer.

My inner light, my inner beauty is still alive despite what others think of fact, one of the smartest women I've ever met and who was a brilliant teacher/friend once told me, "It is none of my business what anyone else thinks about me."  Thank you Anne Rainbow Sister Shepard Crary and also Joan Casey.  Brilliant teachers in their own right.

And that message is important for me today.

I don't care what anyone thinks about me.  My only obligation is to myself and what I think of myself first... From there, joy can emerge and life begin again.

Hospital stays do a real number on the brain.  They are no place to heal.

That is true enough!

So, part of my healing process today from my recent hospital stay is to be true to myself first today and go with my flow and surrender to the beauty that lives inside of me.

And also, try to figure out how to set up this whole new microphone/stand/phantom power sound board thingy so I can hear my own voice.   For real!

Sending you so much love,
All the way from

Saturday, November 12, 2011


I love the East Coast.

East Coasters are famous of meeting you and tagging you with a nickname.

It has been my observation that people from New Jersey are at the head of the pack with this trend.  Why?  I think it must be they are like me....I am terrible with names.  It doesn't matter if you have a title in front of your name like President, or Mister, or Doctor or Hulk....I won't remember if you are Jack or Rodgers or Hogan or whatever you are calling yourself in this lifetime.....

What I do know?  Is that if you and I have *collaborated* on any sort of physical or astral plane, well, you have met Lola. For confirmation, whatever Lola wants, Lola gets.  Jan taught me that message.  Thank you Jan, for all that you have brought to my life.  I love and adore you forever.

Here's a song from my favorite nick-a-name ever, Lola....

So much love,
All the way...
from over here.....

Thursday, November 10, 2011


I collect cigar boxes. I have about 100, maybe less. It's nice to have a collection of something. It isn't an obsession, but when I'm out, in the back of my mind I think that maybe I'll be able to find a cigar box here. And about once a year, a box appears.

The goal is not quantity. It is purely attraction. Something about the box speaks to me, be it the logo, script, or duty verification stamps from customs. It could be made of cedar or just lined with cedar. Some have latches, others have tacks. It doesn't matter as long as it speaks to me, winks hello and tempts me. That's the cigar box I collect.

In each of my boxes is a little treasure. Open any one and you'll find something inside it. It may not always be a prize, but there's something. Pictures of myself in the 5th grade, my father's dog tags from his army days, my all access pass to the bicycle racing pavilion at the 1990 Good Will Games...I'll never forget the day I served espresso to the Italian racing team. I thank god, daily, for that week! Life has been good to me.

While rummaging through yesterday, I came across a letter written to my father from my grandfather (his dad.) Reading it I am reminded of my grandpa's strong, quiet sense of humor.This exactly what he wrote:

March 15, 1987

Dear Jack,

Thanks for coming over---I love you. Be good!! etc...



The Cadillac is yours for $1.00 (In my will you get it for nothing!!)

My dad loved that Cadillac and he drove it for several years after grandpa died. I'm pretty sure Dad shelled out the dollar, but it's hard to tell with the men in my family. They die so young! What does that mean? That once a man hooks up with one of these fiery women they need no more? Are they happy when they die? Is the rebirth worth it?

So much love,
All the way from over here,

Wednesday, November 9, 2011


I am a romantic woman. Living on the road is not for everyone, but if you have ever wanted to abandon your life and move into a VW bus and live on the road I say do it. It is an incredible way of life. The beautiful thing about having a VW camper is that you don't have to stop at a campsite to camp. With a camper you can simply pull over and park, put up the privacy curtains and then you are good to go for the night. If you have traveling companions and you need to pop the top, then you need to find someplace where you won't be hassled by the police. That is one of the risks owning a vehicle with a "hippy" connotation. Police don't like hippies. Nobody does anymore. Poor hippies.

Okay. You've decided you want to take the plunge and purchase a VW camper. You have had your head examined and your doctor releases herself from all responsibility for your decision and you are ready to go. What do you need to do first? Find a mechanic. Yes. You need to have a mechanic first especially if you are buying a VW bus that was built before 1990. After you have a good mechanic, then you need to join AAA. Get the deluxe package. It's only about $20 more a year and includes unlimited towing. You will need it. I became great friends with my tow truck drivers in and around the Seattle area.

There are three generations of VW buses. The first is considered the only choice from VW gear heads the type II air cooled engine. The pictures below are the second generation type II buses from the 1960's. The pop-top and nickname "Westy" comes from the camper manufacturer that VW collaborated with to create the ultimate RV. Westfalia created the pop-top design and interiors. The center pop-top was one of the first designs and then it went to the angled pop-top. Here is an excellent example of a 1960's bay window Westfalia pop-top camper.

And here are a few more pictures of the 1960's to 1979 varieties.

These are the first generations of VW Westfalia campers.

Disclaimer: People, I am not a mechanic. I am a novice. I may make a few mistakes here and there describing the engines and parts. I am not and never have been a gear head but I have slept with them. I know that the VW community is as full with nerds and geeks as intense as the software world. In fact, many of the software geeks of this world own VW bugs and buses, so please don't start spamming my email with all my mistakes. Okay?

The Malibu Stacey Funtime Camper was not of this generation, rather she was born in 1981. Picking a good bus is like buying a fine wine. Every year there are grapes does not mean that is a good year for wine. Same thing goes for buses. In 1980 VW changed the design and engines of their Westfalia Campers coming up with a bigger living space and these buses are called Vanagons. The advantage to the Vanagon is that there is larger living space, roomier and more creature comforts which is especially important to those of us over six feet tall. You get a few extra inches in the bed so you can really spread out...such a nice feature in the woods too. But be warned if you choose this type. 1980-1982 were the worst years for these engines. They are still air-cooled but some are oil-cooled with a little catheter on the side of the bus and oil cooled engines are really not a good idea, especially if you want to go into the desert. It's hot in the desert. Oil gets hot and likes to catch on fire. I learned that from watching Operation Desert Storm. What will happen is that your engine will over heat crossing some mountain pass and you'll be on the side of the road for a long time waiting for it to cool down enough just to put it in neutral to coast down the side of a mountain. Be warned...only buy this engine if you are prepared to do a lot of work on it....wait. That is the same warning for all the buses, so forget it! If you love it, buy it!

This picture is a 1984 Vanagon. Very sexy, if you ask me. Malibu Stacey was sky blue, not this Tiffany blue, but very sexy just the same. Ooooohhh lalalala! This is the second generation and the birth of the Vanagon. These campers were made until the early 1990's and then they kept a similar design but put in a different engine like the Sciricco engine. The thought was that it could be faster than the Vanagon but I heard a lot of grumbling from the VW gear heads about this engine too, so I don't really know if it was a winner. I will say the interior designs of the Vanagon are my favorite. I've owned two buses: Stanley the Manly Westfalia was born in 1976 and he was sweet pickle green with a new engine but I let my 21 year old gear head put the engine in instead of using my awesome mechanic and it was never a good vehicle.

Malibu Stacey was a stubborn bus and fickle too. So when she wanted to stay in one place for a couple of days, she just wouldn't start-up. That's part of the fun too. That would mean that she wanted to stay wherever we were and there was more exploring for me to do. Once it meant sitting by a fire pit for two days in the back woods of Idaho writing poetry next to a stream. You do what god tells you to do when in a camper.

Below is the Eurovan...considererd a piece of shit from all true VW affeciandos. Oh sure it's great if you want to go over 55 MPH or have AC and be able to travel on a schedule. If you want to have some kind of dependiblity, I guess this would be a good choice, but be prepared to shell out about $25/K...even for this one below! Look at its dents and it doesn't even have a kitchen!
Let's review what you've done so far:
  • You have a mechanic
  • You have an awesome towing package from AAA
  • You have had your head examined
  • You have unlimited resources...oh didn't I mention that this was going to waste all your savings? Well it will so you better have a lot of cash stashed because this thing bleeds money not to mention the lousy gas mileage and unexpected mechanic bills while on the road...just be warned. You need a ton of cash.
  • You picked the van of your dreams and are in love. You should definitely make this an emotional choice and not a practical one since love will get the bus going when you are out at some rave in old growth forests and you are done praying. Love will be all you need.
  • You have a storage unit filled with back-up parts. I didn't mention that either? Well, time to get familiar with the temperature sensing unit that tells the thermometer what the engine temperature is because when you blow through one of those, trying to find one in Bumfuck Montana is a true test in patience. Especially when the mechanics won't believe you that you have an extra one ready to install.
Now it is time for the naming ceremony. All buses need a name. If you don't believe it, then you are not listening to your camper. It will tell you what his name is or her name. They are gender specific and respond to having their name called. Building a psychic personal relationship with your camper is half the fun. It gives you someone to talk to while you are on the side of the road.

Oh, I also recommend buying a lot of old panties or just saving those from your old girlfriends. I've recently discovered that many men have drawers of old girlfriends panties. If you happen upon a boyfriends drawer, clean it out and put it in the camper. I use the old panties to check the oil on the side of the road. It is a sure way to get a stranger to stop and help you. It works too! State troopers are much nicer if you are using old panties to keep your hands clean when you are reattaching the fuel-injection lines that popped off while flying down the mountain in neutral.

Here are a few things that you do not have to do if you decide to own a VW Bus:
  • You do not have to listen to the Grateful Dead. I've never been a dead head and really hated that people expected me to only have on that boring, monotonous music. It is totally uninspiring in my book so feel strong people. Walk away from the Jerry Garcia. It is okay!
  • You do not have to pick up hitchhikers. Unfortunately, all hitchhikers will expect you to stop for them, but you are not required to by law. Luckily, fewer and fewer people are hitchhiking because of crime so the obligation is less than it used to be. However, if you are traveling between towns in the backwoods of Colorado like between Gunnison and Crested Butte, there is only one place the stoner skiers are going and if you are inclined to pick-up a hitchhiker there, you'll be pretty safe.
  • You do not have to smoke pot to have a camper. Remember that everyone will assume that you are a pot smoker if you have a bus and will expect you to be holding out on some bud. Don't fall for the pressure kids. Drugs are bad, m'kay?
  • You can have a job and own a bus. It is just rare to find the two combinations together.
Thank you for reading. I must say it has helped me through my wilderness urge. I don't have enough money today...but boy, she was a lot of fun.

So much love,
All the way from over here,

What's Inside?

Spirit asked me what I was building inside today.  Then this song came on....

So much love,
from inside

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Mighty Isis

Oh Mighty Isis,
Somewhere....there's a place for us....

This poet says it best.

So much love,
All the way from
Inside of

Monday, April 4, 2011


I just realized that I was not having any more fun.  I know...kinda late in the game, but I might not have mentioned...I appear very smart but I'm not really a smarty-pants. I mean, I'm not having fun in life and that wasn't the agreement that I made with planet Earth.  See, I was having a good time with life and then it all stopped.  I stopped having fun and that is now what I signed up for during this lifetime.

I had an incredible experience in 1995 or 1996.  I really don't remember the exact date and if Quincy was here with a corpse dating back to that timeline, then maybe we'd have an hour-long episode but for now it's just you and me and there ain't no Quincy around so ahead we the point.....

During 1995-96, Karen Sevenoff and I headed onto a road-trip inspired by a glance then a nod at the fountain at an obscure park off of Broadway in Seattle Washington.  This park is on Pike or Pine  and Broadway, (or sometimes I call that area "Pink and Broadway because I can never remember which one is which), so if anyone one reading this who knows that park's name could email that to me, well...that would be super swell.

Karen and I were sitting in the grass at the edge of the fountain and we looked at each other, and I swear I felt the ground move like a 10.0 I never knew the sunrise until this exact RIGHT FUCKING NOW, WE GOTTA GO, SISTER! Kinda energy.  Okay?Crazy, NOW, urgent energy!

That look was all it took and from that glance we stood up and left quickly from that park and headed to the car.  First stop was Karen's beautiful Pioneer Square apartment.  We took a few things from her place and High-Tailed it out of Seattle Washington onto a road-trip that was beyond belief.  I am certain many parts of this tale will be hard to believe but we were guided from above.  For 7 days I drove in a spiral through the southwest.  The first day we traveled 1000 miles in less than 24 hours and the stars parted and the Universe spoke to us in ways that I have never experienced before.

At that time, in the 1994 blue Jetta, I discovered that we are (indeed!) on a Vacation Planet.  This atmosphere, ambiance and environment are here for our pleasure and we have been wasting our time in illusionary battles.  There is no way up some cosmic or corporate ladder.  There is no uphill battle.  The time is now. We are here to have FUN!  Listen up,ego.  Time to lay down the drum of competition and judgement.  Now is the time for witnessing the planet we are on!

This is the message that I continue to receive and it is one of hope, beauty and bliss.  I feel I should warn you, like an apology, but I am sorry to report that my vision of the future is absolutely beautiful!

Don't believe me?  Take a look around you.

Do you notice something lovely?  A kitty perhaps, or a sandwich, or beverage, or pillow, or bracelet, or something that makes you gaze upon and feel good?

NOTE: I realize that this is a purely physical and superficial response to the beauty that surrounds us, but how do you expect anyone to reach a quantum level of cellular appreciation without witnessing and appreciating the superficial, cellular physical being in front of you?  So I kindly ask...please hold your judgements onto the physical, superficial beauty of life until the end of the program.  Thank you very much....

But let us agree that there is something within your gaze that you look upon that makes you feel good.  For me, right now, it is the four flickering flames of the scented candles that I bought for myself the other day.  Their rounded glass holders in a diamond formation with the lavender and midnight blue wax calm my spirit and soothe my soul.

My point is that be it a human being or kitty or puppy or scented or whatever, it is possible to fixate our gaze onto an object or thought or memory of something that feels better than the sadness of life and its consequences.

Spirit spoke to me and said, "Linda, you are on a vacation planet.  Look all around you.  See the beauty in everything and then glory in all that is."  And I said, "You are fucking crazy."  And spirit said, "Nu-huh." And I went, "Uh-huh" and it went on like that for a long time, like 700 miles or so, but at some point before 1000 miles, I realized that Spirit wasn't kidding; that beauty WAS all around us and that I was at that exact moment surrounded by beauty.  It was my job to witness BEAUTY all around me.  And then Spirit said, "Remember, dear one, you are on a vacation planet and you are on a 'Working Vacation'. Okay?" I agreed, "Okay." And clearly remember thinking to myself that I was indeed on a vacation planet and all chores are of my doing.

So I have approached my career since that time as a "Working Vacation" and when I am not feeling that way, then I know that it is time for me to move into another direction.

What does all that mean?  Means I need to take a break and see what all that means, is what it means, Mister!

And that is where we realizing that we are indeed on a vacation planet and I do know what one of those is and I'm happy to tell you all about that tale but maybe tomorrow because I gotta heed cold and am tired and my nose is stuffed up and I gotta headache and my body aches ad I wanna rest right now but I do really want to tell you what I'm understanding...but maybe it will happen tomorrow or the next day, but one day soon.  Okay?

So much love
All the way from over here....

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Naked Guy Part I

he human male A.K.A. Homus Erectus A.K.A Facinationus Withus Peni

We really are two different creatures; the male and the female Different species actually. Zacharia Sitchin says that the gods (females) mated with the beasts (male) and created a new species. What other explanation can there be for the vast differences between the two? A hybrid. That makes sense to me.

I responded to a house-sitting ad for a businessman who travels a lot. He has a lovely home and needs a responsible, trustworthy person to protect his property and live in his space while he is out of town 22 days a month. Rent free, close to the beach, and my kitties can have a home too.

It sounded great so I called right away. On the phone he told me he was a naturist.

"Do you know what that means?" he asked.

"You like to be nude all the time? You're a nudist?" I replied.

"Yes, but we prefer naturist. Are you open to that?" he asked.

"Sure, as long as it is not required of me."

"No, only acceptance." he said.

"Yes, I'm open. Let's see what happens." I said.

We made arrangements to meet later in the day and I thought about the possibility of living with a naked guy. I'm pretty adventuress and open to all sorts of new things so why not? I need a place to live and if this guy is really gone 22 days a month and if he has a great house...maybe I could live with a naked guy. Heck...I'm out a lot and go to bed early...I got my life and who knows? Why judge before meeting him?

Besides now I really wanted to see this guy. What does a Naturist look like? And what's the problem with being a nudist? Does he have fabric covered furniture? Do his kids go around naked (he has them on the weekends) or should I ask, do his kids go around naturally? Naturistic? Au Natural? Nekid?

The word Nudist has a negative social connotations just like the way midget  does. What does the word nudist imply?

Freaky sex?

That's all I got.

Honestly though, I don't believe the word nudist has as much violence associated with it as midget.  I've met several little people and have asked about the word midget. One woman told me the word is offensive because of the public humiliation and cruelty associated with being judged based on the appearance only. I can understand that perspective and it is easy for me to eliminate midget from my vocabulary.

Personally, being gigantic compared to the average-sized woman, I find the words little more offensive. When I am called big it is an insult. Yet I have come to accept my size. Words don't hurt me unless if they are delivered with an Italian evil-eyed hex.

Can I live with a naturist?

I decided to take the risk and meet him at his house. I fantasized about all the money I’d save, and living in a multimillion dollar mansion on the ocean in South Florida.

As I drove over there I prayed to God in gratitude for guiding me to this possibility and asked for guidance.

"God," I asked, "what if he is naked when I arrive?"

God said, "Be cool, baby. Don't look down. Be cool, be cool.”

"Good advice God, thanks!" I prayed back. I get such great support from God.

His house is closer to Miami and was hard to find. The gates opened as I drove in and he said he needed a moment to get to the door so I waited at the door and noticed the lovely landscaping, privacy, and location. Private paradise.

He answered the door nude. This was good. I gotta see the goods before I sign-on, know what I mean. What if I found him repulsive? I couldn't live with a naked guy who I thought was disgusting, unclean, or a freak.

How does the average American prepare to meet a Naturist for the first time? Do we teach our children this in school? No. I'm sure there is a "Naturist for Dummies" book out there, but I didn't have that kind of time. What has been my greatest teacher my whole life?


Television is the ultimate teacher...especially cartoons. TV has taught me so many great things like how to cook, how to wrap presents, how to read (Easy Reader on the Electric Company was quite helpful to me before he learned how to read scripts and move into films like Shawshank Redemption.)...Television has been my favorite teacher.

God spoke again to me, “Remember what TV has taught you...TV has all the answers.”

At that moment, I remembered an episode of Family Guy about a nudist family. Meg, a low self-esteemed teen, started dating the son in a nudist family. Naturally, Peter responded poorly and used the words like nipple and bush throughout the episode in uncomfortable situations and the awkward silences and ball jokes were fast coming. What did I learn? Don't be like Peter Griffin. That's good advice for everyday.

Here's my mental note:

If I ever meet a nudist, keep eye-contact and be sure to behave as if they were dressed. It is just a lifestyle choice. Nothing more. We're born nude, we die nude. Ashes to ashes dust to dust.

And that is exactly what I did.

He greeted me at the door nude and I didn't look down at his package. I was checking out the cathedral ceilings, the piano, the huge kitchen, the adorable puppy and kitty, the huge Florida room, the master bedroom suite (which I could have he said) or the twin-room suite (also I could have that room if I preferred it he said), the 4 car garage and on and on and on.

22 days a month gone.

Can I live with a naturist?

He had kind eyes and was gentle. He seemed nervous as I imagine anyone is meeting people for the first time, let alone nude. I admired his courage. Plus he had a cute little ass. He's kind-of a little guy compared to me but not repulsive and quite frankly I didn't care that he was naked at all.

To be continued...

Naked Guy Part II

As we toured the home, I could tell he was nervous by his body language. He kept hugging his tummy. I thought to myself that it takes a lot of courage for anyone to meet someone new, let alone naked. The Naked Guy didn't know what to do with his hands.

No pockets.

Poor Naked guy.

To make him feel more comfortable I picked up pictures of his children and asked some questions.

"She's so beautiful. What's her name?" I asked.

"Carmen" he said. "She's ten."

"Such a great age. And the boy?"

"Lucas. He's 8 and a joy." he boasted.

"So do they visit often?" I asked.

"Every weekend but I fly them to wherever I am and we're visit everywhere in the world. They love it!" He said.

What's this? A good father? A nurturing man too? Get out! Someone who wants to connect with his children and is committed to showing the kids the world? How does he do that I wondered.

"What is it exactly that you do?" I asked.

"Venture capitalist." he said shifting his attention away from my eyes and towards the sunset overlooking the lake.

Here we go I thought. Now we're getting to the reality of it all...Venture Capitalist...yeah right buddy. I know what they do! My enthusiasm for the house fades and skepticism sets in.

In South Florida Venture Capitalist is code word for "Drug Dealer". I've been to a lot of singles events and whenever some guy tells me he's a Venture Capitalist and I ask what that means they can't articulate what the job is. This is a red flag for me. Now I'm thinking he's got some boat that disappears to Ecuador or Columbia to get the goods to keep the east coast hopped up on coke. I am surprised that the cocaine community is still in fashion. That seems so 1985 to me...but so it is. In south Florida, and probably everywhere else, people are still doing coke.

I prodded, "So what exactly does a venture capitalist do?"

"I find money for companies that are going public" he said plainly.

Impressive. He knew the actual definition of what a venture capitalist does! Having lived in Seattle for 17 years and living through the dawn of the computer age with so many software companies being started and absorbed by Microsoft, I know that is what venture capitalists do. I really want to live here!

I took a moment to gather my thoughts and take note of what was happening. Here is an incredible home, 2 great animals, kids that might visit but were cute and I work and can deal with kids, Florida room, pool, piano, water delivery service, maid, 4 car garage, I can bring my cats, and on and on and on....

Fuck yeah! I gotta get this gig! My mind can I snag this gig?

"Sell yourself baby!" I hear in my head. Make him want to have you in his home! The only thing this house was missing was the warmth of a woman. It was missing great smells, warm feelings, the feminine energy.

Very coolly I ask if I can play his piano as I started to seat myself. He gestures towards the bench and I sat and played "Ruby My Dear' in the style of Thelonious Monk. What man can resist a woman who can sing and play incredible jazz? I like to think of myself as the brunette version of Diana Krall...she's so lucky to snag Elvis Costello. I've played the piano since the age of 3 and started studying jazz 20 years ago so I can hold my own. I played with great feeling and expression and he smiled during the tune.

He was impressed. His daughter plays piano he says. I see him loosening up. His arms stop hugging his belly and he shifts to arms akimbo. A good sign. That is a confident stance. Good. Good. This is very good. A man should feel comfortable in his own home.

I finish the tune and get up moving into the kitchen. Surveying the Italian marble counter tops and Wolf stove, refrigerator, stack ovens I say, "You know, I'm a graduate of the Culinary Institute of America and quite an accomplished chef. Do you mind if I use the kitchen a lot?"

"Oh, I never use the kitchen. It'd be nice to have someone cooking." he said.

Good work Linda! That degree from the CIA was the best 40 grand I ever spent!

"So, how many people have responded to your ad?" I asked.

"You're the first." He said.

Excellent! I saw my future unfolding. Beautiful home, close to the beach, close to is all going to work.

He asked me, "Do you have a lot of girlfriends down here?"

I say, "Some, sure. I really should have more friends for the 3 years that I've been here but I've put a lot of energy into my work and I'm hoping to make more friends soon."

"So will you have them over?" he asks.

A fair questions I thought.

"Only if you don't mind." I say. I had invited my sister for a visit earlier in the day and wondered how she'd do when Naked Guy was home, but the amenities were so great and she hasn't been laid in a while...maybe she'd like to see a naked man. Who knows?

"I'll have to tell them that you're a naturist before they come over and if they don't feel comfortable, the they might not visit." I added.

He nodded in understanding.

He said, "Well, I need to get ready to leave in the morning and I'll call you when I return from my next trip which should be in about 8 or 9 days."

"Great!" This really was perfect for me. I had time to process the change and get rid of the rest of my stuff. If all goes well, I could be moved in by February 1st. It was all working out perfectly.

He escorts me to the door and we shake hands. I touch the pooches head and tell her that I hope we can be the best of friends. As I exit he opens the gate and I wave goodbye.

Fantastic! I am as high as a kite on the 15 mile drive north back to my home. I think: Close to Miami. Piano. Wolf kitchen equipment! Good manifestation Linda! Thank you god, thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you I think over and over on the ride back.

Wow. How did I get so lucky?

I call Karen (my bestest of friends and an incredible soul-sister )and tell her all about my experience and we celebrate on the phone. Once home as we're jabberjawing away about this and that, I receive a text message from the Naked Guy.

I tell Karen, "Hold on, I gotta read this! Maybe he's offering me the house? Hold on!"

The text says: I find you very attractive did u notice my lball?

I get Karen back and tell her.

Neither of us are very experienced in text messaging. Its not what my friends and I do so there are a lot of shortcuts that I don't understand.

I ask Karen, "What does lball mean?"

She says, "Maybe it's short for eyeballing you? Checking you out?"

"Maybe..." I say. "What should I do?"

She said, "Text him back that your flattered. You're flattered right?"

"Well yeah!" I say.

"Did you find him attractive?" she asks.

"Not really, he was cute but short. He had really kind eyes." I say.

Most men are much shorter than me. I'm 6 feet tall and prefer a man my height or taller. It's just a physical thing, but I have certainly dated many, many men shorter than me and I'm not so shallow to keep something like height or age from dating a guy. It's just that I prefer a taller man. That's all.

We end our call so I could think about what to do. What kind of message should I send back? What to say? What to say....

To be continued...

Naked Guy Part III

When is text messaging appropriate?

If you are deaf, anytime.

I can understand the usefulness of text messaging especially when you want to tell your sweetie that you love them or you're gonna be a few minutes late, or what time you need to be picked up from the mall (kids to parents), or if you need to send someone a quick note. Texting can be fun.

I've done some texting but not in the way most of America is using this form of communication. I have done my share of chatting online, which is kind of the same thing as texting, but a lot less expensive. To be fast at chatting online or texting, there are lists of shortcuts that have become common knowledge like LOL (laugh out loud), OMG (oh my god), WFT (what the fuck). These codes have moved over to the texting world and I understand these shortcuts. So I did a search on Google and found no shortcut for Iball.

I texted naked guy back:

"I'm flattered. Thank you! I appreciate your courage. What is Iball?"

It takes a lot of courage for someone to tell a stranger that you're attracted to them and I need that kind of attention. The last guy I fell for couldn't even tell me that he had a girlfriend so I didn't want to stop his honest communication. It's important to me no matter what kind of friendship we have be it roommate or housesitter that there be honesty.

Naked Guy texts back immediately:

"One ball."

Ah ha! The text wasn't Iball, it was 1 ball.

Now I want clarity, so I text back:

"You lost a testicle?"

Naked Guy writes"

"Yes. I want you to know everything. Would u like to see? I can email to u if u like. Do you have yahoo?"

So he wants me to know everything before he offers me the housesitting gig. Okay, that's cool with me. I'm down with that. Let's get real I think. Let's share our pain.

I text back:

"Sure, send it." I add my email address.

I'm thinking he wants to send me a story about his loss and before I receive any email I generate a story about Naked Guy and it goes like this: Naked Guy had cancer. His wife left him. He lost his job. He looses a testicle, had some sort of epiphany about life and he becomes a naturist to reconnect with his new body. He throws himself into his work to make lots of money and directs his energy on traveling and developing this awesome relationship with his children.

I like this story. It makes sense to me.

Disease and life-threating illness changes a person's perspective. I too have had my own experiences that have transformed my perspective on life. For example, I was misdiagnosed for years while I had Hashimoto's disease that caused me to gain 150 pounds which I have now lost. When illness changes your body, it is takes time to accept the new form.

For me, I still have difficulty sometimes looking in a mirror and seeing the "new" me 150 pounds lighter. The mind creates a vision of ourself and hangs on to it. We need other people to reflect the beauty we possess in our new bodies. At least, I do.

Perhaps Naked Guy was attracted to me because I didn't even look at his loins. I behaved as if he were dressed and frankly I didn't care that he was naked. I accepted Naked Guy as he was and that's attractive in any relationship be it friendship, relatives or lovers.

Then I drifted into fantasy land. What if I've met my partner? A Venture Capitalist who travels the world and has great relationships with his kids and I make a beautiful home and travel with him and his one ball?

He texts me again while I'm off in my fantasy:

"If I send the video when will you watch it? Tonight? Now?"


He has a video about his ball?


What were the words I first thought of when I heard the word Naturist?

Freaky sex.

Okay. Thank you god. Yes, again you were right again. This guy is not just a naked freak but a one-balled-freak.

"Dearest God," I pray. "Please direct my beautiful fingers to the right tiny keys on my cell phone to compose the most perfect text message back to Naked Guy. Please God, may it be free from hate and misspellings. Your ever-loving servant, Ashey Nameste."

I sit in quiet contemplation for a long time.

I reflect on our visit earlier in the evening and the questions I didn't ask. I didn't ask him about his lifestyle choice. I didn't ask him how long he'd been a naturist. I didn't ask if his children are nude when they visit. I didn't ask any personal questions at all! And if we were going to live together, didn't I at least owe that to myself?

Naked Guy texts me again:

"If I send to you, will you share with your girlfriends in So. Fla?"

Men. So fascinating. Men like to go fishing. They like to hunt. They like the chase. I am a Leo woman. In the lion kingdom the feline females are the huntresses and the male watches (voyeurs that most males are) and wait until the kill has happened before moving in and feasting on the fruits of the female labors.

I too have a stalking-hunting side all of which I am too aware of and like most women there is a tiny part of myself that wants justice when tricked or sold false dreams under the guises of stability. I've seen this time and time again, especially in Boca Raton. The women there are cruel to the point of destruction for "teaching him a lesson."

That is not my style, but I do think to myself, "I'm on to you freaky little Naked Guy!"

"How many people would you like to see it?" I text back.

Shooting fish in a barrel.

"All your friends in south fla but as many as you like." He texts back.

I text him:

"I'm only online in the morning since I don't have internet at home so I won't see it until morning."

He texts me back so fast:

"Isn't there someway you can go online now?"

Sheish! I wonder how long he can keep the erection he has going and how long I want to play this game.

"Sorry, not until morning, but go ahead and send it and I promise to watch it first thing in the morning at Starbucks."

See, I think this will be good! Watching this one-ball video with my venti coffee at 5:30 AM with all my Starbucks pals! What a treat! I'll be sure to let all of the women of south Florida not only watch it via email but heck, if it's good, I'll even take it on the road!

I receive no text messages from Naked Guy for about an hour. My thoughts drift to Sheryl Crow and Lance Armstrong. He's such a hottie and so accomplished...Tour de France winner how many times? So fit. So into the physical. And the beautiful Sheryl talented. Their break-up was so sudden in my eyes. Of course I'm not a personal friend but I did wonder for a long time why did they break up? What happend?

I wondered what kind of video Lance Armstrong made about his testicle.

Naked Guy texts me once more:

"Are you sure you can't go online right now?"

By now I'm tired. It's nearly 11 PM and I get up super early to write at liker 4:30 AM. Enough is enough.

I text back:

"I can understand cancer. I can understand loosing a testicle. I can accept life-threatening illnesses but it takes 2 to play. I am interested in housesitting and friendship. If you are looking for something else, perhaps you should place another kind of ad. If you honestly need help with your home I am still open to that idea."

I know, a lot of words for a text but I really wanted to get it all out. Plus, there is no bigger turn off than a reality check for anyone who is off in fantasy land.

I turn my phone off and go to bed. In the morning I check my email and sadly there is no video from Naked Guy. A part of me is really disappointed. I wanted to see the one-ball video. And if I had it, I'd share it here.

I sent Naked Guy one last email that said I was willing to accept his one ball and that I was still interested in housesitting for him. I listed all the things I could offer for his home that I noticed and that I was not uncomfortable developing a friendship with him. I told him my story about illness and I was honest and open in my email.

I've heard nothing from Naked Guy. He did tell me he was traveling so I thought perhaps he was out of the country and didn't have email.

This morning I did a search for housesitter on and all of his postings came up! In fact, as early as this morning he had reposted the housesitting position!

Should I post the link here? I mean, maybe I'm not the perfect housesitter for him. Perhaps it is a prerequisite to watch the video before becoming his housesitter...I don't know. What I do know is that there are a lot of women in South Florida who are missing out on a potentially awesome video about a naked venture capitalists with one ball.

So ladies, if you get the video, please email it to me at:

And I am back to where I started. I've considered changing my opinion about the word Nudist but I can't after this encounter. Perhaps if I meet a midget nudist they could convince me.

So much love,
All the way from over here...

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Handsome Man IX

Handsome Man,
when you feel
all alone,
kneel to the mirror. 
Look into 
your eyes.
See my



Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Cro-Magnon Man

My recent dip into the dating pool has lead me to Cro-Magnon Man.  During college, I found anthropology a dull study. but I could not blame my professor for my lousy experience.  My expectations were unrealistic.  I expected anthropology to include a hot professor, in a great pair of Gap Chinos, looking all sexy in a wool, felt Fedora gallivanting off on wild adventures in far away, exotic lands.  You know, the whole Indiana Jones package.  I am certain half of the women in my class signed-up for the same reason and were equally disappointed.  I ended up dropping anthropology when my professor was called away on a dig, returned two weeks later and never mentioned what happened on his travels.  In class, he went straight back to the text book picking up from where we left off.  When I raised my hand and asked him what happened on his travels, he said that it did not pertain to our area of study and returned to carbon dating and the importance of accuracy in blah blah blah.  I calmly gathered my things, walked out of his class and headed to the registrar's office to drop him like it's hot.  No need to waste my time.  College was not where my education of Cro-Magnon Man started.

My education about Cro-Magnon Man came from the William Penn Museum in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.  In the mid-1970's, I was fortunate enough to be pulled along on my mother's spiritual quest.  This adventure took my sisters and I through many christian based religions. Luckily, early on her quest she stumbled upon Transcendental Meditation (TM) mostly because the Beatles were into it and my mom was a smoking, hot, momma living life on the cutting edge.  So no matter what kind of Jesus activities we had going on, we meditated twice daily for twenty minuets, like it or not.

A typical Sunday for my sisters and I included waking up, meditating, rushing to get out of the house to go see Jesus somewhere, then off to a Sunday lunch with relatives or maybe Wendy's then hurrying to the downtown museum where they played free classic movies in an beautifully decorated ornate old stadium seating theater.  Mother loves the movies and we were given the choice to either roam the museum or watch the movie, but she was not to be disturbed until after the movie ended.  Sometimes I stayed to watch whatever was playing, especially if it was in Technicolor, but typically, I chose to roam the museum. 

It was a great place for a curious young girl on a rainy Sunday afternoon.  My adventures started on the top floor and I worked my way down.  There was a full planetarium up there and I loved watching the latest show.  That  feeling of  being in that big, round room reclined  in a springy seat, watching the afternoon sky slowly turn to twilight  then dusk with the rising stars and the skies softly becoming midnight blue and the comic book drawings of Orion and Sagittarius projected in the distance, and if I squinted just so, I swear could almost believe how those tiny white lights in the domed ceiling could really be Leo the Lion and Gemini the Twins.  The deep voiced audio of the shifting cosmos was almost like the voice of God showing me the path of the Universe.  This was my quiet, happy place.  My place of imagination and vision of where we really come from and what was it all about?  The Universe seemed so vast and mysterious it left great space for considering other possibilities and philosophies.

After the show I would roam the lower three floors of dusty, aging exhibits of our great Pennsylvania history from the beginning of time, including Neanderthal Man and all his friends.  I spent more time looking at the stuffed Lynxes than the heavily muscled upper-body of the subspecies to our known modern humans.  While I found the fashion appealing (don't get me started on how turned on I get from a man in a skirt!   Thank you Utility Kilt for your catalog!), the setting I found uninspired.  Some dusty caves and fire pits, a few rocks thrown around here and there.  Not as interesting as the planetarium, but it all can't be comic book cut-outs and booming voices. 

Those countless hours in the museum taught me a few things about the human man (my favorite topic!) and I am honored to share my knowledge.  Cro-Magnon Man is the variety of pre-humans who come from Central Europe and the most highly evolved of the Neanderthal Man from which we all are descendants of unless if you are a devout christian and you do not believe in evolution so it is highly unlikely that you will have stuck around this long to pipe in your hocus pocus creation story. 

Anthropologists believe that their port of entry was near Romania.  This location interests me now since I tend to date men mostly from a European descent.  Many of the female skull remains are riddled with skull fractures implying the Cro-Magnon man was perhaps responsible for these injuries.  Cro-Magnon Man was thought to have a temper and have violent rages, thus the image of the woman being dragged off by her hair is a common image in many people's mind.  If more stair cases were found within the cave dwellings or even ladders like the Anasazi Indians had in their cliff dwellings, then tripping and falling down the stairs would have been a more obvious conclusion.  But the cold hard fact remains that the female Cro-Magnon probably talked too much.

That has not yet been properly documented, but it is cocktail conversation somewhere on some college campus.

Cro-Magnon Man has a temper and he's gotten a bad reputation.  The cold hard fact is that Cro-Magnon man is misunderstood.  To his credit, he had a large brain which made him feel very smart.  Cooked food remains have been found between teeth suggesting the ability to use tools and  fire with intended knowledge.  Some scientist believe that the remains that are buried with necklaces implies that Cro-Mag held ceremony and may have had knowledge to natural healing.  And it is also believed that there was a lot of in breeding. 

Poor Cro-Mag is just a victim of his circumstances. 

What does all of this have to do with me and dating?


So much love,
All the way from over here...

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Handsome Man VIII

Handsome Man,

slavemaker ants

prefer to

enslave the


Yet another

reason to


to this