I was lovingly admonished today about my lack of entries of late. I KNOW I should be writing, but I don’t have anything positive to say. And you know the old saying “If you don’t have anything nice to say, just keep your mouth shut.” So I’m just going to dump my insides onto this page.
I’ve been watching relationships around me crumble lately, and I just don’t understand. How do you look at someone in front of God, your friends and family, promise fidelity and until death do you part…then just change your mind? When a person has given you EVERYTHING you have ever asked for, could ever dream of having, and love you unconditionally, just the same as they did that day in the front of the church? WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?! I suppose it is because no one has chosen me, that I find it unfathomable to just walk away from love.
I’ve been dreaming of tornadoes and watching plane crashes lately when I am able to sleep. Dream dictionaries indicate a loss of control and dreams dying. I try to tell myself it is just a bunch of shit, but I really am beginning to feel it. BEFORE I read anything about it. Or it could be the not sleeping part of it too.
I’m not exactly where I wanted to be at 42. At all. I have no great love, I have no family of my own, I have no career…or even a career path, no home, and really no life. Some days I feel like I’m just taking up space.
But then I remember the light that walked through my life in June, and what my dear new friend saw in me. Potential, love, kindness, wit, steadfastness, even a little pretty. Why can’t that be enough for me? WHY do I require constant reminding that I am worthwhile?
Summertime in Kansas means big sticky bugs on your windshield. They dry fast, and are almost impossible to remove. It seems like it almost takes kerosene to get them off so I can see clearly. I have bugs on my windshield. Literally, and figuratively. I need someone to help me get them off. I feel as though I’m sliding into the abyss. Maybe I should up my meds.
I need a good weekend. I need someone to hold a mirror up to me again. Or maybe I just need a project I can sink my teeth into. You know, focus on someone else rather than fix what is broken inside myself.
Ahhhh the joys of being an Adult Daughter. Smile, though your heart is breaking… Must make the package look pretty, even though it contains a lump of crap.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
Stones
I've had a few stones...but life is looking up. I have a fantastic weekend ahead.
Last night's sunset was stellar, reminding me why I love living right here.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Cops, cats and other stuff. (With apologies to Paula Poundstone, although I did alter the order of her words!)
I fear that I may have been a bit brooding and self-absorbed of late, so tonight will be lighter fare. I think.
I believe that this evening after my silversmithing class, I came face to face with the realization that what I thought was just a longing for a certain type of food, has indeed become a full-blown addiction. See example below:
Now, look me in the eyes and tell me I don’t have a problem.
*
I wrote this long ago, and it still gives me the giggles. Thumper and Stella were my original fur babies. There will be more on them later along with a photo, because it is somewhere on an old hard drive.
Thumper and Stella Go Crazy
It's official. Thumper and Stella are total crackheads. I came home tonight and rushed around outside, deadheading and such, then watered, as we didn't get the forecasted rain AGAIN. When I finally came in to relieve myself after all that running water, the bathroom was TRASHED!
How could I tell, you ask? Every SINGLE washcloth was out of the drawer and carelessly cast about the floor, counter and windowsill. And there were hair products scattered willy nilly across the floor and filling the drawer that once housed the washcloths. I was a little freaked out, to say the least.
Had I been housing stolen gems for an Eastern European group? No. Had I been smuggling drugs for a South American cartel? I think not. Had I, many moons ago, tucked away a gallon ziplock back of catnip to dole out as a treat and forgotten all about it. Indeed. Was it shredded into tiny bits, and filling the once neat and tidy drawer full of plastic mixed with a green leafy vegetative substance? Hell yes.
Are my children currently lying about, glassy-eyed and purring, unable to focus? I'm so proud. Are their eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, and are they failing to perform even rudimentary cat antics? Now I know how my parents felt when I would come home smelling of smoke and hops.
I shook my head sadly, and am hoping it wears off soon., because I hate cleaning. Little bastards.
Uh oh. They have just slipped me a note full of doodles and happy faces. They have the munchies. I have to go to the store and get Funyuns and Mellow Yellow.
I hope this isn't a harbinger of things to come. I won't be able to afford to send them BOTH to treatment. Does anyone know… is catnip a gateway drug?
*
Today, I invited my high school English/Creative Writing teachers to read my blog. Welcome to Judy, Mary and Janet. You three were instrumental in my development as a writer, and I thank you for nurturing me and being patient. And although I was completely unable to complete the task of a daily journal or completing a time capsule, (because quite frankly, who could get me to sit still long enough) I think I’m going to like this forum because I can do it when I damn well feel like it! Trust me though, Jonathon is already a brutal task master.
I still detest rough drafts, because for me, writing is more about just vomiting my words onto the screen. But I do find myself letting it flow, then going back to edit. Computers make it MUCH easier! I still fear the red pen and Judy’s handwriting.
Again, thank you. Marion High School couldn’t have had a finer English department.
I believe that this evening after my silversmithing class, I came face to face with the realization that what I thought was just a longing for a certain type of food, has indeed become a full-blown addiction. See example below:
As I drove down Hillside tonight toward my favorite Popeye’s, my mouth was watering and my hands were a bit shaky with excitement. I had done without my beloved spicy chicken for a month due to a self-imposed restriction. I popped up over the hill and just as I was about to turn my blinker on, I noticed the blue and red rollers of a Wichita Police Department vehicle. The VERY FIRST thought I had was “Oh HELL no…they better not be closed”. My second thought? “The only way I’m not stopping is if the WPD is actually INSIDE the restaurant.” I calmed down as I drove by the officer on a traffic stop and was able to pull into the drive-through without incident.
Now, look me in the eyes and tell me I don’t have a problem.
*
I wrote this long ago, and it still gives me the giggles. Thumper and Stella were my original fur babies. There will be more on them later along with a photo, because it is somewhere on an old hard drive.
Thumper and Stella Go Crazy
It's official. Thumper and Stella are total crackheads. I came home tonight and rushed around outside, deadheading and such, then watered, as we didn't get the forecasted rain AGAIN. When I finally came in to relieve myself after all that running water, the bathroom was TRASHED!
How could I tell, you ask? Every SINGLE washcloth was out of the drawer and carelessly cast about the floor, counter and windowsill. And there were hair products scattered willy nilly across the floor and filling the drawer that once housed the washcloths. I was a little freaked out, to say the least.
Had I been housing stolen gems for an Eastern European group? No. Had I been smuggling drugs for a South American cartel? I think not. Had I, many moons ago, tucked away a gallon ziplock back of catnip to dole out as a treat and forgotten all about it. Indeed. Was it shredded into tiny bits, and filling the once neat and tidy drawer full of plastic mixed with a green leafy vegetative substance? Hell yes.
Are my children currently lying about, glassy-eyed and purring, unable to focus? I'm so proud. Are their eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, and are they failing to perform even rudimentary cat antics? Now I know how my parents felt when I would come home smelling of smoke and hops.
I shook my head sadly, and am hoping it wears off soon., because I hate cleaning. Little bastards.
Uh oh. They have just slipped me a note full of doodles and happy faces. They have the munchies. I have to go to the store and get Funyuns and Mellow Yellow.
I hope this isn't a harbinger of things to come. I won't be able to afford to send them BOTH to treatment. Does anyone know… is catnip a gateway drug?
*
Today, I invited my high school English/Creative Writing teachers to read my blog. Welcome to Judy, Mary and Janet. You three were instrumental in my development as a writer, and I thank you for nurturing me and being patient. And although I was completely unable to complete the task of a daily journal or completing a time capsule, (because quite frankly, who could get me to sit still long enough) I think I’m going to like this forum because I can do it when I damn well feel like it! Trust me though, Jonathon is already a brutal task master.
I still detest rough drafts, because for me, writing is more about just vomiting my words onto the screen. But I do find myself letting it flow, then going back to edit. Computers make it MUCH easier! I still fear the red pen and Judy’s handwriting.
Again, thank you. Marion High School couldn’t have had a finer English department.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Fourth Fun and life lessons
I love where I live. Most days. This holiday weekend was not an exception. Seriously – where else could I stand and have an intense, intelligent conversation with my high school English teacher about writing, only to have a guy take a margarita (made with a garbage disposal) out of my hand, replacing it with a propane torch and some bottle rockets while telling me to get sh*t lit?
I absolutely love this kind of balance in my life. My parents, Rocky and Shirley Jo, are awesome examples of people that are inquisitive by nature and that know this little spot of ground of ours isn’t all there is in this world. My little brother and I were raised to see everything, devour information, question authority when we know it is wrong, stand up for what we believe in even though it isn’t popular, and do for others without expecting anything in return.
Because of their examples, Christopher (the little brother) and I are what I feel are unique individuals. Human chameleons. While we LOOK like middle-America, white bread, farm kids… you can drop either of us into any situation – from fishing with people that HAVE to do it to eat… to a swank cocktail party in New York City – and not only are we comfortable, but the people around us are as well.
Redneck to nouveau riche, people are just people, and we all have basically the same wants and needs. To be looked at when we speak, to feel like someone isn’t just waiting to talk but really listening, a firm handshake, and to not take us at face value. My incredibly wonderful best girlfriend Karin is able to find something beautiful in anyone, and I wish I were more like her.
And just for the record, I have an AWESOME photo for this post. BUT my self-appointed blog manager hasn't taught me that part yet. ; ) I have also just found an errant neck hair that I simply must tweeze, so I do believe I'm done for now!
I absolutely love this kind of balance in my life. My parents, Rocky and Shirley Jo, are awesome examples of people that are inquisitive by nature and that know this little spot of ground of ours isn’t all there is in this world. My little brother and I were raised to see everything, devour information, question authority when we know it is wrong, stand up for what we believe in even though it isn’t popular, and do for others without expecting anything in return.
Because of their examples, Christopher (the little brother) and I are what I feel are unique individuals. Human chameleons. While we LOOK like middle-America, white bread, farm kids… you can drop either of us into any situation – from fishing with people that HAVE to do it to eat… to a swank cocktail party in New York City – and not only are we comfortable, but the people around us are as well.
Redneck to nouveau riche, people are just people, and we all have basically the same wants and needs. To be looked at when we speak, to feel like someone isn’t just waiting to talk but really listening, a firm handshake, and to not take us at face value. My incredibly wonderful best girlfriend Karin is able to find something beautiful in anyone, and I wish I were more like her.
And just for the record, I have an AWESOME photo for this post. BUT my self-appointed blog manager hasn't taught me that part yet. ; ) I have also just found an errant neck hair that I simply must tweeze, so I do believe I'm done for now!
Friday, July 2, 2010
Bits
On my drive home from Wichita today, I had at least fourteen different entries started in my head. I think I need a person to follow me around with a notebook, jotting down ideas, categorizing, and regurgitating all of it on a moment’s notice. Self-indulgent? Absolutely. But then again, it is ME we are talking about.
I have spent the last several days in a state of hyperawareness, mostly regarding my reactions. I’m learning how I separate and compartmentalize responses to things based on situations. I want to become the most authentic version of myself, but it seems to be buried under many layers of protective swaddling.
At 42, I’m becoming comfortable with the fact that I’m broken, in my own way. But that it is okay, because everyone else is a little broken, too. Some people are chipped, some cracked, and others like me are just missing whole chunks. The point is, that we all manage, in some way or another, to cover it and survive.
I have spent these last few days deep in my head. Lots of cobwebs, people. It’s a tricky space, but it is mine. I have also enjoyed dear and wonderful friends, eaten fantastic food, picked out a carful of plants at 70% off, pounded metal until it bent to my will, and exposed a carefully hidden piece of my tender insides to an almost complete stranger. I tried to explain that once you open the box, you become stuck with me – all of me, even the part I hide. This once stranger is now, of course, bound to me for all eternity. BAHH HAA HAAA!!!
I apologize for the randomess (I think I just created a new word – randomness + mess = me!) of this early entry. Not exactly Pulitzer material, but I must get used to harnessing the words and forming them into cohesive bits. I suppose practice will make it better. I just hate learning in front of people!
So stay tuned – I’ll improve. (But first, you must promise to be tolerant of, or at least overlook my love of parentheses and ellipses.)
CRAP! My car tags expired today…
I have spent the last several days in a state of hyperawareness, mostly regarding my reactions. I’m learning how I separate and compartmentalize responses to things based on situations. I want to become the most authentic version of myself, but it seems to be buried under many layers of protective swaddling.
At 42, I’m becoming comfortable with the fact that I’m broken, in my own way. But that it is okay, because everyone else is a little broken, too. Some people are chipped, some cracked, and others like me are just missing whole chunks. The point is, that we all manage, in some way or another, to cover it and survive.
I have spent these last few days deep in my head. Lots of cobwebs, people. It’s a tricky space, but it is mine. I have also enjoyed dear and wonderful friends, eaten fantastic food, picked out a carful of plants at 70% off, pounded metal until it bent to my will, and exposed a carefully hidden piece of my tender insides to an almost complete stranger. I tried to explain that once you open the box, you become stuck with me – all of me, even the part I hide. This once stranger is now, of course, bound to me for all eternity. BAHH HAA HAAA!!!
I apologize for the randomess (I think I just created a new word – randomness + mess = me!) of this early entry. Not exactly Pulitzer material, but I must get used to harnessing the words and forming them into cohesive bits. I suppose practice will make it better. I just hate learning in front of people!
So stay tuned – I’ll improve. (But first, you must promise to be tolerant of, or at least overlook my love of parentheses and ellipses.)
CRAP! My car tags expired today…
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