Breathe Through It...

you're amazing just the way you are

2010-11-12T15:26:00.000-08:00

For the rest of my life, I want the title of this post to be my theme song.

possessions lost

2010-07-11T06:23:00.000-07:00

I hope the person who found the watch I lost loves it as much as I did.

It would make me happy to know it was making someone else happy.

I temporarily forgot there's better days to come...

2010-04-22T14:56:00.000-07:00

The last time I cleaned my daughter's room because I could not stand to see the filth any longer, I got yelled at. My husband, like me, hates the way she doesn't clean her room and will talk and talk and talk about it until I cannot stand listening to him any longer so I go in there and clean it up. It makes both of us feel better. Having the entire house clean except for her room--which is a total disaster--makes us feel like we're keeping a dirty little secret--like we're fake clean people. But when my daughter comes home from work, he will yell at her about how I had to clean her pigpen of a room and then SHE will yell at me for cleaning it because she doesn't want me in her room blah, blah, blah. So I decided that would I resist cleaning it because it feels wrong to be yelled at and sneered at for doing something nice for someone. It's like no one is happy with it dirty and no one is happy with it clean, so why bother? Anyway, I just went into her room to put something away and it's back to being a disaster area. Her trash is overflowing, there is a glass half-filled with orange juice, there are old receipts laying all over the floor, clothes piled all over. I walked out, closed the door and am now trying to pretend that there isn't a mess behind it.

~~~~~~~~~

My husband has to work out of town on Saturday and asked me to go along with him to keep him company. This wouldn't be a problem, but my youngest daughter usually comes home on the weekend and will see this as me slighting her in some way. My life is filled with overly needy people pulling me in opposite directions. I try to stay above the fray by tuning out most of their noise, their pulling, their needing. There is nothing about my life that is how I imagined it would be at this point and I'm trying to forget how I dreamed things would be to make it easier.

~~~~~~~~~

I've been fighting this feeling of envy lately. I'm not jealous, I'm envious. I think jealousy means I want to take something from someone else that they have that I want, and envy means that I don't mind them having something, but that I want what they have for myself as well. Maybe I'm justifying these feelings so they're not so hateful, I don't know. It's just that I'm envious of lots of things lately. Some people would tell me to get off my ass and make things happen for myself, and I would say that's a valid comment to make except I don't know how to make things happen for myself anymore. I'm just lost. Stuck. Trapped.

~~~~~~~~

When I'm out running, I don't feel like I'm part of the world anymore. Everything disappears so it feels like I've popped a magic pill that takes me away from all the things that make me want to scream and scream and never stop screaming. When I'm out running, I sometimes wish I could fly like I can in my dreams. I want to soar above it all--take it all in from a different perspective--clear my head. I want to see what it looks like to be me--what I would think of myself if I could take off then look back to where I am living here on earth.

annoying

2010-04-15T17:08:00.000-07:00

You know what I hate? When I have a blog in my reader and forever I have been reading that blog in the long feed and suddenly the blogger decides to cut the feed to the short feed so that you HAVE to go to the blog to read it.

I don't mind clicking onto the blogs that are on short feeds from the beginning, but I hate it when bloggers switch midstream. Most times, I delete those blogs from my reader because I have lots of blogs that I read and I don't like being annoyed and the switching to the short feeds is an annoyance to me. I think there was one blog that went from long to short feeds that I have continued to read but she's funny and interesting and a great writer.

Anyway, carry on. Just wanted to get that off my chest!

losing my religion

2010-04-03T21:13:00.000-07:00

"Everyone who seeks truth from wisdom will fashion wings in order to fly away and escape from the passion that inflames human spirits. The seeker will fashion wings in order to escape from every spirit that can be seen." - The Book of Thomas from The Secret Teachings of Jesus

Without any regret, I left my religion behind a year ago. It was after lots of searching for the truth and more reading than I have ever done in my life that I decided organized religion was not for me anymore. It hadn't been for a long time, but I did not allow myself to feel comfortable about that choice until I took the time to find out what I needed for me to walk away without feeling anything but peace. It took a lot of time to get here and it was not without lots of sadness for things I felt I had lost along the way--traditions, beliefs, faith in people who were in positions of authority over me for a lot of my life. You wouldn't think that losing a life of lies would be painful, but it was.

After being raised a Catholic from birth and attending Catholic schools all my life, I had never read the Bible. I don't ever remember seeing a Bible in the home I grew up in either, I only remember seeing Bibles in the hotel rooms we would stay in when we went on trips. So I took the time to read it from cover to cover--I did not breeze through it--I studied it. I knew all of the stories from school, but reading them for myself gave me new insight. I came away from reading the Bible having more questions than answers, though, and my experience isn't something that I feel I'm able to articulate properly which is why I haven't written more about it. I felt further away from God, I think, further away from the truth after reading the Bible.

I read everything. I know I said that before but it bears repeating because it means I opened my mind to things I hadn't before. I gave up having to be right about things I was clearly wrong about and it opened up the world to me. When you take a good look at everything, you are able to sift through it all to find what's true. That's what I learned that I will never forget--that you need an excess of information from all sides to get at the truth. I also learned that the truth should be able to withstand all sorts of questions. If someone wants to tell me that I am wrong for questioning things, if they want to shut me up or silence my inquiries, then I immediately know that they are not interested in the truth and I move along.

I read a book a while ago called The Divine Matrix by Gregg Braden. In it, the author talks about how we are all connected to one another--how there are no empty spaces between any of us. There are lines of energy connecting us to other people and other things--we can't see them, but they are there. He talked about how even non-living things experience change when we are in their presence.

The invisible connections that leave behind changes which aren't noticeable to the naked eye help drive home how powerful we are. So much of the time, we are taught to look outside ourselves for answers or for help. The part of the Bible that rang truest for me was Jesus saying that the Kingdom of God is inside us--how we didn't have to look any further than ourselves to find what we're looking for. I believe this is a truth that no one in power really wants to teach us because that would mean we wouldn't need them anymore to tell us what to do, how to live our lives, or what to believe. The funds would dry up if people didn't need organized religion anymore and we can't have that. When big money is at the center of things, I connect the dots and find corruption.

In the end, I come to this: The divine is inside us, outside us, and all around us. The connections we have to everything and everyone brings comfort that we are never alone. We are infinitely more powerful than any of us realize.

what motivates me

2010-04-01T18:20:00.000-07:00

The emotion that motivates me to move is anger.

I do a lot of things out of love, but anger motivates me like nothing else.

Al Sharpton speaks the truth

2010-03-22T11:35:00.000-07:00

“Americans overwhelmingly voted for socialism when they elected Barack Obama."-Al Sharpton

Yay! Socialism!

Who's a conspiracy theorist now?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On a positive note, we did our taxes, and a miracle occurred. We did not owe thousands of dollars in taxes this year. We even got a very little bit back. We are grateful we are still employed in this takedown of the middle class battle.

We are battle ready. We are resilient.

insert sarcasm here

2010-03-06T20:11:00.000-08:00

I don't get many comments here which is fine with me because I stopped writing for comments long ago. I write somewhat anonymously because I hate all the drama associated with blogging. I consider this blog my space and I write for myself because it's what I love to do. I know of a couple of people who read this blog occasionally, although I suspect I have at least one follower from my old blogging days at aol who never comments but seems to check in on me a lot. I don't even mind that it might be someone I know who doesn't want me to know that they've found me as long as they leave me alone and don't start up drama. I've done the drama thing and don't want to go back there. I think most people come here accidentally, however, and never come back. I like it that way because I am not looking for an audience to love me or hate me. I just want to write.

My blog isn't a place I come to so that I can listen to a bunch of blowhards argue with me about what I write without knowing a thing about me. Because that's the thing about blogging--we show people what we want to show them about ourselves--at least that's how I blog. I show you a small part of myself and just trust me that you are not getting a full picture of me or my life. There is no way I can write it out for you, even if I wanted to. I will always be more and less than what you think I am.

So when I received this comment from "Christa" whose profile doesn't lead to anything but a private profile page, I was reminded again how much I despise most people in the blogging world because they tend to make false judgements about people they do not know at all. I've witnessed how hateful these self-important people can be when they comment at blogs where they disagree with what's written or how they perceive a blogger is living his/her life. They're like vultures enjoying a battered and bloody carcase on the side of the road. They're just despicable.

Here's Christa's comment:

Christa has left a new comment on your post "not a hero": Oh give me a break. Seriously, the "if they like their home country so much..." argument is one of the clearest signs of a bigot. Your kids are so lucky of all that you've taught them [insert sarcasm]. Thank God they're being exposed to a little more than the "Heavenly Father" BS you teach. Posted by Christa to Breathe Through It... at March 6, 2010 4:05 PM

Oh no, the bigot card was thrown out at me in an attempt to shut me up. She totally ignores the point that I make about the insanity of these radical, puke liberal professors LYING to their students and rewriting history by telling them that Mao is a hero, a visionary, a poet---instead of a cold blooded evil killer who murdered 70 plus million of his own people. Christa is just happy and relieved that my kid gets exposure to someone who lies about China and Mao instead of telling them the truth. We wouldn't want anyone to think badly of China now would we? That wouldn't be politically correct, would it ? We must make sure that we do not offend any minority because being politically correct is way more important than telling the truth. This is the exact sort of bullshit that is ruining our country. I'm going to call things as I see them and if radical pukes want to call me a bigot or think I'm a bigot, so be it. Radical professors who hate America and pine about the good old days in another country while smack talking America under the guise of educating our youth probably should go back to the land that they love because we don't need them here. We have enough Americans hating on our country as it is and striving their hardest to fundamentally change it into something else.

Christa ends with some nonsense about the"Heavenly father" BS that I teach my children. And this is where I am wondering if Christa is mistaking me for someone else because I have never mentioned religion here except in reference to my personal journey of moving away from organized religion because I do not believe it in anymore. My children were not raised in any religion and this is why I can't stand having some buffoon that doesn't know me from Adam (oh my, a religious reference!!!) coming to my space and making a comment based on nothing that is real. I don't need lectures from an anonymous asshat who doesn't leave a link to a blog she keeps so that I can go to her place and make sure she is pumping out material that suits my beliefs the way she came here to insist in a passive aggressive way that I should think and write things that are more to her liking. I feel really, really bad that I'm did not live up to Christa's blogging standards of political correctness (insert sarcasm!).

When I started this blog, I thought about turning the comments off but it's something you have to remember doing every time you post and I always forgot. I'm putting my comments on moderation so that I don't have to see comments here by people I wouldn't bother knowing in real life. Christa and her ilk are all for being tolerant until someone doesn't say or think just what she considers acceptable and then tolerance gets thrown out the window and the claws come out. She can start her own blog for that purpose. I'm not obligated to give her my space to climb up on a soap box and spew her crap.

something so beautiful

2010-03-05T07:04:00.000-08:00

I was thinking about doing the right thing--how I think it should be easy to always make decisions based on what is right and how I sometimes choose just to go along with things I know are inherently wrong simply because I don't want to make waves or make a scene. I don't know why that is. I don't know if it's an indication of a deep character flaw on my part, but I'm fairly certain that it is. I know it's impossible to be perfect, to live the perfect life, always choosing wisely. But when I look back on my life, I see so many instances where I should have done things differently, when I should have spoken up or questioned more, or fought harder to make my truths be as important as I allowed everyone else's truth be for them. It makes me feel like I've given away important pieces of who I really am--a selling out of my soul for a few moments of serenity that never make up for what I've lost.

I know people who are not afraid of speaking up and defending their truths. Some of them are much younger than me and I wonder where they get the courage to be so strong so early in life. I study everything about those kinds of people looking for clues to see how they make it look so easy. It's taken me half a lifetime to get to the point where I am not afraid anymore, but even now I still find myself tempted to keep my mouth shut because there will be less fallout, less drama if I allow my truths to take a back seat.

Here's the thing: I want to be better than that. I want to risk being uncomfortable. I want to be what I know I can and should be. I've tried to remember back to when it became important to me that I just go along, and all I can remember is that it's how I've always been. I want to be someone different than that because I do not want to regret not changing after recognizing the error of my ways. I don't watch Dr. Phil anymore, but I used to. I think he would say something like, "when you know better, you do better"--and I think that's a perfect sentiment.

Playing it safe for the sake of a false sense of peace is wearing me out from the inside. The people I love best in this world are the people who say what's on their mind and don't worry about anyone else. And I think what I love most about those people is that they seem to have figured out that they are only saying what everyone else is thinking behind your back. They find a way to live their best lives without all the censors most of us have drilled into us and though they might not have a bunch of superfluous friends on hand like everyone else, the people they do have around them are pretty stellar. That's what I've discovered.

When I do the wrong thing, it inevitably stays with me forever. I replay scenes in my head and I think about how free I would be feeling if only I was brave enough to stand behind what I know is right. I'm going to work on that. I want to feel free.

snoops

2010-03-04T10:27:00.000-08:00

You know what is really creepy? Writing a private email to someone and mentioning something like weight or cooking or vitamins then the very next day (or maybe even sooner) getting lots of spam emails from different places about weight and cooking and vitamins.

Coincidence? I think not.

not a hero

2010-03-03T15:09:00.001-08:00

Wow. My son came home from college last night and this is what he learned from his Chinese professor: Mao Zedong is a hero and China is not a communist country! When two out of the fifty students objected to this propaganda (lie), he told them that most people think Mao's a hero but some think he's a bad man (the families of the 70+ million Chinese people who died on his watch perhaps?) In whose world is a murderer of 70 million people considered a hero? And what on earth is wrong with those people?

Three out of four of my son's professors are foreigners (not that there's anything wrong with that). Last semester he had a Canadian professor telling the class how much better Canadian's healthcare is than ours. Honestly, if these people love their home countries so much, why don't they stay there and teach? It was an anthropology class so the professor really had no business giving lectures on our healthcare system. It's not enough that American radicals have infiltrated our educational systems to rewrite history, erase history, distort the truth and outright lie. We are now employing foreigners to help us along in our destruction. Wonderful!

(For the record, I don't support Obama's healthcare takeover. It's a tax and nothing more. No healthcare services will be implemented until 2013--that means we pay for at least 4-5 years BEFORE anyone gets anything out of it--at which time they'll cry in their soup that costs have risen and they will tax us even more--for LESS service! They simply want to steal more of our money and spend it foolishly. Perhaps more alcohol is needed for Nancy Pelosi's plane as she jetsets around the country with her family on MY DIME!!! WHERE ARE THE JOBS??????????????????????????????) People want JOBS!!!

I'm really sick of what's going on in our world. I'm sick of the right and the left and everyone in between. They are civil servants but they rule as though they are kings and queens. My children know real history because I took the time to teach them, but many, many others sit inside classrooms and listen to these communist pukes teach them lies so that lies become the truth in their minds. The White House had a Mao ornament adorning its Christmas tree this past year. Huh? This is unconscionable. How do we fight that? How do we recover from the calculated deceptions which lead to someone thinking it is a great idea to put a Mao ornament on a Christmas tree?

I try to remain hopeful but it's difficult. I wish for a world away from this world where me and my family could go to get away from this madness. People think communism is great because they do not know what the word means. Go live in China then come back and give us a report on how wonderful it is to have to get a permit to have your one allotted child. I am so sick of stupid people. Stupid people are dangerous and I am telling you right now that stupid people had best stay far away from me because I am liable to slap them upside the head with reality should they start spouting the propaganda taught in schools and disseminated on the news.

Stop poisoning the people with lies, especially our children who are our future.

the 7 o'clock hour of dread

2010-02-23T13:03:00.000-08:00

Just recently I have been noticing a growing sense of dread coming over me when the 7 o'clock hour rolls around. This is the time of the evening when my youngest daughter has taken to calling me to chat about her day. When I say chat I guess I really mean complain. For 30 minutes to an hour, I get a run down of what's been happening since the last time I spoke with her (within 24 hours at most.) Her list of complaints gets longer by the day and sometimes I think my brain will burst from all the negativity. Here are some of the things she complains about:

....being really, really tired, her feet hurting from walking to and from class, how much homework she has, how overly liberal her professors are, how hot it is in her dorm, how her roommate is super messy, how her roommate keeps her up at night because her classes don't start till the afternoon, how the food in the cafeteria sucks, how much she hates the showers in the dorm, how her head is aching from one thing or another, how uncomfortable her bed is, how she is out of diet coke with caffeine, how there is still an infestation of ladybugs in her dorm room even though I've called to complain about it numerous times as has she, how late the buses always are, how heavy her book bag is and how it is making her shoulders ache, how hot or cold it is outside that day, how slow her computer is, how her phone is getting on her nerves, how she hates her haircut, how she's bored, how she's out of money, how she forgot her favorite top at home the last time she visited and that's what she wants to wear tomorrow....and on and on and on...

Since August 14th, I have been getting these calls on a nightly basis, and it's taken until this past week or so to finally feel I'm at my limit. At around 6 PM, I start feeling edgy, anticipating the call, and when I see her name pop up on my phone, I think, "Oh, here we go again!" I flip open the phone, take a deep breath, and ask her about her day.

A number of years ago, when my children were young, I wrote a poem called, A Good Mother. The poem listed all the things a good mother would do that I did not do. It starts, "A good mother wakes up in the morning and makes her children eggs..." because that's what I've always thought good mothers should do. Me? I served toast and cereal because it was easy and fast. I slipped eggs into their diet at night when I would occasionally serve breakfast for dinner, but I never felt I should get credit for that because it felt like I was cheating. Truth be told, I was too lazy and grumpy to make eggs in the morning and as far as I was concerned, that's what a good mother would do.

That poem felt like a purging of all the awful things I felt about myself as a mother--all the "shoulds" I couldn't manage to do---all the ways I felt I was falling short. I'm not sure what happened to that poem but if I find it, I'll post it here so you can see where my head was at. There is a quiet sadness about stay at home mothers that nobody seems to notice. We never hear enough good things about how important and difficult our job is. Never.

That poem came back to me today when I started writing this because I imagine if I wrote it today I would probably say something like, "A good mother would listen to her college age daughter complain without watching the clock to see when the call might be over." After hanging up with her, I find myself heading to the kitchen to look for something crunchy to eat like pretzels, or something crunchy AND sweet like Frosted Mini Wheats which I eat out of the box until I have my fill. I crunch and crunch and crunch and crunch. Can y'all hear me wherever you are?

If I'm extra lucky, on those same nights I get a call from my daughter, my husband will be out of town and call me to recount his list of complaints so that I get a double dose of downers. I can be bobbing around the ceiling like a helium balloon all day, and in no time, my feet are planted back on the ground where good mothers and good wives listen with compassion, and promise with conviction, that tomorrow will be better, for sure.

you wanted something more than this

2010-01-29T18:31:00.000-08:00

My husband is in one room and he hears the water running but he thinks it's someone taking a shower. I am in another room, with my daughter, watching a Jersey Shore episode I have DVR'd and saved to watch with her when she comes home on the weekend from college. We cannot explain why we love that show--we just do. We laugh about their accents and their hair and the ridiculous tans they get from tanning beds when the beach sits right outside their front door. I hear water at one point, but it is raining outside and so I shake my head and tell myself it's just rain. More time passes and I hear the sound of water again and I think to myself that something is not right, that it sounds as though it is raining INSIDE the house. I walk out of the room and I turn towards the sound of the water and discover it is coming from the bathroom. The toilet has overflowed and flooded everywhere.

I start screaming OMG but then I shift into clean-up mode. I am good in a crisis. I panic initially for a number of seconds, but then you can count on me to find a way out of whatever mess I am in with quiet and cool. You want me on your side because I can make you believe everything will be ok, that I can fix anything. My husband is just the opposite. He can be counted on to help, but he cannot give up on his raging against whatever mess we are in. He screams and he rages and he does not get that nothing he says will change the fact that we simply need to shut up and deal with what's in front of us. He makes whatever mess we're in a thousand times worse just because he cannot keep his mouth shut.

We spend the afternoon wet vacuuming up the excess water and attempting to dry the carpets with big, industrial sized fans. The entire time we are dealing with this mess, my husband is screaming his lungs out about everything. How he is sick of living this way, how hard he works and how much he hates living with the insanity of toilets overflowing, etc., etc., etc. He can turn the smallest thing into the biggest problem and the biggest problem into something much worse without even trying. In my head I am plotting how I will leave him even though I know I will never go anywhere. It helps to pretend there is a place I can go when madness is all around me.

That evening, after cleaning up all the toilet water we've been knee deep in all day, we head off to see the play Annie downtown. It is still raining outside--the freezing kind of rain that makes you think the whole world is crying, and our parking space is two blocks from the theater. We do not have an umbrella because I forgot to bring one and if I don't remember everything, then nothing gets remembered. We are drenched and so very miserable. I am heartsick about everything, mostly about being stuck in a life that sometimes feels like a trap I can't find my way out of, but then Annie comes on stage and starts singing The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow and I feel my own heart start floating back into its proper place from where it fell inside me.

Sometimes I am amazed at the level of dysfunction I've created for myself without even knowing I was creating it. I own it all, even the crazy, because it's all part of who I am.

the bearer of unconditional things

2010-01-05T17:39:00.000-08:00

I know this is really strange, but every once in a while I go to my brother's flicker site and go through his pictures--a virtual stalker, if you will. I have two brothers who don't speak to me, who I have not seen in over 20 years. My one brother doesn't speak to me just because (really!). My other brother who doesn't speak to me, basically cut the whole family off and I was just collateral damage thrown into the mix because he severed ties with them. Even though I did nothing to him except love him, I got cut off, too. I've spent a lifetime trying to process this. I cannot tell you how it feels to be erased like that from someone's life because there are no words. I never talk about it to anyone because I don't know what to say. I know that a lot of my childhood years have been forgotten because of this.

I cannot remember so many things. My sister will ask me if I remember this or that and I have to tell her no. I try to remember, but I can't. I was literally erased from their lives, then I think my mind erased most things connected to them. I do remember my older brother being a know-it-all and I remember him playing the Elvis Costello song "Alison" over and over and over again. I remember this about my little brother: When he first started school, he cried and cried, and could not be consoled, so I would stand in line with him to take him to his class in the morning so that he would feel safe and stop all that crying. I have never been able to stand seeing little kids cry.

Anyway, this wasn't meant to be a trip down memory lane where I get all weepy over lost relationships because I'm at peace with my life at this point. What I wanted to write was that as I was going through my brother's Christmas flicker pictures, I noticed something weird. There were pictures of the inside of his house decorated for the holidays and what I noticed is that both my sister and my brother have almost 100% copied the way my parents furnish and decorate their home. They all have open beams on their ceilings. They have the same type of rug in the family room. Their kitchens are set up in identical ways. Their wooden tables all have a sheet of glass on top and a white doily runner between the wood and the glass. There are built in bookshelves in the family room of all their homes. Their fireplace mantles are adorned in similar fashions. When my parents started to collect a certain kind of expensive pottery, my sister went out and bought a ton of it herself. My mother has an extensive collection of Hummels and I noticed that my sister started collecting them as well. They all have the same type of curtains in the windows, too. Let me be clear, their homes are beautiful. But it's like this weird copycatville where they all seem compelled to be carbon copies of each other. I wonder what they think about when they visit each other. I'm guessing they think what good taste they all have since they all have the exact same taste.

I'm trying to figure out what this means because I think there has to be some reason why they both felt the need to replicate our parents home inside their own homes. I think it might have something to do with needing my parents approval and knowing that they would have it if they copied them. What else could it be? There's no hint of originality in either home that screams, THIS IS ME, I AM DIFFERENT FROM YOU.

I guess I just find it fascinating to know that there isn't anything in my home that resembles their homes. If I never moved away, I wonder if my home would mimic theirs. I wonder if I would reside in copycatville as well due to the pressure of living in the same area, or if I would have the courage to be the me that is different from them that I feel free to be because I am so far away.

Blue moon ringing in a New Year, 2010

2009-12-31T16:20:00.000-08:00

There's an eclipsed Blue Moon tonight, so I am taking that as a sign that 2010 will be good.

2009 has been mostly wonderful. I am enormously blessed. I look forward to the promise that a new year brings and will do my best to honor my life here on earth. I will continue to seek the truth in all things and I will work to acquire the knowledge I need to help myself and my family navigate through this world. I will look for the divine everywhere and in everyone. I will strive to remain in the light.

Happy New Year!

May health, happiness and prosperity be yours.

the stars are brightly shining

2009-12-25T21:10:00.000-08:00

I woke up Christmas morning with a sore throat. It's no wonder, really. My kids have been sick off and on for the past month and I could have picked up something from them. Or, it could have been from that woman I stood behind at the post office the other day. She coughed like a maniac without covering her mouth. She carried around a little plastic bottle all taped up with gray masking tape and about every few seconds she would spit into it. I tried not to think about it too much or look at her doing this because it was seriously grossing me out. I've never seen anything like it. Who carries around a little plastic bottle to spit into? The post office line was ridiculously long and as I was standing there all I could think was that this woman's germs were making a beeline into my air space at breakneck speed and I had no way to protect myself from the assault. Sure enough, I woke up to my throat feeling as though it was on fire. I've loaded up on vitamin C and took some colloidal silver to kill whatever bacteria has invaded my body and I'm already starting to feel better. Oh, and I pop Zicam dissolvable tablets as well. They always make my colds go away quicker.

I made a delicious meal, mostly using my grill. I've read several blog posts lately about people finding joy and peace in the kitchen and maybe there's something in the water because I seem to be finding that same sort of contentment when I'm cooking that I never felt before. I think a part of me has spent a great deal of time convincing myself that I'm not a good cook and will never be one. I assigned myself a label of mediocrity in the cooking department and was content to live down to that assessment. Then one day I got bored and tried new things and found that I can cook and I'm really good at it. I'm the type of person that likes to follow directions to the letter and so letting go of that rigidity has given me the freedom to subtract or add things or even totally make up my own recipes as I go along. All my life I've been aware that I place limits on myself that only hurt me. I'm learning to change the way I think about myself, giving myself permission to be more. It's like the sky is the limit if only I believe it. Better late than never, right?

I did not miss my extended family even once this year, so I am here to report that after 18 years, being away from loved ones gets easier. It's like I've totally accepted that this is my life and it's up to me to make the most of my time here. When I went outside tonight to turn on my Christmas lights, I looked up into the cold December night sky and sent my love and good wishes their way. I am with them always. They are always with me.

Merry Christmas

2009-12-24T17:47:00.000-08:00

I tried something different this year. Instead of waiting until Christmas Eve to wrap all the presents, I started a couple of days ago and now, for the first time in forever, I am not hunched over on the floor somewhere with tape and wrapping paper and Christmas tags cursing whoever it was that thought it was a good idea to wrap presents in pretty colored paper. It feels glorious.

Merry Christmas from my house to yours. I wish you happiness, peace, light and love.

the lies she tells me

2009-12-18T21:13:00.000-08:00

She lies about everything. Stupid lies. Insulting lies that make me want to suggest she work harder at coming up with something more believable when she cannot find the words to speak the truth. I ask her if she even cares about us because I think that she can't possibly care about people she lies to all the time so easily, with not so much as an inkling of guilt. And she replies, "that's an awful thing to say," turning the discussion away from her, pointing an accusatory finger back at me which is another thing she does to avoid answering questions honestly.

I want to take responsibility for the part I feel I must play in this, the part that makes her feel unsafe in telling the truth, even about the little things. I wonder where I went wrong, where I failed on my end. I think about this every time she lies and since she lies so much I'm thinking about it all the time. I've tried reacting with anger, compassion, and unconditional love but nothing ever changes--the lies just keep spilling and spilling out of her mouth and into the spaces of air that appear empty between us.

She lies about everything and I do not know what to do about it except not believe anything she says.

The center of everything

2009-12-02T19:22:00.000-08:00

I am trying to burn down a pumpkin spiced candle that's almost at its end. I should probably just put it away already but I love the scent. It's raining outside--has been raining and cold most of the day. I ended up doing a little Christmas shopping today and bought some poinsettias for the house. I finally threw my pumpkins in the trash although what I wanted to do was toss them out back into the woods at the edge of our lawn so that they would rot and maybe the seeds would take root and sprout pumpkins next year but my husband said it would attract ants and apparently we don't want to attract a bunch of ants outside where they live anyway so in the trash they went.

I can't wait to run tomorrow since I wasn't able to run today. Sometimes I hate running so much I want to cry because of all the aches I end up having, but then I'll miss a day because of rain and all I can think about is running. I'm never sure whether I am running away from something or towards something--maybe a little of both. I do know that when I am out there, I forget about everything and that's a good thing when your head is always filled to bursting with thoughts that won't let you rest.

I received the most thoughtful, wonderful gift for my birthday--tickets to see The Phantom of the Opera and I can hardly wait until Saturday when we go. I had been quietly promoting this as a gift for a while amongst my family but no one seemed to get a clue so I gave up throwing out hints about a year ago. Then one day I was listening to the soundtrack and thinking to myself that I'd really like to go see it in person and the next day tickets arrived in the mail!! It was like magic. I wasn't feeling sorry for myself and I wasn't angry that I hadn't had the opportunity to go yet, I was simply thinking how great it would be to go. I didn't say a thing--I just had the thought in my head that I wanted to go and just like that, I am going!

In my dreams--the ones I manage to remember--I always have magical powers. I like thinking I'm learning to find the magic of my dreams when I'm awake.

Drop by drop

2009-11-21T19:14:00.000-08:00

"Writing a journal means that facing your ocean, you are afraid to swim across it, so you attempt to drink it drop by drop."~George Sand

I've been watching the second season of HBO's In Treatment on demand and decided that there is an art to listening I had never noticed before and I wonder if maybe the only way to have access to that type of listening is to pay for it. I'm not being snarky here. It's just that no one I know listens the way the therapist on the show listens to his patients--with such care, such attention to detail, and such compassion. It is truly an art and something I would like to learn to do better, and have done better in regards to me.

~~~~~~~~~~

For the past couple of weeks I have been on an eating binge. I eat everything in sight--leftover Baby Ruth bars from Halloween, chips, pretzels--you name it and I eat it. I go to bed at night with a container of extra strength tropical fruit TUMS by my nightstand and chew those up like skittles to combat the indigestion brought on by these feeding frenzies, then I wake up the next day and do it all over again. I am never filled up. I am never filled up.

~~~~~~~~~~

There is an angel tree filled with requests by children at the grocery store where I shop. The other day I stood there and read the little wishes and I almost started crying because I wanted to scoop them all up and be the person who filled all those wishes but I know my husband would flip out if I did such a thing. Instead I think I will take an angel every time I go and fill that wish from now until Christmas. I have been blessed with much and it makes me happy to share--especially with children who remind me to be ever hopeful of just about everything.

``````````````````````

Weekends get a little stressful around here. I want a break from the same old, same old and want to be free to do what I want to do and yet my adult children seem only to think of my life in terms of what I can do for them. It's all so predictable and annoying and I do not know of a way to complain about it that gets my point across for more than 5 minutes. I do not want to be that parent who wishes her children would just hurry up and leave but I find myself becoming her more and more--especially on the weekends. It's a fight to keep my newly found serenity and it worries me that I feel serenity most strongly when I am by myself.

``````````````````

I have hated running the past two weeks. It's a struggle to get myself out the door, not because I hate being outside but because I dread running the same paths and hearing the same music. I started to think about how many miles I have run in the last 21 weeks of religious exercise and it feels like a million. I am running up and down streets and around cul de sacs--like a lab rat stuck in a maze. So I'm thinking about changing up my scenery by going somewhere new. And I bought some new sneakers to have something new and shiny to motivate me not to give up. You should hear the pep talks I give myself each morning. This is what I say: "You can't give up. You have to keep trying. Remember how good you feel afterwards. Don't be that person who can't stick to things for more than just a short while." This is a dangerous time for me. I always know when I am about to take a little break from exercising that will last 6 months or more and I am determined not to let that happen. I'll keep you posted.

~~~~~~~~

I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving. I've got pies to bake and a turkey to cook correctly so that I don't give my family food poisoning. This is always a worry of my husband's even though no one has ever gotten food poisoning from food I have prepared in over 20 years. Still, each year I get cautioned that I must prepare the turkey correctly. This year he has also suggested that perhaps instead of potentially poisoning everyone with turkey, maybe I should just make meatloaf and mashed potatoes instead. It promises to be another interesting holiday in my corner of the world.

the easy kill

2009-11-14T17:00:00.000-08:00

“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.”~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

On the day of my birthday, I did not get a call from my parents. I kept checking the phone thinking I would miss their call when I went out for a run, when I stepped out to get the mail, while I was in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher. I was watching TV in bed that night with my phone beside me, and I decided I needed to check the recent call list one last time just to make sure I didn't miss their call, but there was no listing with their name and number beside it. There was no missing call. It was in that moment that I was able to step out of myself and see how pathetic the whole situation was. I see myself waiting for the call. I see myself accepting no call will come.

I like to think about life as a journey of lessons learned, so I tried to figure out what the lesson of this could be. Was it that the world did not end just because I did not get a call from them on the one day of the year that is mine? Was it that a phone call, or lack thereof, should not be mistaken for love or lack thereof? Was the lesson that expectations of others are futile--even the simplest of things--because expectations inevitably lead to disappointments? Who knows. I'm sure I don't.

I tried to imagine the thought process that went into them not calling me because it is important that I understand why. Did they make a conscious choice to let the day pass without a word to me or did I slip their mind altogether? I will not lie: neither choice feels acceptable. Understanding eludes me.

A pattern of mine that I've been trying to break is the one where I lock all the unacceptable things inside my head where I tell myself not to think about them. It's a safety mechanism of mine that I've taken up because people have not always been careful of my heart and I know I'll be unwaveringly vigilant. I've learned, though, that the feelings tied to all the unacceptable things do not go away just because I choose not think about them.

Instead, I've been trying to deal with the feelings as they come--to honor the feelings, good and bad, that come from my journey. I used to think it was best to lock everything bad away because I was afraid thinking those thoughts would kill me, but they didn't. In case you haven't noticed, I can be quite theatrical at times. I thought the feelings would paralyze me and render me unable to move forward. But then I stopped being afraid to feel my own emotions, and learned I am stronger than I think I am. Hidden, unexamined, unfelt feelings are more poisonous than allowing myself to feel them. I can cry the sadness out of me and then move on.

For most of my adult life, I have felt somewhat disconnected from people, and I think the roots of this disconnection go all the way back to my beginning. There was a lack of nurturing I experienced--not in any way connected to having food, clothing, and shelter--that left me feeling apart from the rest of the world. I find this difficult to explain. It's like being on the outside looking in all the time. It's needing to watch other families and relationships to learn what it's like to behave like a normal family/person because it doesn't come naturally. It's guarding your heart always, because that is what makes you feel safe in this world.

When something happens to remind me where I come from, I feel stuck and angry and sad all at once. I have to sit in those emotions and feel them and they feel awful. I think if only I was a better person--THEN I'm sure they would have remembered to call me--which is ridiculous. I don't want to have to be better to be remembered. I just want to be who I am.

Sometimes I feel so alone in this world--that my ties to the people I love are so tenuous--that if severed--I would simply float away, telling myself not to look back, because I would know instinctively that those on the ground would not be looking up to see where I might be going.

I have been mourning the relationship I have with my parents for most of my life. It feels like this: I have everything except what they did not give me, and what they did not give me is everything I'll ever want.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*This happened a number of weeks ago and I wrote this immediately afterwards, however, I wasn't really able to post it until now because I felt so horrible. I'm pretty much over it now. Time heals what reason cannot.

another me

2009-10-31T19:15:00.000-07:00

I have the window opened a little more than a crack, and the faint smell of cigarette smoke is snaking its way into the room. I imagine our neighbor next door standing on her deck out back to keep the smell of smoke out of her house and away from her little boy. Growing up, my father smoked like a mad man. There are pictures of him, at thirteen years old, sneaking a smoke in the back of a building somewhere. When we were little, and would go through old photographs, my siblings and I couldn't get over how bad he must have been to be smoking at thirteen. We couldn't even imagine.

Our house smelled like smoke--the curtains, the furniture, our clothes--everything. When my father turned forty, his mother was diagnosed with lung cancer--from being a smoker her entire life. Her ugly, painful death from this disease made my father give up smoking. He simply stopped one day and never smoked again.

Although I've never been a smoker, there are times I get the urge to buy myself a pack of cigarettes. It's the strangest thing. I imagine myself in some secluded spot, sneaking a cigarette or two then coming back to a life where that's not something I would ever do in a million years.

Not stopping

2009-10-14T18:23:00.000-07:00

"One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eye."~The Little Prince

I waited all morning and half the afternoon for the rain to die down to a drizzle so that I could go outside and do my run. This blog is becoming monotonous--I run, and I talk about running but I can't help it--it's what makes me happy and feel at peace. This was the second day this week that rain was trying to take away my fun. I was impatient for it to be gone. But then I went out there with a hat on and a SWEATSHIRT! and my music in my ears and I ran. I loved everything about the drizzle hitting my face, keeping me cool. I loved the clouds in the sky and the trees turning beautiful fall colors and the stream of water rushing down the street beside me. I feel closest to God--with the divine greatness of the universe--when I am outdoors. I never, ever in my whole life took the time to look around and really appreciate all the natural beauty around me, so it's like I am making up for lost time.

I spent the last couple of weeks getting my house in shape for a visit from my in-laws and then at the very last minute they decided that the trip was just too long to make. At first I was like---huh? But then I remembered how miserable I feel when I am in a car for endless hours--how my body aches and how bored to death I feel. And I thought about how they're so much older and shouldn't have to do anything they don't want to do and then I was ok with it. It's not like getting angry would have changed things anyway so I didn't bother wasting the energy. My house is looking spotless and organized, so in a way, I am thankful for the little push to get things in order.

Believe it or not, I think about writing here a lot, although it's clear that I do not actually come here and write very often. There really isn't much going on in my life that's interesting from the outside looking in. I've been going through some internal changes that are difficult to articulate. All I know is that I have searched tirelessly for truth and peace and God---and after all the searching, I found them all inside me. I was looking outside when I should have been looking within. I'm rejecting fear and choosing love. As much as possible, I am trying to send out into the world good energies so that good energies come back to me and it's working. I am being pleasantly surprised by the power I have that I did not know I had. I am happier than I have ever been in my entire life. My life is truly what I make it.

Have a nice day

2009-09-11T21:32:00.000-07:00

I got up this morning as usual and prepared to go for a run. It was sprinkling just a little bit so I decided that I'd do a little housework and wait to see if it cleared. Around 9:00 AM, someone rings my front doorbell and starts knocking on the door. I peeked out the blinds and saw a 20 something male standing there kind of shuffling around. I know I shouldn't have opened the door, but I did and he immediately went into some spiel about his mother being in a bad accident and how he needed gas and/or money for gas so that he could go to the hospital to see his dying mother. He was crying and very dramatic about the whole thing. He told me he owned a pressure washing business and that if I gave him gas or gas money to go see his dying mother, that he'd be happy to come back and pressure wash my house and driveway. I told him that wasn't necessary because at this point, all I really wanted to do was get rid of him because he made me nervous with all his shuffling around. He also had really bad teeth--they were black and this gloomy gray color and they kind of freaked me out. I immediately chastised myself for being judgmental and told him I'd check in my garage to see if we had any gas. I closed the door and locked it as quick as lightening.

In the back of my head, I knew that I wanted to tell him straight up to just go away, but I've been trying to find my sense of compassion towards other human beings again. And I've been working hard at removing fear from my life because when I stopped to think about all the things I fear, I found the list was pretty endless. I hated knowing that a lot of my life has been defined by fears that simply stole away time I could have used being happy and productive. There is so much to be afraid of and I think our society plays on those fears so that they can push through agendas that do not benefit any of us. Lately, my mind has been filled with fears about our disastrous financial situation, and the swine flu fear mongering seems to escalate by the minute. It's just endless and I decided I did not want to participate in all that fear anymore so when I feel the panic rising, I retrain my brain to calm myself down about whatever it is that is making me feel scared. I've been very successful at stamping out fears over which I ultimately have no control, and as a reward, I feel much happier.

So when I closed the door on the jittery man out front--even though a part of me sensed something wasn't right--I decided I'd give him money because I tried to think how I would feel if I was alone in the world and I needed to get somewhere and I didn't have any money to buy gas. I thought it wouldn't hurt me to give him money and whatever gas I had in the gas can in the garage because I have enough of both and could get more any time I wanted more. When you're blessed with riches, it costs nothing to give some away--I truly believe that. I tried to see past his exterior into his spirit where I know goodness lies in all of us, and decided I could trust this person I did not know for more than 3 minutes.

As I was digging out my wallet, my son, who was home at the time, came out of his room and asked me what I was doing so I told him the story. He informed me that a cop was out front and, of course, started in on the "don't ever open the door for anyone" lecture as if I was the child and he was the parent. The cop rings our doorbell and asked us if we knew this man and we told him no and I recounted the tale he had told me just moments before. He said he'd been called by some other neighbors and that he was going to look into the background of this fellow.

Long story short, Mr. jittery-black-teeth-money/gas-solicitor was lying. Apparently he's some sort of druggie/dealer. Pretty soon police cruiser number two arrives, then police cruiser number three. It was quite a show. They handcuffed him and hauled him off to jail!

All I could think about today was how these rotten, lying scumbag people ruin things for everyone because they make you harden your heart, they make you suspicious, they make you not want to trust anyone, or do nice things. I was thinking what must go through the mind of someone like that to come onto private property and blatantly lie to scam money to buy drugs. In a million years, I cannot imagine myself in a scenario like that and for that, I am grateful. Still, I feel ridiculous that I chose to believe him, that my kindness is a weakness that other people see as an opportunity to take advantage of.

There is never a dull moment in this neighborhood. I could toss out all the TV's we own and just sit by the windows and be entertained both day and night. I couldn't make up half this stuff even if I tried. I look around me and there's so much dysfunction, so much moral depravity I can hardly stand it. It's hard feeling like you're the only normal person in a world full of whackos.

The earth turns, the sun burns

2009-09-02T17:27:00.000-07:00

I decided not to be hateful to the man who walks his dogs and won't say hello to me when I say hi to him. All summer long, I've been ignoring him whenever I see him. It takes a lot of effort to ignore someone who is right across the street hanging onto a dog that is barking wildly and struggling mightily to cross the street and sniff me out. I need to believe that there is goodness in everyone. Whether this is a foolish belief or not remains to be seen. I saw him today and said hello. He said hello back. Progress.

This morning was a gift. The air was just a little bit cool here and that's the first time in forever that I have not been met with a wall of heat the moment I step outdoors. A shadow of the moon was still up in the sky, so was the sun, and so were the clouds. I wished I could be up there, too, floating on a cloud or something, sipping a drink with lots of ice. Sometimes the earth feels too crowded with people and stuff. In my dreams, I can fly. If only.

Everything is going well here. My youngest seems to be adjusting to college life and we are adjusting to life without her here all the time. Every day it's a new drama at the school--tonight it was a fire in her dorm. She proudly stated that she remembered to take her cell phone and her favorite blanket when the alarm went off in the building. No mention of the $2,000 laptop, though. Priorities, I guess.

Anyway, I want to say that I've been busy being happy, because that's what's true.

who i am, who i'm not, who i want to be

2009-08-13T18:34:00.000-07:00

My summer has been a whirlwind of activity and now we're getting ready for our youngest to go off to college. It's such an exciting time for her and I'm so happy to be a part of it. I'm not sad in the least--I'm thrilled for her. It is not enough to say I wish the world for her. My dreams for her are limitless. I forget about being negative when I'm around my children. They have always been my hope for bigger and better things. In my deepest heart, I know that what I get from them is more than what I have given to them. The list is endless. Not surprisingly, the list begins and ends with love.

One of the pleasures of running every day is that I turn a glorious shade of bronze just by trekking through my neighborhood. I think exposure to the sun has been demonized by medical professionals to the point of ridiculousness and I'm sure that's mostly because sunshine cannot be bottled and sold at exorbitant prices to the masses. The sun has always felt so healing to me and maybe that's because my body instinctively knows how good it is for me. My blistered, aching feet are wounds I curse and cherish simultaneously. They remind me I am alive. They keep me in the moment.

I am not sure why I haven't been writing as much lately. Partly it has to do with me trying to come to terms with this life of mine. I've been on a quest for truth in everything and have found that you cannot find the truth if truth is not inside you. This has proved difficult because I'm a keeper of secrets. I can bury secrets deep inside the vault of my soul and forget about them. Occasionally, I will take them out in the dead of the night but never long enough to sort anything out. I ask myself what it is that I am afraid of and I answer that I am afraid I will fall apart if I dare to stare down the secrets/truths about myself that feel impossible to come to terms with. I think I do not have the time to fall apart when I've got real life to deal with and so I keep putting this showdown off till another day. I think the sun will continue to shine and time will continue to march on, but there are days I'm not convinced of it. There is truth inside me that I need to set free, that I need to face without fear so that I can find the truth in everything.

Rule breakers

2009-07-24T09:59:00.000-07:00

(another shitty person story)

I had picked up about 25-30 items at the grocery store last night. I walked up to one line and saw that there were two people ahead of me with their carts filled to the brim so I wandered down to another lane and started to unload my stuff. I was halfway through unloading (I was bending over my cart picking a couple of yogurts up) when this woman comes up behind me and shouts, "WELL, I GUESS THIS ISN'T A 15 ITEMS OR LESS LINE ANYMORE!!!" then she stomped off in a huff. It was at that moment that I happened to glance up to see that I had wandered (unknowingly) into a 15 items or less line. I seriously did not even notice the sign hanging from the ceiling (also, not that this is an excuse, but these stores all have different item limits--some say 10 some say 15 some say 25--I clearly had more than 15 items, but they were yogurts and gatorades and some canned goods--and checking out would have been quick). Apparently this is a death row offense as far as some people are concerned. The woman behind the indignant bitch said jokingly, "ooooooooo, you're such a rule breaker!" I told her that WOW, I would have moved if she had just acted like a normal person, but she assumed that I was conspiring to make all the 15-items-and-less-people wait behind me on purpose when I didn't even realize I was in one of those stupid lines. OMG, people are really trying my patience lately!

I was incensed for most of my trip home, but then a good song came on the radio and I let it go. I mean, if the biggest problem that woman has in life is ME making a mistake and unloading too many items at the checkout, then she has nothing to complain about, and if MY biggest problem is a nasty old bitch griping about a silly mistake that I would have been glad to rectify if she had simply been normal, then my life is quite excellent indeed.

He said, ask anything

2009-07-20T21:05:00.000-07:00

I am trying to limit my time online. I was becoming increasingly depressed about the state of, well, everything. The mainstream media insults our intelligence by only reporting news which has been approved by "higher ups" in the broadcasting industry. This means we get watered down information or bloated information depending on what the real agenda is behind the scenes. So I look to the internet to tell me the truth, and the truth is mostly always ugly. I'll be in a good mood and forget that our government is marching us towards socialism/communism and then I'll read something that reminds me and I start sinking into a pit of despair again.

I have been making sure that I stay committed to my running again. I feel less pessimistic about the world for at least the couple of hours it takes me to work out, cool down, shower and get on with my day. I feel peace in those two hours, and there are even moments where I can convince myself that we are not doomed, that something or someone will intervene on our behalf and save us from our traitorous government. I'll be quite honest--I've handed it over to God because I do not know what else to do. On my good days, I am convinced that evil will not prevail because no matter how powerful evil forces can be, God, in His infinite goodness, is the ultimate superpower. I find myself praying all the time--for guidance, for strength, for patience, for hope. I have spent inordinate amounts of time searching for answers, for truth. I read everything and I am open to all sorts of different opinions on things because I think it is a mistake to think that there is only one way that is the right way. I've read articles by people who say there is no God and I can understand where they are coming from even though I do not feel that same way. For me, it's essential to believe in God, to know that He is somewhere watching over all of us. I try not to question if my faith is a result of not being able to bear the thought that God doesn't exist, because I pretty much know I couldn't bear the thought of that. So it's settled for me. There is a God of goodness and light and I pray to Him always to watch over us and keep us safe. I pray for the destruction of the evil people who are ruining everything. I don't even care if this is an awful thing to do because it feels right to me. I'm sick and tired of being kind to people who wish to do me and my family harm--so I wish on them what they are doing to us--times a million.

My washing machine broke today, so I had to run out and buy a new one but it won't be delivered until Wednesday. By then, the pile of unwashed clothes ought to be up to the ceiling in the laundry room. I usually can't skip even a day or I end up being sorry that I thought I could get by without doing at least one load. My life is one thrill after another, to be sure.

I am struggling to find a balance between acknowledging the alarming reality of our changing world and living my best life, and it is proving to be quite the challenge. Sometimes I wish I didn't know so much, that I didn't search and search and search to find out truths that take some of the color out of the world for me. Still, I think I'd rather know than not know because at least I will not be surprised, I will not be caught off guard. I've always hated surprises unless the surprises are diamonds or sapphires or rubies.

Joke me something awful

2009-07-07T10:28:00.000-07:00

I'm sick of shitty people.

Example A. I've lived in this neighborhood for a little over 7 years. I pretty much keep to myself but I always go out of my way to say hello or wave to my neighbors and will engage in small talk if necessary. So there's this guy I always passed when I used to do my run. He doesn't live on my street but a couple of streets over. He's really the unfriendly sort. It took me about two months to get him to respond to me when I would say hello to him when I would pass him. I think part of the problem was that I was onto his scam of walking his dog and allowing it to crap on everyone else's lawn without picking it up and carrying it home to dispose as the rules in our covenants state. We even get reminders written on whiteboards at the beginning of our subdivision so there really is no excuse for this sort of ignorant behavior. I caught him doing it a couple of times but never said anything, I just filed it away and would refer to him as the guy who let his dog crap on everyone's lawn without picking it up.

But after about 2 months of continued HELLO'S on my part, this old fart finally said hello back to me. I considered it a success because this guy is what I call MAD AT THE WORLD. You know the type--mad at everyone for all of life's little hardships and blaming everyone else for the fact that he's a loser. The type that would take his dog out every single day and purposely allow it to crap on a neighbor's lawn without cleaning up after it as a way of sticking it to all of his so-called enemies. I can just picture him chuckling at home about how it's such an awesome thing that he lets his dog crap everywhere. HehHehHehHeh. I can almost hear him. And you KNOW he's the type who would have a complete COW if you allowed your pet to do the same thing he does to everyone else. Typical ass.

Fast forward to today. I pass him walking his dog (he actually took the dog to the backyard of a home that is for sale to take a crap because that's where I saw him exiting and he has no business being on that property). He continues walking down the street and I passed by him and WAVED PLUS SAID HELLO and this freak looked me straight in the eyes and then turned away without saying anything. I was dismissed. That was IT for me. I said "OKAYYYYYYYY" and let out a huge sigh like WTF? and ran by his obnoxious ass. I will NEVER acknowledge him again for the rest of my life. Some people are just beyond any sort of redemption. I am convinced of this. He better stay off the streets, too, because I might be tempted to run him over if he gets in my way.

Exhibit B. I asked my daughter to take her car to get an emissions test so that I can get the yearly car registration sticker. I give her a check to pay for the test, I am paying for the registration, we paid for the car in full and gave it to her and we also pay the insurance each month on the car. Well, she starts giving me attitude about how it's such a bother to go get it inspected! Lots of stomping around and mumbling under her breath. Now if I was the sort of person who made up a huge list each day and asked everyone to complete all the tasks or ELSE, I could understand all the drama, however, I rarely ask anything of anyone. She's 25 and living at home with no plans to leave any time soon. I keep asking my husband if we can just slip away during the night and leave everyone because I am convinced no one will ever leave. They left, found out life was difficult/expensive in the real world and came back.

Part of the reason I've been having a hard time lately is that I see no end to this and I think that a good mother should just go with the flow and welcome everyone back and not feel like I'm losing something important that I feel I've worked towards (my children growing up and moving out). I told my husband that I would not have had children so young if I had known that things would turn out like this. More than half my life has been spent caring for other people and before that I lived at home and was under the thumb of very strict parents. It's like I never got to live and have tons of fun or be in any way selfish. EVER. I know that's dramatic, but it's how I feel sometimes. And when stuff like this emissions test kerfluffle comes up, I want to quietly go into my room, get a suitcase, pack a few things, then hit the road. And here's the thing. I don't think I would look back or be sad because I'm so over all of them. I know in a few hours I'll have cooled off but right this minute I can picture myself by myself forever.

Let freedom ring.

2009-07-04T17:32:00.000-07:00

I read somewhere today that freedom is a state of mind and I like that thought so I'm going to try to remember it the next time I start worrying. The worries. The worries are heavy. I want to knock them off my shoulders and dump them in a bottomless pit so that I never have to deal with them again. The worries keep me up at night, they consume my thoughts throughout the day. I breath them in and breath them out. I cannot make them go away.

Freedom is a state of mind. Ok. For the moment, it's working.

My hair smells like smoke from the grill. I had a massive grease fire going on this afternoon when I was cooking up the food. I'm the griller in my family which I know is unusual, but with my husband gone a lot of the time, I needed to know how to fire up a grill or go without and so now I am an expert. We had hamburgers, hotdogs, sweet italian sausage, baked beans, salad, my specialty deviled eggs, and corn on the cob. It was all so delicious. I don't think there are fireworks in town this year due to the economy but no big deal. We can buy fireworks in the grocery stores here so if we want them we can go buy them. When I was growing up, my father would put on a fireworks show each year for the neighborhood. We'd crawl up on the roof of our house and watch them and it's great how I can think back to that time and I'm back there. I love the snapshot memories that take me back.

I bought a new pair of sneakers last night and I am thinking about taking up my walking/running routine again. I took a "day" off that lasted 8 months. I always do this. I run like an engine for a year then get tired and decide to rest a day and then I don't go back. There is no sense in this, I know and I fight to understand why I'm wired this way. I lose motivation somehow. It leaves me when I don't realize it's going and then I can't get it back no matter how hard I try. I know the motivation must come from within, though, so there's that.

I'm trying to keep my mind off the economic difficulties going on in our world. I'd feel better if I felt that we had people working toward fixing what is broken, however I think we have people intentionally working to destroy rather than build up. I worry for the people without jobs. I feel strangely calm about my husband's job even though he is in an industry that the Obama administration is working tirelessly to decimate. I'm certain we will be ok but I still care deeply about the direction our world is headed and I wish I could get everyone to think good thoughts and pray to God to help us. We have a bunch of people in our government who are not our friends, who are following a path that is wrong, who are betraying us. I've gotten beyond the democrat/republican thing because I think both are rotten and corrupt.

Anyway, my hope is that freedom, or at least the form of freedom we have now, does not get smaller. That is my wish this 4th of July. For everyone.

Close your eyes and sleep to dream

2009-06-24T20:43:00.000-07:00

I've been reading a lot of political blogs lately and what I've found is that they tend to depress me and make me lose hope in everything and I think hope is important to have. It makes getting up in the morning worthwhile if you believe that there are positives to counter all the negatives, that there is light somewhere within the darkness. So I decided to stop obsessing over wanting to read everything and know everything because what can one person do with all that knowledge anyway? I want to know what is going on, but I need to continue to have hope that things will be ok. I'm not sure if I'm just fooling myself or what. I've become somewhat jaded about everything and I am not exaggerating when I write this. I'm like the dark cloud over Eyeore's head threatening to rain at any moment and spoil everyone's day. Tell me something wonderful and I'll be able to root out the evil that's lurking beneath the all the wonderfulness. I've turned into quite the killjoy for sure.

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day and we were both lamenting about how our lives did not turn out the way we had dreamed they would--how things happened that we had no control over and how we had to adapt to a different life plan. There isn't a place to go where we can just cry about the losses that probably aren't significant to most of the outside world but still feel huge to us. There's this fear of expressing dissatisfaction when you know that mostly your life is blessed, because the rule is that you count your blessings and you do not ask for more than enough when you have enough. And so we discuss this with each other and tell each other that we're lucky because we are. And the speaking of the words that feel like a betrayal helps for a while. We hang up our phones and get on with the lives we have and we feel less alone knowing there is at least one person walking the earth who feels the same things.

I'm on one of my cleaning binges again. It's always all or nothing with me and I tend to disrespect housecleaning now that I have been doing it more than half of my life. There's nothing rewarding about it but I get to the point where I feel like I need control of something, anything, and so I clean. Even when I know that tomorrow at this time everything I've done will be undone there are at least a few moments when things are in order and that gives me a little peace. My gravestone will probably read something like, She lived, She cleaned, She saw her cleaning come undone, She died.

I'm almost done the Bible and know that I will have to go back and read it all again because there is just so much to take in after just one reading. My mind is filled with all the stories and all the questions I have that I am afraid I will never get the answers to--at least not in this life. I've found some of the most beautiful prose inside the Bible and I wasn't expecting that. And I've also found that while there were things I did not understand, I did get the messages of love that were preached throughout, and the messages of forgiveness. Life is so complicated, and people make it more complicated than it needs to be. The message of loving one another is such a simple thing, yet most of us can't sustain that sort of love long enough to make a difference. There are too many outside annoyances calling our attention away from what is most important and we simply allow those distractions to steal the gift of love away and put it on a back burner. I start off each day swearing to do better and by noon I'm off track. I'm not sure good intentions count for anything when good intentions are all I ever end up having.

Watermelon is great this time of the year...and air conditioning is the greatest invention of all time when it is 100 degrees outside. I feel alive when I go outside and within a minute am covered in sweat. I feel alive when I come inside and am met with a wall of cool air. I am here in this corner of the world struggling to make sense of everything that doesn't make sense. I turn the page and think about all the things I need to put down in words so that I will not be forgotten. I scream inside my head, don't forget me.

I never wanted to fit in any place except your heart

2009-06-12T19:45:00.000-07:00

I went with my youngest daughter to her college orientation this week. She was accepted at a top 10 university and the place is enormous but she's coming from a one of the largest high schools in the nation so it shouldn't be too big of an adjustment--just lots of walking to classes and whatnot. I spent a lot of time riding around the campus trying to find all the different places so I could get a feel for where she'll be, and for the first time in a long time I really started to feel old--like more of my life is behind me than in front of me now. I don't know if that's true--it's just how I felt at the time.

There was so much young life all around me, and feverish activity, and I remembered how it felt to be in that place feeling those things. For a moment or two, or three, I wished I could go back. I don't know if that's a horrible thing to feel or not, but I wished it with my heart. Not that I would undo anything that's happened since I've been to college, it's just that feeling I would like to get back, of the world being this wide open place filled with nothing but hope (not Barack Obama socialist hope--REAL HOPE). And I miss having dreams for myself, because most of my dreams are now for my children, and it's been this way for as long as I've had them (many, many years). I think I need to find a way to change all that and get out of this funk.

I was walking the other day and passed by this gorgeous magnolia tree. Have you ever seen one with your own eyes? They are staggeringly beautiful. The flower is like some sort of sculpture it is so exquisite. They make you want to stop and stare at them, and in this world of "hurry up and get there yesterday" that's saying something. It was the scent, though, that felt most like heaven. It's a scent you wish you could drink so you could get filled up with it. I think I will always want to live in a place where magnolia trees grow.

She brings light, she is like the sun

2009-05-23T13:37:00.000-07:00

"For nothing is fixed, forever and forever and forever, it is not fixed; the earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not cease to grind down rock. Generations do not cease to be born, and we are responsible to them because we are the only witnesses they have. The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other, and children cling to us. The moment we cease to hold each other, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out."~James Baldwin

The saddest part of today was when I was sitting way up in the civic center stadium while the class of 2009 marched in and I couldn't find my daughter among the sea of 1000 green caps and gowns.

I stood there looking for someone I knew so I could approximate in the alphabet where she would be and I couldn't pick out even one face that I recognized from so far up. I panicked then, just for a little bit, because I thought--who sends their kid to a high school with a graduating class of 1000? And I could feel tears pooling in my eyes with the ridiculousness of it all--but then I found her--decked out with her honors collar and ropes (cords) and medals and pins and my heart filled with joy. She never found me in the crowd, but I found her. She has done everything right and I hope our country doesn't get too screwed up before she gets to really shine because that would be a damn shame. She brings light, she is like the sun.

On the way over to the graduation ceremony, stuck in traffic, my husband sighed and asked me if our daughter just couldn't have skipped the ceremony and picked up her diploma at the school sometime next week. I've gotten good at taking this sort of remark and not exploding on the spot anymore. What I do is I tell him I can't entertain his nonsense at the moment and to please act normal. Then I'll file the comment away in my head somewhere and take it out (like now) and think--whatever will I do with myself if I have to deal with this craziness for the rest of my life.

You might think that your youngest daughter graduating from high school with so many honors she barely has room around her neck for more would be an experience you'd want to dive into and enjoy forever. But no--it's an inconvenience for him--finding a parking spot and whatnot. I had to remind him that today was not about him and I truly think that I should NOT have to do that sort of thing at this point in my life, but for life to run smoothly, I suck up the things that make me want to scream. I think I am getting better at accepting that life will not always be the way I want it to be.

Then it's time to choose a place to eat and of course there's a battle between the graduate and my husband and he doesn't seem to get that it's HER day and that he should take her where she wants to go. Nope. An argument ensues and I sit there feeling myself shrinking and wishing I could disappear because no one will "just go along" except for me. What's so hard about doing something you don't want to do once in awhile? My father used to tell me it builds character.

Anyway, I thought I'd be very emotional today but between my husband's juvenile behavior and my son's griping about not "having a plan about where to sit," and the kid who sat next to me who hogged the armrest while my husband hogged the one on the other side leaving me scrunched up and claustrophobic, and my camera malfunctioning, and the 12 or 13 people who needed to get up and as a result I had to get up to let them go by so that I was pretty much a like a jack-in-the-box for most of the ceremony, and then the restaurant wars afterwards--well, I was too aggravated to feel sentimental and weepy. Mostly I just wanted to hit someone.

I'm really proud of my daughter and all she has accomplished. I'm happy to think I played a small part in all that greatness.

Tic toc, tic toc

2009-05-15T13:44:00.000-07:00

"If someone love you for what you can do then it's flattering, but why do they love you? If someone loves you for who you are then they have to know you, which means you have to know them."~Ann Patchett

At the beginning of the week my husband informed me that he was taking the entire next week off because he felt burnt out from work. I wish I could be the type of wife who, when I heard something like that, could find some semblance of joy in that news. But I'm the type of person who thinks..."GRRREEAATTT!!! Another person I'll have to pick up after, and another person who just takes and takes and takes from me as though I am a never ending well of giving."

These impromptu vacations of his always involve "lists of things to do" which would be great if he took that list and did those things himself, but that's not what happens. What happens is that there becomes this constant talk of "togetherness" which translates into me doing more than my share of the work because I do things quickly while he seems to take on a supervisor role handing out critiques on how I'm coming along with whatever job he's got lined up for me. Totally not fun. His vacations mean more work for me and I don't understand why he doesn't understand why this would not excite me. These are the times when the ticking inside my head gets progressively louder by the day and because no one can see or hear it, it always comes as a surprise to everyone when I explode from the frustration of it all.

I, too, know why the caged bird sings.

Today he calls me and says, "Hey, how about next week we go room to room and deep clean everything and throw away stuff we don't need."

So, yeah, I'm really looking forward to THAT!

Searching for something

2009-05-14T19:46:00.000-07:00

To combat monotony in my life, I have taken to cooking new things. Every week I ask around the house for suggestions and someone always comes through with an idea and I make it. I've tried lots of different things and I've had more hits than misses, however I think this is mostly about having a challenge, of doing something different. My life has come to this: I cook for a little excitement, to say I've done something new.

My youngest has only 1 more day of high school left. I thought by now my heart would be breaking with sadness for all the time that has slipped by without me really noticing. I thought tears would constantly be at the ready to fall and fall some more. But here I am, not really all that wistful or sad. I cannot cry for what I am losing because I need to focus on everything good that is in front of her. There is a world out there with its arms open wide just waiting for her. I pray the world is gentle with her, with all of us she leaves behind.

I had a bit of a meltdown last weekend and if I must say so myself, it was not one of my brightest moments. I feel this ticking inside my head sometimes, like a bomb just waiting to go off at the smallest of provocations. I've learned to turn it off a good deal of the time, but there are moments when it gets the best of me and I lose control. Afterwards I feel like such a loser--like I will never be able to rise above the pettiness of life and people because inevitably, I engage in these despicable scenes where I don't know who I am anymore. And I could not even tell you what was really wrong, just that everything felt too much and one wrong word sent me over the edge. I resolve not to do it again until I do it again then feel rotten for my lack of self-control.

I'm still searching for the truth in religion, God, faith, church, life. I have this idea that the truth should be simple, clear, static. I think that the truth should not be subjective, depending on a particular agenda we might have inside our heads. It's like molding a truth to what you want it to be. That's not real. But I'll read something about church/God/religion and it will strike such a chord with me and I think that I have found the truth and then I'll read something else that makes more sense and completely leave the first truth to stand behind the second truth I've just found. So I think--what is it? What is the truth? Are there as many truths as there are people in this world, or is there one truth that I must dig and dig to find? And will that truth still be the same 10 years from now, because I want it to be the truth 10 years from now and not have to find out that I've had faith in something false. So is it that I'm afraid to be wrong--or wrong again? I think I am. It's not like I haven't been wrong a million times before. It's not such a big deal. If I'm wrong, life will go on and I'll just believe in a new truth. I should be happy that my heart is open to hearing everything and sifting through it all to try to find what I am looking for.

The ongoing list of things I don't want to do, but do anyway

2009-05-03T19:08:00.000-07:00

Things I do this week that I don't want to do but do anyway because I LIVE IN REALITY AND REALITY REQUIRES IT OF ME.

This will be a list that I add to as the days go by. I asked my daughter to move her car up the driveway so that another car could fit in. Well, you might have thought I was asking her to drive to Alaska to get me some ice what with all the huffing and puffing that went along with her moving her damn car. It took all of about 3 minutes but I was disturbing her "movie watching." Boo hoo hoo. Life is SO rough! So here's my list starting Sunday night:

Folded and put away about 20 towels.
Just threw in another load of laundry at 10:00 PM.
Listening to my husband bitch about seeing a spider--OMG! Whatever will we do? (I walked over and stomped the life out it).
Sorted through a bunch of socks.

Into the light

2009-04-27T19:38:00.001-07:00

Over the weekend, I had several moments when I had to actively fight being hateful, and I lost. It's not my nature to be hateful. I think I am the exact opposite of hateful, and because of that, it's easy for other people to view me as a doormat you stand on to wipe away any dirt you might have picked up on the bottom of your shoes. The people who love me think the well of my giving is bottomless--that I exist for that purpose alone. I think when it gets to be too much I have to scream for them to hear me, see me. And then they behave for a couple of days like I am a queen and then after that we repeat the whole process until I get hateful and start screaming again. I've never mapped out these episodes but I'd estimate a guess that this happens every couple of months. It's good to know that I can count on life never changing.

I think I mentioned before about how I decided to read the Bible and it has been a very sobering experience for me. Being raised a Catholic, I remember most of the stories, but what has surprised me is how much I missed as I left it to other people to interpret for me. I don't want to sound fanatical or anything, but I feel as though the experience of reading the Bible has changed my life. The messages of God in the Bible are very clear but they get lost in man's translations. Furthermore, God stresses that man should NOT translate his words because God says what he means and means what he says, so no translation is necessary.

The Catholic church has done lots of rewriting of the laws of God, and this is not something I recognized until I took the time to read the Bible. I followed where I was led and never questioned anything. This is just one more example of how I went along with what other people said to me or wanted for me. I have a long history of doing that and I am not sure why. I'm the "go along gal" even when there is voice in my head telling me to run in the other direction. It's not that I like sabotaging my life, but you might think so by some of the choices I have made.

Anyway, without going into a whole big spiel, I think I am finding truth inside the Bible, and the truth I am finding is throwing my life into a bit of a turmoil. I have to wrestle with the fact that I have been deceived by a church that has moved away from serving God. I mean--I didn't even realize that the Catholic church had changed God's ten commandments! But they did! And I just followed along reciting the Catholic church's altered commandments as if I was speaking the truth. And I felt self-important and superior to anyone who did not have the same beliefs. I did not know any better--but is that really a good enough excuse? I don't think so.

No one really likes the new me who keeps quoting God's words and telling everyone that the truth they believe is a lie. But it's like I can't stop. I want them to see what I see. And then I'll panic and think that maybe this new truth I'm believing is just another deception, another way that I'll end up being wrong about everything. That's what finding new truths has done to me--it has made me question everyone and everything.

I feel like the story of all of our lives has been written already and our purpose is to try to make the best choices that put us in the best position for peace in our next life. Obviously I have some things to work on. I am a work in progress. I am potentially awesome.

Positivity early in the morning

2009-04-20T10:26:00.000-07:00

My daughter was gathering her things to get ready to go to school and my husband yells out to her:

"Sara, drive carefully. There's lots of nuts out driving this time of the morning. Keep your wits about you. And be on the lookout for any end-of-the-year Columbine-type episodes at school. Have a great day!"

The nerve of some people

2009-04-18T20:27:00.000-07:00

While I was on vacation a week ago, we stayed at a really nice hotel with a pool that was located right on the ocean. We had an ocean front room and it was simply heavenly waking up, opening the shades and seeing the beautiful ocean right there in front of me. I would sit on the balcony late at night and listen to the waves crashing and think about how much I would like to live there forever. I belong near the ocean. Case closed.

During the day, my daughter would spend a lot of time at the pool because she doesn't especially like the annoyance of sand. From the beginning of the week there was a group of women (about 4 of them) who would come to the pool with their children (each woman had at least 3 kids) and they would hog a whole section of the pool area with all their pool/beach/snacking/drinking paraphernalia. This wasn't a quiet little group as you can imagine. There was lots of drama coming out of that corner, including, but not limited to: the women downing beers as early as 10:30 AM (who watches the kids when you're partying with the gals???), balls being misfired and landing on other hotel guests who were minding their own business, fights between the kiddos while the moms were focusing on their tans, and there was even an episode of a MISSING CHILD where they could not locate one of the children for about an HOUR. Come to find out, the little boy had wandered to the BEACH by himself to play in the ocean. The horror! I would need to be sedated for the duration if something like that happened on my watch, but this group merely gave the lad a little time out then he was sent back into the pool to splash and make noise to his heart's content.

This group could give soap operas a run for their money what with all the over-the-top-nonstop-nonsense. Both my daughter and I wondered where the husbands were because we never saw any men in the group. Then, on the second to the last day a man showed up and spent about an hour with the group--but that was it. I assumed they must be out fishing or golfing or whatever it is men do while avoiding taking care of their kids and hanging out with their wives on these "group" vacations. I've never really understood the need for group vacations. I know people who NEVER go on vacation unless they have another family (or two or three) going along with them. I don't get it. I keep thinking these people cannot stand to be alone with their own families for any extended period of time if they have to have "buffer" families along. Maybe I'm just an oddity. I only want my family around, and sometimes even THEY are too much for me, let alone 2 or 3 other families.

On the second to the last night there, my daughter and I headed out to dinner and as we were turning out of the parking lot of the hotel, I happened to look across the street and saw this entire group of people camped out at a house (a rental home). There were 5 cars outside the home, and everyone was on the front porch having some sort of gathering. I said to my daughter, "Is that the noisy group of people that have been at the pool all week?" (I thought I must be seeing things because if they were renting that house for vacation, there was NO WAY they should have been hanging out at the hotel pool). She said, "Yep, that's them."

Huh? I couldn't it believe it. I had noticed that a couple of the women had brought along beach chairs for when they went to the beach (from the pool), and I wondered why they would do that since we were given complimentary beach chairs and umbrellas if we stayed at the hotel. I decided to keep an eye on the cheaters the next day so that I could confirm their nefarious pool/beach shenanigans.

So the next day, I watched them at the pool, then they'd go to the beach (and they would take along their chairs), they'd go into the hotel and use the bathrooms. We ended up going out for a while and when I came back later that evening I noticed the troop marching over the stairs from the beach. The women instructed the kids to jump into the pool to wash the sand off, and they also rinsed their boogie boards off in the pool. Then the group took their belongings and made a beeline across the street to their vacation house for the evening. I kid you not.

As far as I am concerned, those people were stealing. They were using a pool for free that everyone else had to pay for. And the thing I couldn't get over was how brazen they all were. If I was blatantly stealing something, I think I would at least try to be as inconspicuous as possible and yet this little party did nothing to blend into the background--in fact, they behaved as though they owned the place. Who acts like this? Who thinks it is a good idea to teach your children that it's ok to be dishonest in this manner? Do they not have consciences? Don't they think it's important to do the right thing, especially when little eyes are watching?

I learn something new every day, and some days I learn more than one thing. Lately, the things I've been learning about people leave me wondering what the hell is wrong with some people.

Brighter than sunshine

2009-04-17T08:47:00.000-07:00

I came home from the grocery store Sunday afternoon to find my son sitting on a bench outside the front door armed with a hose and one of those car cleaning mitts. I asked him what he was doing and he explained that my husband was being driven crazy by a tiny bird that kept coming up to the brass kick plate on our front door. Apparently, the little bird could see it's reflection in the kick plate and hopped around cheep-cheeping at himself. So I was like...um...ok. "But what are YOU doing?" And he told me that he was waiting for the bird to return so that he could spray it with water or toss the mitt at it so that it would go away. This is what I live with. I went inside and I had to hear all about the terrorist bird (about the size of baseball) who would NOT stop making a racket while my husband was trying to watch TV. I told him to turn up the volume. I mean, REALLY. The little bird wasn't hurting anything or anyone. He was just hopping along the front step looking at himself and cheeping merrily and we have to immediately institute plans to murder the poor thing.

This reminds me of the time years ago when we were taking a road trip back home with the kids. It was a 18 hour trip and about 10 minutes into the ride, the kids were in the back screeching at each other at the top of their lungs. I had brought a book to immerse myself in and I just tuned them out but my husband went ballistic and pronounced that "Everyone better knock it off and remain silent for the rest of the trip!" Now that's reality for you!

The bird hasn't been back all week while my husband has been out of town so let's see if he makes a reappearance to start harassing him this weekend again.

I can't believe it's mid April already. Time is flying. My youngest daughter is getting ready to graduate from high school and I thought I'd be truly depressed by the prospect of her leaving to go off to college, but strangely, I'm just so excited for her and how well she has done. I really have been blessed to have children who have remained grounded in a world where it's so easy to get distracted by excesses everywhere. She has been especially hard hit by the loss of friendships due to their involvement in drinking,drugs and just plain rebellion towards EVERYTHING and she has managed to pick herself up and find new friends and a new way of life without them. She has kept her eye on the prize and I am unendingly proud of her for that.

There you go with hope again

2009-04-13T08:22:00.000-07:00

I spent the last week sitting on a beach staring out at this awe-inspiring ocean.

I keep this memory close and take it out when I need to remember just how beautiful life can be.

This is morning, it's when I spend the most time thinking about what I've given up

2009-03-31T08:08:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I feel invisible. Here's just one example: An email was sent out to a group of people asking if someone would step up and do the job of someone who would not be able to. I happened to be online at the time the email came in and I answered right away that I would be more than happy to cover for that person. I hit reply all, so that everyone would know and everyone could relax and not worry about stepping up to help. About a day later (today, in fact) another person on the email list piped in that he would do the job. Next thing I know, a flood of people replied how awesome this guy was to offer to help. I was like--WTF? I'm just so sick of people and the stupid games they play. Why can't anyone act normal? I know that I don't give off an air of liking to be dismissed and yet...there I was being dismissed by these people for no reason. Joe f-ing Blow is so awesome and I am---invisible, I guess.

Then I email my parents to see how they're doing and I filled them in on what's going on here. I also jumped up on my soapbox and did a little political ranting because I am just so incredulous about our precarious state of affairs as far as the economy is concerned (I believe the government will go bankrupt at some point), and the response I get back from them went something like this..."glad to hear you're doing well, life is filled with disappointments, the better you get used to it, the better off you'll be."

Ok. I didn't mention a thing about being disappointed. Hell, I'm ANGRY, not disappointed. I never get the feeling that they know anything about who I really am. For Christmas this past year they sent me a granny bathrobe and a gold pin thing that you see old ladies wear on the outside of their jackets. I am NOT KIDDING. I've never seen anything like it in my life. When I opened the gift, me and the kids started heart-attack laughing over it and I couldn't stop. I laughed so hard that I knocked off a Hallmark angel from the table next to me and the head of the angel broke off. I figured that was a sign that perhaps I shouldn't have been disrespectful of the gifts I was given because I really loved that angel. Immediately I stopped laughing.

Anyway...if I had to assign a theme to my childhood years it would be that "life is filled with disappointments" line. My childhood was great, but what was pounded into my head from an early age was this: be seen and not heard, don't question anything, dream small, aim low, follow the leader, be a good child of God, be good, color inside the lines, keep anger in check, fighting is pointless, live INSIDE the box, give other people control over your life, surrender. It was like living with someone's hands around my throat squeezing the life out of me bit by bit. It's taken me forever to knock those bastard hands off from around my neck. Forever.

I am running on anger now. It's behind everything that I do. It bubbles up just beneath the surface and is the motivating factor that keeps me moving. I want to break things. Then I want to stomp on top of the pile of things that I have broken for good measure. I keep the anger stoked by reminding myself of all the different ways I am asked to deal with asinine people and situations while keeping a straight face as I'm dealing with it all. I have to keep the fire alive or I am liable to give into a paralyzing sadness where I won't want to do anything.

Some of the anger is self directed because I'm finding out late in the game that I have been had by people I've trusted all of my life. I refused to believe evil exists and now I see it everywhere. I am having a crisis of faith--not in God, because He remains a constant, but rather in people, in humanity. It's like I've been sleepwalking my entire existence and have finally woken up and now I am on the war path. My mind is alert, questioning, and above all else, angry.

So I wake up angry, all day long I am angry and I even go to bed angry. It's with me all the time. Sometimes I'll wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, and it is still there with me in the quiet darkness reminding me that I need to stay vigilant lest I fall back into that mindless, listless sleep again where I can be deceived and not even know it.

There is a reason I am alive right here, right now. There is a plan for me written somewhere and it's important that I wake the f*&k up and stay awake to find out what that plan is. My anger keeps me on the path to searching out my destiny. It my fuel. It keeps me going.

Congress passes Hiltler Youth Service Bill

2009-03-27T03:23:00.000-07:00

Expanded Americorps has an authoritarian feel

Is anyone else besides me alarmed by Obama and our government yet???? They've stripped the "mandatory" wording from the bill, but as we all know, it can be slipped back in at any time (Friday evenings after everyone else is asleep). Get your kids prepared to go off to indoctrination camp because it's coming (uniforms included!!!)!

He promised this BEFORE the election, then wiped it off his website when it was given too much negative attention in the blogosphere--however, now that the teleprompter narcissist is in power, the bill was not only added back on, it was PASSED without hardly a word of it being mentioned in our mainstream media (which is there just to feed propoganda to the unsuspecting public--what you don't know won't hurt you and all that...).

This is the kind of bill that is needed when a child does not have parents who puts him/her first in their lives. This is the kind of bill that is needed to keep kids out of trouble--which is something that PARENTS should be doing all on their own without government interference. The wording in this bill is astoundingly creepy.

All I can say is my children will be participating in this little program OVER MY DEAD BODY.

Read the text of the bill HERE.

Saturday at the park

2009-03-21T20:38:00.000-07:00

I have decided I am tired of being phony. It takes too much effort. I used to feel the need to fill silences with lots of meaningless words, asking questions I don't care to know the answer to, agreeing to things I detest, laughing at things that aren't funny--you know the drill.

I am clear on what matters in my life, on the people that matter to me. I never have to be phony around my family--ever. I can be my truest self and they love me anyway. I never have to be anything more than who I am and I never feel the need to fill the quiet with mindless noise.

There are people who teach me things without ever being aware of the lessons they are teaching me. These are mostly people I abhor for one reason or another, but they leave me thinking, questioning, assessing, and ultimately changing the way I move through my life.

Too much time has been spent trying to bend myself in ways that are contrary to who I am. I think of all the wasted time I will never get back and that is more than enough reason to put an end to the phoniness once and for all.

On hair, love, politics, and God

2009-03-18T19:48:00.001-07:00

"There are times to cultivate and create, when you nurture your world and give birth to new ideas and ventures. There are times of flourishing and abundance, when life feels in full bloom, energized and expanding. And there are times of fruition, when things come to an end. They have reached their climax and must be harvested before they begin to fade. And finally of course, there are times that are cold, and cutting and empty, times when the spring of new beginnings seems like a distant dream. Those rhythms in life are natural events. They weave into one another as day follows night, bringing, not messages of hope and fear, but messages of how things are.”~Chogyam Trungpa

I chopped off most of my hair today--the first time in about five years. They divided my hair out into four sections of ponytails then cut them off. The hair will go to Locks of Love. It makes me so happy giving it all away. I told my daughter that the best thing about getting it cut today was throwing my purse over my shoulder and not having my hair get all tangled up in the strap. I feel much lighter now, like my head is floating above my shoulders.

I know that a lot of time has passed since I last posted but I have not felt like writing lately. I've had this heavy heart for a while in terms of our world and where we're headed and when I'm troubled like I've been, it helps me to turn inward to try to find peace. I've had this horrible feeling about what's going to happen to the United States--and feel like we're not heading in a direction that I feel is good for us. I believe our government is filled with people who do not have our best interests at heart and it's hard being at the mercy of people I mistrust with every fiber of my being. I've wanted to do something--anything--to make sure that my family survives. I believe the financial crisis is much worse than what our traitorous government tells us and so I've been trying to prepare by doing things NOW that I hope will help us down the line. I've started storing food and other sorts of supplies in preparation for the worst. If the worst does not come, I can always use the stuff I've bought anyway. I'm not typically an alarmist, but I listen to my heart when it tells me something is wrong. I think if I listen to my heart with pure intentions, then my heart will not fail me.

I bought a large print Bible the other day (because my sight is failing me) and plan on reading it cover to cover. I grew up Catholic but have not been inside a church for more years than I care to tell you. I went to Catholic schools all my life but after I left home, I decided that there was too much about the church that rubbed me the wrong way. I know too many people who go to church on Sundays believing themselves to be holier than thou, yet on the remaining six days of the week, they are as hateful as the day is long. I never felt any connection to God inside a church for some reason and because I did not attend mass anymore, I figured that I was knowingly signing a one way ticket to hell for myself (Catholic guilt will do that to you).

But even though I stopped going to church, I never stopped having a relationship with God, in fact, I think my connection to Him grew stronger the minute I stopped forcing myself to pray with a church full of people. And now with everything that is happening all around me, I felt compelled to go back and read God's words to see how I can apply them to my life--to find answers that I know are inside if I take the time to read them carefully. I feel slightly ashamed that I am such a voracious reader and yet I've never read the entire Bible. I've sat in churches and allowed other people to tell me their interpretations, but I've never challenged myself to seek the wisdom I know I will find there on my own. Rest assured I am not getting all God squad on everyone because I still manage to sin up a storm on a daily basis without even trying.

Spring is almost here and I am loving seeing the color come back into the world. There are miracles everywhere when I stop long enough to notice them.

You're as subtle as a brick in the small of my back

2009-02-15T11:14:00.000-08:00

The truth is that I know the answers to all the questions I am always asking myself, or at least most of them.

The truth comes back to me, and the choices that I made and make, and really that is all there is to it.

It's all so simple, and I like to make it complicated, mysterious, unique just to me, when it is not.

When I need answers I should just look in a mirror because the answer is always me.

Break a window, burn a souffle, scream a lullabye

2009-02-14T13:21:00.000-08:00

I have it in my head that other people lead more normal lives than I do. By that I mean when other people get in the car to go out to eat with their families, I'm sure the trip to wherever they're going doesn't end up in shouting matches like it does here--where I have to hold myself back from opening my door and jumping out into the road just to get away from all of them. Normal in that when someone suggests to their father that he might be passing by the dry cleaners where he needs to drop off his shirts for work, everyone doesn't end up listening to a tirade about how someone doesn't need anyone telling him how to drive or where to go because he knows everything and takes care of everything.

Normal in that people can agree on one place to go to eat without it being a major production like we always have here--people within a family who can compromise and not always put themselves first because they feel they work the hardest or deserve to make all the decisions for everyone because they earn the money that will buy the food everyone will eat. I want normal people in my life and I don't have normal people in my life, and when I look around me, I think everyone has normal people except me, and I'm jealous of them. I think I started off my life pretty normal then gravitated towards crazy and now I am neck deep in it and I want out even though I know I cannot go.

I know tomorrow I will feel differently, but now, I am beside myself with regret. I don't want out of control yellers who make mountains out of molehills, who fight dirty by bringing up things that have taken place years ago just because it's easier than being normal and letting things go. I'm sick of scab-pickers who feed me the most beautiful words thinking that I will believe in words when there aren't any actions to back them up.

It's the day of love and after attempting to going out to eat with my family, we all came home and went our separate ways because we can't do the simple things without making them difficult and ridiculous and so terribly insane it makes me ashamed to even write it all down. I took the valentine my husband gave me and I went into the kitchen and I got scissors and cut it up into a million pieces and left in by his wallet. It felt cathartic cutting that thing up.

Don't give me a valentine that speaks of love then scream like a maniac about all the things in life that should not matter because that is not the way I have ever operated and if you don't know that by now, then I guess I am living with people who do not know me at all.

And it's moments like this that I wonder how in the world I ended up in this place, in this life with these people. What's the purpose, the message, the life lesson I need to learn that put me right here where I least want to be?

And I think...how could I have gotten it so wrong? How could I have thought I knew that this is what I wanted for my life when I was only 21 years old? And I want so badly to go back and make different choices...ones which do not lead me HERE with a person who finds it so easy to stamp out my light, to leave me lonely.

You're a human sparkler, you are.

2009-02-09T09:52:00.000-08:00

For 18 years I have LOVED watching you shine!

Bring your checkbook

2009-01-30T15:07:00.000-08:00

It's tennis time which means that I'm going to have lots and lots of stories about how incredibly ridiculous a simple sport becomes in the hands of "professionals."

I am being bombarded already with flyers telling me how much I will owe for sweat suits, uniforms (they get a new one EVERY YEAR), balls, spirit wear, food, booster dues and sponsorship monies. Economic hard times? Forget about it. Bring your checkbook to the meeting, that's what they have in big bold letters at the top of the flyers.

And again with the fake birthdays. I cannot take the fake birthdays anymore!!! I wrote about this last year but I think I deleted it because I didn't want anyone from her team to find it and read it...but the coach assigns every girl a fake birthday if her birthday doesn't fall during the tennis season so that no one feels left out. Then the parents are asked to bake up treats for the occasion and then they all sing happy birthday even if their birthdays are in August. I honestly have never seen anything as silly as this in all my life. I just took a quick scan of the fake birthdays (all scheduled out on a calendar!) and every single girl has a fake birthday assigned to her except MY DAUGHTER who does have a birthday that falls within the tennis season.

It makes me want to scream. This is what is wrong with kids these days. We have to make everything even stevens even if your kid sucks and my kid is spectacular--they will both get an award so no one goes home sad. Boo hoo hoo. As a another example (not tennis related but along the same lines), for senior superlatives this year they have things like BEST SMILE, BEST PERSONALITY, DAZED AND CONFUSED, and MOST ATHLETIC but do you think they have anything that says SMARTEST? Nope. We do not want to celebrate academic achievement IN SCHOOL now would we? Don't get me started because I can go on for days...

Last year we had to donate to a food fund then were also asked to bring something each week to boot and when I questioned them about the money they went into a long spiels about the cost of food as if I am some sort of idiot. Of course I know how much food costs, but do we really need to bring a huge can of Twizzlers and peanut M&M's for the players? If they cut out the crap they'd have plenty of money for food. Let's use a little common sense, people. These moms go crazy about the food and I'm a mom myself and I am telling you I DO NOT UNDERSTAND IT. They police the food and watch how much you take and it's all so petty. I stay as far away as possible from these people because I have a habit of saying what's on my mind and that doesn't go over too well with the politically correct folks who love appearing virtuous while deep inside they are as mean as the day is long.

That's it for now. I'm sure I'll be back with more shortly!

January is 31 days too long

2009-01-28T10:56:00.000-08:00

I'm waiting for January to be over. I know. It's not like once February rushes in that things will magically change and life will be better. I just find January hard, have found it hard for years. It hasn't helped that I've been sick, and that the sun hasn't been shining as much. I was born to have the sun beating down on me, shining on me. I'm not sure of much, but I'm quite sure of that.

I've lived in both the north and the south so I know for a fact that I thrive better where there is lots of sun. I remember moving to the south and being amazed at all the sun I had missed all my life. When I woke up in the morning I couldn't believe it was sunny almost everyday (when I lived in Florida). I'd open the blinds and think, "It's sunny again?" It was like I had died and gone to heaven. I will always love Florida for the sun and for making me feel like I was on vacation every single day that I lived there.

I can't think of anything else to write that I haven't written before so I won't bore y'all or waste your time any further. I'm living. I'm alive. Life is good.

Things I'm tired of...

2009-01-17T18:07:00.001-08:00

Here are a few things I am tired of:

People constantly referring to themselves in the third person. Enough already. Say ME, not Her. Say I, not SHE. I have had it up to my eyeballs with this third-person writing crap. Is this the new thing and I'm just out of the loop? If so, I'll remain on the outside. I don't know why it's annoying me so much but honest to God I feel like smacking people who constantly write in this manner.

People who decide it's a good idea to buy a present for someone then solicit funds from everyone because they think it's such a great idea and that you must want to be a part of it. Newsflash: I don't want to be a part of it. I don't want my husband to be a part of it. At work they are always after him for money for this one and that one...for birthdays, Christmas and whatthefuckever they can create, and I am just sick to death of it all. Why do we have to contribute money for a present for the secretary of my husband's boss? HUH? She doesn't do any work for my husband. I type all his shit. Nobody has a collection for me so why should we contribute money for her? It grates on my last nerve.

Also, let me add to this group, people who ask me and my husband to buy crap from their kids when we have three kids of our own, TWO in college and one who will be in college next year. Do you think we have $20 extra dollars to spend on an apple pound cake to support your kid's baseball team? No we do not but my husband buys it anyway because he doesn't want people to think we're cheap. Okkkkkkkkkkk. Every month it's something new. ENOUGH! I never, ever had my kids sell things to other people because I know how expensive it is and yet here we are now stuck with people who want to take, take, take all the time and don't think for a minute about how rude they are being by putting us on the spot. I'm beginning to seriously hate these people.

Birthdays right after the holidays. I know it's not their fault, however, I find myself hating January and February because of all the birthdays that keep popping up. The whole thing wears me out--what with the lists of things people want when they already have more than enough and then I feel bad because like I said before, they shouldn't be penalized for being born right after Christmas. I can't enjoy their birthdays, though. It feels like I'm in the middle of great big avalanche. It feels like I'm drowning.

People who join gyms then come home and eat a whole plate of brownies.

The fact that the price of a barrel of oil keeps going down, yet our gas prices have been gradually creeping up these past two weeks. We were at an all time low a couple of weeks ago at $1.39. Within two weeks it's shot back up to $1.79. WTF? I know that's still cheap, but WTF? The news reports that the price is creeping up so that when summer rolls around we won't have prices spike up quickly. HUH? It's fucking January!!!! And then I start hearing how Congress wants to put a tax on gas to get it back up to $3.00 so that we'll all start driving fuel efficient cars that no one wants to drive while THEY'RE tooling around in major gas-guzzlers. This is America. I want to drive what I want to drive and not what some out of touch elitist bullshitter wants me to drive so that they can feel better about themselves. The hypocrisy of these people is mind boggling. I am convinced that the purpose of the new administration will be to kill the middle class. I am not being over dramatic. I truly believe this. I will be happy if I am proven wrong but I doubt that's going to happen. They do not want working hard to pay off for us. It's too discouraging for me to think too much about.

My husband asking me to come sit by him while he watches television. Huh? He wants me to sit by him and watch him watch tv. That makes no sense. He doesn't want to watch what I want to watch, he wants me to sit beside him and be happy watching him watch what he wants to watch. This makes me think that he thinks I'm the sort of simple minded person who doesn't mind being bored out of my mind for extended periods of time when in fact, I do mind that VERY MUCH. I usually say no but he keeps asking me anyway. I don't ask him to come sit beside me as I read on the computer. It wouldn't occur to me to even ask that and I don't understand why he continues to ask me to watch him watch tv. Perhaps I give off the impression that I am an airhead, but I don't think so.

The cold. I live in the south because I love being hot. I sat watching my daughter play tennis today in the bitter cold. I wanted to sit in the car but then she asked me if I was coming out to watch her and so I told her I'd be out as soon as I saw her match begin. An hour and a half into the match, snowflakes started falling softly out of the sky and we all looked up, and for a moment, I did not hate that my feet were frozen numb or that I could not stop shaking in an attempt to keep myself warm. I haven't seen snow in years. It felt like a small, secret miracle sent to make me happy when my heart was frozen over along with the rest of me.

Off the top of my head

2009-01-15T08:28:00.000-08:00

"An honest confession is good for the soul, but bad for the reputation." ~Thomas Dewar

I listen to the same music all the time. I think my IPOD songs tell you a lot about who I am. I never remember my dreams at night but if I fall asleep during the day (rarely) my dreams are vivid. The two recurring dreams I have are of all my teeth falling out while I try to catch them in my hands and of me flying. I love the dreams where I fly. I get angry when I think people aren't listening to me. During Christmas vacation, my youngest daughter started speaking to me in this squeaky, baby voice and I cannot tell you how much it feels like nails being dragged up and down a blackboard. I know it's irrational but it makes me want to scream bloody murder. I want to tell her to knock it off, but I don't. Lately it seems like everyone uses me as a sounding board for all the things that suck in their lives. I find myself tuning them out and you would not believe how easy it is for me to do that. I like eating Kellogg's Honey Smacks out of the box. I'm sick of making the same things for dinner all the time but change is met with resistance here in this house. While I'm making dinner, all I can think about is how much I want to get the mess I'm making cleaned up. I saw a report on Fox News the other day about how more and more adult children are moving back home after college and how married couples don't get to have that "empty nest" syndrome anymore. It depressed me because THAT IS MY LIFE. I can't imagine a time when one or more of them won't be here and I think if I knew this a long time ago, I would have waited to have children because at least then I could look back and remember a time when the world revolved around me, when I got to be first. I love the smell of hyacinths. Whenever I see them I have to stop and smell them and for a few minutes afterwards, I am happy. I think it's great that the scent of a flower can make me happy. I really don't see what the big deal is about Tina Fey. I just finished The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett, and I think I will love that book forever. I went out for lunch yesterday and had Chinese food. My fortune said something about "not spending foolishly--and to be frugal." I hate fortunes like that even though I don't place a lot faith in fortune cookies. I guess I'd rather not be lectured while I'm at lunch and that's what it feels like. I'd rather be honest than politically correct. I live inside my head a lot. Sometimes I'm mean and I know I'm being mean but it's like I can't help myself. Mostly, though, I'm incredibly nice. I stopped watching Oprah because I hold her partially responsible for getting Barack Obama elected. I remember her urging him to run a number of years ago when he was a guest on her show and, of course, he said he wouldn't because he was too inexperienced and look what happened. I curse Oprah for that. I used to think that writing letters when I'm unhappy about something or someone was an effective way to try to change things but the last 4 letters I've written have taught me that all I'm really doing is wasting my time. I think marriage is harder than motherhood. I wish I could get back all the time I've wasted trying to get people to like me or think that I am worthy. If I find out someone has hurt one of my children, all I want to do is seek revenge on their behalf. I take burning hot showers when I can't get warm. I always wear socks to bed and have to have my hair in a high ponytail or it feels like my hair is choking me. I think the guy across the street is a drug dealer. He moves these gigantic speakers in and out of his basement on a regular basis and that's where I imagine he stores his drugs. I know a little about almost everything because I read so much. I learn by doing. I force myself to drink lots of water when I'd rather be drinking Diet Pepsi, although Pepsi's new logo, which reminds me of Obama, is surprisingly making it easier for me. I love to bake but I don't usually eat the things I bake. I don't know how to break the habit of wanting to please others, to make other people happy. I do it unconsciously and it's only afterwards that I'm left to think what was I thinking... and I feel guilty for feeling angry at those people who take my kindnesses for granted and allow me to always put them first even though I'm the one who has taught them that it's ok to think of me as an afterthought.

Vulnerable, All-Knowing

2009-01-09T17:54:00.000-08:00

You know those employee team building exercises where you climb a ladder then fall backwards into the arms of your co-workers down below? I'm not the type of person who could easily do that. Even if you promised me the world, even if my co-workers were all muscle-bound workout freaks who could pump three times my weight without breaking a sweat, even if you told me I would lose my job if I did not do it, I know that I would have the hardest time letting go and trusting them to catch me. Someone would have to push me. They would have to contend with me gripping whatever I could grip in order not to drop. I would put up a terrible fight. I would have the hardest time voluntarily letting go.

I don't like being a passenger in cars anymore, I want to be the driver. It drives my husband crazy the way I am always gasping and shouting "red light!" or "pedestrian 10 feet ahead" or "slow down!" I hang onto the ceiling hook sometimes, and I do this without even knowing I am doing it which drives him all the more crazy until he is shouting back at me that I need to shut up and allow him to drive in peace! and hasn't he kept me safe for years? and what's my major malfunction anyway???? I have no answer for this. I'm afraid if I don't do my shout-out-warnings that something will happen and then we'll all be sorry. I like to err on the side of safety.

I have days when I feel fragile from the moment I wake up. It's like instead of being whole, I'm all these little pieces that are threatening to splinter apart and I'm afraid if I start breaking that I will never be able to catch all that is falling away. I move through the world carefully on those days until the feeling of fragileness disappears. I guess you could say I get through them by living through them because I haven't found a better way around it.

Following my heart

2009-01-02T11:32:00.000-08:00

I'm deleting the post I wrote yesterday about my daughter because I've just been feeling disloyal about it (even though everything I wrote is true). I feel like I'm being exploitative--bashing her when I should be protecting her. I know it will remain in reader feeds, but I don't want it up where I can see it.

Wishing for everything, committing to nothing (Happy New Year)

2008-12-31T14:00:00.000-08:00

"May all your troubles last as long as your New Year's resolutions." ~Joey Adams

I am trying to come up with a list of things that I want to do/accomplish in 2009 but I'd hate to post something that would leave concrete evidence of me failing. I'm more the type that keeps a mental list that can be easily erased, forgotten or revised at any time to suit my purposes. I am not ashamed to say that lists of things to do make me nervous. Whenever I do have the forethought to create one, I usually leave it behind me when I set off to do what needs to get done or I simply just lose it on purpose so I have a ready made excuse for coming up short.

I'm aiming for lots of happiness in 2009 for myself and for my loved ones. And good health, too. I want to read more, to never stop learning because I've found an idle mind breeds discontent. I'm hoping I can find a way to incorporate some of my dormant dreams into reality. I will need much courage for that, and so I'm aiming to reach deep down inside and find that, too, dust it off and use it. I want to remember to look at each day as the gift that it is and do things in the span of each day that will make me proud of how I am living my life. I want to make myself a priority, which I never do, but I think I deserve it now that my children are pretty much grown. I want to keep writing because it feels necessary for me to write things down, even if no one is reading--it's the part of me that says the most about me, even when I am guarded. Mostly, I just want to live another year so that I can come back here next year and wish for another.

Happy New Year!

Togetherness

2008-12-29T17:36:00.000-08:00

" When our relatives are at home, we have to think of all their good points or it would be impossible to endure them." ~George Bernard Shaw

So...um...I'm trying to enjoy all the togetherness we're having around here lately. There's not one quiet place to go to, not one space that isn't littered with someone's "stuff." I remind myself that a clean house isn't what's important in life, even though I've spent so much time lately getting everything organized. I hate thinking that was all a waste of time, but maybe I can get back there again when everyone goes back to school and back to work. I do love sleeping in and not having anything specific to do or anywhere specific to go. That's nice. We went to Outback Steakhouse tonight and we never go out to eat on Monday's, so that's a plus. I count the pros and the cons of having everyone here every minute of the day and I tell myself that what's most important in life is FAMILY. I'll finish the book I've been trying to finish some other time. I've got "little drives up the road" to take with my husband...

Christmas was wonderful. I can't believe it's over already. I will keep my tree up at least another week because it makes me happy. I received some great gifts, two of my favorites being paintings that my son and my daughter painted for me (my children are all so multi-talented that it's not funny--they did not get it from me--I can't draw a stick figure to save my life (and I wasn't so great at sports either and they are natural athletes)--but they have it all--and I am so lucky they are mine!!! The artistic and athletic genes skipped right on over me. I must give my husband his due, he was a professional athlete at one point, so I know they get a lot of it from him (and my father who was an Allstar athlete). My mother has athletic genes on her side, too. I have a cousin who played professional baseball. It's tough being so ordinary among such greatness, but I'm a great cheerleader and everyone needs a great cheerleader sitting somewhere on the sidelines sending positive vibes, or comforting words when needed.

I'm sort of like Mary Poppins. I swoop in and save the day, and make everyone's life easier so that they can be the greatest people ever.

Burning the city down to show you the light

2008-12-26T19:40:00.000-08:00

"The important thing is not to stop questioning." ~Albert Einstein

My in laws are very good to my children and my husband. They are so thoughtful and loving. Watching how down-to-earth and generous they are makes me want to be more like them. Family is very important to them and they'd do anything for those that they love.

For some reason, however, they do not seem to like me. I don't know if it's something I've done or some unconscious signal I send off to them that has caused this. I've searched my head and my heart but I can't come up with anything. If I'm in a room with them--they speak to me like I'm an acquaintance--not part of the family. I try not to let this get under my skin, but mostly it lives under my skin, where it always feels hot to the touch.

Here are some of the ways they have made it clear to me that I live on the periphery of their lives:

They never recognize my birthday with a card while everyone else gets cards and presents. I know it's silly to want a card from them, but I do. I send them cards for their birthdays and sign my husband's name as well as the children's. If I left it up to my husband, they wouldn't receive a thing. I could be hateful and retaliate by not sending them cards but I try hard not to be blatantly hateful to people who are so good to everyone but me.

The first year we lived in FL, they sent a box filled with Christmas presents down to us. Upon opening the box, there were at least 5 presents apiece for everyone and there was one gift for me. It was an ugly brown candle and my MIL put a note inside the box that said, "here's a little remembrance for you." WTF? I took that candle and put it in my sitting room and every night I would light that sucker and think to myself, "here's a little remembrance for you." As long as I live, I will never forget that candle or that little note she sent. Each night, I felt like the flickering flame was mocking me, but I was determined to burn it down into nothingness and I did.

Whenever they call here and I pick up the phone, they do not say hello to me, they simply ask for one of the favored members of the family (either my husband or the children). Afterwards, I tell my husband how insulting it is that they cannot even acknowledge me with a hello and he explains it away by saying, "they don't mean anything by it, they're just getting old." I can't wait until I am old enough to blame everything on old age because it seems like it's a great excuse for getting away with things you'd normally be held accountable for in the real world.

When we used to live near them, we'd visit them and as soon as we entered their house, they'd ask everyone what they wanted to drink or eat and they'd pretty much ignore me. I got served last.

Then this Christmas, my MIL sends envelopes with checks for everyone but me. I don't care about the money--what bothers me is that my MIL doesn't think about how I might feel seeing everyone getting something but me--seeing everyone's name on the outside of an envelope but mine. I mean, what goes through her head when she's doing stuff like this? It makes me feel invisible. It makes me feel not good enough. I could not hold myself back from saying something on Christmas Day about this--that I just don't get how they make it so glaringly obvious that they do not like me. My husband told me that I was over reacting, and that OF COURSE they love me. I guess I'm just a little slow picking up the love signals. All I wanted to hear from my husband was, "you know something, you're right, it's a rotten thing to do (or NOT do)," but it seems that not only do I have to put up with their constant slighting of me, but I must not be outraged or say anything about it or I'm labeled "super-sensitive" or it is implied that I am too clueless to know that being left out translates into me being loved. Right.

My parents send my husband presents and cards on his birthday and on Christmas. I wonder what they would think if they knew that my in laws repeatedly ignore me. I would hope they would think it is horrible but I'm not ever going to tell them because I don't want them feeling sorry for me. It's an indignity I'd rather bear alone. And since it's uncool for me to talk about this anywhere, I'll talk about it here where I know none of them will ever find me.

Because they are so kind and generous to everyone else, I feel it's my place to find happiness in seeing THEM be happy and I'm so endlessly grateful that they have each other. I find comfort in that. When I first met them (many years ago) I was so excited to think I'd be a part of their little world where love felt pure and limitless and safe--like a secret treasure you want to hold onto forever. It's like I'm stuck on the outside looking in, wondering what it is that stops them from loving me the way they love everyone else.

I am old enough and wise enough to know that you cannot make someone love you if they don't but that doesn't make it any easier to accept. I think the distance between us helps. I do not have it in my face so much anymore--just on occasion--and I can sneak away if it feels like too much so that I can gather my wits together and pretend I don't really care. In another life, I was probably an actress of some sort. I can pull off fake ok-ness like nobody's business.

Despite all this, I can truly say that I love them for all that they've been and done for the rest of my family. I'm happy they have each other to count on and to love. I know our lives are richer for having them in it.

May your hearts be light

2008-12-23T17:48:00.000-08:00

"May the spirit of Christmas bring you peace,
The gladness of Christmas give you hope,
The warmth of Christmas grant you love."~Author Unknown

I went out to do a little last minute shopping today (it's the way I do Christmas). There were two incidents that threatened my holiday spirit: 1.) I held open the door for a young man who was pushing his child in a stroller and he walked by me and didn't say THANK YOU, so I shouted after him, "YOU'RE WELCOME!!!" I mean, give me a break. I was busy and could have let the door slam shut but I wanted to be kind and he couldn't even say thank you. Sometimes I can't stand people!!! and 2.) I was driving down the road and an accident had occurred and I was trying to shift into the left lane (I had my blinkers on) because the right lane was blocked and I counted 6 cars go by before anyone would allow me to merge in (everyone else pretended I was invisible!!). So much for good will among men. At that point I decided that I would head home and have my husband take me out to lunch to cheer me up but when I arrived home, he was gone--to get a haircut and buy a few presents, so I quickly ate one of those Jello pudding cups and headed back out to shop. I had better luck later in the afternoon. No more unpleasant encounters. My Christmas spirit is back intact.

I am currently trying to muster up the enthusiasm to wrap presents. Ugh. I find it such a waste of time but I know it has to be done. I also have not baked even one Christmas cookie this year (for us anyway--I did bake some a week ago for some pre-school kids). I'm not going to stress about it, though, because we have plenty to eat and that's the main thing.

I have everyone home again and it fills me with happiness. The house is alive with music, laughter and occasional bickering and I'm loving it all.

I'm going to be busy being busy the next couple of days but I wanted to wish everyone a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS.

Newsflash: I was born, but I was not born yesterday

2008-12-20T18:23:00.000-08:00

Last night my husband asked me if it was alright if he bought me a recliner for Christmas. Um...sounds like a present for him under the guise of being a present for me, especially since I've never expressed any interest in getting a recliner whereas he mentions at least once a week how he'd like one.

The sacred is in the ordinary

2008-12-17T16:31:00.001-08:00

"The great lesson is that the sacred is in the ordinary, that it is to be found in one's daily life, in one's neighbours, friends, and family, in one's backyard." - Abraham Maslow

I was going to write about the reply I got from my daughter's teacher today but I've allowed that woman to take up too much of my time today and so I will write about that another time.

Instead, I will talk about dribbling brightly colored lights among the bushes out front. I love Christmas lights--colored, preferably, but white will do in a pinch and on a mantel decorated with my favorite Christmas things.

I found the star for the top my tree and the tree skirt so I did not have to go out and purchase new ones. The old me would rush out and buy new things without thinking, but the new me wants to live a simpler life--and what could be more simple than taking the time to find things you know you have but can't find because you have so much stuff? I could seriously open some sort of store with all the stuff I've accumulated over the course of my life. I wish I knew then what I know now--that things are just things and the only importance they hold is the importance you assign them yourself.

My son is on his way home from college and we're thinking of decorating his room with Christmas lights to welcome him. I'm so excited to see him again. It feels like years and like just yesterday that he went away...if that makes sense--long and short at the same time.

There are days when it seems the fates are conspiring to drive me crazy and I fight to keep positive. On those days I look for the little things to bring me happiness--like a strand of colored lights, or the thought of my son coming back home to us.

Productive living

2008-12-16T17:07:00.000-08:00

My house is looking awesomely awesome. I am almost all done with the painting and I have to say that it looks like a professional came in and did the job. I even did all the baseboards and trim, which was tedious, but I'm so happy with the results. Everything is so clean and sharp. I'm so used to doing the same things day in and day out without anyone ever noticing and it was so nice to do something I felt really proud about, something I got excited about doing even though it got a little boring at times. I blared the ITUNES or listened to Rush on talk radio and time flew. I think I rock as a painter.

I got our Christmas tree today. It was small enough that I could carry it and fit it in my car (actually I got the guy at Home Depot to carry it for me), but I did drag it out of the car and into the house and put the whole thing up myself. I can't find my star or my tree skirt, so I'll have to go buy new ones tomorrow, but the tree looks good and smells spectacular. Of course it's about 60 degrees out today so the "feel" of Christmas is missing but I'm sure if I wait a few days, it'll get cold again.

I had to write another letter today...this time to one of my daughter's teachers. She is taking an elective course in "volunteering" and apparently the teacher told another class that the class my daughter is in (along with about 5 other girls) were "incompetent fools with behavioral problems." Excuse me? My daughter hasn't missed a day of school for sickness in all her high school years, gets straight A's, takes all AP and gifted courses, has played on a VARSITY tennis team since freshman year, and ranks in the top ten percent of her senior class (out of over 1,000 students) and this woman has the nerve to call her incompetent? I don't think so. I have spoken before about my disdain for public school teachers and if I had to do it again, I would have sent all my children to private schools. Public schools are all about stamping out the individuality of students in favor of mass producing cookie cutter kids. This might serve kids well in high school, but it sucks for dealing in the REAL WORLD. I tell my children to stand up for themselves and speak out for themselves and when my daughter DOES, she gets told that "things aren't up for discussion and to be quiet." Screw that. I tell her they are miserable people and when she's successful she won't have them to thank because they failed her on so many levels. Just because someone is in a position of authority over you doesn't mean you have to sit back and let them try to tear you down.

I also wrote a letter to the owner of the plumbing company who screwed me over. I let it all rip out of me because I know how I am and if I do not let someone know when I am bothered, I can't stop obsessing over it or forget about it. So I write. Once the letters go out, I feel somewhat free of the obsession. It's like I need to get it all out of me and then I can move on--at least sort of. Anyway, I'm big on writing letters/notes/emails lately. You know you've crossed the line and gotten on my bad side if you get a letter from me.

I'm off to watch Nancy Grace.

Sideline experts

2008-12-11T16:33:00.000-08:00

Sideline experts can be found with their butts planted firmly in their chairs on the sidelines somewhere shouting advice and criticism like it's going out of style. The first time I had the "pleasure" of encountering this species, I was at a sporting event (can't remember which one at this point). Perfectly normal parents turn into people YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW when they are sitting on the sidelines. I used to sit among them and cringe or try to ignore their antics, but that proved to be of little help because sideline experts WANT TO BE HEARD. Anyway, the thing to remember about sideline experts is this: they never make a mistake or lose a game when they are sitting safely on the sidelines--they are incredibly perfect and knowledgeable while shouting their criticisms/advice out to those people ACTUALLY IN THE FIGHT DOING SOMETHING. It wasn't long before I found myself securing a spot away from the crowds when watching my children play sports. I did not care if I appeared aloof or antisocial or even snobbish because I felt any of those three descriptive terms would be preferable to being a SIDELINE EXPERT.

My husband has, on occasion, taken on the roll of a sideline expert, much to my chagrin. For as long as I have known him, on the day before Thanksgiving, he feels the need to tell me HOW TO CORRECTLY COOK A TURKEY SO THAT NONE OF US GET SICK AND DIE. It should be noted that no one has ever gotten sick from my cooking--EVER. It should also be noted that in the 26 years I've been married to him, he's NEVER COOKED A MEAL TO BE KNOWLEDGEABLE ENOUGH TO TELL ME HOW TO COOK A TURKEY. This annoys me to NO END. The first couple of times he did it, I let it pass without comment, but the last 7 years or so, I've told him to just shove it whenever he attempted giving me cooking tips on the turkey. I mean, he actually thinks I should take him seriously. It's completely insane. I told him to save that advice for himself the next time he buys a turkey and cooks it for us. Oh, and every night after we have Thanksgiving dinner he tells me that "next year we ought to just go out because it's just too much work for US!" Huh? Us? I mean, really. This is what I live with.

And now recently, I have taken on the task of painting the inside of our house. It's a big project, but there's something very calming about having a task ahead of me that takes patience. I like seeing the progress as I paint along--it makes me happy. My husband wanted to pay someone to do it but I'm confident I can paint walls with no problems. But all of the sudden, he's suddenly giving me painting tips--telling me what kind of roller I should be using, which way to paint the walls (up and down--not sideways!!), and that I need to use a drop cloth while I'm painting! Really? OMG. I never would have thought of using a drop cloth if he hadn't suggested it.

Anyway, the painting is coming along great despite my own personal sideline expert interfering at every turn.

This is what I want her to know

2008-12-05T19:46:00.000-08:00

I think there are people that you never get over. I think if you love someone, really love someone, you give away a piece of your heart forever. And even though it's hard to learn to live without someone that you love, there's always a part of you that knows you would not have it any other way--you would not ever choose not loving someone to spare yourself a potential loss. It's hard to know what to do with the love you will always have for those people who have left your life for one reason or another. It's hard to fill the spaces left behind. It's difficult not to paint people who disappoint you in a bad light because it's natural for that sort of defense mechanism to kick in when you feel betrayed or abandoned. I think that the people you choose to love tells you a lot about yourself. I think that mostly it tells you not to spend even one second doubting your choices if your heart feels at home when you are with them--that finite time with the people that you love is better than no time at all--that love doesn't die on a schedule determined by other people, especially if your love is pure. I think there is no secret to getting over people you have loved because there are some people that you simply never get over.

All good is NO GOOD

2008-12-03T20:51:00.001-08:00

I hate plumbers. It all started yesterday when I noticed a constant drip coming from the shower head in my bathroom. I let it go overnight and when I woke up it was dripping even faster so I decided to call a plumber (which I got from the yellow pages). I was told someone would be at my home between 2-4 PM, so I waited around all day and finally at 5:45 two clowns show up at my door and I let them in. Mind you, I had been up since 4:50 AM this morning and simply wanted to get the leak fixed. The clowns took a look at my shower and told me that it was a cartridge that needed to be replaced so they leave to purchase one at Home Depot. Before leaving, they told me they needed to check the water pressure and when they did, I was told that my water pressure valve needed to be replaced so I quickly asked how much that was going to cost and was told a little over $350. I told them I would pass on that since I didn't want to spend the money on something I didn't really KNOW needed to be replaced. I mean, I had a drip in my shower and suddenly I need a new water pressure valve on top of that? I do not trust people who create more work for themselves (at my expense).

Anyhow, the clowns were gone until about 6:25 PM. Before they left I was told it would cost me $295 which I thought was WAY overpriced but since I'm not a plumber, what could I do? When the clowns come back I asked them if this was the standard price for replacing the cartridge and was told yes. I said I did not want to be ripped off and felt that the price was too high. I then asked how much the cartridge was (since he just bought it) and he actually hesitated a couple of times and said $30 or $40 dollars. Ok. Why wouldn't he know EXACTLY what the price was if HE JUST PURCHASED IT??? So then I asked if the labor was $250 and he told me yes it was but he seemed really flustered and told me "around there" when I questioned him about this which sort of sent some red flags up flying for me. I wanted the damn leak fixed so I told him to just get moving and fix it.

About ten minutes into a job that probably should have taken a total of 10 minutes, the clowns are in my bathroom and they can't unscrew something to get the old cartridge out so they are BANGING really hard on the pipe, and pulling at the valve REALLY HARD. It was all kinds of crazy and I felt this unease that they were hacking up the job. It takes the two of them to finally loosen it to get the cartridge out to replace it. They told me it was stuck because of mineral buildup. Whatever. He replaces the cartridge then has the other clown go turn the water back on and when he does, there's a whole bunch of gushing water and he tells me to tell the clown outside to turn the water off. He then informs me that he has to CUT A HOLE IN MY BEDROOM TO SEE WHERE IT'S LEAKING INSIDE THE WALL. OMG. What can I do? The carpet is all wet now and I'm freaking out because I think I'm doing the responsible thing by hiring a plumber to fix something I know I couldn't fix myself and NOW MY CARPETS ARE SOAKED AND HE HAS TO CUT A HOLE IN MY WALL!!!!

So he cuts the hole and then tells me that I need a new water valve because when he banged so hard to get the cartridge out, he broke it. He claimed that it wasn't installed properly in the first place but I call bullshit on that. I heard what he did to get the cartridge out and I knew instinctively that he was screwing something up (and I'm not even a plumber). So he then tells me a new valve is going to cost me OVER $600 (he actually went out to his van to get me a binder of his with prices in it but I'm pretty certain that if I went to buy the valve at Home Depot it would be under $100!!!), but he called his boss and since it wasn't my fault it broke and it wasn't HIS fault it broke (because now he was using the "it wasn't installed properly in the first place" excuse) that his boss agreed to give me a "DEAL" for the price of $495!!! I nearly hit the roof but I knew that would just create another hole that would need to be fixed so I decided to sit on my bed instead. I asked him if he was going to repair the hole in my wall as well (9x11) and his response was, "NO, I'm a plumber not a drywaller!!! OMFG! Mind you, the valve was working properly until he and the his cohort banged and pulled and jostled it around and BROKE IT!!!

The clowns then leave AGAIN to get the new water valve at Home Depot. While they were gone, I called the company and started complaining about what was going on and was told someone would call me back. The two clowns return with the valve at around 7:30 PM. When I got a call back, I explained the situation and the guy asked to speak to the clowns so I gave them my phone and when the phone got passed back to me, I was told that no one was taking advantage of me but that I was getting a deal. I screamed at him that it was clear that he wasn't going to help me and I hung up on him. Immediately afterwards, one of the clown's phones rings and the phone gets passed to me and I again try to explain the ridiculousness of the situation and how now on top of everything else I have a fucking HOLE in my wall and wet carpet and that I have to pay nearly $500 for a water drip!!! He tells me that I ought to be grateful that the clowns were at my house fixing THE VALVE THEY BROKE IN THE FIRST PLACE, and didn't I think that THEY wanted to be home at 8:25 PM at night with their families?

Um...........WTFFFFFFFFFF? I told him that I had been waiting since 2 PM for them and I didn't CARE about the plumbers feelings or if they wanted to be home with their families because I WAS PAYING THEM FOR A SERVICE!!! I told that asshole I wanted his men to fix the valve and GET OUT OF MY HOUSE and he says, "wow, we're really trying to help you here, ma'am," and I tossed the phone back to one of the clowns. I handed him a check and told him to GET OUT of my house and that I wouldn't sign anything and he stood there and wouldn't leave so I signed the paper to GET HIM OUT OF MY HOUSE!!! It was around 8:30 PM at that point and I was home alone with my two daughters. I DID NOT want them in my house a moment longer what with all the manufactured problems that were taking place--I felt as though it was in my best interests to get them out of my house before SOMETHING ELSE WENT WRONG WHILE THEY WERE THERE. OMG. Now I have this hole in my wall that I will need to pay to get fixed and I have wet carpet. When I told my husband this story (he's out of town) he freaked out and told me I should have waited to let HIM fix it even though the last time I fixed the toilets that were broken he kept telling me that I should call a plumber! This is a man who can't put together Lincoln logs so WHATEVER!!!

I'm really pissed off. I hate all service people. I think they rip everyone off and don't care one bit. If I could have fixed that thing myself I would have and that's what makes me even angrier. Maybe I should take some plumbing courses and learn to rip people off while I laugh all the way to the bank.

I'm off to take a shower with my new $495 water valve job. Merry Christmas to me.

PS. Those two clowns REEKED of cigarette smoke and made my house stink so bad I had to open all the windows and spray Febreeze all around and I CAN STILL SMELL THEM!! Disgusting!

Thanksgiving

2008-11-26T17:43:00.000-08:00

"Let us remember that, as much has been given us, much will be expected from us, and that true homage comes from the heart as well as from the lips, and shows itself in deeds." ~Theodore Roosevelt

I go to bed at night, thanking my lucky stars for all that I've been given, and I wake up thanking my lucky stars again that I get to live another day with the people that I love.

Y'all, I am blessed!

Happy Thanksgiving to all who come here.

I count you among my blessings.

Hindsight

2008-11-24T20:06:00.000-08:00

"This is a special container for keeping lies that you tell yourself & it doesn't let in any light or air otherwise they start to go bad & there's nothing else you can do but throw them out."~Story people

This is what I wish I knew all along---that it is ok to be wrong, that it is ok to make horrible mistakes and recover from them in time, that what you do is not who you are or who you always have to be, that people understand and forgive, that we're all just trying to do our best, that it makes life easier when we hear other people say that they do not have all the answers because it's not our place to know everything. I wish I knew all along that failing at things repeatedly didn't mean success couldn't be reached at some point if you're willing to work harder than you think you can or maybe even want to, that facing the truth about who we are is essential, even if the truth is ugly. I wish I knew that defining yourself as a victim becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy that gets you nowhere fast, that it is smarter and more rewarding to own your actions and words, that there's hope in every smile, every kindness, every decision to remain in the moment no matter how difficult those moments might be. I wish I knew the futility of chasing love and happiness, that a resilient heart can be counted on to beat you back from loss and sadness, that the secret to having it all sometimes means letting things go, and that living well comes as a direct result of living well.

Motion

2008-11-16T19:54:00.000-08:00

I think when I'm troubled, that's it's good to keep moving. It doesn't matter much what I do as long as I do something to fill the time so that there isn't much time to brood or feel angry or sad. I allow myself small spaces of time to think about the things that are bothering me, and then I shut the door on reflection and start moving. It's important that I never get stuck, and so I never stay long enough in one place, I never sink in too deep. I just keep moving, and in moving I think I help save myself from myself.

Ice cream lifts a heavy heart

2008-11-07T20:45:00.000-08:00

"I promise you not a moment will be lost as long as I have heart & voice to speak & we will walk again together with a thousand others & a thousand more & on & on until there is no one among us who does not know the truth: there is no future without love." Storypeople

So my heart has been a little heavy lately with all this election business. I cracked open a beer the night of the election. I cannot remember the last time I've had alcohol. I couldn't take watching it anymore so I caught up on some shows I had taped. When I finally switched back to election coverage, McCain had conceded. That's when my heart grew heavy. All that talk about hope and I couldn't find it anywhere.

The next day I was still feeling bad, and so I decided that maybe a Dairy Queen vanilla cone dipped in chocolate would aid in the mourning process. It did. I highly recommend Dairy Queen when you're feeling down. The sugar high lifted me up. I remembered that hope isn't something I should seek outside of myself--and the same goes for change. I can't control the world around me, but I can control how I react and how I go about living in the wake of disappointment. My father always told me that life is filled with disappointments and the sooner you get used to it, the better off you'll be. I've always found this to be something that is easier said than done.

Lately I've been struggling with intolerance for people who voted for Obama. I know I risk pissing people off but if I click onto one more blog that mentions HOPE with regards to Obama, I feel I might explode. I'm not really the intolerant type so I don't know what's come over me. I think if I could read some specifics as to why he is such a game changer (for the positive) I might feel less angry. I'm getting worked up all over again. I think it's time for another DQ run...

That mum up above? A couple of years ago I bought a tiny mum at Walmart and planted it in the ground and every year it comes back bigger and bigger. It's the highlight of my fall, watching that mum come back to life and bloom so beautifully. I feel so proud of it even though I don't do a thing to help it grow except watch it, anticipating it's loveliness.

My sister sent me a card last week, and when I opened it up a photo tumbled out. It was a picture of her and me when we were 6 and 8 years old. We wore matching coats. Our hair was cut very short and on top of our heads we had big bows. We looked so innocent and precious and even though I do not remember standing beside her the day that picture was taken, I know without question that we were happy.

In a nutshell

2008-10-27T20:15:00.000-07:00

"Don't speak unless you can improve on the silence." ~Spanish Proverb

I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. I wasn't always so quick to speak my mind. I grew up in a household where we were told that children should be seen and not heard and I took that to heart. It became how I lived my life--listening quietly and never daring to disagree. I think that is why I'm so insistent about saying the things I feel now. Thoughts and words were unspoken inside me, and it felt like I was living in a trap, like I was suffocating without anything or anyone blocking my airways. Now I can't seem to stop myself. Words fly out of my mouth like water gushing from a fire hydrant, and I honestly don't care at the time if I'm being hurtful because I think it's so important that I've finally found my voice in this world and I'll be damned if anyone tries to shut me up. Nice attitude, huh?

I like to think I'm a good mother and most days, I think that's entirely true. But I've found I'm the type of mother who wants things to go smoothly so that I don't have to deal with problems. I like routines to be followed and I do not welcome disruptions of those routines. Ridiculously, all I want to hear is good news. I know that wish isn't planted anywhere in reality but still, I wish for it anyway.

I never know if my expectations of others are too high or not. I don't even know if it's fair to expect things from other people or if I should simply take what's given to me and accept it for what it is without question. I do not think it's fair of me to expect other people to live their lives with my expectations looming overhead, potentially influencing what it is they want for themselves.

Intellectually, I know that I am wrong for having those thoughts, but my heart doesn't know how to stop. I look at the people that I love and I want things from them, but I get mad if they want too much from me. It makes no sense, but in a nutshell, I think that sums up a lot of who I am--a person who spends inordinate amounts of time contradicting every single thing I say and do.

On Sunday...

2008-10-26T16:31:00.000-07:00

I took my chair and faced the sun to watch my daughter play tennis this afternoon and now I am sitting here with the lovliest late October sunburn you've ever seen. I love where I live. I can explain it best this way--My heart beats happier here.

I've been doing lots of contemplating here lately--mostly internal stuff--like what I want from life besides what I have right here at my fingertips. I think it's middle age creeping up on me and whispering in my ear and suggesting that I need to be doing something more. The problem with me is this: I always know more about what I do not want than about what it is that I want. I keep thinking that a plan will become clear if I sit still and listen, but so far--nothing. I will be patient. I am good at waiting.

The election is consuming lots of my time. I have made it a point to try to educate myself on both candidates because I want to know everything. I have kept an open mind and have read everything I can on both of them. I worry so much about the future. Not so much for me but for the world my children will live in without me. We're fortunate in that we've made wise financial decisions (we've saved and scrimped and have lived a life with our eyes to the future), but so many people are hurting. But where do we draw a line in the sand and say--I will do my best to care for my family but I cannot take on the rest of the world as well.

I cannot condone a "spread the wealth" mentality, when the road for us to get here has been difficult and not without lots of sacrifice. I think it's easy to sit back and think we have more than enough but no one knows how we got here--what we have given up to get here--the things we did not have or did not do because we didn't have the money at the time. I hate to think that the government might step in and say--you have more than enough, so SPREAD it around. Huh? It makes me angry and sad. We outright own our home...as in paid cash for it...as in no mortgage. I don't know anyone else my age who can say that. But we got here by starting off small and by sacrificing and with lots of hard work. No one ever bailed us out. We lived within our means while dreaming of something more.

My personal opinion is that education needs to be made a priority again in all our lives. I think education is the way out of poverty but it must be taken seriously to have any real impact. Parents have to get involved again on a very HANDS ON LEVEL--like checking homework and backpacks and knowing what is going on. My daughter took the SAT's a couple of weeks ago and when she was finished, she got into the car and told me that she felt sorry for a lot of the kids who took the SAT that morning because she could tell that a lot of them did not have parents who cared for them. I asked her why and she said that MANY kids were unprepared--they did not bring their identification or their admittance ticket and most did not know that they could bring a calculator, not to mention most did not bring No. 2 pencils. These requirements were written on the ticket.

As a mother, I knew this and made sure my daughter went prepared. I consider it MY JOB to help my children succeed and I do this by knowing what is going on as much as possible. How can a parent allow their child to go to take the SAT's without pencils or a calculator? It's mindboggling to me. We must do a better job of telling our children that a good education is the way out and the way up. I know that education is not the key to success for everyone, but it makes the road easier--it gives you options and opportunities that a high school drop out will never have.

My parents always told me that God helps those who help themselves. I believe that. We shouldn't be waiting for someone to swoop in and save us. We need to save ourselves.

Letters

2008-10-20T19:59:00.000-07:00

"Letter writing is the only device for combining solitude with good company." ~Lord Byron

I've started writing letters to my children outlining what it is I expect from them. After using the spoken word for years with varying degrees of success, I've decided that if I put into writing what it is that I want from them and for them, then they will have something tangible to reflect back on should they need a reminder. Words tend to go in one ear and out the other. I'm hoping my letters will have a bigger impact. I know I do better when I have something concrete like directions to follow. Also, no one can claim afterwards that something hasn't been talked about if I have it in writing to prove otherwise. I think part of me is just tired of talking and talking and getting nowhere. I am hopeful that this will make a difference.

The weather has cooled down a bit and I put the screens back in our front windows so that I can create a cross breeze on wonderfully refreshing days. Not a week after I put those screens in did I receive a letter from our Homeowners about how we were breaking the covenants with our front-of-the-house-screens. Sigh. I really don't ask much from life. It's such a small thing to find happiness in having your windows open on a beautiful day but the screen police cannot have anyone be happy. I'll wait till they send me a registered letter again before I take them out because this is America and I want to open my windows when I want to open my windows. Hopefully it will be much colder by then and it won't matter. More and more I am thinking that a nice house in the mountains away from everyone might be the way to go.

So hum hallelujah, just off the key of reason

2008-10-11T18:36:00.000-07:00

I had a happy evening out shopping with my daughter. We ran some errands at Walmart, Target, Old Navy and we also went to Blockbuster. I've been renting season one of Mad Men but have only been able to get the first disc so far because the other three continue to be out. I'm kind of bummed because they were all there last week and I figured I'd be able to get them any time but I've checked back three times now and they're always out! I would have bought the set somewhere if I had known it was going to be so hard to get. I'm anxious to get through season one because I can see season two on demand and catch up as soon as I'm finished with the first one. I guess I have to be patient at this point.

It was a beautiful day here today. I've got all the windows open and I have a fan blowing the cool air in and it feels so good. The other night I was at the airport waiting for my husband to get home from a flight that was delayed a number of times due to the weather and I noticed how I was about the only one sitting there in shorts and a t-shirt...how when people were coming off their planes, most of them had coats on and scarves and I had to remind myself that it's October now and probably pretty chilly in a lot of places even though most days are still very warm here. I don't like the cold much anymore now that I live in the south. I would just rather be hot than cold for some reason. I'm not sure why.

I've been writing here for over a year now and I'm happy I've been able to be consistent and not run away like I sometimes feel like doing. When I feel like things are getting too familiar, my first thought is to run away and start over somewhere else. It's hard for me to explain because it's so contradictory, but while I love getting to know others through reading their blogs, I don't really want other people to feel they know me because I don't think that my blog is a good representation of who I am. Everything that I write here is true, but it's just little bits of me and I know that I do not do a good job of showing the lighter side of me. When I write things that seem like downers, the following day I am tempted to delete my blog because I don't want the people that read here to think I'm a negative person. I don't even know why I care, but I do. It feels important to me that people know I am more than the words that I write here.

I have a sporting event to attend tomorrow and let me just say that I am going into this event already feeling like I will not be able to control myself amongst the parents. Earlier in the week the other team made a big to-do over NEEDING to play a match early. I swear I fielded over 10 phone calls trying to appease these people and when we finally agreed to a date and time (their choosing) about an hour before the girls were to play they called to say one of their girls was sick and that they couldn't play after all! OMG. Seriously, WTF, WTF, WTF? One of my biggest pet peeves is people who ask you to do a favor for them and then end up putting you out further with crap like this. This team has big time entitlement issues and HELLO, it's time someone tells them that our time is as important as theirs and I think I'm just the one to do it. I've said before that I'm nice until I get pushed too far, and then the nice me EXITS the building and the bitch takes over.

Ok...I'm off to do some reading.

Happy Saturday.

We'll love you just the way you are, if you're perfect

2008-10-06T20:15:00.001-07:00

I keep thinking that I will wake up one day and know everything I need to know about life. I keep thinking if I get the answers that I'm searching for, I will officially be grown up and I can finally stop looking around corners and wishing on stars and questioning everything. When things are confusing for me, I want explanations that comfort me. When the explanations are at best unsatisfactory, I want to throw them back and ask for something more to my liking.

I have a very disconnected relationship with my family. We can go months without speaking to one another and then I'll crack because a voice in my head will tell me that the normal thing to do is call or email them because that's how I think it's done with most people. I see my husband calling his parents every week and there's a part of me that thinks it's foreign to want to talk to your parents that much. I never begrudge him those phone calls, but I do listen closely to his end of the conversation to get an idea of how it's done because that sort of easiness does not come naturally to me and I learn by watching and listening. Still, when I talk to anyone in my family, I need to shut myself off somewhere so that no one hears me. I have this forced friendliness with them that I don't want anyone to witness because I really hate phoneys and I feel like I'm being one.

I wonder a lot about unconditional love. I think it's a great idea, but I question how many of us truly love unconditionally or if we love hoping that we get something in return for our love. I think secretly we love hoping to get some of that love back. I think the hardest lesson I keep learning is that you cannot make people love you in the way you might need them to love you and so you settle for what they're willing to give because having a little of what you need seems better than having nothing at all.

When I first married my husband, my parents did something very hurtful to both of us. A couple of years ago (the last time we visited them), I guess my father took my husband aside and apologized for their behavior. My husband did not tell me this until just recently and my first reaction was..."Why didn't he apologize to ME???" but I know the answer to that already. It's because we cannot be real with one another. I am still indignant over this mostly because I carry around the way they've hurt me everywhere and it would be nice if I could hear those words so that I can chuck that sack of sorry's and be done with them for good. I am not ashamed to tell you that the messages they sometimes send me, sometimes break my heart.

There has never been a moment when I've doubted their love for me but love is a complicated thing. I've always feared that I would end up being like them, and there are times when I am certain I have. I catch myself saying things I know they've said to me and I catch myself wanting the love I give out to come back to me which means I am not giving it freely with no strings attached. I love with expectations and conditions and a scorecard that measures if I'm getting back what I put in.

I think I will always love imperfectly.

I think I will never know all there is to know about life.

I need your grace to remind me to find my own

2008-09-20T20:25:00.000-07:00

"To understand any living thing, you must, so to say, creep within and feel the beating of its heart." ~W. Macneile Dixon

It was fabulously gorgeous here today and I thought how much I wish everyone could step outside and have the bluest skies and temperature in the 70's and a gentle breeze every now and then to make them feel alive and happy like I felt today.

I spent the afternoon watching my daughter play tennis and it was wonderful mostly because she won which is always a plus because winning is everything to her. I have spent a lot of time in the past really encouraging and almost pushing this sport onto her because she is very talented and could go very far if she put her mind to it, but it got to the point where I could tell she was resenting me for wanting this for her. It's so hard for me because I didn't have parents who encouraged me and so I feel like it's important to always be in my children's corner cheering them on and guiding them where I think I see their strengths lie. Then after a tournament where she lost in a third set tiebreaker she got into the car and started screaming that the only reason she played was because of me and that sort of broke my heart because I don't want to be the person who makes her daughter feel pressured to play when she doesn't want to. I really dislike mothers like that and OMG I think I was one!

I had to take a good long look at myself and decided that perhaps maybe I was wanting and pushing this on her against her wishes. I told her I would never again make any decisions without asking her first and I've kept that promise. I've let her decide when and if she wants to play, and surprisingly, what I've found is that she started to love the sport again once she felt the pressure was off her from my end. I will not tell you that this wasn't difficult for me because I know she could be a very successful professional player if she wanted to. I know this because I've been told this by the professionals who taught her. It's so hard to feel like her talent is being wasted but if it isn't her dream or passion, then it's not really fair of me to try and force it to become hers. I don't think things end well when we do that to each other anyway. It's her life, not mine and I had to find a way to find peace with that. I think after a number of years, I'm at that point. I sit and watch her play now and don't ask anything of her except that she have fun. And when she wins, she has fun...

We went out to dinner tonight and the service was really slow but the manager came to us and gave us dessert on the house. I swear that the hot fudge sundae on top of a brownie is sitting in the bottom of my stomach like a lead balloon right now. Luckily I've got a stash of Rolaids to help ease the pain.

Inexplicably, my husband has taken the entire next week off for a vacation. His impromptu vacation will be spent at home. Joy. He has created a list of things to do about a mile long which is certainly not going over real well with me because I know how I always get roped into assisting him and how I curiously end up doing most of the work. I mean, he held up his list and was all excited as he recited it to me and I'm sorry but to do lists don't do anything for me. He seriously thinks cleaning is a fun way to spend time together. I am feeling that next week might be a heavy blogging week for me as a result of this vacation.

6:28 PM

2008-09-16T10:25:00.000-07:00

I think the days I am happiest are the days that are filled almost to bursting. And it's on these days that are filled almost to bursting that I remember why. It's because I live in the moment every moment. I stop living inside my head. I do not regret the past. I do not worry about the future. I stop chasing peace and peace finds me.

I drove by a man mowing his lawn today. I had my windows cracked just a little. The smell was heavenly and I know this is a silly thing to write about, but I want to be able to come back and read this some day and remember how much I love that smell. Next to the smell of Windex, it might be my all time favorite.

I love all 30 days in September, but I love September 16th the best because it's my son's birthday. I am incredibly lucky to have him. I wish him the all that's good in this world.

I hope they're following their bliss (or, red shoes make me happy, too)

2008-09-14T14:11:00.000-07:00

I'll never understand why it seems so hard for people to be happy for you when good things happen in your life. I used to live next door to a woman who would drop everything in her own life if you were having a rough time. She'd cook you dinners and listen endlessly while you cried on her shoulder. But the second something good happened that you wanted to share, she backed off being your friend in search of a new needy person to aid. It was like she grew taller and brighter when your life was in ruins and I think it was because she was secretly happy that whatever was happening to you wasn't happening to her. It almost felt as if she wanted to be a witness to your pain rather than help alleviate it. Like, she did all that cooking and listening because there was the payoff of having a front row seat to watch the devastation up close and personal. I like to call people like this misery magnets. I don't like people like this because there's a real lack of sincerity going on under the guise of compassion. I mean, if you can't be happy for me when I'm happy, I would basically rather not know you.

I wonder what holds a lot of us back from being happy for one another when good things happen. Why can't a simple joy be shared without vultures waiting on the sidelines to rip us to shreds for the crime of finding a little happiness? I read these posts today and I was struck again how mean-spirited and petty people can be. The blogger posted a couple of pictures of items she had purchased and along came a killjoy to question if she really ought to be purchasing red shoes when she was just recently lamenting over financial difficulties in her life. I don't get it. How do the red shoes take away from any of us out here reading about them? If red shoes gave the blogger a reason to smile then who are we to steal that away from her?

We've all got sad tales to tell. I know I've got at least a million of them. We seem to cling to them like they're life rafts instead of recognizing them as anchors that are pulling us under. We like following trainwrecks, and scoff at people who present their lives in a positive light. I'm guilty of this sometimes. I don't mind people who have wonderful lives who write about them, but I will say that I have read blogs where the blogger will present a life of peaches and cream then one day snap and confess that it's all been a cover for all sorts of dysfunction going on. WTF? I don't like that crap. At least be real. Have a good day then a bad day like the rest of us, and don't concoct fairytales to tell just because it might sound better than my bitching about spit on the mirrors from people sloppily brushing their teeth.

I don't mind admitting that I'm all over the place most of the time. But I am able to be happy for other people when I see that they are happy. It shouldn't be that difficult to share in the little joys that help give us hope that things will get better--the joys that lighten our hearts momentarily. I just wish we could all be happy for one another when good things happen instead of thinking someone else's joy means there might be less for us somehow, or that someone isn't deserving of happiness just because we say so.

Stupid questions

2008-09-09T11:03:00.001-07:00

I was standing at the deli/bakery waiting for someone to wait on me. There were three women behind the deli counter all working together on something at a table a little off to the left (I think they were making cookies or something). So I'm standing there and about 30 seconds pass. These ladies don't acknowledge that I am alive until one of them looks in my directions and says, "Are you waiting to be helped?" Huh? No, I'm standing there hoping to be discovered as America's next top model.

A grateful heart

2008-09-05T19:12:00.000-07:00

"Thou hast given so much to me,
Give one thing more, - a grateful heart;
Not thankful when it pleaseth me,
As if Thy blessings had spare days,
But such a heart whose pulse may be Thy praise."~George Herbert

I woke up and I lived another day, and everyone that I love lived right along with me in good health and happiness & sometimes I forget how wonderful that is, how lucky we all are, just to be here.

I am trying to start my days reminding myself to appreciate all the small things that sometimes feel so small that I end up wanting more because I think having more will lead to a happiness I feel I might be missing out on. I think if I can remind myself often enough, it will become a habit. I will wake up and I will live and I will think to myself, this is enough. I am positive that repetition is the key to pulling this off.

Something else I am trying to do is actively look for the good in people rather than jump to my own biased conclusions based on nothing but assumptions. I want to learn to look past the surface to see what's real because that's what I expect from others for myself. I don't know when I became the sort of person who sometimes lacks compassion for people I don't understand, but somewhere along the way, that's what I've become. I'm impatient and dismissive and I want to change that about myself.

I found this bag of photographs in my closet today stuffed behind one of those plastic tote containers. If there is one thing I did right while my children were growing up, it was take a lot of pictures of them. I haven't gotten around to putting them all in albums but there's a part of me that thinks that will be a great little pastime when I am old and am looking for something to lift my spirits and help me remember. Every picture tells a story and brings me back. There is no way my mind could ever remember it all and I'm so glad I took hundreds of photographs to help give my past back to me. I wish I felt safe enough here to share that part of my life with you but I don't (with pictures). Maybe I'll post a picture of myself some day if I get brave enough. I am scared to involve my children in something they haven't agreed to participate in, but you should know how hugely I am blessed.

My husband has been home most of the week and whenever that happens, I notice how unstructured my life becomes. Every single plan I have flies out the window in favor of goofing off with him and he encourages this because he's bad like that. I totally did not make my bed today, I ate Chinese food for lunch and insisted we stop at Dairy Queen on the way home under the guise of needing to use the restroom when in fact I just wanted one of those vanilla ice cream cones dipped in chocolate.

Life is good

2008-09-03T16:27:00.000-07:00

I had to get a new cell phone today because last night I was at Walmart and my phone dropped out of my bag and when I went to use it, the screen was blank. What a horror. I've only dropped it about 5 times total in almost 2 years, but maybe this was a really hard drop because I couldn't call out after that, I could only receive calls. No text messaging either and I've come to sort of like texting now that I got the hang of it. I still don't get the big deal about it because I know that kids are basically lazy and texting takes more time and effort than actually making a call, but for some reason, texting is what all the kids do now so I've had to get with the program. Anyhow, I got a new phone and it's really nice and I'm happy about that because I'm addicted to my cell phone like some people are addicted to drugs. I sort of panic when it's not in my line of vision.

Other than that, not much going on here. I've been overdosing on oatmeal raisin cookies and watching the US OPEN. Life is good.

40 kinds of sadness

2008-08-27T13:11:00.000-07:00

"WHEREVER YOU GO, GO WITH ALL YOUR HEART."~Confucious

I start feeling sad about a week and a half before my son leaves for college out of state so when the time comes to say goodbye, I'm mostly ok. I count the days down in my head and they always go by too quickly. Even though I do lots of complaining about having all the kids home and in my hair, and on my nerves, there's something comforting in knowing that everyone is under this one roof--that I know where to find everyone at any given time. When he leaves, it's like a little of the color drains from my life and I'm always looking to fill it back up but that's impossible without him here, and so my world is a little less colorful.

I waste lots of time wishing that I could find something great to do with my life when I know the greatest thing I'll ever do is be a mother to my children. It's easy to forget the importance of that work when you are knee deep in the drudgery of life. Motherhood sometimes feels like it is less valued because there is no measure of success for all the million ways it takes to raise a human being. The job is round the clock giving and loving to the best of your ability. The payoff is proudly watching a life move away from you while you try not to scream come back.

So much of why I am good is a result of having my children. I think without them, I'd be this chaotic, directionless mess, which is not something I want to admit because I like to project the illusion that I'm as together as the next guy who is projecting illusions of togetherness. But really? It's their lives in my life that make me whole, that help me to be good.

I hate goodbyes but I go along with them because there's not anything I can do to stop everyone from getting on with their lives. I can't insist that everyone stay with me forever so that I can complain that they're not leaving fast enough, which is what I end up doing. I contradict myself a hundred times a day without even trying.

It's the waiting for him to leave that gets me the most. I tear up everywhere--in the laundry room, walking around in Kroger's, driving in my car. It's like I'm trying to squeeze all the sadness out before he goes and remarkably, this routine works for me. When crunch time comes, I am always reluctantly ready.

I like thinking that a part of me goes wherever my children go so that we don't ever feel alone. He leaves tomorrow. Already I cannot wait for him to come back.

Hey, I gotta run...

2008-08-21T16:48:00.000-07:00

So. I'm starting to get a little perturbed with friends who call here and talk my ear off then want to beat a quick exit if I talk about myself for a moment. Ditto for the friends who call then while they are in the middle of talking to me, indicate they are getting another phone call they need to take and say, "I don't mean to cut you off but I really need to take this call," then basically cut me off and end the call.

This is why I don't like telephones--the rude factor creeps in almost all the time. There's never any reciprocation and part of the reason there's no reciprocation is that I do not grab my phone every time I want to vent. Talking to other people never helps me get through things--ever. I work things out in my head on my own or I write them out here but I do not force anyone to come here to read or give me feedback because that's not how I do things. I do not think other people hold the answers I need to get through this life. I think I hold the answers--I mean, I KNOW I hold the answers, although I do not know if I will ever be smart enough to find them within me. I keep trying, though, because I am stubborn and determined.

But I get tired of being the shoulder to cry on, the chipper cheerleader who searches her brain for positive things to say only to be cut off in the middle of doing what I know they are calling me to do for them in the first place. It feels like a slap in the face or a punch in the gut. It feels like a door being slammed in my face.

If I ruled the world, I would make a rule that if you call me, you do not get to end the call (unless there's an emergency)--that the end of the call should be left up to me especially if you interrupt my day, and I take the time to listen to you.

My slice of life quotes - Time travel

2008-08-19T20:16:00.000-07:00

She said, "If you could be young again, I think we'd be the best of friends because I'd make you laugh," and I told her she was right because I've often thought the same thing myself but that I'd be the one making HER laugh because everyone knows between the two of us that I'm the funny one~~and in that moment I thought that life could not be more complete or perfect or fulfilling.

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end ~Seneca

2008-08-14T14:29:00.000-07:00

"We are shaped and fashioned by what we love." — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

After having a migraine for about 24 hours, I'm finally feeling better. It's hard to explain how it feels--it's like I go from feeling as though a board of daggers is being driven relentlessly into my skull, to this clearheaded nothingness and I'm so happy not to be in pain anymore. I start mopping floors, I'm dusting like a crazy person, I'm moving around and I'm so happy to be free of the daggers. I try not to think too hard about being happy it's over because I'm afraid the strain on my brain will bring on another migraine. LMAO.

So I've been absent and quiet but I've continued reading all my favorites. Sometimes I just think it's better to step away from always being negative which I feel I've been lately. I can seriously come up with at least one rant a day without even trying (like today I tried to order pizza from my favorite place and the phone rang and rang but no one picked up. I immediately called back and got a busy signal. For the next 15 minutes, the line was busy so I thought perhaps it wasn't open for some reason. I was out and about and went by the place and saw the big neon sign flashing OPEN, so I got out of my car, went in and went up to the counter and placed my order. I told the woman taking my order that I tried calling my order in but that the line was constantly busy. At that very moment, I happened to look down at her phone and guess what? The phone was off the hook! She quickly said to me (as she HUNG up the phone) that she had been having a conversation with someone, but that was a bunch of bull because when I walked in, she wasn't ON the phone, she was sitting there watching ONE LIFE TO LIVE! I know!!!), but I think that gets old for everyone, including me.

My youngest went back to school this week and so it's been quiet here during the day. I didn't get my usual sadness with the beginning of another school year because I've learned that endings aren't always bad and don't always mean THE END. I know my daughter is going to do great things with her life and so I'm just going to enjoy watching the show. She really is the biggest character I've ever encountered in my entire life. I wish you could know her.

My husband and I took the 5 hour trek up to where my son's car had broken down on his way home for the summer because it was finally repaired and brought it home. It's amazing how having that one extra car has alleviated a lot of stress in the household. It only took most of the summer, but I've already forgotten that in my joy at finally having it back.

I do have moments away from this blog when I think that I will never come back to writing here but something always brings me back. What brought me back today was reading a blog elsewhere and getting to the end of the post and being touched by the power of words, and remembering that's what I love best about writing--that feeling of being moved by someone else and coming back here to try to do that myself.

I don't blame you for being you, but you can't blame me for hating it

2008-08-03T20:29:00.000-07:00

"I suppose that since most of our hurts come through relationships so will our healing, and I know that grace rarely makes sense for those looking in from the outside."~William R. Young, The Shack

I was feeling disappointed by my children today and so I did what I do when I'm feeling down and went to Borders to get some new books. I told myself that if I can't feel peace in my real life, then the next best thing would be to get some books so that I had a place to escape. There are times I want to scream and never stop screaming, but instead, I try to talk myself out of it by telling myself that this must be what life has in store for me. I find comfort telling myself this because it feels less like a punishment and more like a life lesson that I'm meant to learn. I know that I'm more fortunate than most, but that doesn't stop me from having moments when I just feel trapped down a deep, dark hole while the world goes on all around me. I'm on the bottom waving like crazy and still, no one sees me.

My son has been home from college since mid May. He had a job in the state where he attends college and I wanted him to stay there this summer to continue to earn as much money as possible to help pay for his tuition, etc. He stayed in an apartment this past year and the lease was not up until this August so I knew we would have to pay for an apartment he would not be living in and I felt the best thing was for him to just stay there and work and maybe come visit for a couple of weeks.

Well, he wanted to come home for the summer and I do not blame him one bit for that, however, when you are attending a college out of state the cost is astronomical and I felt that he needed to contribute as much help as possible. But my husband told him he could come home as long as he got a job. So even though I knew I was right and knew he should have stayed up there where he HAD a job already, he came home. Don't you think I want to quit my life for a few months and get away every now and then? Because I do. But reality asks that I stay here and not walk away from my responsibilities just because I'm sick of the scenery, so I stay.

He went back to the little job he's had for the past several years where they do not give him many hours. It was discussed and agreed upon that he would find another job to supplement the little one but that never happened. A big show of going around and filling out applications (after I had a little blowup where I told him to go out and not come back until he had another job) was made with NO second job ever materializing. I've tried to be patient but I've run out of patience. I was talking to him today about it AGAIN and he tells me that the little job he has suits him just fine because he's been able to continue working out and refining his hockey skills! He then told me that he's not worried about not having enough money and that I needed to stop "whining" to him about it. This is the reply of a person who knows he can call his father at the drop of the hat and tell him that he's out of money and know that I will then be asked to deposit money into his account. Against my will, I'm his personal money tree.

Sigh. Here's my big problem. Whenever I take this discussion up with my husband, he will initially agree with me that our son is not really holding up his side of the bargain, but then he will slip into the conversation that at least our son is playing hockey better than he ever has before. Well, I'm sorry but this doesn't impress me. I mean, if he was going to become a professional, that would be one thing, but chances are slim to none that will happen. Also, he's decided his major is going to be Geography. Huh? WTF can you do with a major like that? So we're spending enormous amounts of money for him to basically skate and get a useless diploma. I cannot tell you how much this bothers me, how totally ridiculous I think this whole thing is. But I cannot say this to anyone here because when I do, I get told that I'm trying to begrudge him this opportunity, or that I'm not being "supportive." Neither is true but try telling that to them.

And the best part? He really wants to be a cop or a fireman so after all this he will then have to go and get training for either one of those professions so that's MORE time he'll be dependent on us for everything. My husband doesn't seem to think this is a problem but I think it's a HUGE problem. I have no one to talk to about it because apparently my job is to just go along. But I feel resentful and the feeling doesn't go away.

Moving along. Our oldest daughter moved home to focus on finally finishing up college. She's been going to college off and on for SIX YEARS. Her major changes with the wind. She's been to three different colleges, and I think that part of the time she was living away from home, she was NOT attending college but lied about it. I finally told her that I did not care what happened in the past but that I needed to see grades and transcripts from the time she WAS in school so that she can sort her life out and get moving in the right direction. She has been claiming for the past year that she wants to be an x-ray technician but then we were speaking to her the other day and my husband asked about it and she goes, "well, I don't know if I really want to do that anymore." WTF? I know it's difficult to know what to do with your life, but PLEASE give me a break and make some sort of decision THIS DECADE. She's incredibly smart. She can speak 3 different languages fluently but doesn't stick with anything long enough to get anywhere. So my husband tells her that he will pay for HER tuition in the fall as long as we have proof that she is going full time. HUH? I nearly flipped my lid on that one because SHE'S BEEN GOING TO SCHOOL FOR 6 YEARS AND I DON'T THINK WE SHOULD BE REWARDING HER FOR BEING A FLAKE/LIAR.

Then I hear him tell her he'd pay for her to get a personal trainer. Um....WTFFFFFFFFFF? When I heard THAT, I had to bust into that conversation and tell him that I did not think so---that all summer long I've been wanting to join a gym because I'm getting tired of running out in the heat every day but that I didn't even bring up the subject because we don't have an extra car for me to use at my disposal. There is no fucking way that I am going to allow him to pay for a personal trainer for her while I sit home vacuuming and baking cookies and doing laundry a million times a day to keep towels in the linen closet. Not when she's 24 1/2 years old and has been working full time all summer. But this is the sort of insanity that I deal with here. I keep looking around thinking it might be some sort of joke, but it's not. If common sense came up and smacked my family members in the face, I swear to you that none of them would know what hit them.

In another year, my youngest will be in college and I will then have THREE children in college, two of which should be graduated by now but who are instead taking their own sweet time living in a fantasy land with the full support of their father. I'm the mean mom who wants my children to get off their asses and grow up. I'm the the whiner, the nagger. I used to fear them all leaving me but that fear has now been replaced by the fear that they will NEVER leave. I can only mention this to my husband every once in a while because he loves having everyone around. He looks at me with an appalled expression as if it's unnatural for a mother NOT to want to wait on their kids 24/7 for the rest of their lives. He seems to forget I've been doing this since I was 23 and am TIRED of it. I have to remind him, and I'm sick of him never thinking of me first, of never asking me what I might want for myself other than this. I know that his greatest desire is for me to quietly just go along with whatever decisions get made and not question anything. My childhood was spent doing that and then I unknowingly picked a life that continued the pattern. Congratulations for being consistent, your prize is masking tape that can be used to seal your mouth shut so you're not tempted to voice a contrary opinion.

So I get in the car and I drive to Borders. I pick out books because I don't drink or do drugs and I need a place to escape to when I feel I'm going crazy. I give myself pep talks, too. I tell myself that there are reasons for life unfolding the way it is and that I've got to hang in there. I tell myself I'm needed here and that's it's wonderful to feel needed, and who wouldn't want to be needed and loved the way I am. But it's this constant battle to be positive when nothing is how I want it to be. I take each day and tell myself I can do anything for a day. In the back of my mind I am unwaveringly hopeful that there is a plan for me other than this "going along" life.

I'm pretty much counting on it.

and the world spins madly on

2008-07-29T20:29:00.000-07:00

"And even if you were in some prison, the walls of which let none of the sounds of the world come to your senses - would you not then still have your childhood, that precious, kingly possession, that treasure-house of memories?" ~Rainer Maria Rilke

We're going through our garage and trying to do some more organizing and throwing away. Going through the boxes we have stored there, it becomes apparent that I don't like to throw things away. There are so many things I've saved that I forgot I even had. In one of the boxes, I found my high school year book and we've all had a good laugh over my pictures in there. It feels like yesterday. It feels a million years away.

I also found a time capsule that I did with my youngest daughter. It says do not open until 2010. On the outside of the capsule I have written in red permanent marker, "TO BE ALIVE IN SUCH AN AGE ." I'm dying to open it, but it isn't 2010 yet. In the blink of an eye (because that is how time flies here), I know we will be opening it, and that is what keeps me from sneaking a peek now.

I got nosey yesterday evening and googled my oldest brother's name. I haven't spoken to him in 20 years but I found his flickr account filled with pictures of his family, my sister and her family, and my parents. It feels so weird being on the outside like this snooping through those photos, but if he didn't want just anyone to find them, he probably shouldn't have posted them on the worldwide web. I wonder if my sister gave him permission to post photos of her and her children because I know I would be knocking him into next week if he did that to me. I'm also pretty certain that my parents would not be thrilled to know he posted their pictures, but maybe I am wrong.

Going through those pictures leaves me feeling like the wind has been knocked out of me. I try not to think about them on holidays because that's when I feel their loss from my life the most. I feel angry, too, and I don't know why. I guess because I went through the pictures and looked to see if maybe I could tell if they're missing me like I always miss them, but all I see is their happiness in moments I will never share with them. I'm not one of those people who feels resentment when other people are happy. I mean, in general, I'm not. I find happiness in other people's happiness, but it feels painful seeing them happy without me.

It's thundering outside right now. The thunder is vicious sounding, and I can feel the ground beneath me rumble, the walls of my house vibrate. When the lightening strikes are close, that's when I feel it the most. It sounds like rage and sorrow and explosions that threaten to break everything into thousands of little pieces. I've been feeling sort of hateful all day and have had to fight saying mean things and writing mean things. And the mean things I'm tempted to say and write are truths that I am censoring because I cannot go around just saying/writing anything that pops into my head. Well, I could, but then everyone would hate me because none of us can stand to hear ugly truths and so I'll swallow those thoughts down and hope they go away or blow over like the storm outside my house, like the storm inside my head.

Why I write

2008-07-25T20:50:00.000-07:00

"I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of hunger for life that gnaws in us all." ~Richard Wright, American Hunger, 1977

I write because it comes easier to me than speaking. I write in my head all the time. My head is the place where I record everything, where the words come together. I am always writing something inside my head. I write because it's something I feel confident doing, and because when I compare myself to others, as I sometimes do, I don't feel like I come up short, like I don't measure up. I write because I grew up loving the stories that words can tell--how words and stories can take me away from a sometimes ordinary life and allow my soul to soar with adventure. I wanted to be able to do that, too, not so much with stories, but with snippets of my life that let the truth of my life shine through.

When I write, I think a part of me wants other people to tell me that they feel the same way I do, but I'm never mad or disappointed if they don't because life isn't about us being cookie cutter versions of each other and I'm ok with that. I write because it's like breathing to me--so effortless--when most everything else feels hard. I write because it's something I can call my own, it's my thing. I write because there's nothing more challenging to me than a blank page waiting to be filled with the words of my heart.

Writing feels like I am leaving pieces of me everywhere for someone else to find and piece together. It makes me feel brave that I am taking the risk of putting myself out there because mostly I am content to keep things safely inside me where no risk is involved. I write because I've always wished I could paint or draw, and writing is the closest I will ever get to being an artist. I write because I have things to say, and even if they are things that other people have said hundreds of times before, I like to think I'm saying them differently, that I'm making my story my own.

I write because I grew up in a family that didn't talk about feelings, and consequently I had so many things inside me that I knew needed to get out, and writing provided me that outlet. I write because it's like therapy without spending a dime. I write because I want something permanent that will say I was here, that I lived and loved and wrote it all down, and did not care if I sounded foolish or crazy or rotten or ridiculous. I write because it's something I love doing. I want people to read what I write and come back to learn more but if they don't, I think I am pretty much content knowing that I have this place where I can be the me I don't always get to be.

I write because I cannot ever imagine not writing. It's a passion that never alters. It's a gift that can't be measured. I write for the peace it brings me in the moments of my life when I am searching for a soft place to land, and it does not ever fail me.

More than anyone will ever know, writing is my salvation.

Why do you write?

Everyone knows I'm in over my head

2008-07-19T15:43:00.000-07:00

"I tell you everything that is really nothing, and nothing of what is everything, do not be fooled by what I am saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I am not saying." ~Charles C. Finn

The last pair of earphones I had met their demise in a paper shredder. I was happily cleaning the house with my music in my ears and I went to shred some nonsense credit card offers that came in the mail and I bent over the shredder and well, the earphones got sucked into the shredder and that was the end of those. I replaced them with a less expensive pair and have been careful not to go near the shredder while wearing them.

I went to listen to my ipod the other day and noticed my earphones were missing. I usually always leave them together but I'm not above being careless and thought perhaps that I had left them somewhere else so I searched throughout my bedroom but still couldn't find them anywhere. Later that night, my son came into my room and told me he had them and asked me if I noticed they were gone. I told him yes and that I had searched all over for them. I was sort of surprised that he took them because they're pink and he's this scruffy, tough looking guy, but I guess that doesn't matter if you want to listen to your own music bad enough.

I bought myself some new shampoo and put it in my bathroom. I got into the shower and looked around for the new shampoo and discovered it was gone. At that point I was naked and wet so I just used the old shampoo that was in there. When I got out of the shower, I searched the other bathrooms and found my new shampoo had found it's way into the girls' bathroom. Someone just up and took it. I didn't get mad because I'm getting used to my stuff being everyone else's, too.

Earlier in the week I had a really happy day out shopping with my youngest daughter. She needed a new pair of tennis shoes so we set off to the mall and found a pair and did some other shopping then went out to dinner. It was one of those days where you are happy and you know it but you don't really know it because you're in the moment living it and enjoying it. It's the kind of day you look back and think, "that was a fun day."

I told my daughter that she needed to scuff up the bottoms of her new shoes before going onto a court to play because new shoes tend to stick to the surface and can cause you to trip and fall. The following day she set off to play tennis and shortly afterwards I get a call from her telling me that she fell and hurt her ankle, and maybe she broke it. Lovely.

So I bite my tongue even though I wanted so badly to say I TOLD YOU SO!!! and went to get her. I brought her to the emergency room because she has a low tolerance for pain and a flair for dramatics that I knew would not simmer down until an x-ray was taken to prove one thing or the other (and even after it was proven that it wasn't broken she took me aside and told me she did not think much of the doctor on call because he wasn't serious enough for her!!!). I roll her into the children's section in a wheelchair and there was a young black woman doing the checking in and instead of asking us what happened she started going on and on about my daughter's tennis shoes---how great they were, how fine they were, where did we get them, how much did they cost, etc. I was standing there a bit confused because, um, it's an emergency room in a hospital, not The Finish Line. She interrupted her shoe gushing to have me fill out a form or two then we were wheeled off to get an x-ray.

We were in that room not more than 3 minutes when another black woman came in with a pad of paper and a pen and did she want details on my daughter's fall? Nope. She was sent by the other woman at the check in to get the name of the tennis shoes again because her friend tried to look them up online and couldn't find them! Is it me, or has the world gone mad?

Long story short, my daughter's ankle was just badly sprained, and she was sent home with a splint and crutches which she complains about endlessly (They stick in the carpet! They hurt her hands and under her arms!). I'm playing Cinderella to the best of my ability even though I tried to prevent this from happening by telling her not to wear those sneakers until they were scuffed up on the bottom but once again, no one listens to me.

That's what I like most about this blog. I say something (or, rather, write something) and pretend someone is listening.

Ask what I want, and I will sing, I want everything--everything

2008-07-11T20:12:00.000-07:00

My husband told me that the best part of going out of town is having me pick him up at the airport after his flight home. He said he feels important when he sees me there waiting for him. I really hate going to the airport because the drive in feels like an endless roller coaster ride where I'm just waiting for the carts to hop off the track, sending me plummeting to my death. Huge tractor trailers follow so close behind me that it feels like they are in my back seat. No one uses their directionals except me. Ambulances always come screeching out of nowhere, weaving in and out of traffic and 6 lanes do not feel sufficient enough for me to find a place out of their way. It's just all these people in a rush, talking on cell phones, singing along to blaring radios and it feels unsafe.

But after he told me that having me there waiting for him makes him feel special, I decided that I'd stop focusing on all the negatives. Besides, hanging out at the airport is interesting. I love watching all the people coming and going with their rolling luggage. I think of all the people and all the stories they have to tell. There must me a million of them. I like imagining what their stories might be.

I fixed a toilet today all by myself. I went out and bought the parts and sat there till I got it right. I love fixing things. I love having directions in front of me and putting things together.

I am thinking about painting the inside of my house. It'll give me something to throw my energies into, something that might stop or minimize some of the head noise that threatens to drive me crazy. Lately I've been a little bummed about the way the summer is playing out for me. We are still two cars short and most days, because I don't have a job outside the house, I am housebound and it's starting to get to me. It's like my world keeps getting smaller when I imagined at this point that it would be so much bigger. I keep having to shift my dreams, change my plans, to fit what life is requiring of me. I guess it's my own fault for looking to the future instead of living in the moment. But I don't know how to stop myself from wanting more.

I am greedy. I want everything.

On love - On marriage

2008-07-07T19:58:00.000-07:00

"I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it's not the answer." ~Jim Carrey

I think if anyone has illusions that marriage is all fun and games, they ought to take a peek at True Wife Confessions. I get sad, sometimes, reading post after post of downers about marriage, so I don't go there very often. I know that the site is primarily a place where women go to discuss things they feel they cannot discuss with other people--the ugly stuff, the embarrassing stuff, the sad stuff. There's a lot of anger there, too, and it's not under the surface either; it's raw and incredibly heartbreaking.

It didn't dawn on me until just recently how much of marriage seems centered around "the man" and making him happy--how marriage seems like it's something men get more out of than women. The expectations that women have placed on them to be everything to everyone are staggering and impossible to live up to, while men are expected to bring home a paycheck and if they do that then they're pretty much golden. Most of the women I know who are in marriages that would be considered "good," feel as though men benefit from marriage more than women do. This isn't a bunch of woe-is-me women pulling nonsensical theories out of thin air, it's real women looking at their lives objectively and feeling like the scales are tipped in favor of men more times than not in relationships, and saying to themselves that if they ever did get divorced, they'd never, ever marry again.

I feel that way, too, mostly because I married young when I could not know what it took me over 20 years to learn. And it has nothing to do with my husband--it's more about me wanting to experience life on my own terms--because I've never done that. I've always been defined by the relationships in my life that have ultimately taken over my life.

When I was growing up, I was told that getting married and having kids was what women should want for themselves, and I bought into that without question. I feel a little disappointed in myself that I never challenged what other people felt was my lot in life, that I did not dare think for myself because ultimately, that is what it was. I look back and think I've sleepwalked though parts of my life when I should have been awake and paying attention. I wonder, sometimes, why no one slapped me into consciousness, why no one looked out for me. Was it a generational thing? I don't know. All I know is that I would never presume to chart the course of anyone's destiny the way certain people felt entitled to chart mine while I went along like a good little girl who could not think for herself. I try not to dwell on it too much because it makes me angry. Why didn't I fight more for what I wanted? I just kind of went along. It's maddening. I really piss myself off.

My husband is always telling me how much he and the kids love me and I jokingly tell him that doesn't surprise me one bit because if I wasn't me, I'd be in love with me, too. I mean, who wouldn't love someone who does everything and expects so little in return?

I learned a friend of mine is getting a divorce because her husband cheated on her. For three days now, this is all I can think about. I cannot tell you how this breaks my heart because I want to believe in the sort of love that lasts forever, in the sort of love that takes commitments and vows seriously. I want to believe that love and marriage cannot be traded away carelessly after too much booze and too little thought, but this is what happens every day all around me. I want to believe that people are too smart to fall for that grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side bullshit, but we do it all the time. We think what we have is not enough, or not exciting enough. It's this constant looking outside of ourselves for something to fill us up. I don't get throwing away a family for a little fun that simply CANNOT be worth what it costs you in the end.

I'm not even sure what the point of this post is. I think a common theme of my blog is that love isn't easy. I never want people to walk away thinking I don't believe in marriage or love, because I do. But I think the day in and day out of it is tricky and difficult to navigate at times, and I think pretending that it is not does a disservice to everyone.

As often as I am disenchanted by love, I am swept up and away by how wondrous it is. Those are the times I try to keep with me. Those are the times I hold close.

The Fourth

2008-07-04T20:14:00.000-07:00

"...I wanted to feel that wind. It was a secret wanting, like a song I couldn't stop humming, or loving someone I could never have. No matter where I went, my compass pointed west. I would always know what time it was in California."~Janet Fitch, White Oleander

You know, sometimes I think my life is so boring that I won't be able to stand it another day. And it's not that my life isn't filled with stuff--because it is--filled with all sorts of ordinary stuff that needs to be done that gets done because if I don't do it, then nobody will. And sometimes I feel unappreciated, and a lot of the time, I feel like no one listens to me. There are even moments when I think that almost every choice I have ever made proves me unworthy of making choices and I regret every last thing I've done. In my weaker moments, I shift blame all around me and pretend that maybe I'd be so much more if only I wasn't attached to all these people who need and love me--like they're holding me down or back, like they're the ones responsible for my life, like they're the ones in charge. I am never more wrong than I am in my weaker moments.

~~~~~~~~~~

The washing machine is banging from an uneven load of laundry that my oldest daughter is doing. Instead of getting up and fixing it, my husband starts screaming about how it's ruining the show he is watching on TV (priorities!). I have to count to 50, and bite my tongue, and take a deep breath not to respond by yelling back at him to stop being such an asshat. There is never any logic to what he blows up about. This is one of those times I think-- how could I have ever picked him to be my lawfully wedded husband because all the small things start to add up and get under my skin--irritating me to no end. But I swallow it down, remembering that life isn't one Brady Bunch moment after another. Real life requires that I remember that reality sometimes sucks.

~~~~~~~~~~

I can still hear fireworks outside. When I was younger, my brothers and sister and I used to climb out on the roof of our house to watch the fireworks show my father would put on for us and the neighbors. I cannot believe my parents allowed us to do that, but they did. It is one of my happiest memories--sitting beside them and watching beautiful colors light up the sky. Holidays always make me miss the family I don't get to see very often. I'm ok the rest of the year but on holidays I hate thinking of them having fun without me. That's ridiculously selfish, but sometimes I can be ridiculously selfish.

~~~~~~~~~~

I really dislike people who use the free speech card as an excuse to bash or judge other people. Ditto for those who say mean things then tell you they were only joking.

~~~~~~~~~~

I don't know if I ever mentioned before how much I love to read. When I was a teenager (a freshman in high school) we were relocated and I found myself in a place where it seemed like it was a rule that if you were not born there, you would always be an outsider. I think it was then that I started to lose myself inside books. The url of this blog comes from a poem I wrote a long time ago about my love for books, how they allowed me to lose myself inside a world that wasn't mine. You should see my house. It is filled with all the books that I love--they are on tables and in baskets, piled high all around. But I don't have any bookcases which is strange. Not a single one.

Awhile back, my parents emailed me and asked me what things I wanted of theirs when they died which I thought was a strange request because the both of them have more energy than I have and sometimes I'm certain they will outlive me, but anyway, all I could think about was that Gilmore Girls episode where Emily had Rory and Lorelai put post it notes on everything in her house that they wanted after she passed on. I pictured my parents doing the same thing because they are nothing if not organized and fair about things. I couldn't bring myself to commit to anything, though. It felt too morbid and weird. But I know they have lots of bookcases so maybe I will request those--put my order in, if you will.

My Slice of Life Quotes - Money

2008-07-02T14:40:00.000-07:00

He went on a lunatic rant about spending money frivolously, and how we all needed to be frugal for the next month or so, then later in the afternoon suggested we all go out to dinner, and I said, "Ok, sounds good to me."

Just because

2008-07-01T15:23:00.000-07:00

I have this page-a-day calendar that's all about poetry. I do not like it as much as I thought I would for some reason. Maybe it's because too many pages are dedicated to mini biographies of poets and it was POETRY I wanted to read, not biographies. Up until this year, I've always bought page-a-day calendars with quotes on them, which I've loved to death. Anyway, this was the poem from yesterday (June 30). I love this one. I think I might make it my personal symphony.

Sunset

Your life must be loved this much.

Standing by the water's edge, looking down at the wave,
touching you. You have to lie, stiff, arms folded,

on a heap of earth and see how far the darkness

will take you. I mean it, this, now--before the ghost
the cold leaves in your breath, rises; before the toes

are put together inside the shoes. There it is--the god damn

orange-going-into-rose descending circle of beauty & time.
You have nothing to be sad about.

-Jason Shinder

Reasons for happiness

2008-06-30T14:16:00.000-07:00

"We all have reasons
for moving.
I move
to keep things whole." ~Mark Strand

Here are a few things that make me happy lately:

-The other day we went for a "little drive up the road" for about three hours and ended up in another state and the Dairy Queen there had chocolate ice cream and I got a vanilla and chocolate swirl cone and it was delicious! I love Dairy Queen but love the ones that have chocolate more (where I live they only have vanilla!!!)

-Watching Wimbledon. I am a huge tennis fan and I love this time of the year when Wimbledon and the US Open roll around. I could watch it all day long.

-Watermelon! YUM! I buy them whole (seedless, of course)and cut them up in little pieces and they have to be ice cold and then I eat them all up in almost one sitting. This is one fruit that I can hog all by myself because I hide it deep in the refrigerator and no one bothers to look for it.

-We finally got notification that our stimulus check is on its way. We're always the last to get everything so this is a real thrill. Plus, we always OWE taxes so it's nice to be getting something back for a change. Not that we're going to do anything fun with it. It comes just in time to pay for the repairs on my son's car. Every frivolous cent that comes into this house predictably seems to go to something for my son (out of state college tuition, etc.) Not that I'm keeping track or anything.

-Rainbows. We had some freaky weather here last night and after it all went down, the sky turned this yellow-orange color and I don't know--it kind of felt like I was smack dab in the middle of the Wizard of Oz or something so I went outside to take a closer look and there was this perfect rainbow arching the sky. It was beautiful. I wished on it. I believe rainbows (seeing them) bring good luck. I believe in good luck!

General annoyances

2008-06-27T17:04:00.000-07:00

"I hope life isn't a big joke, because I don't get it." ~Jack Handey

*Buying a single scoop ice cream cone to the tune of $2.99 only to find out at the checkout that they charge 25 cents extra for a sugar cone. When they asked me what kind of cone I wanted, no one told me the cone I asked for would be extra and there was no sign. I had to fight the urge to smash the cone in her face. We're being nickel and dimed and quartered to death!!!

*Being asleep and having my husband say loudly, "K, are you awake?" It's just rude. I never do that to anyone. He does this when he wants something because he's selfish like that and it's always about him. If I see someone sleeping, I think that perhaps that person NEEDS the sleep and I allow that person to snooze in peace. Also, it's not like in the past 20 some odd years I ever wake up in a happy mood, so it stands to reason that if you rudely wake me up I'll be even meaner, so why not just get a clue and let me sleep until I wake up?

*Aisle hoggers. OMG. Push you cart over to the side so others can get by for crying out loud. Trust me, it's not such a difficult concept to put into action. These people who leave their carts dead center in the aisle then just expect others to wait while they decide which deodorant they're going to buy drive me up the wall.

*People who smack their kids when their kids make weird/funny faces when they are getting their pictures taken. I saw this happen at the beach. The mother smacked her kid hard because he kept making silly faces when the grandmother was taking a picture. How completely ignorant can you be? Being a little kid and having a little fun is a crime now? Get a sense of humor, lady and stop being an abusive bully. I really, really, really hate parents like that.

*Waiters who can't speak the English language. I'm sorry, but I have had it up to my eyeballs with waiters who cannot speak English properly. It's loads of fun asking over and over again what the hell is being said to me and then having to PAY this person for all their "help." We went out to PF Changs the other night and our waiter whispered in what I suppose was English but you could have fooled me. I kept saying, "I'm sorry, I don't understand you." He needed to speak up and speak ENGLISH!!! And don't even get me started on customer service representatives who barely speak English. I'm pretty certain they are the leading cause of high blood pressure in our society. Ditto for all the Dunkin Donut people/Subway people/Philly Cheesesteak people.

*Store-closing-everything-30%-50%-off-scams. OMG. There's a Rite-Aid around the corner that's going out of business and has huge orange signs shouting that everything must go and everything is 30%-50% off. I needed sunscreen before heading to the beach so I figured that would be a great place to pick some up for a cheap price. WRONG. I went to the sunscreen section only to find that they had re-ticketed everything--marking it up AT LEAST DOUBLE so that when you took the 50% off you were either paying the SAME price or EVEN HIGHER than the regular price! Thanks but no thanks. I just stood there laughing because I really can't take it anymore. I hate it when people think we're all stupid. I left the store immediately without buy a thing. (They had boxes of DOTS marked up to $2.00. Please.)

Ok. I guess that's it. I'm glad it's Friday. I think I'm looking forward to the weekend, but it's still early yet. I'm watching the So You Think You Can Dance elimination show that I taped because I was out late last night at the airport picking up my husband and missed it. Can I tell you that I love Comcast? We just switched and I think it is wonderful. So much better than what we had before. On Demand is awesome. I missed the season premier of Weeds and all I had to do was go and watch it on Demand. How great is that? Pretty great.

Have the hot tamale train make a stop at my house to pick me up and take me far away---PLEASE

2008-06-25T15:17:00.000-07:00

"It's just life. Just live it." ~The Quote Garden

It's been a long day. It started off early taking my husband to the airport. Thank goodness traffic wasn't too bad this morning. It's a short trip and he'll be home tomorrow night. He'll come home and ask me if I missed him and honestly, he's never gone long enough for that to happen so I usually tell him no.

I came home to the daily "car battles" that have been happening here and I've got to tell you, I've about had it with all of them. We're still 2 cars short(because did I tell you all that my son's transmission went on his trip home from college? because it did!!!) and so every day it's with this bickering and fighting over who gets what car. Apparently I missed an "almost physical fight" between my son and youngest daughter that my oldest daughter broke up. This is at 8 AM, mind you, and I don't wake up properly until after 10 AM which everyone knows.

So I come home to the aftermath of this drama and I'm not in any mood to be a referee anymore which is the role they always assign me. Then I have my son giving me a lecture about how I'm not parenting my youngest properly because she's a big mouth and doesn't back down! Huh? I finally slammed my bedroom door and locked it behind me because no one here can discuss things rationally without hitting below the belt. I don't know why my first response is to just run away from all of them, but there you have it. All I want to do is run away. I'm tired. I want them all to grow up and move the fuck out.

I'm sure I'll feel differently and better tomorrow but right now I'm pretty much over them.

~~~~~~~

I think today is the last day of NCLM. I was right on track until I went on vacation and I just haven't been able to catch up so I guess I failed. Sigh. I cannot lie, my intentions are usually always better than my actions. I typically have no time for people like that. I'm quite the hypocrite sometimes.

Anyhow, what I wanted to say about the whole NCLM thing is that even though I wasn't able to follow through on my commitment, I really feel as though I got a lot out of the whole experience and I'd like to thank the Stirrup-Queen for heading this thing up.

Blogging can be a little cliquish in my opinion. I'll take a peek at blogrolls and click on a link and an identical blogroll appears on the link I clicked. Sometimes it feels like once a group is established, they don't want anyone else to come in. Now I could just be projecting, but that's how it FEELS to me so maybe there's a little bit of truth in what I'm saying. It's like they all link to each other and talk about each other in posts and outsiders just don't stand a chance against all that chummy friendliness.

The whole thing annoys me and I've mostly been happy staying here by myself and avoiding that because I guess I'm just getting too old to play games that aren't fun. I don't want to be in any group just to exclude other people. That doesn't work for me. I want to like who I like. I want to not read blogs I don't like and not feel like I have to swoon over someone just because a bunch of people say how wonderful they are. In other words, I have a working brain and can make my own decisions about who and what I like to read.

But NCLM was different because it was people who wanted to participate and I have to say that I'm so thrilled to have found a number of really great blogs that I know I will follow as long as the authors are writing. It opened me up to commenting again and while I find the whole comment thing tiresome when it feels like an obligation, I'm going to be true to myself and only comment when I feel as though I have something to add.

I know I've gained more than I thought I would , more than I gave, really, and that was nice. That was awesome.

When they aren't soothing my soul, vacations make me tired

2008-06-22T17:03:00.000-07:00

"Laughter is an instant vacation." ~Milton Berle

They fight over the radio station, where we will go to eat, what TV show we will watch, how long it takes to get there, how long it takes us to get back, who is carrying the heaviest bags, whether the AC in the room is too hot or too cold, whether the ocean is miracle or just a body of water with a lot of annoying sand all around, DH driving too slow and taking corners too sharply and causing her to shift in her seat, politics, tattoos and body piercing and DH's sexist views of both, whether we should take a sightseeing cruise, DH's horrible snoring which he claims he doesn't do! They argue and fight about everything.

I fight the losing battle to keep the peace.

I bring along novels to escape their histrionics because they are relentless in their need to be right about everything and they seem to enjoy the sparring. I bring my IPOD along as well. It is filled with songs that will tell you a lot about who I am. I feel myself shrinking around them because I just want everyone to be happy and don't understand this need to create friction all the damn time. I plead with them to stop, to be kind to each other. I know I have a purpose here with them, I'm just not certain what it is yet or if I'll ever be successful.

But the ocean? The ocean was peaceful and healing. It was emerald green and blue, and sometimes it was a beautiful mix of both colors. The sun looked like it was dancing on top of the water and I wished I could float on top of it forever. On the horizon, not too far from shore, we could see dolphins swimming and jumping. The sand was the purest white, soft and cool. There weren't enough shells but the ones I found were bright white and shaped perfectly. I brought them home and placed them in my jar of shells. I love the sound of the ocean. I love the sun setting on top of the water. I love thinking about all the life contained within it.

I came home and did laundry, emptied the dishwasher, and stored the luggage away in my closet. I know this routine by heart. I am happy this routine gets interrupted every once in a while, that I get to live away from it, even if only for a week.

When I walk, I can still feel some sand in my shoes. It secretly makes me happy knowing I still have a part of that world so close to me, helping me remember.

The suckage that is WALGREENS

2008-06-21T19:38:00.000-07:00

"Mistakes fail in their mission of helping the person who blames them on the other fellow." ~Henry S. Haskins

A little over a month ago I went to drop off a roll of film to be developed at WALGREENS. I was doing a photo collage for a friend and wanted the pictures back in an hour but when I requested this, the woman behind the counter explained to me that they were having problems with the machine and asked if I wouldn't mind getting them the following day. I said that would be ok because I still had two days to finish up the collage.

The following day I returned, paid for my photos and when I got back to my car and took a look at them, I noticed that they had given me 3x3's and NOT 4x6's as I had ordered. I went back inside WALGREENS, and when the woman behind the counter saw me returning she said, "Uh oh, what's wrong?"

I showed her the 3x3's and told her that I had ordered 4x6's. She said, "Oh, they probably should have made note of the fact that they gave you 3x3's," and I told her that I didn't really see the point in them telling me that since I ordered 4x6's which meant I wanted 4x6's. I mean, REALLY.

She replied, "Well, I will do anything to make this right for you so let me print up the pictures in the 4x6 size."

There were about 5 photos at size 3x3 that I could use for the collage while I waited on the 4x6's so I asked her if I could take the 3x3's and just come back to get the 4x6's in an hour. She told me, "NO, I can't let you have the 3x3's!"

Um...WTF? So I said to her, "You mean to tell me that you inconvenienced me last night by not being able to give me my photos in an hour only to come back today to get the WRONG size and now I have to wait another hour (at least) to get the right size and you will not let me take these 3x3's which you will end up throwing out anyway?" She replied, "I'm sorry, I can't let you have them."

I said, "Let me see if I've got this straight...you will not let me have the photos I've paid for because you need to have them in exchange for the 4x6's you will be making up for me? You've inconvenienced me twice now resulting in me making extra trips here and back to get what I want and you cannot allow me to have the 3x3's AND the 4x6's?"

She told me I had got it straight. OMFG.

I stood there debating whether to cause a scene or not, opted for NOT, grabbed the 3x3's which I had already PAID for and left the store vowing never to return. I went home, got on the WALGREENS website and lodged a complaint about the store and my experience but never heard back from them. In my complaint email I told them that I spend quite a bit of money getting film developed at their store but would go elsewhere in the future because obviously they weren't interested in making their customers happy.

Fast forward to today. I had two rolls of film that needed to be developed and had just gone grocery shopping and the closest place to get the film developed was at WALGREENS so I bit the bullet and went in thinking that things could only get better from my last experience. WRONG assumption.

I stood at the photo center for about 5 minutes and no one comes or asks to help me so I yelled to the kid at the front of the store and asked if he could find someone to wait on me. He says sure and uses his loud speaker to call for someone to come to the photo center. No one comes. I walk down to him and ask him if anyone is coming and he tells me yes. He gives another call out on his loud speaker for assistance at the photo center. As I am walking back to the photo center I look down the aisles and see various WALGREEN employees stocking shelves. Correct me if I am wrong, but SHOULDN'T THOSE EMPLOYEES BE TENDING TO THE CUSTOMERS RATHER THAN STOCKING SHELVES? I'm thinking YES, THEY SHOULD BE HELPING ME AND OTHER CUSTOMERS AND STOCKING SHELVES WHEN THERE IS A LULL IN BUSINESS BUT THAT'S JUST ME--A CUSTOMER WHO EXPECTS TO BE WAITED ON WHEN I AM IN A PLACE OF BUSINESS SPENDING MONEY FOR A SERVICE.

I go back to the photo center and decide to count up to 60 and if no one comes, I will leave the store because I have ice cream melting in the car waiting for these losers to help me. I count to 60 S-L-O-W-L-Y and NO ONE COMES!!! Inconceivable but TRUE!!! As I am leaving, I tell the kid at the front of the store that I'll just go somewhere else because it's obvious no one wants to help me which is really confusing/disturbing to me in this economy but hey, if they don't want my money, I'll spend it somewhere else. He tells me he's sorry! WTF? What is wrong with everyone at WALGREENS? They must enjoy watching MONEY WALK OUT THE AUTOMATIC FRONT DOORS!!! There is no other explanation.

I'm about to get into my car when I see him chasing me down in the parking lot (and God Bless him, at least HE cared enough to try to get someone to help me), and he told me that finally someone was in the photo center to help. Huh? This must be a new thing where you have to leave the store in disgust and be getting in your car to leave before they believe you might want to get waited on SOME TIME THIS CENTURY. Reluctantly, I go back in and give the girl behind the counter a piece of my mind but wouldn't you know it, she told me SHE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE AT THE PHOTO CENTER EITHER. It was like she was condescending to help me out. Un-f-ingbelievable.

She did not apologize for making me wait because IT WASN'T HER FAULT. WELL WHOSE FAULT IS IT YOU DIMWIT? No one will take responsibility for anything. No one will step up to the plate and say, "I'm so sorry for the long wait, how can I help you, how can I make this right so that you will want to come back again?" WALGREENS DOES NOT CARE ABOUT THEIR CUSTOMERS!

WALGREENS? YOU SUCK. Those will be the last photos I ever get developed in your store and this time I will keep this promise because of the total lack of respect you have for your paying customers. I'm done paying money to be dissatisfied and ignored. I'll travel an hour out of my way if I have to NOT to go to your store ever again. I will tell anyone and everyone I can about my experiences at your store and how in a recession you don't mind pissing off customers to the point that they will never come back. Must be nice.

I think perhaps a company pow wow is in order where you teach your employees that THE CUSTOMER IS ALWAYS RIGHT AND THAT THE CUSTOMER COMES FIRST (before stocking shelves and having a smoke break out front) because your employees don't seem to know this, or they missed the memo, or maybe it's that they just don't care. Either way, I'm done and it's YOUR LOSS, not mine.

*excessive use of CAPS totally necessary*

Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice, you've made it now

2008-06-15T16:09:00.000-07:00

"It is only when we silent the blaring sounds of our daily existence that we can finally hear the whispers of truth that life reveals to us, as it stands knocking on the doorsteps of our hearts." ~K.T. Jong

"I wish we could squeeze in going back to see them," I said to my husband today.

I think about the porch with the rocking chair I always sit in--the one painted bluish gray and hand stenciled by my mother. I think of the window boxes filled with pansies, the pond littered with lily pads, the birdhouses made by my father nailed up high in the trees, the quiet peace I find secluded in the country where cars are not constantly whizzing by--where life takes its time because life will not be rushed there. My life is nothing like theirs and the silence always unnerves me, then eventually soothes me.

I think of my childhood furniture in the room upstairs where we always stay when we visit. I tell my children how I slept in this bed when I was little, and how right beside me, slept my sister, and sometimes I wish so hard that I could go back again because I never appreciated sharing a room with her until I didn't anymore. But mostly I think of the wildflowers because you would not believe how beautiful they are, and how whenever I see wildflowers anywhere, I always think of them.

Summer always makes me want to go back to my other home, to my other family, but this year, we're heading somewhere different. I'll be on vacation for the week.

Until then, think of me.

Love notes

2008-06-12T12:32:00.000-07:00

"...You are the dreamer~ And we are the dream~ I could write it better than you ever felt it..."~FOB

Almost every morning before leaving for work, my husband leaves me a little love note of sorts on post-it note paper. Sometimes he takes 2 or 3 to get the whole message down. They say things like "you are gorgeous" or that "you are my love" or he'll write, "I'll catch you later, baby." Some days the love notes will veer away from love and become mini to-do lists for me. They will say "don't forget to pay the bills," or "remember to pick up my clothes at the cleaners" or "please water the lawn." I'm not fond of the to-do list notes because I've never liked people telling me what to do. I usually crumble those up and toss them into the trash immediately so that I don't get all hateful inside first thing in the morning.

The true love notes, I keep hidden in one of my junk drawers. I have many junk drawers and maybe one organized one because I can't seem to keep things in order to save my life. I aspire to be more organized, I think about how wonderful it would be to be more organized, but I never actually do anything about it. I don't have all my crap together and don't ever want anyone to think for a minute that I do. I think the people in my life who love me best, love me mostly for all the ways in which I am not perfect.

Because I believe in the power of love, because I think that love can make all the difference in a world where I sometimes feel so insignificant and small, I stack the love notes I have saved one on top of the other so that I can pull them out and read them when I need to be reminded that I am lovable, that I am loved.

Ulterior motives (he's not fooling me!) - My Slice of Life Quotes

2008-06-10T11:17:00.000-07:00

I flipped open my phone and he said, "I just called to say hi," then he proceeded to give me a list of things to do a mile long and I told him that the next time he felt the need to say hello to just skip it because I had enough of my own things to do without adding his into the mix.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My memoir in six words-- tagged by VA Blondie

I lived fully until I died.