The Dixon Discourse

Several things on my mind today but one in particular at the moment - bear with me. I never had any traffic violations until after I was 30. No wrecks, no tickets, nothing. I think I'd had one fender bender in college but it wasn't my fault, and because I was driving a SAAB there was no damage to my car. (Steel girder for a bumper and all.) After I turned 30 it seemed like I was making up for lost time - those Eugene, OR police are ON IT! I got tickets for all SORTS of things... some of which were truly ridiculous. My license was even suspended for 30 days at one point (I could only drive to work and back) because I'd had too many tickets in a 6 month period! I'm not bragging or proud, in fact it seemed like I was being targeted and that kind of freaked me out. You should see how police officers approach a car that's been pulled over a lot. They walk differently; cautiously and hyper-alert. It was scary at times. There *were* one or two things during that decade t...

"Y'know what? I don't mince words. I try to speak kindly, and often with humor, but I don't play games. I'm not passive aggressive. I speak my mind, make known my needs and concerns, and converse openly and, for the most part, without judgment towards the opinions and comments of others. I am as honest and humble as I can be when it comes to admitting my faults and shortcomings: the laundry list of which is long and tiresome. I make no bones about being a work in progress. I don't seek admiration for my honesty, I'd just like the same in return. I think I've decided that I just don't have time for anything other than a genuine existence and genuine relationships. I cannot be who I'm not and I don't expect anyone else to be who they are not. In light of this fact I realize there comes a time when you have to sort through things and keep the stuff that fits and works, and discard, regardless of sentiment, the things that don't fit and don...

Ugh! I wanna be irritated and disgusted. I wanna be sarcastic and biting. I wanna be rude. What am I saying? I am irritated and disgusted. I am being sarcastic and biting (under my breath, at least - and on my blog). I am being rude. Okay, maybe I just want to be heard. Maybe I just want to say what comes to mind. Maybe I just want to be brutally honest. I can probably be honest without the brutal... Maybe I just don't want you to assume you know where I'm going with this line of thinking or this course of action: because you don't know me. This hasn't been going on long enough for you to assume anything about me. I'm not being mean. I'm being protective - it is different. Don't laugh it off when you realize you were wrong. Shut your mouth! Okay maybe you were being protective, too. I can admit that. Next time I'll ask. Or maybe next time I'll do the whole thing differently. Maybe there won't be a next time. That would be nice... I'm no...

One side up one side down too much movement sick on the ground

I moved here to work. That's it. The fact that my biological family is here, well, that's a bonus, sure, but as much as I've grown to care about them, they aren't the reason I moved. I moved for the job. SO! I'm working! It hasn't been easy. There have been a lot of personality clashes, a lot of illness causing absenteeism on my part, more personality clashes, and enough drama to qualify me for a degree in it. But I'm working... Yep, I'm working... When I started at SCRI, overtime was almost mandatory: extra hours were always available because the department I was in needed to catch up with the quickly growing business. When things slowed down temporarily during the holidays I was able to help out in another department where, once again, things were behind. Tons of overtime hours required again. Life was good! Tiger wasn't here yet so I didn't have anything to come home to other than television. I was able to buy my car, move into an apartme...

The feeling you should take a chance and risk it all. The notion you should take the leap and risk a fall. An urgency you sense to make a pivotal change. Admitting all that was familiar now seems strange. Seeing something known but in a different light. Standing close but out of reach and out of sight. Willing what should be and holding out all hope. While hoping to avoid the past; the dangling rope. Realizing no mistake except in timing. Stepping back and waiting now, the outcome: rhyming.

Tonight I write; for right and for spite, the trite and the bite, the oversight, wanting to take flight. Tonight I type; taking a swipe, addressing the hype, the time beyond ripe for this healing gripe. Tonight a diatribe, with a fighter's vibe I'm taking a gibe and as I ascribe I cease to imbibe. ...and the big sigh is a sure sign. Time to do this line by line. When I first started this little bit of processing I was one day short of a year in writing again. Of course, now that I've taken some time to re-think the direction of where I was going with this particular train of thought, I have missed the mark by 19 days. Ah well. This one day short phenomenon happens often with me and writing/journaling. One day short of a month, one day short of a week, one day short of a decade... It's as if God has set some kind of one-day-shy alarm clock in me that makes me wake up one day before some kind of deadline that probably only seems important to me. I...