Let the bodies hit the floor

It was one of the first pleasent nights we have had since the weather broke. I had cleaned the dog kennel early in the day, Its pretty much an out door bedroom, in my opinion. It happens to be the same dementions as my bedroom, in fact! I put the boys out there thinking that they would enjoy the fresh air.

The people next door have regular arguments. Its quite commonplace. I usually tune them out pretty well, but that night it had gotten pretty rough. I woke to the sound of the dogs barking. It sounded like they were about to absolutly loose their minds out there. I jumped up and threw on my robe. I could hear their voices outside intermingled with growls and barking. It was after midnight.I decided I had to bring them inside. I ran out the back door barefoot. When I got to the end of the house I saw a figure in the street. He was lit pretty well by the orange-sulfer glow of the street light above him.

The figure was holding a shotgun.

It was the husband from next door. He was standing the with one hand on his hip and the other grasped the shotgun about half way down the barrell. I was frozen. I did not dare make a move until I figured out what he was up to. 

I could see the wife through the front window. She loked frazzled but ok. Then she ran out the front door. She bent down and picked up a rock and threw it towards him. Was she serious? A rock? That can't end well! He pointed the barrel at her. I wanted to scream! But Copper ain't stupid. I stood my ground. 

I stood my ground well over an hour. They argued. They wrestled. He slapped her. She punched him. He broke her phone. She grabbed the gun. He choked her and got it back.

Noone called the police. I waited outside.

After a while they got quieter. I had not seen the gun in a while. Soon she walked back inside. He lit a smoke and stood under the street light, and get this... he was blowing smoke rings. Just as cool and calm as you please. It gave me chills.

After flicking the butt into the street he went inside too. I stood there contemplating what to do next. I really did not want to leave my dogs out with this madman. I walked ever so softly and let them out. They ran furoiusly towards the back door. My heart was in my throat. What if he had heard. I played it cool and saundered back to the house.

Only once we were inside did I begin to shake. I was scared. Living alone don't usually bother me. I have Super Woman Syndrome. I feel like I don't need anyone. I lived through the Grand Asshole, I can take on anything. Not this night. This night I was truly scared. I needed someone to hold onto, someone to protect me. But Super Copper had to go it alone, but she did drink a beer in complete darkness at 2 am on a saturday morning.

I had layed down somewhere about 3. The dogs were right outside my bedroom door. I was feeling pretty cozy and i guess I drifted off to sleep.

BAM! BAM!

BAM! BAM! BAM!

My mind hears it before I can understand it. My body smacks against the hardwood floor! I must have hit the deck before I actually woke up. Now here I lay. Hurting. Some of you will remember I have been here before and let me tell you, the floor has not softened up a bit! I listen.

BAM! BAM!

to be continued...

Five Star Bitch

Yes, thats what he said said. Someone told me today that I am a Five Star Bitch. Wow! Thanks for the compliment. That was so sweet of you, you Classy Bastard! Thing is, i believe that he actually thought I was going to take those words and feel warm and fuzzy toward him because he cared enough to utter them.


I guess in his way, he was giving me a compliment. But where are we as women if we choose to let the media and music set out boundries? He is calling me a bitch and we have not even went out yet. What a future I would have to look forward to! I think I have been there before and thank you, but no!


What would it take to be a Five Star Bitch? I have no idea why I feel the need to capitalize that title, unless its just the sheer audasity of the phrase itself, that deserves to be honored. I have heard the Yo Gotti track so I suppose we should look at the term bitch as the media portrays it to be basically another word for woman. So what about five star? I it a typical 5 of 5 rating. Well my Rate-My-Face page has sled steady at a 9.3 for many years now, but thats not 10 of 10 so im about a 4.something star to internet land. By the way Copperstiletto is NOT my ratemyface name so, if your curious, don't even try. But I guess it is supposing alot for me to think you would, so moving on. 


Five star would also include such things as independance. I would have to give myself a five here. Sorry, but I am.  Financial security, umm, four. And that may be pushing it some months. I do have my own house and car. Guess that stands for something. So what are the other catagories that I am missing here? Looks to me like my assesment would land me at about a Four Star Bitch. I think I a cool with that.


As for the Five Star Bitch, well as the song says,  ...let me know when you meet her.


Copper

I'm happy in my car

Today I noticed something about myself. There are many places I love to be, I enjoy my job, really love being at home, its nice to visit friends and family, but where I am really comfortable, is in my car. From the drivers seat of my car I feel empowered. I am safe and protected. Its funny just how comfortable I can get.  I will catch myself getting to deep in the radio. Putting on a concert for the rearview mirror. Speakers blaring, its no use to try to see out of it or the back windsheild because they, along with the headlights, are bouncing to the beat with me.

If I have to make an important or stressful call to make, most of the time I do it from my car. I can muster up such bravery while surrounded by that hunk of shiny sheet metal. Any serious conversation is no worry for me while I am sitting there. Its windows, tinted the shade of a permanent marker, conceal me and I am in my safe place. Like a dog's den, it is my sanctuary. Noone can hurt me here. I have spent long hours crying in my car, trying to make sense of it all. Spent many more singing and laughing to myself.

Yes, I know its silly...

But you take 'happy' wherever you may find it.

Copper

Unattainable

There are certain situations that, if awarded the opportunity, a person would truly give all they had inside of them to make that situation become a lifestyle.

Sounds almost simplistic in nature, but none the less true. You would cherish each moment in its entirety. When you have a craving from deep within your core, a permanent ache, you are consumed with desire. When you have caught fleeting glimpses of the feeling that you so long for it causes an obsession to develop. Like a drug, you are constantly seeking that initial high. The pain is almost pleasant in that it is a constant reminder of what you had and how desperately you want it to be yours.

How does it feel to know that that which you want so badly is out of your reach? Even if just slightly . Sometimes it can be so close you can taste it. Maybe your fingertips can occasionally graze the object of your beloved obsession lightly, but never able to grasp and hold on.

But somehow, you keep reaching, stretching, pushing the limits of relationships and your imagination. Your soul is restless. Hoping beyond hope that somehow, someway, you will find peace.

Copper

I'll just wear mine

I was thinking about life the other night and a strange analogy occurred to me. I thought I would share it with the women here. Men you still may learn something so please continue.

Let us pretend for a moment that we live in a world far different from the what we accustomed to. Lets ponder the clothes you are wearing now. For illustrative sake we will say it is a dress. Let's also say that, during life here, that each woman is awarded one dress, just one. Now some will get ball gowns, some sun dresses, some a plain single color sheath, but each has theirs, and only theirs, to wear.

I would say that you would protect your dress from all stain and soil. You would reinforce the seams often, making them resist the stress of everyday wear and tear. You would want to keep it as clean and presentable as you could.

Now imagine, for a moment, that you get a hole torn in the dress from a struggle one day. You moved the wrong way and it just happened. It would hurt, wouldn't it? You would try to think up all sorts of ways to put it back like it was, but it can never be exactly the same. So you begin to think of was to handle the pain.

You could try to take someone elses dress, but even if you could wrestle it away from them, it would never quite fit right and you would live with a feeling of guilt from then on.

You could stitch it up alone, it would close the hold. There would always be a scar with frayed edges. The cool air would seep in occasionally to remind you not to make that move, lest the same thing repeat itself.

You could borrow bits and pieces from friends and quilt a patch for the hole. It covers well, and you feel warmer, but somewhere underneath, you will always remember it was there, it just don't bother you much anymore.

Lastly, you could strip off the dress and walk around bearing all, risking everything. It will be refreshing and fun, but eventually, you will get uncomfortable, and seek out your old comfy, warn in, fits you perfect, dress.

I think i will just be proud of my dress, open gaps, large quilted areas, jagged lines where I have tried to fix myself without help. I am proud of my rips and stains.

At least I have lived!

Copper

When I grow up

I want to be Cinderella! That was my 8 year old answer to growing up. I was a spoiled child. Not rotten in need of a swift kick in the ass. I was made walk the line. I have mentioned before that I was raised in Free Will Baptist household. We were at the church every time the doors were opened. I had chores and responsibilities... but I was spoiled too. I am an adopted only child. Makes for a special kid. I was wanted, chosen and planned for. Since I was so darn special, my parents wanted to give me everything my little heart desired. It was an enchanted life. So it makes sense that to me growing up to live life like a fairytale was certainly plausible. I expected the ease and gentleness of my parents house to simply flow over into mine when adulthood dawned. Their perfect marriage, bills always paid, check book in the black. I expected to take family vacations with my children, and I expected it all to just somehow... happen.

I have had to build my life like the rest of the world. I was not ushered to the door of my home in a carriage fashioned from a pumpkin. I have learned to accept the struggles as learning experiences. The kids and I have eaten many potato chip and whatever is in the cabinet" casseroles. We have had garage sales at our Secion 8 housing apartment to buy gasoline. Over time I have been blessed to be able to establish a life for my children and I, we are doing quite well now.

This past CHRISTmas I was very proud of the spread I was able to put underneath the tree. There were actually gifts worth more than few dollars and many of them. I watched with anticipation as they tore through the paper and ribbon. They were pleased, and i was too. I felt it was one of the best CHRISTmas' we had had so far.

A few weeks ago I mentioned to my son that I felt this way, He is 14 going on 20 and sometimes the thimgs that he says really throw me for a loop. This was one of those times. He ponders what I said for only a second then says "know what mom?" "I think the best CHRISTmas' were the ones where we really didn't have much but each other." "It made everything small feel so big!"

Guess I am doing something right!

Copper

Sticky Situation

This happened to me about a month ago. Leave it to me, eh? A few of my friends have heard this story in short form but i felt it was worth sharing.





If you have been here before then it should not come as a shock to you that I frequent the local adult novelty store. They have really cute jewelry there and you know I love the exotic heels they sell! (I am certain that i will be compared to a man with his "i just read those magazines for the articles" line for that one) But seriously, I don't make a B-line to the hot pink-'feels like real skin'-powerful vibration section! I like to look at the stuff in the front of the store too!





So the other day I pass by the store on the way home from work and the sign out front said:

!NEW SHIPMENT JUST ARRIVED!

PANDORA COLLECTION

CHECK IT OUT TODAY

I'm not too tired and I am curious to know what Pandora collected. I pull up and park. Of course I'm still wearing what I did to the office, black dress slacks, red sweater and black stilettos. It would have never occurred to me that I would look like anything other than a simple office worker with a touch of style. You will see why this is important as you read on.

I pick up my purse and drop my keys inside then walk in casually. To the left there are some very adorable bra and panty sets that catch my eye immediately. As begin flipping through them. Nothing I can't live without.

As I continue to walk around the store I see that the lady behind the counter is watching me quite intently. Does she think I am gonna steal something? Surely not. As I get closer to the counter she steps from behind it and approaches me. She pretty, a bit portly but carries it well. Nice smile but needs to leave the knits alone and go with a much more structured ensemble.

Then one of the strangest conversations I have ever had begins. She asks how I was doing, I reply in the typical nonchalant way. She tells me she has something that just arrived that I will love and would love amazing on me. The Pandora Collection? I was slightly excited. I follow her to the far side of the counter where she produces a small silver box. Hmm. She tells me that I could wear these to work and everyone would love them. I am thinking some sexy rhinestone earrings. Not quite.

Pasties! Nice ones, I have to give her that. They are silver and have dangling gemstones. Woulda made a killer pair of earrings!

Then I think... wait... she thinks I am a stripper! Not that its a bad gig, I hear there is plenty of money to be made. I just never tried it. But why does the think this? Is it the way I am dressed? I am not lude or inappropriate.

It concerns me that she would automatically assume anything at all about me. A good sales person asks questions about the customer before making an offer of any product. I explained to her that she was incorrect about my profession, as politely as I could, thinking that was the end of that.

But wait...

this woman does not get it!

She says, still smiling: But you DO do this on the side don't you?

Unbelievable!

Copper

The Kitchen Table

... is where i sit. I think I need to pop the top on the single beer i have left. He has been chilling in the old Kelvinator down in the basement for about a week now. Its been a pleasant week at work and I really have not felt the urge to indulge. Surely due to part of me still being in Heaven. I have a feeling that there will always be a part of me that is. Like a VCR with a tape trapped inside, i replay that magical night over and over again.


The dogs are play fighting in the living room. The two huge Labs shake the floor and make the basement echo their thumps throughout the otherwise silent house. So do I consume my friend or let him wait it out? Its almost eight. But what do I have to loose. I am sure I will go to bed shorty anyway. Why not...


I noticed that alot of my friends here are gone now. Oh, there are a few still around. Sporadic posts. But who am I to talk huh? Sometimes life gets in the way of itself. Hopefully there will be a few float back in on the wings of change to report some wonderful news one day.

Their absence has left a void in my readers. But who am I here to please anyway? Its not like I will ever do this for a living. Although I would love to, I do not possess the necessary talent to be a writer. But I love to write!

I noticed that I have received a few comments from a couple of new readers. I went perusing through blogs last night and found a few I really liked. For any of you that decided to return tonight and possibly drink from the well that is Copper... WELCOME!

I mean that in the most sincere of ways. You truly are welcome here anytime. You may leave comments, rant or whatever you like. If for some reason you desire my twisted opinion on any subject, feel free to ask.


So good friends i will leave you to descend the stairs to the basement. My friend is calling...

Copper

Heaven

I experienced a night in Heaven.

It was an explosion of passion that shook the world inside of me as it had never been shook before.

I was taken in by a pair of soulful eyes and a New York accent. I melted. I succumbed to the rhythm of his bittersweet swagger.

He called to me. I arrived, nervous. I had been with him before but not like this. This was much different. The air was thick with desire. He lay undressed and lay down before me. He was a beautiful man. Built like Solomon, he was almost intimidating. I approached, slipped off my dress and rose up to embrace my trembling body. His hands, Oh his hands! They slid from my shoulders to my waist to my hips.

He pulled me down beside him. Has he caressed my breast his other hand explored me. I was drenched in desire as he whispered in my ear that he was so pleased that i came to his side. As he entered me electricity coursed through my body leaving my fingertips numb. He filled me. He was so deep inside of me i am certain he touched parts of me that had never been reached before. I was consumed with pleasure as was he.

We continued this dance together for hours. Stopping to rest then beginning again with more fever than the time before. We consumed each others passion until we were strangely both empty and full.

Only then did we lay together to truly rest. My head on his strong chest, his arm around me. We lay in the silence. The cool air from the open window above felt alive on my moist nude body. This is what Heaven must feel like. It was the kind of contented calm that fills one with peace. He played in my hair until we both fell deep asleep.

In the morning he told me it felt as a dream. I concurred. I did not want it to be over, but reality rises with the morning sun. We kissed once more. I felt a tear escape my eye as I turned to leave.

We vowed to come back to each others arms again one day.

I can only hope, dream and remember ... Heaven.