Seeing as I breastfed till I was 5, according to researchers, my IQ should be off the charts.
I have no faith in these things.....orrr, maybe I have too little faith in myself.

For a mere $50 I will now give you answers to any questions or problems you may have lost many a night of sleep over.

(my fee is based on careful analysis of profitability ratio per square value of brain output and predicted gross profit)


thunder. thumper.

Thunderstorms excite me to no end.
Red wine turns me on.

I'm a ball of arousal this evening.

geek heaven

I just got my computer tower sent down to me which makes me one very happy girl-star child.
It's been sitting up in Texas storage for months while I hiked around. Now that I'm a little more settled (nervous chuckle) I have it again. Boy, I can't wait to get to all my nerdy little files. Only, I did a very dumb thing when I was dissasembling it (I carried the hard drive, motherboard, etc around with me in my backpack) and that was: I didn't back up my hard drive anywhere.
Sooo, depending on how careful I was with my stuff, I may or may not Have all my Precious Nerdy Files. I'm also planning on redesigning my blog graphics. All these ambitious plans -- and I've got dial-up to contend with (can you say "FRUSTRATION" 3 times fast?).

UPDATE...I most likely will be moving yet again..I'll keep you posted.

I know you just come to this blog to make yourself feel good about how stable and in control you are.

I know I do.


there's no such thing as bad publicity

Because I have endless time on my hands, arms and legs -- on a whim I decided to compile a comprehensive (or maybe not so) list of all the blogs belonging to Arabs, could-be-Arabs or Arabian Horse Breeders.

In perusing them I see that they tend to refer to some "Allah" character alot, (passing strange) starve themselves for a whole month of the year (uncomfortably strange), and i've yet to see a picture of a womans' face in the lot...they've got this thing for covering their faces.
Creepy if you ask me.
Their past is also peppered with suspicious activities, apparently they've taken over whole countries for some "holy war" and mock our western forms of entertainment, citing us/them as infidels and perverse. Oh, and they kill goats!

But to rid them of these unfair sterotypes, please check out these sites and see that they actually function quite normally. Have no extra eyes, ears or genitals, seem to behave quite well in social settings and are generally helpful neighbors. (If you ignore the squeal of dying goats)

Ah shoot! What are the chances! I somehow lost my hard-earned list.

Well in other news, apparently I'm rather famous. This means that when refering to me, no longer use the name "Liz" or "Elisabeth" -- I much rather the title "El Liz" or better yet, "Notorious L.I.Z" (that's for when my rap career takes off -- best recognize. word.)

It all reminds me of this movie I saw once. This little boy goes running up to the hero/demi-god who's called on to fight another hero of impressive build.

The kid says in awe: "I'd be too scared to fight him. He's huge"..or something to that extent.

To which Our Hero replies sternly and with feeling,

"That is why no one will remember your name." (pause for effect)

I'm certainly not angry. I'm actually rather pleased and proud. Only, I feel slightly frustrated with the persistent obtusity of some people.
Like watching someone beat their head repeatedly against a wall. Not that I have strong feelings about where you hit your head but after a while, it gets annoying. So stop.
Maybe you understand what I'm talking about and if you do, and feel ashamed or have a headache, I'd like to offer you a clever option. Because I know it's always good to have a channel for your anger -- otherwise you're just a turd that no one wants to hang out with, here: Ta Da! I give you an alternative. Sic em!

Enjoy and Allah Bless:)

Disclaimer: All posts on this site are courtesy of Me and Me alone and are not official policy or opinion of the Family International or WS.
Although the good ones might be influenced by God;) Gracias.


if you're not appalled, you haven't been paying attention.

James Nachtwey

The Sunburned in her Splendor

Some folks from the Other Home came by the Other Night unexpectedly to take me to see Star Wars. It was terribly loving of them (thanks guys, you're swell!)
It was as can be hoped from any Star Wars movie. Lots of swirling lights and bad dialogue, only all the puzzle pieces click into place. I liked it, I did. Especially the robot with lung cancer. The best line:
"So this is how liberty ends, to the sound of thunderous applause."


I'm not a good movie reviewer, I'll let Hobbyns do it when he sees it (muaha). Not much of a movie person meself...it takes sitting still for too long when there's just so much to see and do.

I spent the next day chilling at their house in and around their pool which was great but has left me looking like i'm a Red Indian wearing a very white bikini. Yea. Exactly like that.
Highlight: I DID see their Romanian Guest walking around the lawn in his thong (he was elderly). Gotta love Europeans.(grin)

To give credit and thanks: I'm listening and I'm a-liking, "To Own". My favorites so far are track 2 and 6 whatever they're called. If it's the same one that F|35h said, congratulations on your good taste:) Speaking of Jason, there's a captivating picture of him here.
Thanks bud, hehe.

And finally, I came across this -- a snippet from a longer article written by a friend of mine who's been sick a long time. I don't think, given the same unbelievably trying circumstances, I would ever have the strength and just absolute grace that she has. I very, very much admire her.

"Science with all its knowledge and experience hasn't come up with any pills for true inner peace that transcends any circumstances.

There is no magic potion for a soul lost in hopelessness,
no tonic for a spirit crushed under the weight of an unbearable burden.

I have been there, and I have found that peace. Though my outward condition remains unchanged, inwardly I have been healed-healed of an inner pain more difficult to bear than pain itself.
I am free!"


After the burning rubble....

When something important is going on, silence is a lie. -- Rosenthal


Who writes this stuff? Neato.

Black and white resolve
One foot in your heart and another
In fishnet stockings.

Purple cords wound around
Us, and pulled us together
And then I electrocuted us
Just once.

She astounded you,
I expressed your astonishment
And painted in acroamatic whispers
Everything dishonest
That you believed...
Some of it mine, and some of it

My hand gripping
Your hand gripping
Like grabbing onto
Each other's souls.
Telling each other, "Go,
And I'll rip your heart out."

Separated by clay
Permeating distance
Restrained by ourselves.

We were very much the same
Once upon a time
Until desire drove us apart
Method carried us
From front to back
And founded us in the epilogue.

We were too acute
To have been taken in by this.
We were too clever
To have not forseen this.

I had no reason to make you feel
Completely and totally
In need of me.
It wasn't uncertainty.
You never had enough (all) of me,
That's all.

A game worth playing is worth playing well.

Our property is lined with low stone fences which, while being a homey touch to the landscape and maybe a perfect way to show off your Olympic Hurdling skills is not very contributory in a 100mph game of Tag (aka Killer Shove Tag).

So get this, I'm spending quality PE time with the children I live with. Fun little buggers, the lot of them. Before long a high-stakes game of Tag is full swing and as aforely mentioned, if you're gonna play -- you might as well make it worth your while.

I'm hanging around behind a lamppost, hoping not to be noticed when I'm spotted by a snarly looking youngster in high-top tennis (or as they're better known here in Mexico, "Speedy Gonzales") I'm off like a shot with Snarling Kid close on my heels, I sprint..faster and faster I go. The wind whipping by me sounds like a faint whistle and my eyes begin to water. Still faster till I feel safe enough to look behind me.

Perfect timing.

A traitorous Low Stone Fence appears out of nowhere, cutting my leg out from under me and sending me sprawling to the other side. The outcome my friend is this: (not for the squeamish)

Okay okay, it looked much worse yesterday. And I'm a sucker for sympathy:)

The good news is, I'm back on my feet and whatever doesn't kill ya' makes ya' stronger.


Party Hearty

The other week we had a party with a gyspy theme, seeing as I AM in Mexico now, it's all the rage. So there's some photos. I think I was something more of a pirate but no one seemed to notice.
This is the cover for the next romance novel I write (cough choke): "The Savage Unchained"

Perfect Picture: says a thousand words.


happy birthday

to you. I wrote you a song like you asked...a year or two late, but -- you know.


Did you hear about the blind skunk that fell in love with a fart?

I've been visiting another home in the city for the past week. It's been an absolute blast, details later. I think my blog is too colorful, and while I love color -- these ones don't compliment each other enough. Will work on that. Right-eo then.


Je t'aime Maman

I've been hearing rumors swirling for the past couple days that one of these preceding or following days is "Mother's Day".

My mommy. It's hard to start with that. Too simple. Too complex.

My mommy can do anything. She's the most talented woman I know, and when I say talented -- I'm thoroughly understating her. She always makes me feel just a bit intimidated. The list would go on and on but the really awesome thing about her, in my opinion, is that with all these amazing skills she could've pursued her dreams (and I know she had many) of fame and grandeur. But instead, she decided to have us.
Thirteen of us to be exact.

She could've been a concert violinist, but she chose to sing us lullabies to sleep.
She could've been a brilliant painter, but she chose to draw us amusing bible stories on the whiteboard.
She could've been a top designer for a giant car company, but she chose to teach us how to make the Best Pumpkin Pie Ever.
She could've been anything but she chose to be our mommy -- the very darn best one at that -- and I couldn't love her more.

We went through our tough spots, when we wouldn't even speak to each other(my fault), when I told her I didn't need her. I don't see how mom's put up with that, especially me, harder than most.
And over the years I've come to realize what an unbelievably strong woman my crazy, funny mother was. Man, everything she's gone through and continues to go through with the bravest of faces.
I took her easy laughter for granted so often when I think what she'd like to have done most is cry. Of all the talents she could pass on to me, it's that one that I'd like the most. The ability to smile through the heartbreak.

It must have been cold there in my shadow,
to never have sunlight on your face.
You were content to let me shine, that's your way.
You always walked a step behind.

So I was the one with all the glory,
while you were the one with all the strength.
A beautiful face without a name for so long.
A beautiful smile to hide the pain.

Did you ever know that you're my hero,
and everything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle,
for you are the wind beneath my wings.

It might have appeared to go unnoticed,
but I've got it all here in my heart.
I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it.
I would be nothing without you.

Did you ever know that you're my hero?
You're everything I wish I could be.
I could fly higher than an eagle,
for you are the wind beneath my wings.

--Bette Midler

So all that to say, I love you my beautiful Mama. Big as the world. Big as the universe. Big as anything.

Second Opinion. and...you heard it here first.

I'm gonna back up (the cool and beautiful) Florecita on those Stock videos. I'm still humming the tunes...makes me wanna go jam. Speaking of which, just yesterday me and my cousin finalized our plans for our hatchling band. We've been chewing around some names. "Grove" and "Crawlback" are our two finalists. Yea. They're deep with hidden meanings which I'll share at another time. (only, remember them, you'll be screaming them later *cheesy but endearing smile*)

As a result, the two of us were all gung-ho to start practicing. Out to the band room we betook ourselves.
Who cares that all we had was a guitarist and a bassist and not really much of either to speak of! We're young and idealistic! We're on top of the world and all that we put our minds to is as good as done!
Heh, okay actually we called on the Almighty Rocker to like, totally blow through us and give us one of those 11th hour annointings.
No sooner do we finish then, like a sign from God, a gust of wind bangs the door open and in walks a chick. She mumbles something about "wanting to watch for a minute" and sits down on the drum stool. We're half-way into our first song (which just seems to be flowing) when I notice there's a Sweet Drumbeat coming from the corner. I look over and there's a Hot Chick Drummer replacing the timid girl who entered a minute ago.

"Hold on a sec." I blurt. "You can drum??"

"No. Never have in my life. I've always wanted to though. I'll stop if you like."

I throw my head back and laugh in amazement. "Welcome to the band."

p.s. did I mention we've got a violin?

This should be Righteous.


Angel of Death

It seems as if the Angel of Animal Death has visited our house over the past week.
For starters it's rained for the past 7 days straight. I don't think I've ever truly seen the like in my life. At least not in this intensity. It is the harbinger of doom.

First off, Blondie was killed. Yes, the Attack Dogs got to her after all. It was tragic. Not only did they brutally slay her but they dug up her remains and had a veritable "goat feast". I admit, I was a tad envious.

Secondly, a cat was mauled.

Next, a baby kitten was eaten.

Lastly, one of said Attack Dogs had puppies. (We didn't know this till we found the puppies.) But sadly, infection set in and two of the little tykes didn't make it. The mother was/is in a bad way. As I speak, she's laying completely motionless, her fate still to be decided.
Seeing as we didn't want mini-Attack-Dog#3 to share the same fate, we took it and put it in a separate box.

I'm never too smooshy with animals. I find that they tend to not live even half as long as I so far have, and as such, I shouldn't create such bonds with them as would put undo strain on my tender heart. (I'm planning on living for at least another 12 years..you can quote me on that)

But this wee pup was different. He was blind, hungry and motherless. It wrenched every single maternal nerve in me and I was helpless. Up to my room it went, swathed in blankets. It got a heating pad, I made it substitue formula of powdered milk and egg yolk, walked a half mile in 5inch deep mud for ingredients, cradled him, gently massaged it's genitalia with a warm cloth to encourage waste, placed a ticking clock in his box to imitate the sound of his mothers' heartbeat. No mother in the wild was more concerned than I for her fragile young.
I pleaded on his behalf for him to be taken to the vet, I fretted, I fed him gently with a sterile syringe, stroked him when he cried out with a soulful wail, woke every 3 hours at night to feed and potty him.

Finally, he was safely asleep in his box, surrounded by warmth, love, and stuffies. I went into the next room to be a guiding educator to some small fry when I heard the little puppy cry out. "Mew", says he. "What is it?" says I.

But too late I arrive to find my little adoptee is dead. Dead. Dead. He has ceased to exist. His spirit soars beyond and my motherly heart flop-flops. I nudge him gently, daring him to move. His little white tongue lolls heavily from his tiny lips. I pull his pink swadling towel gentle over his little black head and say a prayer for his soul.
Happy Hunting Grounds, little guy. I'm happy for you.



I'm so proud of my talented little sis. I read that she performed some of her songs at Wordstock2005 last night. Man, I wish I could've been there to see her. Also, my rocking cuzin Justin Spirit and Plan of Attack. Hmm. Well, since I can't this time around I'll just give huge belated kudos to them all for keeping the Revolution Alive and Kicking. Love you!

Correction: I saw some video clip found here. She's the last one. I'm tickled pink and antcipating the day when the music REALLY gets rolling. Huzzah!!