While a good amount of people spend the days leading up to Christmas in a shopping frenzy, scurrying about trying to find the perfect gift for that perfect one. Decorating the house and filling out Christmas cards filling the universe with cheer. I, spend the entire month of December, mostly numb. I have a hard time engaging and investing emotionally in the holiday spirit. I go on with my days like any other.
I came home from work tonight to a disgruntled daughter who became upset after finding the latest Stephanie Plum book already on my nightstand, thus thwarting her plans to get said book for me as a Christmas present. She said, " You are the worst person in the world to shop for because YOU NEVER ASK FOR ANYTHING!"
I don't. What do I need? I have a roof over my head, clothes on my back and food on the table. I have heat in my house and a car that gets me from point A to point B. I have two happy and healthy kids who love me and I them. I have the air in my lungs and every day that I wake up is another chance to get it right. The rest is gravy. I find sheer joy in giving to others. The looks on their faces is gift enough for me. Which really drives people crazy. Particularly my kids. Material things matter very little to me. What I want, money cannot buy.... Okay, so technically you "can" buy it, but that's not the kind of love I want. It must be given freely.
Anyway, tomorrow morning I will put up the Christmas tree and get it ready for the kids to decorate tomorrow night after I'm done teaching my Adult Tap Class. It's a 6.5 foot tree that is covered in toys and action figure ornaments. It's a tree that once it's up and lit makes me happy to sit back and look at, but it's also bittersweet for me.
On December 22, 1990 I buried my Mother. The Cheese in My Cheesecake
On December 22, 2010 my divorce was final. As freeing as it was, it was still the end of the life I knew for 15 years.
This year, my kids will be with their Dad, my parents will be with my brother and I will be alone. It's hard to say how I will feel on Christmas morning. Most of me thinks I'll be just fine. Christmas Eve is usually spent in tradition with me making lasagna and the kids each opening one small gift before bed. I will still make lasagna, it'll just be a smaller pan. lol I have plans of sitting on the couch, with a good book and the Celtics game on my TV. Perhaps I'll rent a movie. See, really not much different than a regular Saturday for me. It's totally fine.
Yup.
Totally fine.
Mostly.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Dance with Me.......
My intentions were to sit down a pound out a blog last week, and then, well, that didn't happen. Thanksgiving sprung quick and then I stumbled face first into a fist I like to refer to as "Whatever-the-shit-this-is". Otherwise known as the flu.
The entire management team at work is sick, however the other two had not only a head cold, but the stomach flu as well. I have lucked out in that ball o' fun as of yet and am praying it passes over me. It started with Mom, then moved to Pops, but with his immune system being pretty much non existent he ended up in the hospital with pneumonia. It has now latched onto me and has been trying to kick my ass since last Friday. I'm stubborn though, and as hard as it kicks I kick that much harder. I'm not a martyr by any means. I'm stubborn out of necessity.
I don't have the time to be sick. I'm a Mom. Those of you who are Mothers will know that's reason enough. On top of which, I work at a place where if I don't work, I don't get paid. There is no holiday pay, no sick time. So, I don't work, I don't pay the bills. Not okay. If that means I sacrifice myself and my health then I do. Am I crazy about it? No. I rest when I can and am drinking plenty of fluids. I've had very little appetite and can't sleep so that sucks, but is not that far from normal. The appetite thing is, but I'm sure that will return to normal soon.
The other side of this of course is that I have a very hard time with 'idle'. I have Tuesday and Wednesday off this week and for most of today I did indeed stay in bed. I ran a couple of errands much to my bestie's chagrin, but I *had* to go to the bank today. How was I to know she was gonna surprise me with egg drop soup? lol I was gone when she got here and when I got back a very funny attempt at trying to take my keys away and steal my shoes was made. I needed the laugh. I haven't laughed in a minute and that's not okay either. By the time she left she had me swearing I wouldn't leave my house until I had to work on Thursday, to which I informed her that I had to teach Wednesday night. I then suggested we go to see Breaking Dawn tonight, to which she agreed and then informed me that I was a pain in the ass.
I cannot disagree with that. However, we did in fact go see Breaking Dawn tonight. I was rather disappointed in the lack of shirtless Jacob, and the score sucked, and they messed with the storyline BUT Jacob did say three of my favorite words ever, so it wasn't a total waste.
"Dance with me."
Those three words can take my breath away. Someone I love said those three very words to me a while ago, taking the air out of my lungs when I read them. He probably doesn't remember, but I do. I remember the night and where he was when he said it. I was at home, and he was on a train and it was the wee small hours of morning. He's not known to sleep much either, so that works in my favor. Anyway, I have it saved and the picture saved. I remember.
My response to him was, "Always."
We have yet to have that dance. When the time is right..............we will. :)
The entire management team at work is sick, however the other two had not only a head cold, but the stomach flu as well. I have lucked out in that ball o' fun as of yet and am praying it passes over me. It started with Mom, then moved to Pops, but with his immune system being pretty much non existent he ended up in the hospital with pneumonia. It has now latched onto me and has been trying to kick my ass since last Friday. I'm stubborn though, and as hard as it kicks I kick that much harder. I'm not a martyr by any means. I'm stubborn out of necessity.
I don't have the time to be sick. I'm a Mom. Those of you who are Mothers will know that's reason enough. On top of which, I work at a place where if I don't work, I don't get paid. There is no holiday pay, no sick time. So, I don't work, I don't pay the bills. Not okay. If that means I sacrifice myself and my health then I do. Am I crazy about it? No. I rest when I can and am drinking plenty of fluids. I've had very little appetite and can't sleep so that sucks, but is not that far from normal. The appetite thing is, but I'm sure that will return to normal soon.
The other side of this of course is that I have a very hard time with 'idle'. I have Tuesday and Wednesday off this week and for most of today I did indeed stay in bed. I ran a couple of errands much to my bestie's chagrin, but I *had* to go to the bank today. How was I to know she was gonna surprise me with egg drop soup? lol I was gone when she got here and when I got back a very funny attempt at trying to take my keys away and steal my shoes was made. I needed the laugh. I haven't laughed in a minute and that's not okay either. By the time she left she had me swearing I wouldn't leave my house until I had to work on Thursday, to which I informed her that I had to teach Wednesday night. I then suggested we go to see Breaking Dawn tonight, to which she agreed and then informed me that I was a pain in the ass.
I cannot disagree with that. However, we did in fact go see Breaking Dawn tonight. I was rather disappointed in the lack of shirtless Jacob, and the score sucked, and they messed with the storyline BUT Jacob did say three of my favorite words ever, so it wasn't a total waste.
"Dance with me."
Those three words can take my breath away. Someone I love said those three very words to me a while ago, taking the air out of my lungs when I read them. He probably doesn't remember, but I do. I remember the night and where he was when he said it. I was at home, and he was on a train and it was the wee small hours of morning. He's not known to sleep much either, so that works in my favor. Anyway, I have it saved and the picture saved. I remember.
My response to him was, "Always."
We have yet to have that dance. When the time is right..............we will. :)
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Confetti Tears...
This....
Okay, here's where I stand in this.
A) It must be said there isn't a better DJ than Cheapshot for this gig. That's just a fact. He's my favorite! One of the reasons being that he doesn't flip a frakkin song every 10 seconds. He actually let's you enjoy more than 3 notes into a song. Also, he's just fun! :)
Secondly) To see Boyz II Men is on my Bucket List. GAH!
Third ) It's not in Times Square. So, I won't freeze my ass off and there's a place to pee. Dude. My bladder is the size of a grain of rice and there's no way I would survive Times Square on NYE. You have to hold it for HOURS cause there's no where to pee yo!
And last but not least) The venues and huge arenas and massive tour of the 9 was fun, but always in honesty, I miss the 5. My favorite tour since this reunion began has been the CasiNO Tour. Why? Well....many reasons...but a big one is because of the intimacy of it. The connection to the audience is stronger. I just LOVE that.It *feels* more like family to me.
Since the tease of this possibility was thrown out into the universe I've been going in circles in my mind trying to make it work. Here is where I'm at in the thought process. Stay with me kids. lol
Here's what I foresee happening. I will buy a ticket and book my flight and will be forced with two choices. I must preface these choices by saying my co worker who took the GM position of the store last month is putting in her notice Dec 1st. Why? Because she moved to Iowa from Cali to go to school not run a Monkey Joes. She plans on having her last day be Dec 23rd. Which means it will be me and the other Assistant running the place during our busy season. I had the opportunity to take the GM position and decided against it because there's no health benefits where I work. This is a big concern for me, because since I have PKD it's difficult to get my own policy due to my pre-existing condition. If I go somewhere with a group plan it's a non-factor. Plus, this is not what I want to be doing for the rest of my life. It is not my chosen career. It puts food on my table. Period.
I LOVE kids. I LOVE being around them, but I'm a dancer and a dance teacher. My destiny is not in making pizzas, mopping floors and dragging a giant purple monkey around town. $10 an hour and no benefits isn't a wise career choice, but I'm a single Mom and I'm happy to have a job right now. I digress.
Back to the forseable choices.... I will buy a ticket to the concert, book my flight, and then either not be able to go, because I'll get stuck working, OR say fuck it and get on that plane and have no job when I get home. EVERY fiber of my being wants to be THERE in NYC for NYE. There is no where else I'd rather be at midnight than there....in that moment. My heart needs to be in that moment.
Sadly, my freakin head is in the way.
Because I am who I am.....I can't do it. My kids come first. To not have a job to come home to is unacceptable. I have plans I'm trying to make. Going to NYC for NYE will not allow me to afford to go to Boston in the spring like I plan on doing. Nor L.A. in late spring early summer. Nor will I be able to afford to go to Kentucky for my cousin's wedding OR back to NYC on a road trip with my kids and bestie. on top of which I'm still trying to move out east. There is SO much I want to do, and things I WILL do, and all of them require me to be responsible and smart.
So, you see...NYC for NYE is in my head swirling about. Like a tornado of anger! (That's a Kicking and Screaming reference. If you haven't seen that movie watch it with your kids. Will Ferrell is genius)
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be in the corner rocking back and forth and crying confetti tears.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Rabbit's Descriptive Essay....
The other night my daughter was working on her homework and I said, "Whatcha workin on Rabbit?"
"My person of interest descriptive essay," she said.
"What's it about?"
"You."
"Oh!"
She turned and asked me if I'd like to hear it when she was done.
When I am pulled in 8 different directions, my kids stop me in my tracks and remind me that I matter, if no one else...to them. And that in whatever decisions I have made and will make, I know I'm doing something right as a parent.
The essay....including outline....
"My person of interest descriptive essay," she said.
"What's it about?"
"You."
"Oh!"
She turned and asked me if I'd like to hear it when she was done.
When I am pulled in 8 different directions, my kids stop me in my tracks and remind me that I matter, if no one else...to them. And that in whatever decisions I have made and will make, I know I'm doing something right as a parent.
The essay....including outline....
Descriptive Essay
I. Introduction
a. My mommy’s name is Ann Marie, obviously.
b. She was born on September 15, 1974, in South Carolina.
c. On the Chinese zodiac, she’s a tiger (I think).
d. Her hair is black, short, and spikey, she has brown eyes, and is very talented.
e. Let me tell you about her talents.
II. Body
a. Best mommy ever
i. Loves and cares for my brother and I
ii. Sometimes she spoils me
iii. I can tell her anything and she’ll listen and give advice
b. Dancing
i. Has taught for more than 5 yrs.
ii. She has a specialty in hip-hop
iii. Likes to dance with me
c. Singing
i. Is very good at it
ii. Practices and records a lot
iii. Tried out for “ The Voice “
III. Conclusion
a. Well, those are my mommy’s talents!
b. Do you think she’s talented?
c. Well, I do and I’m very proud she’s my mommy.
d. You’re sort of jealous, right?
Ann Marie
My mommy’s name is Ann Marie, obviously. She was born on September 15, 1974, in South Carolina. On the Chinese zodiac, she’s a tiger (I think). Her hair is black, short, and spikey, her eyes are a dark brown, and she’s very talented. Let me tell you about some of her talents. J
What she does best is being the best mommy ever. She loves and cares about my brother and I unconditionally. Sometimes she spoils me, but that’s usually my grandma’s work. J Last but not least, I can tell her anything and she’ll listen and give me advice.
Another one of her talents is dancing. When we lived in Hudson, Wisconsin, she taught at a dance studio for more than 5 yrs. She’s also been great at all types of dance, but hip-hop is her specialty, believe it or not. Sometimes she’ll turn on music in the afternoon, and we’ll dance.
Last but not least, boy can she sing!!! Her voice is like an angel! She practices everyday whether or not it’s in the car or when she’s doing the dishes. When she likes a song, she’ll practice, record, and post it on you tube. There’s a show called “The Voice” that my mommy tried out for next season, but she didn’t make it. Those of you that have been to my house are surprised, I bet.
Well, those are my mommy’s talents! Do you think she’s talented? Well, I guess you can’t form an opinion until you have seen her do her thing herself. Anyway, I ‘m very glad she’s my mommy. You’re jealous, right?
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Inhale.....Exhale.....
I'm sitting propped up on my bed listening to the sound of the rain falling heavily outside, and the cars that splash by my house. It was a long day at work, and I was able to leave and get home in time to spend just a few minutes with my kids before their Dad picked them up for their scheduled weeknight with him. Handsome didn't want to go because he had gotten his report card today. It wasn't his best report card, but it wasn't his worst. He was fearful of his father's reaction, and understandably so. I digress...
This morning's report of Smokin' Joe Frazier was a sad one, then when I was leaving work I learned that Heavy D passed away today too! He was only 44 years old. SO young. My Mom died when she was only 42. It's sad to think that we are all getting older. I used to dance my ass off to Heavy D and the boys. "Now That We Found Love" was one of the favorite tracks me and my crew busted a move or two to. And by crew I mean me and my High School boyfriend Brian, and his friend Jeremy. Brian was an AMAZING artist and would airbrush all my shit. We used to call Jeremy "Z" because that's what his last name starts with. They were two white dudes who could dance and me. We'd rehearse in my driveway with my boombox blaring from the floor of the garage, and then perform at clubs around the city. then B and I broke up, and we all graduated and moved on. They both went to a different school than I did. As I sit and rack my brain, I for the life of me can't remember how we met. I *think* Z worked with my bestie back then at a Men's clothing store called JW. Her name is Jess, but she went by the nickname Mooch.
Ahhh Mooch. She earned that lovely nickname because she would indeed mooch money from people during lunch. lol I talk a little more about her in my blog
Beantown to Right Now...
Her, her husband and three boys live in Quincy, MA and I hope I get a chance to see them when I go back to Boston in the Spring. :) There is a trip I plan on taking in March and it involves my beloved #TeamIceCream girls Mel and Roxi. Rox is from MA, but lives in NC now, and she is always willing to go home. Mel has never been, and me? Well, for me....it's time for me to go back. A trip that is long overdue.
Mel and I are also planning a road trip to NYC next summer sometime. WITH our kids. The plan is to rent a vehicle big enough for all of us and hit the road. My son has asked me more than once in the last few weeks alone when I will take him because he *really* wants to go. My daughter on the other hand is a bit more apprehensive, but she's quite the worry wart so this is not unusual. We'll see what happens. I also have my cousin's wedding to go to in Kentucky next June......yup.....Louisville. That reference will only be understood by a few who read this. My cousin is from here but her and her fiance found a lovely estate to get married on, so that's where I will go to share in their joy!
Christmas will be quiet in my house this year as my kids will spend it with their Father and my rents will go to Georgia to spend it with my baby brother. I won't go with them because I won't be able to take that kind of time off from work. Retail hours and all. I have an open invitation to go to Mel's, but I'm thinking, me and a good book, a little Joe Mac on the mp3 and some hot chocolate will be how I want to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. I'll get my kids later that day and spend a little time with them. We'll see. No need to decide just yet.
New Years Eve might be spent doing the same thing. Who knows. Right now I have Michael Buble singing You and I so sweetly, and a perfect steak is calling my name. Even if my bestie is the only one who generally comments, I know she's not the only one who reads my posts and I take comfort in that. Of course we all know, I'd write them regardless. However, I've since discovered upon beginning this blogging journey, that I much prefer to blog when I feel inspired to do so.
When all is said and done, a lot more is said than done. I'm usually too busy "doing" that the saying becomes less of a priority. Taking the time to blog is a way for me to stop and just be. I like to think that you taking the time to read them is your way of stopping for just a moment to take a breath too. So what do you say to stopping and breathing together again soon? :)
This morning's report of Smokin' Joe Frazier was a sad one, then when I was leaving work I learned that Heavy D passed away today too! He was only 44 years old. SO young. My Mom died when she was only 42. It's sad to think that we are all getting older. I used to dance my ass off to Heavy D and the boys. "Now That We Found Love" was one of the favorite tracks me and my crew busted a move or two to. And by crew I mean me and my High School boyfriend Brian, and his friend Jeremy. Brian was an AMAZING artist and would airbrush all my shit. We used to call Jeremy "Z" because that's what his last name starts with. They were two white dudes who could dance and me. We'd rehearse in my driveway with my boombox blaring from the floor of the garage, and then perform at clubs around the city. then B and I broke up, and we all graduated and moved on. They both went to a different school than I did. As I sit and rack my brain, I for the life of me can't remember how we met. I *think* Z worked with my bestie back then at a Men's clothing store called JW. Her name is Jess, but she went by the nickname Mooch.
Ahhh Mooch. She earned that lovely nickname because she would indeed mooch money from people during lunch. lol I talk a little more about her in my blog
Beantown to Right Now...
Her, her husband and three boys live in Quincy, MA and I hope I get a chance to see them when I go back to Boston in the Spring. :) There is a trip I plan on taking in March and it involves my beloved #TeamIceCream girls Mel and Roxi. Rox is from MA, but lives in NC now, and she is always willing to go home. Mel has never been, and me? Well, for me....it's time for me to go back. A trip that is long overdue.
Mel and I are also planning a road trip to NYC next summer sometime. WITH our kids. The plan is to rent a vehicle big enough for all of us and hit the road. My son has asked me more than once in the last few weeks alone when I will take him because he *really* wants to go. My daughter on the other hand is a bit more apprehensive, but she's quite the worry wart so this is not unusual. We'll see what happens. I also have my cousin's wedding to go to in Kentucky next June......yup.....Louisville. That reference will only be understood by a few who read this. My cousin is from here but her and her fiance found a lovely estate to get married on, so that's where I will go to share in their joy!
Christmas will be quiet in my house this year as my kids will spend it with their Father and my rents will go to Georgia to spend it with my baby brother. I won't go with them because I won't be able to take that kind of time off from work. Retail hours and all. I have an open invitation to go to Mel's, but I'm thinking, me and a good book, a little Joe Mac on the mp3 and some hot chocolate will be how I want to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. I'll get my kids later that day and spend a little time with them. We'll see. No need to decide just yet.
New Years Eve might be spent doing the same thing. Who knows. Right now I have Michael Buble singing You and I so sweetly, and a perfect steak is calling my name. Even if my bestie is the only one who generally comments, I know she's not the only one who reads my posts and I take comfort in that. Of course we all know, I'd write them regardless. However, I've since discovered upon beginning this blogging journey, that I much prefer to blog when I feel inspired to do so.
When all is said and done, a lot more is said than done. I'm usually too busy "doing" that the saying becomes less of a priority. Taking the time to blog is a way for me to stop and just be. I like to think that you taking the time to read them is your way of stopping for just a moment to take a breath too. So what do you say to stopping and breathing together again soon? :)
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
The Balance of Struggle....
I realized this morning it's been a minute since I last blogged. So far I have epically failed in my self challenge. The beauty of that is it was a self challenge, so I make the rules for myself as I go along. lol
It's been a busy time for me with work and kids and their schoolwork and conferences and dealing with the ex and so forth. Throw in there, my sister being upset that I don't love her the way she wants me too and my bestie losing her sister in a house fire that her nephew set ( a result of PTSD) and it's been a helluva a couple of weeks emotionally. Life.
I like to keep busy and on the go. Staying busy keeps me sane. That may sound odd for some as they look at being busy as chaotic and rushed. For me, to fill my days with life is a beautiful thing and if I can contribute to this world in some way shape or form then I'm working on what I was meant to. There must be balance though. If you are so busy pursuing and working and spreading yourself too thin, not giving yourself a moment to breathe and be still, then eventually you will burn out and have nothing left to give but hostility and frustration.
I woke up this morning to the sound of rain and the realization that I had no where I need to be until I teach later this afternoon. I have my coffee, my laptop and my book. I have my Boyz II Men station softly playing as I take a few moments to just be. Speaking of Boyz II Men, I came across a blog written by Shawn Stockman, who I absolutely adore. There was a post about a typical day in his world and it was perfection to read.
http://www.accesshollywood.com/the-sing-off/shawn-stockmans-sing-off-blog-balancing-work-and-family_articletab_54971
The man not only does what he does, and is as busy as he is, but still manages to get up in the morning and make breakfast AND lunch for his kids. What?! I thought that men who do that were a myth. Even when I was married I was a single parent. Fact. I don't want to go into that because it's nothing I can change. It's the past but is also one of the reasons why I have such an amazing relationship with my kids now.
This past Monday, Halloween night, after a fun two hours just hanging out with my son as he handed out candy to the kids, he sat for a bit at the computer writing. He's a creative mind, and one of things he loves to do aside from singing and performing is write. Hmmm....where does he get that from? It's difficult to pull him away from the computer and get him to go to bed some nights. The conversation is usually me saying, "Handsome, it was time for bed like 15 minutes ago." To which he responds, "I know Mom. Can I just finish this paragraph?" I repeat the process again as 15 minutes past his bedtime turns into 45. I do not get angry at him however. Why would I ever try to snuff out his thought process in mid creative streak?
I understand how writers work. When they are on a roll, they write, because writers block can hit at any given moment and when they are inspired it has to get to paper. My children are both motivated creatively and I will do everything in my power to make sure to give them room to express themselves. It is important to me. Not only by encouraging them, but by setting an example for them , by pursuing my own dreams. To take chances and to have fun doing so, and never be afraid to express themselves. Through laughter, through tears and through the emotional teen years that they are entering. OY!
Right before he went to bed he watched this....
He was at my desk and I was laying on my bed reading. When it was over, he turned to face me and with tears in his eyes said, "Mom......thank you for making it safe for me to dream."
So I immediately started crying and he was crying and he came over to me, hugged me and said, "I love you SO much Mom."
I replied, "It's important to me that you feel safe enough to dream."
"Mom," he says, "This is a house of dreamers, and you make every day safe. I've told you my friends think you're the coolest Mom on the planet, but did you know, that fills me with pride? I'm proud and lucky to have you as my Mom."
I sent him off to bed and sat there, with silent tears, thanking God he gave me the kids I have. Thanking him for putting me through hell and for helping through my struggles. It is the balance of the every day struggle and making the every day also fun, that I can instill in my kids the strength and the courage to dream and to pursue those dreams with conviction.
P.s.- Thank you to my Lobster, who's own relationship with his mother has been a driving force in my relationship with my son. In the last 20+ years, you both have inspired me in ways you don't even know and every day I am so grateful to your Mom for raising you right. ALWAYS.......LOVE.
It's been a busy time for me with work and kids and their schoolwork and conferences and dealing with the ex and so forth. Throw in there, my sister being upset that I don't love her the way she wants me too and my bestie losing her sister in a house fire that her nephew set ( a result of PTSD) and it's been a helluva a couple of weeks emotionally. Life.
I like to keep busy and on the go. Staying busy keeps me sane. That may sound odd for some as they look at being busy as chaotic and rushed. For me, to fill my days with life is a beautiful thing and if I can contribute to this world in some way shape or form then I'm working on what I was meant to. There must be balance though. If you are so busy pursuing and working and spreading yourself too thin, not giving yourself a moment to breathe and be still, then eventually you will burn out and have nothing left to give but hostility and frustration.
I woke up this morning to the sound of rain and the realization that I had no where I need to be until I teach later this afternoon. I have my coffee, my laptop and my book. I have my Boyz II Men station softly playing as I take a few moments to just be. Speaking of Boyz II Men, I came across a blog written by Shawn Stockman, who I absolutely adore. There was a post about a typical day in his world and it was perfection to read.
http://www.accesshollywood.com/the-sing-off/shawn-stockmans-sing-off-blog-balancing-work-and-family_articletab_54971
The man not only does what he does, and is as busy as he is, but still manages to get up in the morning and make breakfast AND lunch for his kids. What?! I thought that men who do that were a myth. Even when I was married I was a single parent. Fact. I don't want to go into that because it's nothing I can change. It's the past but is also one of the reasons why I have such an amazing relationship with my kids now.
This past Monday, Halloween night, after a fun two hours just hanging out with my son as he handed out candy to the kids, he sat for a bit at the computer writing. He's a creative mind, and one of things he loves to do aside from singing and performing is write. Hmmm....where does he get that from? It's difficult to pull him away from the computer and get him to go to bed some nights. The conversation is usually me saying, "Handsome, it was time for bed like 15 minutes ago." To which he responds, "I know Mom. Can I just finish this paragraph?" I repeat the process again as 15 minutes past his bedtime turns into 45. I do not get angry at him however. Why would I ever try to snuff out his thought process in mid creative streak?
I understand how writers work. When they are on a roll, they write, because writers block can hit at any given moment and when they are inspired it has to get to paper. My children are both motivated creatively and I will do everything in my power to make sure to give them room to express themselves. It is important to me. Not only by encouraging them, but by setting an example for them , by pursuing my own dreams. To take chances and to have fun doing so, and never be afraid to express themselves. Through laughter, through tears and through the emotional teen years that they are entering. OY!
Right before he went to bed he watched this....
He was at my desk and I was laying on my bed reading. When it was over, he turned to face me and with tears in his eyes said, "Mom......thank you for making it safe for me to dream."
So I immediately started crying and he was crying and he came over to me, hugged me and said, "I love you SO much Mom."
I replied, "It's important to me that you feel safe enough to dream."
"Mom," he says, "This is a house of dreamers, and you make every day safe. I've told you my friends think you're the coolest Mom on the planet, but did you know, that fills me with pride? I'm proud and lucky to have you as my Mom."
I sent him off to bed and sat there, with silent tears, thanking God he gave me the kids I have. Thanking him for putting me through hell and for helping through my struggles. It is the balance of the every day struggle and making the every day also fun, that I can instill in my kids the strength and the courage to dream and to pursue those dreams with conviction.
P.s.- Thank you to my Lobster, who's own relationship with his mother has been a driving force in my relationship with my son. In the last 20+ years, you both have inspired me in ways you don't even know and every day I am so grateful to your Mom for raising you right. ALWAYS.......LOVE.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Ebb and Flow....
*blows raspberries*
I'm in a funk. Creatively, which means my entire being is in a funk. I hate it. Drives me crazy. Drives the people around me crazy, because I disappear. Poof. And when I do surface, I'm short and then I'm gone again. It's how I work. Rather than bring those I care about down, I revert to being introverted and work through it on my own. Again, drives people crazy. I think it's harder on my bestie than anyone, because she's a fixer and when I ask her to not try to "fix" it, I think she's left with feeling unwanted or not needed. Not the case of course, I just need to disengage for a day or two.
I started teaching my Adult Beginner Hip Hop and Advanced Hip Hop classes on Sunday night. One student showed up for my Beginner Class.........one. No one came to the Advanced Class. I knew it would be that way. I had *hoped* it wouldn't and that those who registered and showed interest, would actually come, but I knew better. This is Iowa after all. Whereas this is a great place to raise a family, it sucks the life out of someone who is creative. I've come to the conclusion, that if you want to be a doctor, lawyer, school teacher, or insurance agent this is the place to be! If you are a performing artist or live for a fine art of any kind, it's a place where your soul goes to die. Overly dramatic? Perhaps, but dude...you aren't here.
The monotony of the daily grind has gotten to me and I need to do something about it soon before I end up swimming in a toilet, swirling in a downward spiral of depression. I know that. I am someone who is VERY self-aware. I need an injection of LIFE! Most of the time I do the injecting, but when it comes to motivating myself, I kinda suck. lol I need to surround myself with like minded people. I need to either go to a dance convention and soak in the brilliance of trained dancers around me, or I need to go East or West and throw myself into classes. The problem of course lies in a few things. First of which not being able to take much time off from work. We're going into a busy season and time off requests are pretty much forbidden between the months of November and May.
The second problem I face is the guilt of leaving my kids. I told them the other day that there's a good chance that I may be going to L.A. in March because a friend of mine is holding a Master Class that I really want to take. Just so happens that the proceeds from his class will go to help promote a film that a friend of his is trying to get off the ground. I have a thing about underdogs. I will always run with them.
Anyway, my son says to me, " You always get to go to the cool places. One of these days it would be nice if you took us too. I mean, I REALLY want to go to NY and I REALLY want to go to L.A.. You want to move to NY, but I've never even been there. I want to at least go there before all that happens." Can't argue with that logic. So...I'm stuck in a rut, and *I* have to work through it. And I will. This will not last. It never does. I will kick myself in the ass and remind myself that it could be worse.....and it can always get better. ;)
Something my Mom said to me once and has stuck with me is, "What's the worst that could happen? Can you live with that? Then you're ok. If you can't, then you'll find a way to make it better. You always do."
So, although I am reverting to my introverted ways at the moment, it won't last. We are the creators of our own happiness. I just need to regroup and figure out what it is that needs to be done to ignite my soul again, and when I do, you'll know. It's an internal thing. My fight. With myself. It's the ebb and flow of who I am. I like to believe I'm not alone.
I'm gonna start by teaching an Adult Tap Class tomorrow night, and I'm bringing my daughter with me. I'd take my son too, but he's outgrown his tap shoes. If no one shows up to take the class, then I'll tap with *her* and that will make her happy, which in turn will make me happy. No sense in letting that beautiful space go waste. :)
I'm in a funk. Creatively, which means my entire being is in a funk. I hate it. Drives me crazy. Drives the people around me crazy, because I disappear. Poof. And when I do surface, I'm short and then I'm gone again. It's how I work. Rather than bring those I care about down, I revert to being introverted and work through it on my own. Again, drives people crazy. I think it's harder on my bestie than anyone, because she's a fixer and when I ask her to not try to "fix" it, I think she's left with feeling unwanted or not needed. Not the case of course, I just need to disengage for a day or two.
I started teaching my Adult Beginner Hip Hop and Advanced Hip Hop classes on Sunday night. One student showed up for my Beginner Class.........one. No one came to the Advanced Class. I knew it would be that way. I had *hoped* it wouldn't and that those who registered and showed interest, would actually come, but I knew better. This is Iowa after all. Whereas this is a great place to raise a family, it sucks the life out of someone who is creative. I've come to the conclusion, that if you want to be a doctor, lawyer, school teacher, or insurance agent this is the place to be! If you are a performing artist or live for a fine art of any kind, it's a place where your soul goes to die. Overly dramatic? Perhaps, but dude...you aren't here.
The monotony of the daily grind has gotten to me and I need to do something about it soon before I end up swimming in a toilet, swirling in a downward spiral of depression. I know that. I am someone who is VERY self-aware. I need an injection of LIFE! Most of the time I do the injecting, but when it comes to motivating myself, I kinda suck. lol I need to surround myself with like minded people. I need to either go to a dance convention and soak in the brilliance of trained dancers around me, or I need to go East or West and throw myself into classes. The problem of course lies in a few things. First of which not being able to take much time off from work. We're going into a busy season and time off requests are pretty much forbidden between the months of November and May.
The second problem I face is the guilt of leaving my kids. I told them the other day that there's a good chance that I may be going to L.A. in March because a friend of mine is holding a Master Class that I really want to take. Just so happens that the proceeds from his class will go to help promote a film that a friend of his is trying to get off the ground. I have a thing about underdogs. I will always run with them.
Anyway, my son says to me, " You always get to go to the cool places. One of these days it would be nice if you took us too. I mean, I REALLY want to go to NY and I REALLY want to go to L.A.. You want to move to NY, but I've never even been there. I want to at least go there before all that happens." Can't argue with that logic. So...I'm stuck in a rut, and *I* have to work through it. And I will. This will not last. It never does. I will kick myself in the ass and remind myself that it could be worse.....and it can always get better. ;)
Something my Mom said to me once and has stuck with me is, "What's the worst that could happen? Can you live with that? Then you're ok. If you can't, then you'll find a way to make it better. You always do."
So, although I am reverting to my introverted ways at the moment, it won't last. We are the creators of our own happiness. I just need to regroup and figure out what it is that needs to be done to ignite my soul again, and when I do, you'll know. It's an internal thing. My fight. With myself. It's the ebb and flow of who I am. I like to believe I'm not alone.
I'm gonna start by teaching an Adult Tap Class tomorrow night, and I'm bringing my daughter with me. I'd take my son too, but he's outgrown his tap shoes. If no one shows up to take the class, then I'll tap with *her* and that will make her happy, which in turn will make me happy. No sense in letting that beautiful space go waste. :)
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Dear Mel...
I pull up my Pandora page to listen to music as I type, and as I pull up my blog site the song Beautiful by Christina Aguilera begins to play which is quite perfect given the subject of today's blog.
Twenty one years ago today.....I met my best friend.
You'll read in a moment her recollection of our meeting, but for me I can tell you that upon meeting her I would have never known just how important to me she would become. Y.A.B.E. (Young Adult Beginning Experiences) Two teenage kids who made the choice to go on a weekend retreat to sort out the grief we were dealing with, her losing her Mother to cancer and my parents going through a divorce, followed by me losing my own Mother by the hands of another. Dark times. Very.....VERY......dark times.
I was SO shy. Still am to some degree. Oftentimes it is mistaken as aloof or standoffish, which is the complete opposite of what it is. So I was doing what I do. Sitting alone, and just watching. Absorbing all the activity around me as people who knew each other got reacquainted. SO nervous to be in a situation that was unknown, and to not really know anyone there, and she was the first person to approach me. We hit it off right away and twenty one years later, here we are. Closer than we have ever been.
There is something so profound about growing up with someone. You share in their joy, in their pain, their failures and their victories. Their struggle and their freedom. Through it all, including the time we were apart, she was ALWAYS with me. They say if you love something set it free, if it comes back to you, it was always yours, if it doesn't it was never meant to be. She came back to me, and I to her.
What She Deserves...
(There is only one other person I let go although not completely. He too was always with me. He came back to me, I will never let him go again).
Would you believe we have NO pictures of us together back then? I think that's why we take so many of us together now. :)
Dear Mel,
Who knew that 21 years ago you would be one of the most important people in my life? Crazy how our circumstances bonded us and our love of NKOTB solidified us. Even crazier that their parting of ways coincided with ours and their reunion coincided with ours. So many things about them are interwoven into what is us and I will forever be grateful for that. SO many things. But I need not say another word about that because you already know.
We help each other navigate the waters of life and when I needed a life preserver you pulled me out of the water before I drowned. Again, for that I will forever be grateful. Every day you give me a reason to stand strong and tall the way I was always meant to. Your undying belief in me is unmatched. Ever encouraging, albeit at times a bit *coughpushycough* is always backed by good intention.
Your humor and quick witted mind makes me laugh and keeps me challenged. It takes intelligence to have that kind of quick wit and I admire and respect your intelligence on so many levels.
We are, and forever will be... Siamese twins joined at the heart.
I love you dearly my sister and so thankful you were the brave soul who approached me at the hearth that day. You saw something in me others did not, including myself. Thank you for never letting me forget. It is a gift I do not take for granted.
*slides you that cakey flavored Vodka drink you like and picks up my big ass Coke with extra ice*
Here's to the next 21 years. May our love for those 5 guys stay as strong as it has for the last 21 years. ;) May our laughter fill the most crowded of rooms. May our light shine brighter than a million haters. May our friendship carry us into Shady Pines with grace and dignity. And if that doesn't work, let's just do what we do best.....kick that door down and make our presence known because the two of us together are unstoppable.
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY SIS! I LOVE YOU! CLINK!
Love,
Cheese~
Twenty one years ago today.....I met my best friend.
You'll read in a moment her recollection of our meeting, but for me I can tell you that upon meeting her I would have never known just how important to me she would become. Y.A.B.E. (Young Adult Beginning Experiences) Two teenage kids who made the choice to go on a weekend retreat to sort out the grief we were dealing with, her losing her Mother to cancer and my parents going through a divorce, followed by me losing my own Mother by the hands of another. Dark times. Very.....VERY......dark times.
I was SO shy. Still am to some degree. Oftentimes it is mistaken as aloof or standoffish, which is the complete opposite of what it is. So I was doing what I do. Sitting alone, and just watching. Absorbing all the activity around me as people who knew each other got reacquainted. SO nervous to be in a situation that was unknown, and to not really know anyone there, and she was the first person to approach me. We hit it off right away and twenty one years later, here we are. Closer than we have ever been.
There is something so profound about growing up with someone. You share in their joy, in their pain, their failures and their victories. Their struggle and their freedom. Through it all, including the time we were apart, she was ALWAYS with me. They say if you love something set it free, if it comes back to you, it was always yours, if it doesn't it was never meant to be. She came back to me, and I to her.
What She Deserves...
(There is only one other person I let go although not completely. He too was always with me. He came back to me, I will never let him go again).
Would you believe we have NO pictures of us together back then? I think that's why we take so many of us together now. :)
21 Years ago...
Dear Mel,
Who knew that 21 years ago you would be one of the most important people in my life? Crazy how our circumstances bonded us and our love of NKOTB solidified us. Even crazier that their parting of ways coincided with ours and their reunion coincided with ours. So many things about them are interwoven into what is us and I will forever be grateful for that. SO many things. But I need not say another word about that because you already know.
We help each other navigate the waters of life and when I needed a life preserver you pulled me out of the water before I drowned. Again, for that I will forever be grateful. Every day you give me a reason to stand strong and tall the way I was always meant to. Your undying belief in me is unmatched. Ever encouraging, albeit at times a bit *coughpushycough* is always backed by good intention.
Your humor and quick witted mind makes me laugh and keeps me challenged. It takes intelligence to have that kind of quick wit and I admire and respect your intelligence on so many levels.
We are, and forever will be... Siamese twins joined at the heart.
I love you dearly my sister and so thankful you were the brave soul who approached me at the hearth that day. You saw something in me others did not, including myself. Thank you for never letting me forget. It is a gift I do not take for granted.
*slides you that cakey flavored Vodka drink you like and picks up my big ass Coke with extra ice*
Here's to the next 21 years. May our love for those 5 guys stay as strong as it has for the last 21 years. ;) May our laughter fill the most crowded of rooms. May our light shine brighter than a million haters. May our friendship carry us into Shady Pines with grace and dignity. And if that doesn't work, let's just do what we do best.....kick that door down and make our presence known because the two of us together are unstoppable.
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY SIS! I LOVE YOU! CLINK!
Love,
Cheese~
Today...
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Until....
I haven't been feeling very Bloggy as of late. Stress has been on the menu for the last week or so. Coupled with PMS and well....not even french fries and a big ass Coke with extra ice, helped. Been a bit emo tonight and when my bestie asked me what was up, the conversation just went like this...
Mel: Why so emo Sugartush?
Me: Lonely.
Mel: *sigh* I'm sorry.
Me: *shrug* Is what it is.
Mel: Maybe you need to get back on the dating train. You don't have to marry anybody, but it couldn't hurt to try and go on a date.
Me: No thank you.
Mel: If you're lonely, why wouldn't you try to do something to fix that?
Me: Because boys are dumb. And I'm lonely in this moment. It will pass. Plus....I refuse to lower my standards. Also....I'm not a dater.
Mel: lol....okay...explain the "not a dater" part.
Me: I'm a relationship girl. I don't casually date. *shrug* I just don't. I'm not built that way.
Mel: ok. Understandable, but how do you get to the relationship without dating him?
Me: Let me clarify.....I won't date just anyone. It takes A LOT for me to go out with someone. A LOT.
Mel: I understand that, too. Just saying, nothing wrong with going out on a date with somebody. It's not marriage. It's a movie and dinner. I won't push. It's your call. It was just a suggestion. :)
Me: Thank you.
Mel: I just hate seeing you lonely. And you know me...I'm a fixer.
Me: Okay....you find me the all american boy next door who looks like Josh Duhamel and can dance and I'll go on a date. lol
Mel *tweets*: HA! Like that's a challenge. A real challenge is forty minutes with Google earth. This? Piece. Of. Cake.
Me: Please tell me you aren't referring to my last message.
Mel: That's EXACTLY what I was referring to.
Me: Okay...then I HAVE to add I will NOT go on a blind date.
Mel: Too bad. You already set your criteria. You can't change it now.
Me: The HELL I can't. Good luck with that kid.
Mel: So the guy has to randomly wander into your life?
Me: No...I didn't say that. Although that would be the best way. I said I won't go on a blind date. Might I remind you that your taste in men and my taste in men are vastly different. Who *you* may perceive to look like Josh Duhamel, *I* may think looks more like Gargamel.
Mel: Point taken. Insulted of course, but point taken.
Me: Stop. You know what I mean. I don't think the guys you are interested in look like Gargamel. Please don't take it that way.
Mel: Honey, who's your bouncer? Who helped you lay the foundation for NEVER settling again? Gimme some credit.
Me: This is true. I apologize.
Mel: Thank you. I forgive you.
Dear God in heaven help me if my bestie is in fact on a mission. She's a fixer. However, I'm not exactly of the mindset that "Until Mr. Right comes along there's always Mr. Right Now." I can't do it. I have never been and never will be that girl. The process of "finding myself" again has not changed that. I'm not a rebound chick. I got divorced almost a year ago. Separated long before that.....more than once. I can count on one hand how many guys I've dated in my entire life.
The sad part of it all, is every guy I meet will not hold a candle to the one I already want. Yeah, I know, that's not fair to whomever is out there, but it's the truth. *shrug* And it will remain that way until...well....until it doesn't.
Mel: Why so emo Sugartush?
Me: Lonely.
Mel: *sigh* I'm sorry.
Me: *shrug* Is what it is.
Mel: Maybe you need to get back on the dating train. You don't have to marry anybody, but it couldn't hurt to try and go on a date.
Me: No thank you.
Mel: If you're lonely, why wouldn't you try to do something to fix that?
Me: Because boys are dumb. And I'm lonely in this moment. It will pass. Plus....I refuse to lower my standards. Also....I'm not a dater.
Mel: lol....okay...explain the "not a dater" part.
Me: I'm a relationship girl. I don't casually date. *shrug* I just don't. I'm not built that way.
Mel: ok. Understandable, but how do you get to the relationship without dating him?
Me: Let me clarify.....I won't date just anyone. It takes A LOT for me to go out with someone. A LOT.
Mel: I understand that, too. Just saying, nothing wrong with going out on a date with somebody. It's not marriage. It's a movie and dinner. I won't push. It's your call. It was just a suggestion. :)
Me: Thank you.
Mel: I just hate seeing you lonely. And you know me...I'm a fixer.
Me: Okay....you find me the all american boy next door who looks like Josh Duhamel and can dance and I'll go on a date. lol
Mel *tweets*: HA! Like that's a challenge. A real challenge is forty minutes with Google earth. This? Piece. Of. Cake.
Me: Please tell me you aren't referring to my last message.
Mel: That's EXACTLY what I was referring to.
Me: Okay...then I HAVE to add I will NOT go on a blind date.
Mel: Too bad. You already set your criteria. You can't change it now.
Me: The HELL I can't. Good luck with that kid.
Mel: So the guy has to randomly wander into your life?
Me: No...I didn't say that. Although that would be the best way. I said I won't go on a blind date. Might I remind you that your taste in men and my taste in men are vastly different. Who *you* may perceive to look like Josh Duhamel, *I* may think looks more like Gargamel.
Mel: Point taken. Insulted of course, but point taken.
Me: Stop. You know what I mean. I don't think the guys you are interested in look like Gargamel. Please don't take it that way.
Mel: Honey, who's your bouncer? Who helped you lay the foundation for NEVER settling again? Gimme some credit.
Me: This is true. I apologize.
Mel: Thank you. I forgive you.
Dear God in heaven help me if my bestie is in fact on a mission. She's a fixer. However, I'm not exactly of the mindset that "Until Mr. Right comes along there's always Mr. Right Now." I can't do it. I have never been and never will be that girl. The process of "finding myself" again has not changed that. I'm not a rebound chick. I got divorced almost a year ago. Separated long before that.....more than once. I can count on one hand how many guys I've dated in my entire life.
The sad part of it all, is every guy I meet will not hold a candle to the one I already want. Yeah, I know, that's not fair to whomever is out there, but it's the truth. *shrug* And it will remain that way until...well....until it doesn't.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
The Stubborn German with an Irish Temper...
I slept like shit last night. Yes I realize it seems like a redundant thing to say as I don't tend to sleep all that much. However, I actually went to bed last night with the intention to sleep as I had two 10 hour work days ahead of me. That process failed. lol I tossed and turned the entire night. And when Rabbit walked into my room 15 minutes before Jordan was supposed to "doodle" (BH's will know what that means), I was already in a bad mood. Then, 15 minutes later I get a text from my son asking me to pick him up from his friend's house, so I flew out of bed, brushed my teeth, put my bra on and a ball cap and out the door I went.
Came home, fixed Rabbit a bowl of cereal and got ready for work. Found Handsome in his room laying under blankets watching TV, NOT cleaning his room. He wasn't feeling so hot. I told him to take it easy and let Gma know if he needed anything. I kissed and hugged Rabbit goodbye and out the door I went. As I'm driving to work, she texts me wanting to know if she can go to the community center with her friends. I call her and tell her that's fine as long as she leaves a note for Gma and tells her brother where she's going. This is the note she ended up leaving.....
She's so frakkin cute.
Moving on...
Within the first 20 minutes of arriving at work, we had two bloody noses and two kids who threw up, not to mention a jump that went down. Yup. Definitely a Saturday at work. I had long before that fixed my mood by Gibb's slapping the back of my *own* head, so I was prepared to roll with whatever the day was gonna throw at me. I had noticed a missed call from my Mom, but thought it was kid related and really didn't think much of it. Thinking that maybe Rabbit had forgotten to write the note, and since we were so busy at work I figured I'd just call her on my break. If it were an emergency surely she would call the store directly.
So when I sat down to eat my salad and called her, I wasn't expecting her to tell me she was sitting in the hospital because Pops had been admitted. She then informed me that they had left the house sometime after midnight, unbeknown to me, to go the hospital because he was having chest pains. Shockingly she told me that shortly after arriving there in the wee small hours of morning he was already telling the doctors that he had a blockage and they needed to open it up. The man has spent his entire life barking orders at people, the doctors had no chance of escape.
He was right of course, which *really* made the doctors like him *that* much more as a patient. OY!
Pops has had 6 heart attacks in his life.....that we're aware of. The first of which was when he was just 33 years old. He is now 60. Today they ended up putting in 2 more stents....for a grand total of 5 he now has. He's had 3 bypass surgeries, and currently has an ICD in place as well. Add that to his kidney transplant two years ago and the man is a walking Frankenstein.
Looks like he may be released by Tuesday but with his fragile health condition they want to play it by ear. I find it rather ironic that my bestie just posted THIS blog the other day... http://mellysramblings.blogspot.com/2011_10_01_archive.html
I am beyond blessed to be surrounded by the people in my life that have offered their thoughts and prayers for me and my family today. The fact that they would take the time out of their busy lives to do just that humbles me to no end. If you are reading this.....Thank You.
The man is an old fashioned Air Force vet and very set in his ways. Good luck to the next man I get serious about. Here's a hint....talk to him about airplanes or fishing and you're IN. Just don't try to make him think you know more than he does about airplanes, because, well....you might as well just shoot yourself in the foot. The man is not only a trained pilot, but an engineer by trade with boxes of airplane parts and a an unfinished airplane he was in the process of building. It's a Cozy something rather. A two-seater I think. I don't know much about them, but the frakkin parts boxes are all over the basement.
Not sure he ever has any intention of actually finishing it. I think it makes him sad to think he couldn't actually fly it if he did because of his health. Makes *me* sad. It was a dream of his that will never be realized.
He's rough around the edges and oftentimes I wanna punch him square in the face for being such an ass, but...he has taught me some of the most important things a Father could teach a daughter. Especially since he was stuck with 3 girls and no boys. I have soaked in his knowledge throughout the years and am who I am in large part because of him. He's a stubborn German with an Irish temper that he lovingly passed on to me....along with his craptastic kidneys. I am convinced, that it is *because* of these traits he still has a few years left to bark more than a few more orders at anyone who crosses his path. :)
Came home, fixed Rabbit a bowl of cereal and got ready for work. Found Handsome in his room laying under blankets watching TV, NOT cleaning his room. He wasn't feeling so hot. I told him to take it easy and let Gma know if he needed anything. I kissed and hugged Rabbit goodbye and out the door I went. As I'm driving to work, she texts me wanting to know if she can go to the community center with her friends. I call her and tell her that's fine as long as she leaves a note for Gma and tells her brother where she's going. This is the note she ended up leaving.....
She's so frakkin cute.
Moving on...
Within the first 20 minutes of arriving at work, we had two bloody noses and two kids who threw up, not to mention a jump that went down. Yup. Definitely a Saturday at work. I had long before that fixed my mood by Gibb's slapping the back of my *own* head, so I was prepared to roll with whatever the day was gonna throw at me. I had noticed a missed call from my Mom, but thought it was kid related and really didn't think much of it. Thinking that maybe Rabbit had forgotten to write the note, and since we were so busy at work I figured I'd just call her on my break. If it were an emergency surely she would call the store directly.
So when I sat down to eat my salad and called her, I wasn't expecting her to tell me she was sitting in the hospital because Pops had been admitted. She then informed me that they had left the house sometime after midnight, unbeknown to me, to go the hospital because he was having chest pains. Shockingly she told me that shortly after arriving there in the wee small hours of morning he was already telling the doctors that he had a blockage and they needed to open it up. The man has spent his entire life barking orders at people, the doctors had no chance of escape.
He was right of course, which *really* made the doctors like him *that* much more as a patient. OY!
Pops has had 6 heart attacks in his life.....that we're aware of. The first of which was when he was just 33 years old. He is now 60. Today they ended up putting in 2 more stents....for a grand total of 5 he now has. He's had 3 bypass surgeries, and currently has an ICD in place as well. Add that to his kidney transplant two years ago and the man is a walking Frankenstein.
Looks like he may be released by Tuesday but with his fragile health condition they want to play it by ear. I find it rather ironic that my bestie just posted THIS blog the other day... http://mellysramblings.blogspot.com/2011_10_01_archive.html
I am beyond blessed to be surrounded by the people in my life that have offered their thoughts and prayers for me and my family today. The fact that they would take the time out of their busy lives to do just that humbles me to no end. If you are reading this.....Thank You.
The man is an old fashioned Air Force vet and very set in his ways. Good luck to the next man I get serious about. Here's a hint....talk to him about airplanes or fishing and you're IN. Just don't try to make him think you know more than he does about airplanes, because, well....you might as well just shoot yourself in the foot. The man is not only a trained pilot, but an engineer by trade with boxes of airplane parts and a an unfinished airplane he was in the process of building. It's a Cozy something rather. A two-seater I think. I don't know much about them, but the frakkin parts boxes are all over the basement.
Not sure he ever has any intention of actually finishing it. I think it makes him sad to think he couldn't actually fly it if he did because of his health. Makes *me* sad. It was a dream of his that will never be realized.
He's rough around the edges and oftentimes I wanna punch him square in the face for being such an ass, but...he has taught me some of the most important things a Father could teach a daughter. Especially since he was stuck with 3 girls and no boys. I have soaked in his knowledge throughout the years and am who I am in large part because of him. He's a stubborn German with an Irish temper that he lovingly passed on to me....along with his craptastic kidneys. I am convinced, that it is *because* of these traits he still has a few years left to bark more than a few more orders at anyone who crosses his path. :)
Friday, October 7, 2011
Showtime...
Sitting at my desk drumming my fingers and trying to figure out what I wanted to blog about tonight, I decided to pull out "The Binder". I've been writing a book over the years. I stopped a while back having a bout of writers block and then ultimately.....relationship block. It's been sitting on my bookshelf collecting dust. I pulled it off the shelf with the idea I would maybe share an excerpt in here.
As I was flipping through the binder, looking at some typed pages and some hand written pages, I came across an odd journal entry. Back in the day, I never really kept a journal so I thought it was part of my book til I read the page a little further. So, tonight I'll share a piece of my life when I was younger and my aspirations of becoming a serious actress were still fresh and untainted. It's not dated, but I'm fairly certain it was sometime after I was married and after my son was born. Otherwise known as my mid 20's.
I think there are people who struggle their whole lives trying to figure out what it is they want to be or what to do with themselves. Then there are those who know precisely what they want to be and pursue their vocation ruthlessly until they accomplish what it is they set out to do. Whether it be doctors, or lawyers, firefighters, nurses, animal trainers and circus folk.
Then there are people like me, who start out knowing EXACTLY what they want to do and change their minds several times along the way. Seemingly achieving little, but doing a LOT.
It has been said that I was born with a mic in my hand and that I was dancing in the womb. it's true that I have known at a very young age that I wanted to perform. I've been told at various times throughout the years that I have the talent. What I lack is the belief in myself. I think actors in general are rather insecure. There is a deep need to express ourselves and be heard and accepted and loved. And when there's work, the money's good, but it is not our driving force. Ever. Which if you're lucky enough to be with someone who understands that and is as like-minded as you, you truly are one of the lucky ones. Mine is a constant battle of "real job" vs "hobby". I digress...
The industry is exploding with people who are screaming, "Pick me, choose me, see me, love me." Alarmingly most of the women in this line of work have been sucked into thinking that talent accounts for very little and if you're young, anorexic and plastic you're the next "It" girl.
Speaking as an actress who takes her craft seriously, I will say, "I hate you." Okay, not really. And not YOU specifically, but rather society and the impossible pressures put upon those of us who are bigger than a size 6. I was a size 6 once....maybe twice. I currently reside somewhere in the vicinity of a size 10/12, with the right to float up to a 14 or down to an 8 if something tragic happens in my life. No telling what the future holds but the past definitely holds a lot of it.
In general the size of my clothes isn't an issue. Most people would agree I'm of average size. It's only when I go in to an audition that I run into a problem. Either I'm "too ethnic" looking or "not ethnic enough". I stand at 5'8" and have thick jet black hair that I keep pixie short. I have olive skin. I am half Filipino, a quarter German and a quarter Irish. How on earth I can look "not ethnic enough" is beyond me. My favorite though is when I get called in and they're looking for "real people". It is then that I'm told that I'm "too pretty". Great so maybe if I could send my lower half in for a separate audition and plaster a "real" face to my upper half. Seriously, it's enough to make me give up acting. Not really, but I'm *this* close.
Do they have "ass" auditions? Is there such a thing? I have a pretty great ass, if I do say so myself. How do I check in for something like that? I imagine the "thespian" perched behind the desk taking names when you go in to audition. And by "thespian", I mean Julie the waitress who poured my coffee two days ago, but doesn't recognize me because she's in "thespian" mode now and is somehow better than me because she's behind the desk.
"Yes, and who do we have here?"
"Ummm...Ann Marie Thomas' ass."
"Thank you. You can just fill out this form, bring it up when you're done and we'll get a shot of the plumpness of your gluteus maximus."
What kind of pictures would I need? I'd need to start carrying around "ass shots" along with my "head shots".
At the moment I'm sitting in Lee's casting office waiting to audition for a Taco commercial. Frankly I think this ad concept was thought up by two interns working late into the night hopped up on no sleep, Red Bull and Doritos. The office itself is quite cozy. One desk with a computer and phone. A fan lazily swishes back and forth. The room is small and the carpet worn. I'm sitting next to two people who I think will beat me out for this part. They look "real".
I'm up next. Wish me luck. Okay, you can't because I'm talking to myself, but if there were someone who cared how I did in my audition, or really, anything that I did, I'd want them to wish me luck. Why? Because I would do the same for them. I'm going now, and if I have to wear a stupid costume I will, because it's work, and I will get paid, and then maybe my husband will be supportive because it will mean it's an actual job and not just a hobby that won't go anywhere but is something fun to do in your spare time after your 'real' job.....Alright...a girl can dream.
Showtime.
As I was flipping through the binder, looking at some typed pages and some hand written pages, I came across an odd journal entry. Back in the day, I never really kept a journal so I thought it was part of my book til I read the page a little further. So, tonight I'll share a piece of my life when I was younger and my aspirations of becoming a serious actress were still fresh and untainted. It's not dated, but I'm fairly certain it was sometime after I was married and after my son was born. Otherwise known as my mid 20's.
I think there are people who struggle their whole lives trying to figure out what it is they want to be or what to do with themselves. Then there are those who know precisely what they want to be and pursue their vocation ruthlessly until they accomplish what it is they set out to do. Whether it be doctors, or lawyers, firefighters, nurses, animal trainers and circus folk.
Then there are people like me, who start out knowing EXACTLY what they want to do and change their minds several times along the way. Seemingly achieving little, but doing a LOT.
It has been said that I was born with a mic in my hand and that I was dancing in the womb. it's true that I have known at a very young age that I wanted to perform. I've been told at various times throughout the years that I have the talent. What I lack is the belief in myself. I think actors in general are rather insecure. There is a deep need to express ourselves and be heard and accepted and loved. And when there's work, the money's good, but it is not our driving force. Ever. Which if you're lucky enough to be with someone who understands that and is as like-minded as you, you truly are one of the lucky ones. Mine is a constant battle of "real job" vs "hobby". I digress...
The industry is exploding with people who are screaming, "Pick me, choose me, see me, love me." Alarmingly most of the women in this line of work have been sucked into thinking that talent accounts for very little and if you're young, anorexic and plastic you're the next "It" girl.
Speaking as an actress who takes her craft seriously, I will say, "I hate you." Okay, not really. And not YOU specifically, but rather society and the impossible pressures put upon those of us who are bigger than a size 6. I was a size 6 once....maybe twice. I currently reside somewhere in the vicinity of a size 10/12, with the right to float up to a 14 or down to an 8 if something tragic happens in my life. No telling what the future holds but the past definitely holds a lot of it.
In general the size of my clothes isn't an issue. Most people would agree I'm of average size. It's only when I go in to an audition that I run into a problem. Either I'm "too ethnic" looking or "not ethnic enough". I stand at 5'8" and have thick jet black hair that I keep pixie short. I have olive skin. I am half Filipino, a quarter German and a quarter Irish. How on earth I can look "not ethnic enough" is beyond me. My favorite though is when I get called in and they're looking for "real people". It is then that I'm told that I'm "too pretty". Great so maybe if I could send my lower half in for a separate audition and plaster a "real" face to my upper half. Seriously, it's enough to make me give up acting. Not really, but I'm *this* close.
Do they have "ass" auditions? Is there such a thing? I have a pretty great ass, if I do say so myself. How do I check in for something like that? I imagine the "thespian" perched behind the desk taking names when you go in to audition. And by "thespian", I mean Julie the waitress who poured my coffee two days ago, but doesn't recognize me because she's in "thespian" mode now and is somehow better than me because she's behind the desk.
"Yes, and who do we have here?"
"Ummm...Ann Marie Thomas' ass."
"Thank you. You can just fill out this form, bring it up when you're done and we'll get a shot of the plumpness of your gluteus maximus."
What kind of pictures would I need? I'd need to start carrying around "ass shots" along with my "head shots".
At the moment I'm sitting in Lee's casting office waiting to audition for a Taco commercial. Frankly I think this ad concept was thought up by two interns working late into the night hopped up on no sleep, Red Bull and Doritos. The office itself is quite cozy. One desk with a computer and phone. A fan lazily swishes back and forth. The room is small and the carpet worn. I'm sitting next to two people who I think will beat me out for this part. They look "real".
I'm up next. Wish me luck. Okay, you can't because I'm talking to myself, but if there were someone who cared how I did in my audition, or really, anything that I did, I'd want them to wish me luck. Why? Because I would do the same for them. I'm going now, and if I have to wear a stupid costume I will, because it's work, and I will get paid, and then maybe my husband will be supportive because it will mean it's an actual job and not just a hobby that won't go anywhere but is something fun to do in your spare time after your 'real' job.....Alright...a girl can dream.
Showtime.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
My Love Story WILL Be...
Not too long ago I was sitting at my bestie's house and we were watching movies and eating junk food. I had rented For Colored Girls and Burlesque the night before and brought them over. Hindsight we should have watched For Colored Girls first because we could've used the pick me up Burlesque surely would've provided. Not to say that For Colored Girls was bad. On the contrary, it was quite good! Just intense and at times difficult to watch. I can safely say that it is the only movie I've ever had to close my eyes during a certain scene, and even hearing it made me cry.
Burlesque was cute! I loved Cher, thought Christina did a good job and ADORE Stanley Tucci! There was a part in the movie where Christina's character finally ends up with the "nice guy" and there's scene we watched which initiated this conversation...
Me: I want that. That never happens of course, but I want it.I
Mel: Yes it does.
Me: No it doesn't.
Mel: Yes it does.
Me: Not like that, with THAT.
Mel: Oh, well...
Me: I want THAT.
Mel: But what specifically?
It wasn't until tonight that I realized what "specifically" was. I want a guy who is not afraid to go after me and pursue me regardless of what anyone else thinks. I want the mistakes and the sacrifices and the giving up and letting go and the detours and heartache only to realize that in the end they were always meant to be together.
I want the passion and live out loud kind of LOVE. I want a guy who will love me for ME, flaws and all. I want a guy like Noah...and I won't settle for anything less, because to ME, that's how love should be.
Burlesque was cute! I loved Cher, thought Christina did a good job and ADORE Stanley Tucci! There was a part in the movie where Christina's character finally ends up with the "nice guy" and there's scene we watched which initiated this conversation...
Me: I want that. That never happens of course, but I want it.I
Mel: Yes it does.
Me: No it doesn't.
Mel: Yes it does.
Me: Not like that, with THAT.
Mel: Oh, well...
Me: I want THAT.
Mel: But what specifically?
It wasn't until tonight that I realized what "specifically" was. I want a guy who is not afraid to go after me and pursue me regardless of what anyone else thinks. I want the mistakes and the sacrifices and the giving up and letting go and the detours and heartache only to realize that in the end they were always meant to be together.
I want the passion and live out loud kind of LOVE. I want a guy who will love me for ME, flaws and all. I want a guy like Noah...and I won't settle for anything less, because to ME, that's how love should be.
P.s.- If he could also look like Ryan Gosling I'd totally be okay with that. Or.... my Lobster. #justsayin
Monday, October 3, 2011
Bruised but not Broken....
I love my car. It fits me. It's a sport red Chevy HHR. Stands for Heritage High Roof for those who were wondering. It's design stems from the 1950's model. Seems a quirky choice for me, but I'm an old soul so...
It needs new tires and realigning in a bad way, but that's just cause people keep....hitting....me.
It also needs repair to the front end because people keep.....hitting.....me.
Also, there's a small dent in the lift gate because someone.....hit...me.
You know what would be swell? Is if people STOPPED HITTING ME!
Last year around this time, for those new to this little blog of mine, I was working myself into the ground with three jobs. One of those jobs was throwin papes in the wee small hours of the morning. I would get up and get my kids off to school, go to work at a Middle School where I made sure that the kids didn't kill each other at lunch and during recess. I would go home, change and kiss my kids, then go work for four hours or so as a music vendor. I would then come home, kiss my kids goodnight after they were already in bed and then take a nap for 3 hours. At which point I would then get up and go do my route. Come home, sleep for 45 minutes and start my day all over again.
I actually didn't mind the job so much. The pay sucked ass, but it kept me busy during a time I didn't want to think or feel anything. Surviving was all I could manage to do as I went through my divorce. The Winter months sucked physically but I'm a sexy bitch in Carhartt. I may have accidentally scared a few old people in a nursing home as I went in to deliver their morning paper donned in all black and forgetting to take my ski mask off, but that's neither here nor there.
I may have also stopped in someones yard and taken a a turn or two on the tire swing in the front yard at 3AM in the same aforementioned attire, but again, that's not the focus of this blog, nor is the family of deer I befriended. Moving on...
I would often drive a bit, park my car and then hoof it for a block or two. Sometimes, I would pull into a driveway and hit that house and the houses on either side then get back in my car and carry on. It was usually so quiet on this particular street so I didn't think anything of it when I parked my car in the same driveway I usually do. I walked across the street, turned back around, opened the door to my car to get in, and had one leg inside just as this big ass truck backed up and without paying attention flew into me.
Because I have ninja like reflexes I jumped and rolled out of the way, but my poor car got it's front end clocked and pushed out into the street. Drunk ass McGillicutty didn't have insurance, so....my car still has a battle wound and the only thing I walked away with thank the Goddesses was a bruised ass.
The dent in the lift gate I discovered after coming out of Walmart one night. It's the perfect size and shape and in the perfect spot where a truck, say with a trailer hitch would back into my car.
But.....I still love her and I will drive her until she's dead. She is reliable and gets me where I need to go, and oftentimes on adventures filled with Shenanigans, with my bestie. She may be a bit banged up and a little bruised, but she is not broken, and in so many ways.....is me.
It needs new tires and realigning in a bad way, but that's just cause people keep....hitting....me.
It also needs repair to the front end because people keep.....hitting.....me.
Also, there's a small dent in the lift gate because someone.....hit...me.
You know what would be swell? Is if people STOPPED HITTING ME!
Last year around this time, for those new to this little blog of mine, I was working myself into the ground with three jobs. One of those jobs was throwin papes in the wee small hours of the morning. I would get up and get my kids off to school, go to work at a Middle School where I made sure that the kids didn't kill each other at lunch and during recess. I would go home, change and kiss my kids, then go work for four hours or so as a music vendor. I would then come home, kiss my kids goodnight after they were already in bed and then take a nap for 3 hours. At which point I would then get up and go do my route. Come home, sleep for 45 minutes and start my day all over again.
I actually didn't mind the job so much. The pay sucked ass, but it kept me busy during a time I didn't want to think or feel anything. Surviving was all I could manage to do as I went through my divorce. The Winter months sucked physically but I'm a sexy bitch in Carhartt. I may have accidentally scared a few old people in a nursing home as I went in to deliver their morning paper donned in all black and forgetting to take my ski mask off, but that's neither here nor there.
I may have also stopped in someones yard and taken a a turn or two on the tire swing in the front yard at 3AM in the same aforementioned attire, but again, that's not the focus of this blog, nor is the family of deer I befriended. Moving on...
I would often drive a bit, park my car and then hoof it for a block or two. Sometimes, I would pull into a driveway and hit that house and the houses on either side then get back in my car and carry on. It was usually so quiet on this particular street so I didn't think anything of it when I parked my car in the same driveway I usually do. I walked across the street, turned back around, opened the door to my car to get in, and had one leg inside just as this big ass truck backed up and without paying attention flew into me.
Because I have ninja like reflexes I jumped and rolled out of the way, but my poor car got it's front end clocked and pushed out into the street. Drunk ass McGillicutty didn't have insurance, so....my car still has a battle wound and the only thing I walked away with thank the Goddesses was a bruised ass.
The dent in the lift gate I discovered after coming out of Walmart one night. It's the perfect size and shape and in the perfect spot where a truck, say with a trailer hitch would back into my car.
But.....I still love her and I will drive her until she's dead. She is reliable and gets me where I need to go, and oftentimes on adventures filled with Shenanigans, with my bestie. She may be a bit banged up and a little bruised, but she is not broken, and in so many ways.....is me.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
One New Perception...
I came to a realization last night while sitting and closing down the store and the thought process carried on while I drove home.
I quit....
...trying to explain myself to people who are not interested in listening.
...trying to live up to others expectations.
...thinking that I am less than.
...thinking that I am only the sum of my mistakes.
...thinking that if I don't have the affection of a man tomorrow, then I will wither away to nothing.
...living in doubt and constant fear.
I will never be...
...easy.
...fake.
...perfect.
I will always be....
...strong.
...talented.
...smart.
...funny.
...worth getting to know.
...beautiful.
...hard working.
...human.
...worth the time.
...patient.
...a good Mom.
...a fighter.
...a good teacher.
...trustworthy.
...loyal.
...honest.
...loving.
...giving.
...real.
...worthy of love.
...worth the wait.
I am not limited by the words I write in my blogs or in my texts or in my tweets. You will not know the *whole* me until you *know* me. Sometimes you have to QUIT being what you were to START being everything you ARE...
I quit....
...trying to explain myself to people who are not interested in listening.
...trying to live up to others expectations.
...thinking that I am less than.
...thinking that I am only the sum of my mistakes.
...thinking that if I don't have the affection of a man tomorrow, then I will wither away to nothing.
...living in doubt and constant fear.
I will never be...
...easy.
...fake.
...perfect.
I will always be....
...strong.
...talented.
...smart.
...funny.
...worth getting to know.
...beautiful.
...hard working.
...human.
...worth the time.
...patient.
...a good Mom.
...a fighter.
...a good teacher.
...trustworthy.
...loyal.
...honest.
...loving.
...giving.
...real.
...worthy of love.
...worth the wait.
I am not limited by the words I write in my blogs or in my texts or in my tweets. You will not know the *whole* me until you *know* me. Sometimes you have to QUIT being what you were to START being everything you ARE...
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Thursday....
Today...remember that you were put on this earth for a reason, for however long or short and breathe deep knowing you are okay. If you woke up....you're already a step ahead.
Help anyone who may need it in whatever way they may need it. Giving shouldn't be a designated day. It should be something we do continuously without expectation.
Answer questions with patience and understanding. We are all here to learn from one another. If we had all the answers there would be no reason to form relationships. When one learns, one must then teach. Ignorance leads to hate.
Not assume anything about anyone. Keeping an open mind and a willing heart allows for beautiful experiences. We are all different and yet......not.
Keep moving forward. Some days the road will wind to the right and sometimes to the left. Sometimes it even leads you in a circle to start back at one, but only when there is a lesson to be learned. Once you have learned the lesson, the road will straighten itself back out and you can carry on. Pay attention to the signs. They are there for a reason. To help guide your intuition.
Feel more......think less.
Use the gifts you have been given. Your talent is God's gift to you. What you do with it is your gift to God.
LOVE.
Help anyone who may need it in whatever way they may need it. Giving shouldn't be a designated day. It should be something we do continuously without expectation.
Answer questions with patience and understanding. We are all here to learn from one another. If we had all the answers there would be no reason to form relationships. When one learns, one must then teach. Ignorance leads to hate.
Not assume anything about anyone. Keeping an open mind and a willing heart allows for beautiful experiences. We are all different and yet......not.
Keep moving forward. Some days the road will wind to the right and sometimes to the left. Sometimes it even leads you in a circle to start back at one, but only when there is a lesson to be learned. Once you have learned the lesson, the road will straighten itself back out and you can carry on. Pay attention to the signs. They are there for a reason. To help guide your intuition.
Feel more......think less.
Use the gifts you have been given. Your talent is God's gift to you. What you do with it is your gift to God.
LOVE.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
When Life was....
When I was a little girl I liked to make mud pies. We had an alley behind my childhood house where I liked to get muddy and dig up worms. We didn't have a fence, but we had a row of peony bushes that separated our enormous yard from the alley. I LOVED the smell of those pink bushes but I did NOT like the ants required to keep them.
In the rear right hand corner of our yard stood a large pussy willow tree that I often liked to climb in with a book and sit and read. In front of that sat our garden where I'd help my Mom and Dad plant things and pick the beans when they were ready. Behind the house, sat a little red and white shed where my bike and the lawn mower was, and where we'd hide during games of hide and seek. Behind the shed was the clothesline we never used.
If I close my eyes I can still see the cracks in the pavement where we parked our car. I can hear the creaking of the heavy screen door on the side of the house as I open it and step inside to hang my coat up on the wall mount. You stepped into the house and could either go down the stairs to the basement where the washer and dryer were, along with the "family room" and my Dad's workshop where I built model airplanes. My eyes still closed, I can feel the cool painted concrete under my feet, and smell the familiar scent of dryer sheets and the metal of the tools. There was a fireplace that didn't work, but we hung our Christmas stockings from it. To this day I can't hear "I Can't Go For That" by Hall and Oates without thinking of that basement. Crazy how things like that attach themselves to our memories.
Back up the stairs, standing on the little platform you go up a stair into the tiny little kitchen. Our small round table sat in the left hand corner of the house between two windows. One, on the left and one on the front of the house. That was the window Pops would set a small black and white TV in the sill at Halloween and on the screen would be a pumpkin flashing. Courtesy of our fantastic Commodore 64. lol
That kitchen is where I learned to cook Filipino food by watching my Mom cook. She also loved to fry Spam and it was always served over a bed of steamed jasmine rice. OR we'd have roast beef hash, fried and served over rice. They were staples in our house. It's also where I learned how to make candy and lasagna from my Dad by watching him cook every Christmas. He would make divinity and peanut brittle and sugar cookies. We still have lasagna every Christmas Eve, only now I make it. He no longer makes cookies and candy but we still have the well loved cookbooks if I ever decide to pick it up again.
If you walked past the kitchen sink on your left, and go around the stove on your right, passing the wall phone with the 60 foot cord all wound around itself, you'd be in a small hallway. Turn left and you're in the living room with the only air conditioning unit in the house. That was where we all camped out and waited for the premier of Thriller. I can smell the air conditioner and hear the sound of the dial as my Dad turned it on.
If you didn't go into the living room, there was a door on your right that led upstairs to the loft-like bedroom my sisters and I shared (See Sleep is for Amateurs). I *still* know exactly each spot you had to perfectly place your foot so the stair wouldn't creek if you were sneaking downstairs to get a snack. I can still feel the railing that you had to hold onto to go up the creaky stairs.
If you went forward instead of going up the stairs you could then take a few steps and either go right into the den or as my Mom called it the "sewing room". Behind the door to that room was a floor vent where I would sit and get dressed over in the mornings during the Winter because I was ALWAYS cold. Sometimes I would sit with my pajama shirt pulled over my knees and let the hot air get trapped like a balloon. lol THEN I would put my uniform on. Back out into the hall and down the other way, the only bathroom was on the right and just at the end of the hall was my parents bedroom.
It's crazy to me that I can remember every detail of that house, every scent, and every sound. It was a time in my life where everything was right as rain. When life was.......simple. ;)
In the rear right hand corner of our yard stood a large pussy willow tree that I often liked to climb in with a book and sit and read. In front of that sat our garden where I'd help my Mom and Dad plant things and pick the beans when they were ready. Behind the house, sat a little red and white shed where my bike and the lawn mower was, and where we'd hide during games of hide and seek. Behind the shed was the clothesline we never used.
If I close my eyes I can still see the cracks in the pavement where we parked our car. I can hear the creaking of the heavy screen door on the side of the house as I open it and step inside to hang my coat up on the wall mount. You stepped into the house and could either go down the stairs to the basement where the washer and dryer were, along with the "family room" and my Dad's workshop where I built model airplanes. My eyes still closed, I can feel the cool painted concrete under my feet, and smell the familiar scent of dryer sheets and the metal of the tools. There was a fireplace that didn't work, but we hung our Christmas stockings from it. To this day I can't hear "I Can't Go For That" by Hall and Oates without thinking of that basement. Crazy how things like that attach themselves to our memories.
Back up the stairs, standing on the little platform you go up a stair into the tiny little kitchen. Our small round table sat in the left hand corner of the house between two windows. One, on the left and one on the front of the house. That was the window Pops would set a small black and white TV in the sill at Halloween and on the screen would be a pumpkin flashing. Courtesy of our fantastic Commodore 64. lol
That kitchen is where I learned to cook Filipino food by watching my Mom cook. She also loved to fry Spam and it was always served over a bed of steamed jasmine rice. OR we'd have roast beef hash, fried and served over rice. They were staples in our house. It's also where I learned how to make candy and lasagna from my Dad by watching him cook every Christmas. He would make divinity and peanut brittle and sugar cookies. We still have lasagna every Christmas Eve, only now I make it. He no longer makes cookies and candy but we still have the well loved cookbooks if I ever decide to pick it up again.
If you walked past the kitchen sink on your left, and go around the stove on your right, passing the wall phone with the 60 foot cord all wound around itself, you'd be in a small hallway. Turn left and you're in the living room with the only air conditioning unit in the house. That was where we all camped out and waited for the premier of Thriller. I can smell the air conditioner and hear the sound of the dial as my Dad turned it on.
If you didn't go into the living room, there was a door on your right that led upstairs to the loft-like bedroom my sisters and I shared (See Sleep is for Amateurs). I *still* know exactly each spot you had to perfectly place your foot so the stair wouldn't creek if you were sneaking downstairs to get a snack. I can still feel the railing that you had to hold onto to go up the creaky stairs.
If you went forward instead of going up the stairs you could then take a few steps and either go right into the den or as my Mom called it the "sewing room". Behind the door to that room was a floor vent where I would sit and get dressed over in the mornings during the Winter because I was ALWAYS cold. Sometimes I would sit with my pajama shirt pulled over my knees and let the hot air get trapped like a balloon. lol THEN I would put my uniform on. Back out into the hall and down the other way, the only bathroom was on the right and just at the end of the hall was my parents bedroom.
It's crazy to me that I can remember every detail of that house, every scent, and every sound. It was a time in my life where everything was right as rain. When life was.......simple. ;)
CHEESE!!!!!!!! lol toldja
Monday, September 26, 2011
The Sweet Intangible...
Two blog topics tonight. First.... about my beliefs on the intangible. My tweet numbers hit 88,888 tonight, which got me thinking about the significance of the number 8 which then got me thinking about how my Mom was superstitious. She was one of those people who carried a rabbit's foot key chain. There are many superstitions in the Filipino culture that she grew up with and although I am not quite the extremist she was, I do have a strong belief in the intangible. I'm also a realist which is slightly contradicting. lol
I may love to jump into a world of 'pretend' (a phrase coined by my bestie when talking about her writing) it can't be helped, I'm a dreamer. *shrug* It's in my genetic makeup. Believe me when I tell you my feet are firmly planted on the ground. I think to be able to have both, not only makes life more exciting, but it gives hope to situations where it seems there isn't any. Someone had mentioned the other day after reading about me and PKD that they had no idea and Mel said, "That's because she's really good at downplaying all the bad shit in her life." There are far too many in this world worse off than I am, for me to dwell on the bad shit.
While I have the freedom to make my own choices and decisions, I also think that in the end there is a reason for everything that happens. I believe in symbols, I believe in fate, I believe in timing, I believe in soulmates, I believe in true love and I believe....
Moving on to my second topic of the night.....my nicknames. lol I got into a discussion tonight with a friend about one of the names I answer to, which led me to tell him about another which led me to think that there may not be people who know the reason behind them. So, here goes....
Mel has called me Cheese from the moment I met her. Her reasons are different then why others call me that. I was "dubbed" that nickname many many moons ago because of the one who I have always been told I am most like in personality. (For the record...it has never been Cheez. Ever.) He's a bit more stubborn than I am though. *raising eyebrow* Which is hard, because I'm pretty frakkin stubborn. It's totally fine. I sing better. ;p lol
The reasons others call me by that name is because it was shortened from Cheesecake. I have a LOVE for this delectable dessert. Also, when I was little I had a tendency to mug for the camera. When I walked across the stage to get my diploma you could hear my entire family yell CHEEEESSSSSEEECAAAKKKEE!!!! Comedy. My family thought Mel just shortened it to Cheese, we didn't feel the need to explain otherwise. lol
I also go by A.M.....for obvious reasons. It's easier then saying Ann Marie. People get my name wrong all the time anyway. They call me Emery, Emily, or Mary Ann. Sometimes Avery. *smh* There's no 'E' at the end of Ann and it's not hyphenated. I answer to Ann but NEVER call me Annie or I'll punch you in the winky wheels. #justsayin
I will also answer to Dancer.......but my Lobster is the only one who calls me that.....coming from anyone else it just doesn't sound quite as sweet. ;)
I may love to jump into a world of 'pretend' (a phrase coined by my bestie when talking about her writing) it can't be helped, I'm a dreamer. *shrug* It's in my genetic makeup. Believe me when I tell you my feet are firmly planted on the ground. I think to be able to have both, not only makes life more exciting, but it gives hope to situations where it seems there isn't any. Someone had mentioned the other day after reading about me and PKD that they had no idea and Mel said, "That's because she's really good at downplaying all the bad shit in her life." There are far too many in this world worse off than I am, for me to dwell on the bad shit.
Moving on to my second topic of the night.....my nicknames. lol I got into a discussion tonight with a friend about one of the names I answer to, which led me to tell him about another which led me to think that there may not be people who know the reason behind them. So, here goes....
Mel has called me Cheese from the moment I met her. Her reasons are different then why others call me that. I was "dubbed" that nickname many many moons ago because of the one who I have always been told I am most like in personality. (For the record...it has never been Cheez. Ever.) He's a bit more stubborn than I am though. *raising eyebrow* Which is hard, because I'm pretty frakkin stubborn. It's totally fine. I sing better. ;p lol
The reasons others call me by that name is because it was shortened from Cheesecake. I have a LOVE for this delectable dessert. Also, when I was little I had a tendency to mug for the camera. When I walked across the stage to get my diploma you could hear my entire family yell CHEEEESSSSSEEECAAAKKKEE!!!! Comedy. My family thought Mel just shortened it to Cheese, we didn't feel the need to explain otherwise. lol
I also go by A.M.....for obvious reasons. It's easier then saying Ann Marie. People get my name wrong all the time anyway. They call me Emery, Emily, or Mary Ann. Sometimes Avery. *smh* There's no 'E' at the end of Ann and it's not hyphenated. I answer to Ann but NEVER call me Annie or I'll punch you in the winky wheels. #justsayin
I will also answer to Dancer.......but my Lobster is the only one who calls me that.....coming from anyone else it just doesn't sound quite as sweet. ;)
Saturday, September 24, 2011
SCREAM....
It started around 5p.m. last night and I haven't been able to shake it. Have you ever just wanted to punch something? That's kinda where I'm at right now.....in this moment. Well, this moment has lasted a few hours but in the grand scheme of things is still just a moment.
I know it will pass. It always does. I'm not angry. I'm frustrated. I don't get angry very often, which I think isn't always necessarily a good thing. Anger can be a good release when channeled properly. If you bury it, it can spring up and punch you in the face. Then, you make bad choices, and say the wrong things. I haven't done anyone of that lately, thank the Goddesses, but for some reason I find myself in quite a mood. OY!
I had a fitful night's rest. Shocking, I know. Crawled into bed not long after my date night with my TV, and started to read Good Girls Don't by Victoria Dahl. Mel loaned it to me. Wanna know how far I got? 13 whole pages in before I gave up. I was not in a good mind frame to try and connect to anything.
I'm in a "I wanna run away from home" frame of mind. The few moments I take for myself seem selfish to me. In reality they aren't. I just spoke of this the other day. They are a MUST. You cannot give anything to anyone else if you have not taken care of yourself first. I think part of it, is I am frustrated creatively. I'm frustrated because I feel like I have no one to vent to. I'm frustrated that I can't seem to make myself slow down. I'm frustrated that I have to go to work in a bit. I'm frustrated at being alone. I'm frustrated that I'm lonely. I'm frustrated that the last date I had was........can't even tell you when. I'm frustrated at people talking shit about me. I'm frustrated at being a single Mom. I'm frustrated that I feel like I have to censor myself because I'll offend someone or hear about it from someone else. I'm frustrated because I'm too nice and apparently that's a bad thing to be these days. and I'm frustrated because the second I show any other emotion other that sunshine and rainbows I get criticized for not being one dimensional.
I don't need anyone to "fix" it, I just need to vent.
One of the things that being in YABE taught me is, feelings aren't right or wrong they just "are". So right now, in this moment, I'm feeling FRUSTRATED!!!!!!!!
Don't worry, it won't last. I'll go back to being Mary Poppins eventually, but now I'm going to go cry in the shower because I'm not in a place where I can .....
I know it will pass. It always does. I'm not angry. I'm frustrated. I don't get angry very often, which I think isn't always necessarily a good thing. Anger can be a good release when channeled properly. If you bury it, it can spring up and punch you in the face. Then, you make bad choices, and say the wrong things. I haven't done anyone of that lately, thank the Goddesses, but for some reason I find myself in quite a mood. OY!
I had a fitful night's rest. Shocking, I know. Crawled into bed not long after my date night with my TV, and started to read Good Girls Don't by Victoria Dahl. Mel loaned it to me. Wanna know how far I got? 13 whole pages in before I gave up. I was not in a good mind frame to try and connect to anything.
I'm in a "I wanna run away from home" frame of mind. The few moments I take for myself seem selfish to me. In reality they aren't. I just spoke of this the other day. They are a MUST. You cannot give anything to anyone else if you have not taken care of yourself first. I think part of it, is I am frustrated creatively. I'm frustrated because I feel like I have no one to vent to. I'm frustrated that I can't seem to make myself slow down. I'm frustrated that I have to go to work in a bit. I'm frustrated at being alone. I'm frustrated that I'm lonely. I'm frustrated that the last date I had was........can't even tell you when. I'm frustrated at people talking shit about me. I'm frustrated at being a single Mom. I'm frustrated that I feel like I have to censor myself because I'll offend someone or hear about it from someone else. I'm frustrated because I'm too nice and apparently that's a bad thing to be these days. and I'm frustrated because the second I show any other emotion other that sunshine and rainbows I get criticized for not being one dimensional.
I don't need anyone to "fix" it, I just need to vent.
One of the things that being in YABE taught me is, feelings aren't right or wrong they just "are". So right now, in this moment, I'm feeling FRUSTRATED!!!!!!!!
Don't worry, it won't last. I'll go back to being Mary Poppins eventually, but now I'm going to go cry in the shower because I'm not in a place where I can .....
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Watering Roots with LOVE...
I had today off which was a good thing, as I haven't been feeling so hot since Sunday. I rarely get sick and I don't make a very good patient. I have the opposite behavior of the typical "big baby" when I do get sick. I have a tendency to be in denial. Being sick means slowing down, and I'm a bit stubborn when it comes to that.
I spent my morning doing laundry and cleaning the kitchen and then decided that perhaps I should for once in my stubborn ass life take a moment for myself and just BE. So, I lit a candle in my room, turned Pandora on the computer, made a cup of hot tea and picked up a book I keep trying to finish. Believe it or not I finally finished the damn thing a little while ago. Not without getting sidetracked a few times though.
I think that is part of having a creative mind. Always thinking, always creating. Ideas always tumbling around. As I closed the book after the last page and sat still for a few moments just breathing and listening to the sound of the piano playing in the background, I took in my moment of Zen and realized I don't take enough time for myself. I think that may be true for a lot of us.
We go through life at a hurried pace, moving from one thing to the next like stepping stones. Oftentimes with our head down and off to the grind, like a hamster on a wheel, failing to stop, to take a breath and be thankful for the moment. Or we're too busy thinking about what HAS to be done before it's "too late". It's hard to take a step back and realize what HAS to be done sometimes is simply just to BE. If you are so busy with your head down just trying to "get through" the day and at the end of it you haven't seen or heard one thing that moves you, brings you joy, brings others joy, or makes you think, then what is it you have actually accomplished? It simply adds and builds to your level of stress. When you reach a breaking point....your decision making skills suffer. The way you treat others and consequently yourself suffers.
I speak from experience. Both from the standpoint of adding to anothers stress and from being on the receiving end of someone adding to mine. It is in the quiet moments of zen that we reflect and admit our wrongs, pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and carry on.
If you don't take a moment for yourself every now and then, you will have nothing left to give anyone else. Don't think of that as being selfish, think of that as contributing to to your Giving Tree. You have to water the soil in order for it to grow. To try and grow without tending to the roots is impossible. Think of your soul and your spirit and your heart as the roots. Water them.....often. Fertilize them (why do I hear my besite's laughter as I type that word?) by surrounding yourself with those who lift you up. Who shine light on you with LOVE and encouragement. Cut out the weeds. AKA Those who bring you down. Those who discourage you from trying. Those who discourage you from loving.
Even if you have to get out of your OWN way sometimes.
Moving through this world with the idea that it is only Black or White will cause you to miss out on a world full of color. I, for one, choose to live in a world full of color. You get back what you put in. It is ALWAYS about the journey. Do not be afraid to fail. Learn from your mistakes and move forward without regret.
Just don't take people for granted. EVERYone has bad moments, sometimes bad days. It simply means we're human. Besides, what was the quote? Oh yes, "Perfect people aren't very interesting."
And for cripes sake STOP, BREATHE, and for a moment- or 8 minutes a week ;)- simply BE.
I spent my morning doing laundry and cleaning the kitchen and then decided that perhaps I should for once in my stubborn ass life take a moment for myself and just BE. So, I lit a candle in my room, turned Pandora on the computer, made a cup of hot tea and picked up a book I keep trying to finish. Believe it or not I finally finished the damn thing a little while ago. Not without getting sidetracked a few times though.
I think that is part of having a creative mind. Always thinking, always creating. Ideas always tumbling around. As I closed the book after the last page and sat still for a few moments just breathing and listening to the sound of the piano playing in the background, I took in my moment of Zen and realized I don't take enough time for myself. I think that may be true for a lot of us.
We go through life at a hurried pace, moving from one thing to the next like stepping stones. Oftentimes with our head down and off to the grind, like a hamster on a wheel, failing to stop, to take a breath and be thankful for the moment. Or we're too busy thinking about what HAS to be done before it's "too late". It's hard to take a step back and realize what HAS to be done sometimes is simply just to BE. If you are so busy with your head down just trying to "get through" the day and at the end of it you haven't seen or heard one thing that moves you, brings you joy, brings others joy, or makes you think, then what is it you have actually accomplished? It simply adds and builds to your level of stress. When you reach a breaking point....your decision making skills suffer. The way you treat others and consequently yourself suffers.
I speak from experience. Both from the standpoint of adding to anothers stress and from being on the receiving end of someone adding to mine. It is in the quiet moments of zen that we reflect and admit our wrongs, pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and carry on.
If you don't take a moment for yourself every now and then, you will have nothing left to give anyone else. Don't think of that as being selfish, think of that as contributing to to your Giving Tree. You have to water the soil in order for it to grow. To try and grow without tending to the roots is impossible. Think of your soul and your spirit and your heart as the roots. Water them.....often. Fertilize them (why do I hear my besite's laughter as I type that word?) by surrounding yourself with those who lift you up. Who shine light on you with LOVE and encouragement. Cut out the weeds. AKA Those who bring you down. Those who discourage you from trying. Those who discourage you from loving.
Even if you have to get out of your OWN way sometimes.
Moving through this world with the idea that it is only Black or White will cause you to miss out on a world full of color. I, for one, choose to live in a world full of color. You get back what you put in. It is ALWAYS about the journey. Do not be afraid to fail. Learn from your mistakes and move forward without regret.
Just don't take people for granted. EVERYone has bad moments, sometimes bad days. It simply means we're human. Besides, what was the quote? Oh yes, "Perfect people aren't very interesting."
And for cripes sake STOP, BREATHE, and for a moment- or 8 minutes a week ;)- simply BE.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Today...
I spent most of Today off of Twitter. Finding that when I woke up I really had very little to contribute to that particular world. I got lost in my continuing Psych marathon and was quite content in laying in my bed laughing. It was a much needed reprieve from my reality.
Then I took my kids out to lunch and just enjoyed being near them. Enjoyed being "present" in their lives. Came back home so they could get ready to go to their Dad's for the weekend. After they left, I watched two more epi's of Psych then took a 20 minute "nap" in preparation for the rest of my evening. 10 minutes into my 20 minute nap I got up and got into the shower, too restless to sleep.
My birthday was this past Thursday and we kicked off the celebration by going out for an evening of Karaoke Wednesday night. We each sang one song, then Mel lost her patience waiting for another turn at the mic so we left and went to IHop. On my actual birthday I worked, came home and flew into Mommy mode. Cleaned my bathroom and made dinner for the kids.
My bestie and I went to dinner tonight, where I enjoyed a lovely steak, and great conversation then went to the "club" we normally go to so we could hit the floor. I suspect she went to appease me, as she loves to dance but hates clubs. I love her for going with and for me.
It is now 3:25 A.M. and in a few hours we will be on our merry way to the Annual Walk for PKD. I am in complete awe of those who not only took the time to help me spread awareness but by the supreme generosity of those who were able to donate. Especially when someone donated an odd amount leading us to the conclusion she donated everything she had left in her account. :*) I am SO humbled and SO moved. Our little team of two has raised over 44% of the city's goal...10x's the amount my team raised last year. All I can say is thank you. THANK you. THANK YOU.
Even in the stress of this last week, I have found time to lose myself and give my mind a bit of a reprieve. I have covered a lot of ground, literally, at work and by walking tomorrow....errr...Today. I have spent time being "present" for my children. I have spent time with my bestie which always restores my spirit. She is the yang to my yin. The snark and impatience that counters my calm and patience. ;) And I had a chance to hit the floor and dance which is where I am most at home. Now? Now I'm gonna eat this here ravioli my bestie just made and carb up to get me through these next few hours.
Then I took my kids out to lunch and just enjoyed being near them. Enjoyed being "present" in their lives. Came back home so they could get ready to go to their Dad's for the weekend. After they left, I watched two more epi's of Psych then took a 20 minute "nap" in preparation for the rest of my evening. 10 minutes into my 20 minute nap I got up and got into the shower, too restless to sleep.
My birthday was this past Thursday and we kicked off the celebration by going out for an evening of Karaoke Wednesday night. We each sang one song, then Mel lost her patience waiting for another turn at the mic so we left and went to IHop. On my actual birthday I worked, came home and flew into Mommy mode. Cleaned my bathroom and made dinner for the kids.
My bestie and I went to dinner tonight, where I enjoyed a lovely steak, and great conversation then went to the "club" we normally go to so we could hit the floor. I suspect she went to appease me, as she loves to dance but hates clubs. I love her for going with and for me.
It is now 3:25 A.M. and in a few hours we will be on our merry way to the Annual Walk for PKD. I am in complete awe of those who not only took the time to help me spread awareness but by the supreme generosity of those who were able to donate. Especially when someone donated an odd amount leading us to the conclusion she donated everything she had left in her account. :*) I am SO humbled and SO moved. Our little team of two has raised over 44% of the city's goal...10x's the amount my team raised last year. All I can say is thank you. THANK you. THANK YOU.
Even in the stress of this last week, I have found time to lose myself and give my mind a bit of a reprieve. I have covered a lot of ground, literally, at work and by walking tomorrow....errr...Today. I have spent time being "present" for my children. I have spent time with my bestie which always restores my spirit. She is the yang to my yin. The snark and impatience that counters my calm and patience. ;) And I had a chance to hit the floor and dance which is where I am most at home. Now? Now I'm gonna eat this here ravioli my bestie just made and carb up to get me through these next few hours.
Friday, September 16, 2011
A Bar of Soap...
Do you ever hold on to something only to feel it constantly slipping out of your hands like a bar of soap? You have a good grasp on it, know it to be true and right and strong and yet it somehow you lose control of it, it goes flying out of your hand and just before it hits the ground you catch it?
I had a chat this morning with my bestie, who declared today to be NO PANTS day. I opted out. Too chilly. I'm a freeze baby. After my blackberry lost the cal TWICE, I gave up and retreated into my head to process a few things. I have been feeling a sense of urgency about certain things as of late. That if, whatever, doesn't happen in the immediate future that it never will.
After our conversation, I realized, that because my focus has been heavily rooted in spreading awareness and seeking donations for PKD (thanks to the supreme genorisity of a dear friend of mine, we have surpassed my TEAM goal of $1500) that the idea of my mortality has been at the forefront of my thoughts. My sense of urgency has to do with me feeling like I'm running out of time. My hope and belief is that my need for a transplant is years down the road. The reality is because there is no cure, and although I am doing what I can to manage it, I cannot completely control it and the cysts could start multiplying at a quicker rate and my creatnine level could go from a 1.9 to a 5 in a short period of time.
Who knows. I don't *choose* to believe that, and I could conceivably get hit by a car today and die from some random accident. What I *do* know is that I tend to brood about this around this time of year when it is such a heavy focus.
Most of the time, I'm fine. I go about my life just trying to do the best I can and EVERY day trying to be a better me than the day before. I realize that I cannot control others behavior or thoughts. I can only control mine. I spoke in a blog or two back about how when I have done something wrong I ALWAYS want to try and fix it. That there is only so much I can do, and if someone doesn't give you a chance to right your wrong, then you may have to let it....and them, go. The soap has slipped out of my hands and I'm watching it fly through the air in slow motion. Either I'll catch it before it hits the ground and place it safely back where it belongs, or....I'll stop trying to hold onto the notion that I'm a bar soap girl and have to switch to a liquid dispenser. OR.....option C....
Some of you will completely understand this analogy and for some it will confuse the shit out of you. lol Think of a bar of soap as fun. It gets wet and it slips out of your hands and you try to catch it but it's wily and all you can do is laugh....well.....not if you're an inmate. Think of a liquid dispenser as being controlled, not fun, just sits there. Now, apply the same logic when talking about people.
I'm deciphering the "code" for you so there's nothing cryptic. I have a tendency to use a lot of analogies. I think that comes from being a teacher and wanting people to be able to relate to what I'm saying. Often times, the visual helps.
In a few days time I will shake this feeling that I'm going to die tomorrow from this disease and that I will have run out of time to get it right. And by "it" I mean my life.
So, for now, because I made the mistake of getting it wet, I'll let that bar of soap fly and sail where it's going to and if it hits the ground and slides before I can catch it, so be it. It has to stop eventually. When it does, I will pick it up and put it back where it's meant to be. Even if it means just leaving it for decoration.
I had a chat this morning with my bestie, who declared today to be NO PANTS day. I opted out. Too chilly. I'm a freeze baby. After my blackberry lost the cal TWICE, I gave up and retreated into my head to process a few things. I have been feeling a sense of urgency about certain things as of late. That if, whatever, doesn't happen in the immediate future that it never will.
After our conversation, I realized, that because my focus has been heavily rooted in spreading awareness and seeking donations for PKD (thanks to the supreme genorisity of a dear friend of mine, we have surpassed my TEAM goal of $1500) that the idea of my mortality has been at the forefront of my thoughts. My sense of urgency has to do with me feeling like I'm running out of time. My hope and belief is that my need for a transplant is years down the road. The reality is because there is no cure, and although I am doing what I can to manage it, I cannot completely control it and the cysts could start multiplying at a quicker rate and my creatnine level could go from a 1.9 to a 5 in a short period of time.
Who knows. I don't *choose* to believe that, and I could conceivably get hit by a car today and die from some random accident. What I *do* know is that I tend to brood about this around this time of year when it is such a heavy focus.
Most of the time, I'm fine. I go about my life just trying to do the best I can and EVERY day trying to be a better me than the day before. I realize that I cannot control others behavior or thoughts. I can only control mine. I spoke in a blog or two back about how when I have done something wrong I ALWAYS want to try and fix it. That there is only so much I can do, and if someone doesn't give you a chance to right your wrong, then you may have to let it....and them, go. The soap has slipped out of my hands and I'm watching it fly through the air in slow motion. Either I'll catch it before it hits the ground and place it safely back where it belongs, or....I'll stop trying to hold onto the notion that I'm a bar soap girl and have to switch to a liquid dispenser. OR.....option C....
Some of you will completely understand this analogy and for some it will confuse the shit out of you. lol Think of a bar of soap as fun. It gets wet and it slips out of your hands and you try to catch it but it's wily and all you can do is laugh....well.....not if you're an inmate. Think of a liquid dispenser as being controlled, not fun, just sits there. Now, apply the same logic when talking about people.
I'm deciphering the "code" for you so there's nothing cryptic. I have a tendency to use a lot of analogies. I think that comes from being a teacher and wanting people to be able to relate to what I'm saying. Often times, the visual helps.
In a few days time I will shake this feeling that I'm going to die tomorrow from this disease and that I will have run out of time to get it right. And by "it" I mean my life.
So, for now, because I made the mistake of getting it wet, I'll let that bar of soap fly and sail where it's going to and if it hits the ground and slides before I can catch it, so be it. It has to stop eventually. When it does, I will pick it up and put it back where it's meant to be. Even if it means just leaving it for decoration.
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