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

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.

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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.

something so beautiful

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.

you wanted something more than this

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

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.

the stars are brightly shining

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.

another me

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.

She brings light, she is like the sun

"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.

Into the light

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.

Togetherness

" 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

"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

"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.

Thanksgiving

"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.

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

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.

My slice of life quotes - Time travel

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

"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

"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

"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.

The Fourth

"...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.

General annoyances

"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.

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

"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.