40 kinds of sadness

"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...

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

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.

Why I write

"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

"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

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

"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

"...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.

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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.

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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.

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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

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

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

"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

"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.