<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rdf:RDF xmlns="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#"><channel rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/BlogRss.aspx/Clarajolie"><title>Back Door Man (1980 - 1982) - Blogit</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/</link><description>I lived on my own from 18 - 21 in the early eighties.  I think we can all learn about my experience in the city that was not hip, but some of us were striving to be.  it's rough on the frontier.  my memoir was called "Back Door Man"</description><sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod><sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency><sy:updateBase>2000-01-01T12:00+00:00</sy:updateBase><items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/736801" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/736780" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/734511" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/733278" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/733034" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732939" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732743" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732657" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732545" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732498" /></rdf:Seq></items></channel><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/736801"><title>The Bellman, con't</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/736801</link><description>one day, we were washing the dishes together and chatting and Mr. Willy Cat. had placed himself between the wall and the drying rack in a meatloaf shape - paws tucked under his front, tail coiled around his body and purred for us a little purr. his strips of silver and brown all carefully tongue...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/736780"><title>The Bellman, The Butcher, The Baker</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/736780</link><description>The Bellman " They sought it with thimbles, and they sought it with care; They pursued it with forks and hope; They threatened its life with railway share; They charmed it with smiles and soap" Louis Carroll, "The Hunting of the Snark" c. 1874 Trace was the Bellman, the leader of us all, that...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/734511"><title>Turn That Heartbeat Over Again</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/734511</link><description>I really didn't need an extra evil spirit stalking me. after all, I had a built in one: menstruation. (on top of manic depression). it would hit without warning like a sky diving Kamikaze pilot. even though I had PMS for a week ahead of time, almost a baby bump, and massive mood swings on top of...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/733278"><title>Blessings, Hexings, &amp; Crossings</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/733278</link><description>Blessings - what the spiritually balanced person receives in life from a combination of clean living habits, optimistic disposition, in touch with Higher Self, and a "charmed" life. ever notice how a person who's good to everyone, generous and happy to help, always seems to have plenty, and a...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/733034"><title>Robert (2)</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/733034</link><description>he didn't like the blackberry syrup or the apricot syrup either at the IHop, I recall "you can ignore them," I suggested. he gave the syrups, backed up along the wall in a holder, there were four in all, a chilling look. "there's no reason in the world for all this bullshit." he exclaimed. then...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732939"><title>Robert (1)</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732939</link><description>Robert looked like an outtake from a Snuff movie. he mostly wore black, he was quickly becoming my BFF. Robert was a real actually throw away kid because he was a juvi with a lot of books. and a cat named Berlin. he was tall and skinny like me, but even more hyperventilate - he had been an abused...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732743"><title>I know, but I don't know</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732743</link><description>my life was getting more lurid as the weeks in the city dragged on before I started school. but if it didn't work out, what was going to do? go home to mommy &amp; daddy? no. starve out in the streets by Yum Yum Donuts? no. find a copy of End to Torment by Hilda Doolittle (American Poet, H. D.),...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732657"><title>it's 11:59 &amp; I want to stay alive. . . .</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732657</link><description>I always said if I just kept my Blondie records, I'd be 18 forever. if that were even desirable. 1980 does not inspire me in way to be 18 again. for one thing, my manic depression, of which I did not know I was suffering from, was getting out of control. I ate next to nothing, slept hardly ever,...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732545"><title>"didn't I ever tell you I was gone?"</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732545</link><description>suddenly, without reason, I became afraid of Gina, my best friend from high school. she lived in an apartment around 4 blocks from me. but she became a little uffish when I quit my job, smoked weed all day, ate nothing but sweets, read lit books she had already read and owned the copyrights to,...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732498"><title>First Night</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/Clarajolie/732498</link><description>It was Jan 12th, the day that go down in infamy at 18. because it was so simple, all they did was move my books and papers, and I lived in Chicago, near the Lake, near the Ball Park, 1980. my roommate was a Louis Carroll character - pick anyone you like, I'm thinking the Caterpillar, but even the...</description></item></rdf:RDF>