To think of her in the silence,
head in hand,
eyes fixed on nothing,
the light changes,
ordinary door frames glint with star spasms,
like looking at Christmas tree lights in a dark room.
The water burns,
submerged in salt,
a thrill sting,
a tickle in my nose
gratitude smacking with desperation of longing.
The miles are so far,
the phone so static,
so plastic.
Not at all like her smile.
Unless she's being sarcastic,
pure plastic and I find more joy there,
camaraderie in a world of strangers.
The lack of sounds invite laughter,
previous moments where I cross my legs hard,
beg her to stop,
a jug of gatorade for a dry spell -
dehydration always a result of good times,
whether party or puke fest,
take your pic,
we do.
She is my respite,
sun on a cloudy day,
reason of nonsense,
horse always fighting my cart.
In a moment like that one,
this one just now passed,
I see her face in the door frame.
She sparkles as always,
sipping red gatorade between
upturned cornered lips,
her brown bangs frame the perfect picture of my home.
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Thursday, October 27, 2011
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Emily
So....
I have like five seconds.
I have so much to say and absolutely no time....
Ugh the story of my life.
My best friend lost her dear friend last night, another death to deal with - my heart weighs heavy that I cannot hug her.
Distance sucks.
My poet is in over drive - all I want to do is write poetry and catalog every moment of my life,
cause yeah it's fleeting and it's all so beautiful - even the shit.
But alas, I sew red hearts for my Halloween costume, neglect my studies and continue to rub swollen eyes that never get enough shut.
And, like today, go to work and feel like I am wasting precious time on something less important than my thoughts and the other zillion demands I will not meet.
I feel very Emily Dickinson lately - the Emily in me wants to recluse up in my bedroom and write poems - stanza after stanza, accounts of what was, what is and what will or will not ever be.
If only I could go unnoticed in hiding....
And that's folks is all she wrote.
Have a blessed day.
I have like five seconds.
I have so much to say and absolutely no time....
Ugh the story of my life.
My best friend lost her dear friend last night, another death to deal with - my heart weighs heavy that I cannot hug her.
Distance sucks.
My poet is in over drive - all I want to do is write poetry and catalog every moment of my life,
cause yeah it's fleeting and it's all so beautiful - even the shit.
But alas, I sew red hearts for my Halloween costume, neglect my studies and continue to rub swollen eyes that never get enough shut.
And, like today, go to work and feel like I am wasting precious time on something less important than my thoughts and the other zillion demands I will not meet.
I feel very Emily Dickinson lately - the Emily in me wants to recluse up in my bedroom and write poems - stanza after stanza, accounts of what was, what is and what will or will not ever be.
If only I could go unnoticed in hiding....
And that's folks is all she wrote.
Have a blessed day.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Providence calling.
Dense desire cloaked,
molten sweat.
Weather man says “it's gonna be a scorcher out there,”
it’s all good.
Reticent touches,
words,
syntax,
verbs,
anagrams.
Posy caked vanilla,
Panted saturation.
Push
harder – harder
good,
Alleging future mutuality.
Blues imbue in green hues,
yours and mine.
“Red is the color of the sun with my eyes closed”
Patent,
not pending.
Historically archived
‘The glowing age’
First Ladies always first.
B is for BEAUTIFUL
E is for Eventual
D is for dumb not to.
(James Morrison sings orange ipod)
‘Til then I’ll wait to see you again in my dreams.’
Resolute annual granuals.
molten sweat.
Weather man says “it's gonna be a scorcher out there,”
it’s all good.
Reticent touches,
words,
syntax,
verbs,
anagrams.
Posy caked vanilla,
Panted saturation.
Push
harder – harder
good,
Alleging future mutuality.
Blues imbue in green hues,
yours and mine.
“Red is the color of the sun with my eyes closed”
Patent,
not pending.
Historically archived
‘The glowing age’
First Ladies always first.
B is for BEAUTIFUL
E is for Eventual
D is for dumb not to.
(James Morrison sings orange ipod)
‘Til then I’ll wait to see you again in my dreams.’
Resolute annual granuals.
Monday, October 24, 2011
In between darkness and the light.
Good Morning blog land - I know right? I have been so MIA....
I have a myriad excuses, but I won't bore you with those - I barely care about them so I imagine you would feel much the same.
I find myself in a place lately that is less than desirable.
Confused, overwhelmingly contemplative - maybe even a tad depressed. I dare say, maybe all that tinged with a little bit of anger too - not a good place to say the least.
My best friend Mary's dear friend Inge, has suffered a cardiac arrest and has been laying in a coma for over a week. The prognosis is bad, as brain damage seems evident on her scans and questions are swirling about in the minds of those who love her, 'what will she be, if and when she wakes up?'
Inge is not my friend, merely a concern by association, but those of you who know me well, know that even those scenarios are enough to send me into an emotional tale spin. I don't have to be your best friend to have your plight ruin me.
Plus, this situation is hitting incredibly close to home considering the issues I have faced with my Grandparents.
The whole role reversal - child to health care proxy, Granddaughter to advocate, "pumpkin" to life and death decision maker - no fun, honestly, the worst time in my life.
There have been a few years between the adrenaline of living it, which somehow in the moment sustains you and keeps the emotions at bay so that you can function under such pressure - I find, talking to Mary, considering Inge and her children, the space between me and my Nana's stroke, my Grandfather's suffering, has given me time to absorb the emotion and now it is surfacing and I am full of feelings I don't like, not one bit.
My Nana had a massive stroke - she too was in a coma - she too suffered brain damage and paralysis - she lives on....In a state that I never ever want to get to.
In the process of her long deterioration, so many questions arose.
Do we put in a feeding tube, or let her starve?
Would she want that, she is Catholic?
Do we call the priest for last rights?
Do well sell the house?
Do we keep the casserole dishes or donate them to Goodwill?
This part of life sucks - sucks so bad that I allow myself to FEEL the emotions surrounding the events that have long since played out, I cry - always cry - cry to the point that my chest closes and my guts hurt and I rage inside, fight against a role reversal that has forever changed what my Grandparents were, stained my previous memories of them for the rest of my life.
When your Grandfather begs you to help him (meaning kill me) and you cannot release him because it is illegal - me and him at the bowling alley when I was ten, gets pushed back to the recesses of my mind which is instead burned with an image of his desperation - and worst of all, lack of dignity.
I am sad and angry and stressed.
These events (for the time being) are inactive. My Papa died last year and my Nana is in a nursing home in Boston, far from my advocacy - and yet....I am considering these issues for myself, my own future, my own mortality.
I decided long ago, that when I begin to legit decline as an elderly person, I am taking a big ass bottle of pills and chugging it back with a bottle of good patron - going into the big sleep on my terms, never ever chancing my kids having to change my diaper, or feed me pureed food.
But, the scary thing - like with Inge, is that very quickly - illness and injury can steal away that control, negate every living will and leave you in a limbo - out of the clear blue sky.
One day you are fine, the next day - coma.
I hate it. Hate it with all my heart - it frightens me in a way that I cannot articulate, but especially on a work day morning when I am running out of time.
This is one of those situations, that unless you have lived it - cannot understand.
I have lived it - Inge's kids are living it now.
It changes you - changes your perspective, alters your resolve, brings your own death into a clear focus that at my age, serves as a bitter distraction when I need so much, to be productive and present.
I am in a fog - caught between darkness and light - between life and death.
I am miserable.
And....I am taking shitty care of myself and hating myself for it - feeling really angry at me for the lousy ass care, especially in light of all my concerns regarding health.
The sensible me, screams 'take care of yourself Deb, you know exactly how to do it' But the pissed off and sad, unreasonable me counter screams 'well don't bother, you'll drop dead from a heart attack and the kids will never have a choice to suffer through - smoke up!'
There is a battle waging inside of me, it's ugly and is stealing my brain power.
I am basically unplugged from school this semester - sigh
I have written six essays for the writing contest (that I won last year) and don;t know that anyone of them is a winner.
I cannot make it through a paragraph of any of my text books and retain a word, a theme, a meaning.
I'm not doing well - ugh and I am pissed off about it.
I keep making 'new start' commitments - today I am going to do all my homework.
Today I will limit caffeine to two cups. Today I will get up at 5:30 and go for a walk.
Blah blah blah - yadayadayada...
Instead I rub my tired eyes until my eyeballs throb from the friction and sit with my head in my hands, remembering things I don't want to remember and consider things I don't ever want to come to fruition....
This is the hardest thing about aging - losing loved ones that came before you and preparing to leave behind the ones that came after.
sigh.
And now I must leave this comfortable spot at my kitchen table where I could sit all day and write poetry to empty out my angst, but instead I must go to work and pretend to care about clothes and jewelry, read my text book at lunch and live....
Sorry to be a downer - it's just where I am....
Peace.
I have a myriad excuses, but I won't bore you with those - I barely care about them so I imagine you would feel much the same.
I find myself in a place lately that is less than desirable.
Confused, overwhelmingly contemplative - maybe even a tad depressed. I dare say, maybe all that tinged with a little bit of anger too - not a good place to say the least.
My best friend Mary's dear friend Inge, has suffered a cardiac arrest and has been laying in a coma for over a week. The prognosis is bad, as brain damage seems evident on her scans and questions are swirling about in the minds of those who love her, 'what will she be, if and when she wakes up?'
Inge is not my friend, merely a concern by association, but those of you who know me well, know that even those scenarios are enough to send me into an emotional tale spin. I don't have to be your best friend to have your plight ruin me.
Plus, this situation is hitting incredibly close to home considering the issues I have faced with my Grandparents.
The whole role reversal - child to health care proxy, Granddaughter to advocate, "pumpkin" to life and death decision maker - no fun, honestly, the worst time in my life.
There have been a few years between the adrenaline of living it, which somehow in the moment sustains you and keeps the emotions at bay so that you can function under such pressure - I find, talking to Mary, considering Inge and her children, the space between me and my Nana's stroke, my Grandfather's suffering, has given me time to absorb the emotion and now it is surfacing and I am full of feelings I don't like, not one bit.
My Nana had a massive stroke - she too was in a coma - she too suffered brain damage and paralysis - she lives on....In a state that I never ever want to get to.
In the process of her long deterioration, so many questions arose.
Do we put in a feeding tube, or let her starve?
Would she want that, she is Catholic?
Do we call the priest for last rights?
Do well sell the house?
Do we keep the casserole dishes or donate them to Goodwill?
This part of life sucks - sucks so bad that I allow myself to FEEL the emotions surrounding the events that have long since played out, I cry - always cry - cry to the point that my chest closes and my guts hurt and I rage inside, fight against a role reversal that has forever changed what my Grandparents were, stained my previous memories of them for the rest of my life.
When your Grandfather begs you to help him (meaning kill me) and you cannot release him because it is illegal - me and him at the bowling alley when I was ten, gets pushed back to the recesses of my mind which is instead burned with an image of his desperation - and worst of all, lack of dignity.
I am sad and angry and stressed.
These events (for the time being) are inactive. My Papa died last year and my Nana is in a nursing home in Boston, far from my advocacy - and yet....I am considering these issues for myself, my own future, my own mortality.
I decided long ago, that when I begin to legit decline as an elderly person, I am taking a big ass bottle of pills and chugging it back with a bottle of good patron - going into the big sleep on my terms, never ever chancing my kids having to change my diaper, or feed me pureed food.
But, the scary thing - like with Inge, is that very quickly - illness and injury can steal away that control, negate every living will and leave you in a limbo - out of the clear blue sky.
One day you are fine, the next day - coma.
I hate it. Hate it with all my heart - it frightens me in a way that I cannot articulate, but especially on a work day morning when I am running out of time.
This is one of those situations, that unless you have lived it - cannot understand.
I have lived it - Inge's kids are living it now.
It changes you - changes your perspective, alters your resolve, brings your own death into a clear focus that at my age, serves as a bitter distraction when I need so much, to be productive and present.
I am in a fog - caught between darkness and light - between life and death.
I am miserable.
And....I am taking shitty care of myself and hating myself for it - feeling really angry at me for the lousy ass care, especially in light of all my concerns regarding health.
The sensible me, screams 'take care of yourself Deb, you know exactly how to do it' But the pissed off and sad, unreasonable me counter screams 'well don't bother, you'll drop dead from a heart attack and the kids will never have a choice to suffer through - smoke up!'
There is a battle waging inside of me, it's ugly and is stealing my brain power.
I am basically unplugged from school this semester - sigh
I have written six essays for the writing contest (that I won last year) and don;t know that anyone of them is a winner.
I cannot make it through a paragraph of any of my text books and retain a word, a theme, a meaning.
I'm not doing well - ugh and I am pissed off about it.
I keep making 'new start' commitments - today I am going to do all my homework.
Today I will limit caffeine to two cups. Today I will get up at 5:30 and go for a walk.
Blah blah blah - yadayadayada...
Instead I rub my tired eyes until my eyeballs throb from the friction and sit with my head in my hands, remembering things I don't want to remember and consider things I don't ever want to come to fruition....
This is the hardest thing about aging - losing loved ones that came before you and preparing to leave behind the ones that came after.
sigh.
And now I must leave this comfortable spot at my kitchen table where I could sit all day and write poetry to empty out my angst, but instead I must go to work and pretend to care about clothes and jewelry, read my text book at lunch and live....
Sorry to be a downer - it's just where I am....
Peace.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
I'm coming slow but speeding.
Good Morning blog readers and Happy Birthday to me....
I am sitting in my kitchen feeling stiff and old which seems absolutely appropriate on this forty first birthday morn.....
I am not complaining mind you, I have waited for this one for a longgg time. Those of you who read me, or know me well, know that #41 by DMB is my life anthem - this is my my #41 birthday - so yay for making it this far - Look DAVE I did it.
The stiffness and elderly feeling is not just because I am middle aged either - it is because this last week has been quite monumental, to have survived it one piece is a miracle.
My dear friend Rebecca got married and I was in the wedding.
A lot of people are bridesmaids you are thinking - what the big deal is???
Well, when you are a Mom to a zillion kids, a full time college student, have a demanding job, and are in a wedding and expected to partake in all kids of festivities for days and days in a row - well holy shit - big deal.
I think red wine has replaced red blood in my veins. I feel like I may be hung over for all of eternity.
And you know what they say kiddos? - I am not as young as I used to be.
Really, minus the tiredness and the permanent state of pain my petite little feet may be in from my hot ass heels I wore (all day and night long - without taking them off once), I am feeling quite blessed today - have been all week.
Somehow I managed to end up with the very best people in my life as best friends.
And with those best friends, I got the best families as a bonus - so great to be included in precious moments like you are precious to the moment itself.
I was pretty much ecstatic all week long.
My friend Becca began as my hairdresser.
I walked into her shop a million years ago for a cut and ended up with a BFF.
She is priceless to me, one of my many champions - someone that I can always count on, someone that Loves me exactly the way I am and tells me that I should never ever change or compromise who I am.
Funny how hairdressers are the female version of the mans bartender....
I tell her everything.
In whispers below the hummmm of hairdryers - we chat about all the big, important stuff.
And boy, have we been through a lot together.
Our lives always seems to be working in unison - her kids are making her crazy - my kids are making me crazy.
Her life is upside down - my life is upside down.
we are always in it together and for that, I am grateful beyond what I can express here.
Years ago when we were gym rats, we saw each other alllll the time - now that I am in college and she has Ben,
we see each other a lot less and I miss her.
I am so happy for her though, that the time we spent working off out stress at the gym, is now spent laughing and smiling with her man, Ben.
Her Husband Ben :)
Since he came into her life, she has been lit from within and glowing - looks content and happy and settled.
I am so happy for her, I just cannot tell you - so happy.
It helps that I adore her husband too - would it be wrong of me to suggest that he is a male version of me? Well he is....
And I love him for it - he is hilarious and loud and a good guy - a genuinely good guy.
It helps when you love your BFF's hubby - definitely is a good thing.
So... I am tired and the joints are inflamed, but all for a good cause - all for a great time and a beautiful memory I can add to the bank.
It was a perfect weekend, the fact that it is Tuesday and I am still recovering - well that is an indication of the level of perfection I am speaking of.....really fun perfection.
And so....it's my birthday.
Hmmmmmm what to say about that?
Well - I am #41 FINALLY - I feel pretty good about it.
The events of this weekend tell me, I still got it....
Middle aged and still can rock the sexy.
I like that, not giving up on that - gonna be sexy til I croak - watch me.
Middle aged and still can shake my money maker - a dance floor and I, still get it on.
Like that too - never gonna stop dancing either.
Really, I feel pretty darn good for middle aged and in nine years I will be fifty - what what? Wow...
No really I do, I feel pretty good - really happy to be alive and to have made it this far, not complaining one bit about being where I am on the time line - like a cute boy I used to know, used to say - "it's all good."
Yes yes it is.
And with that - I am off to school - crazy - school on my 41st birthday - who would have thunk it?
Peace out peeps and love...
Thank you to my boys from the band, especially to my one true
Come and see
I swear by now I'm playing time against my troubles
I'm coming slow but speeding
Do you wish a dance and while
I'm in the front
The play on time is won
But the difficulty is coming here
I will go in this way
And find my own way out
I won't tell you to stay
But I'm coming to much more
Me
All at once the ghosts come back
Reeling in you now
What if they came down crushing
Remember when I used to play for
All of the loneliness that nobody
Notices now
I'm begging slow I'm coming here
Only waiting I wanted to stay
I wanted to play,
I wanted to love you
I'm only this far
And only tomorrow leads my way
I'm coming waltzing back and
Moving into your head
Please, I wouldn't pass this by
I wouldn't take any more than
What sort of man goes by
I will bring water
Why won't you ever be glad
It melts into wonder
I came in praying for you
Why won't you run
In the rain and play
Let the tears splash all over you
I am sitting in my kitchen feeling stiff and old which seems absolutely appropriate on this forty first birthday morn.....
I am not complaining mind you, I have waited for this one for a longgg time. Those of you who read me, or know me well, know that #41 by DMB is my life anthem - this is my my #41 birthday - so yay for making it this far - Look DAVE I did it.
The stiffness and elderly feeling is not just because I am middle aged either - it is because this last week has been quite monumental, to have survived it one piece is a miracle.
My dear friend Rebecca got married and I was in the wedding.
A lot of people are bridesmaids you are thinking - what the big deal is???
Well, when you are a Mom to a zillion kids, a full time college student, have a demanding job, and are in a wedding and expected to partake in all kids of festivities for days and days in a row - well holy shit - big deal.
I think red wine has replaced red blood in my veins. I feel like I may be hung over for all of eternity.
And you know what they say kiddos? - I am not as young as I used to be.
Really, minus the tiredness and the permanent state of pain my petite little feet may be in from my hot ass heels I wore (all day and night long - without taking them off once), I am feeling quite blessed today - have been all week.
Somehow I managed to end up with the very best people in my life as best friends.
And with those best friends, I got the best families as a bonus - so great to be included in precious moments like you are precious to the moment itself.
I was pretty much ecstatic all week long.
My friend Becca began as my hairdresser.
I walked into her shop a million years ago for a cut and ended up with a BFF.
She is priceless to me, one of my many champions - someone that I can always count on, someone that Loves me exactly the way I am and tells me that I should never ever change or compromise who I am.
Funny how hairdressers are the female version of the mans bartender....
I tell her everything.
In whispers below the hummmm of hairdryers - we chat about all the big, important stuff.
And boy, have we been through a lot together.
Our lives always seems to be working in unison - her kids are making her crazy - my kids are making me crazy.
Her life is upside down - my life is upside down.
we are always in it together and for that, I am grateful beyond what I can express here.
Years ago when we were gym rats, we saw each other alllll the time - now that I am in college and she has Ben,
we see each other a lot less and I miss her.
I am so happy for her though, that the time we spent working off out stress at the gym, is now spent laughing and smiling with her man, Ben.
Her Husband Ben :)
Since he came into her life, she has been lit from within and glowing - looks content and happy and settled.
I am so happy for her, I just cannot tell you - so happy.
It helps that I adore her husband too - would it be wrong of me to suggest that he is a male version of me? Well he is....
And I love him for it - he is hilarious and loud and a good guy - a genuinely good guy.
It helps when you love your BFF's hubby - definitely is a good thing.
So... I am tired and the joints are inflamed, but all for a good cause - all for a great time and a beautiful memory I can add to the bank.
It was a perfect weekend, the fact that it is Tuesday and I am still recovering - well that is an indication of the level of perfection I am speaking of.....really fun perfection.
And so....it's my birthday.
Hmmmmmm what to say about that?
Well - I am #41 FINALLY - I feel pretty good about it.
The events of this weekend tell me, I still got it....
Middle aged and still can rock the sexy.
I like that, not giving up on that - gonna be sexy til I croak - watch me.
Middle aged and still can shake my money maker - a dance floor and I, still get it on.
Like that too - never gonna stop dancing either.
Really, I feel pretty darn good for middle aged and in nine years I will be fifty - what what? Wow...
No really I do, I feel pretty good - really happy to be alive and to have made it this far, not complaining one bit about being where I am on the time line - like a cute boy I used to know, used to say - "it's all good."
Yes yes it is.
And with that - I am off to school - crazy - school on my 41st birthday - who would have thunk it?
Peace out peeps and love...
Thank you to my boys from the band, especially to my one true
Come and see
I swear by now I'm playing time against my troubles
I'm coming slow but speeding
Do you wish a dance and while
I'm in the front
The play on time is won
But the difficulty is coming here
I will go in this way
And find my own way out
I won't tell you to stay
But I'm coming to much more
Me
All at once the ghosts come back
Reeling in you now
What if they came down crushing
Remember when I used to play for
All of the loneliness that nobody
Notices now
I'm begging slow I'm coming here
Only waiting I wanted to stay
I wanted to play,
I wanted to love you
I'm only this far
And only tomorrow leads my way
I'm coming waltzing back and
Moving into your head
Please, I wouldn't pass this by
I wouldn't take any more than
What sort of man goes by
I will bring water
Why won't you ever be glad
It melts into wonder
I came in praying for you
Why won't you run
In the rain and play
Let the tears splash all over you
Thursday, October 6, 2011
wash your mouth out with soap.
Good Morning Blog readers...
Can I just say that the school bus arriving at any street corner at 7am is just too f'ing early? My poor kids - zombies, every damn day no matter what we do to make the morning smoother. We all fall completely apart - melt down - chaos - teeth not brushed nearly long enough ugh - damn the school year - I WANT SUMMER.
Okay now that I got that out of the way - to rant....
Last night before bed, with one eye on NOVA (about King Solomons mines - really cool) and the other eye on the computer, I attempted to write a letter to the editors of the Cville and the Hook (for those of you not from VA - those are our local free newspapers)
and having said that, I probably should send one off to the Daily Progress too - but I sideline.....
I am pissed off about the going's on, on my beloved downtown mall and have had it, literally - like head explosion imminent if something does not change and ASAP.
See the thing is this - I have worked on the mall for fourteen years - is anyone can lend perspective I believe it's me - although I have not been there long enough to be considered "historic" like the mall and the buildings - 14 years is some kinda time to spend in one location.
I have seen a ton of changes - a ton.
What I am so pissed off about, is the behavior of those who have made the mall their place to squat. I have real issues with this.
And keep in mind that I am not really so judgmental - I have a lot of sympathy for those down on their luck.
I am not even necessarily speaking to the homeless or the pan handlers either - mostly I am talking about the assholes who sit around all day running their pie holes at volumes that surely violate the noise ordinances each and every time they open their mouths.
Oh and is downtown Cville our version of Los Angeles? Cause it sure looks to me like there is some gang activity going on....?
Oh and I would be remiss not to mention the drug dealing that goes on in front of Christians - the cars that slow down, roll windows and exchange money and hhhmm other stuff as they peruse through, well they couldn't be more obvious.
But really what I am most upset about, is the atmospheric change - I remember a time when I would not think twice about eating an expensive meal on an outdoor patio - or taking my kids to chaps for an ice cream.
I still will, but now I think twice about it -
wondering, what disruption will there be? what foul language or behavior will I have to witness and worst yet, what about the kiddos?
Will they hear "Motherfucker" repetitively? Probably so.
Grrrr it makes me mad as hell.
In my letter - I recounted a story from my own life - I will give it to you here in short.
I was saying good morning to Mike and Jada (a homeless man and his dog) - he asked me for prayers as he was interviewing for a job that afternoon. We hugged and i said "of course" - then, a young man standing nearby asked me to pray for him too.
"okay whatchya need?"
"I need a job and to get out of the halfway house I am in"
Okay - add that to my list and on my way to open my shop.
About two hours later the same young man was on a patio in front of my store screaming his head off at his girlfriend.
There were all kinds of "Bitches, Assholes, Fuck you's and the mall fav, mother fuckers" spewing from both their mouths.
I was startled to say the least and went to the door to see what in the hell was going on.
Before I knew it - a high back iron bar stool got kicked across the patio and I heard all about how he was a low down cheating bastard and she was a lazy bitch.
I was so mad my head nearly came off - an older more mature type customer from out of town asked me,
"Am I safe here in Charlottesville?"
WOW really....
Thanks you losers for scaring away our out of town visitors - our paying customers - our livelihood and my job security as the country suffers through a recession.
THANKS FOR NOTHING.
Later that afternoon I ran up the mall to my other store on an errand - the same young man with the mouth and a prayer asked me casually - playfully - you pray for me yet?
I stopped in my tracks and thought - well, here is my opportunity to make a difference.
My response was this (not verbatim obviously but the gist)
"Look around you"
Pause look of confusion on his face.
"No really, look around you"
I motioned to behind him with my head - towards a child maybe three - looking in the window of the toy store about two feet from him.
"You think that child needs to hear your disgusting potty mouth?"
Blank expression - turns to shock....
"Because I don't think he does - I don't think that is fair to him or his parents"
Shock turns to guilt.
"thing is, maybe you need less prayers and more self contemplation - maybe you need to think about putting out into the world what you want to get back. You want a job? Well then don't ruin my business by running your mouth with vulgarity that drives customers right off the mall and ruins local economy, there won't be any jobs if you keep it up - you want good luck to come your way? How about some behavior that earns you that payback - you need to stop and think about you and what you put out in relation to what you get back."
I was mad and said it all (way more than that) in my angry Mother voice.
He looked truly afraid.
So yeah, how about them apples???
Everyday of late it is the same on the mall
"MOTHERFUCKER THIS MOTHERFUCKER THAT"
Do these people not see the kids???
Not see the elderly???
Not see that there are people around that don't enjoy being exposed to the gutter?
I have had it.
Pretty quick I am going to start using my Mother voice on all of them - thing is....
I am kinda afraid and that is new for me - I have never felt afraid on the mall.
And don't get me wrong - I don't mean like walking to Eppie's - I mean if I were to challenge one of these assholes, was to speak out, I feel as though I COULD pay a price.
Not happy, not happy in the least.
What the hell is happening to our world that people have so little respect???
I find it appalling - am I alone in this?
I want my mall back.
I want respect back.
Values are lost, ugh...
Can I just say that the school bus arriving at any street corner at 7am is just too f'ing early? My poor kids - zombies, every damn day no matter what we do to make the morning smoother. We all fall completely apart - melt down - chaos - teeth not brushed nearly long enough ugh - damn the school year - I WANT SUMMER.
Okay now that I got that out of the way - to rant....
Last night before bed, with one eye on NOVA (about King Solomons mines - really cool) and the other eye on the computer, I attempted to write a letter to the editors of the Cville and the Hook (for those of you not from VA - those are our local free newspapers)
and having said that, I probably should send one off to the Daily Progress too - but I sideline.....
I am pissed off about the going's on, on my beloved downtown mall and have had it, literally - like head explosion imminent if something does not change and ASAP.
See the thing is this - I have worked on the mall for fourteen years - is anyone can lend perspective I believe it's me - although I have not been there long enough to be considered "historic" like the mall and the buildings - 14 years is some kinda time to spend in one location.
I have seen a ton of changes - a ton.
What I am so pissed off about, is the behavior of those who have made the mall their place to squat. I have real issues with this.
And keep in mind that I am not really so judgmental - I have a lot of sympathy for those down on their luck.
I am not even necessarily speaking to the homeless or the pan handlers either - mostly I am talking about the assholes who sit around all day running their pie holes at volumes that surely violate the noise ordinances each and every time they open their mouths.
Oh and is downtown Cville our version of Los Angeles? Cause it sure looks to me like there is some gang activity going on....?
Oh and I would be remiss not to mention the drug dealing that goes on in front of Christians - the cars that slow down, roll windows and exchange money and hhhmm other stuff as they peruse through, well they couldn't be more obvious.
But really what I am most upset about, is the atmospheric change - I remember a time when I would not think twice about eating an expensive meal on an outdoor patio - or taking my kids to chaps for an ice cream.
I still will, but now I think twice about it -
wondering, what disruption will there be? what foul language or behavior will I have to witness and worst yet, what about the kiddos?
Will they hear "Motherfucker" repetitively? Probably so.
Grrrr it makes me mad as hell.
In my letter - I recounted a story from my own life - I will give it to you here in short.
I was saying good morning to Mike and Jada (a homeless man and his dog) - he asked me for prayers as he was interviewing for a job that afternoon. We hugged and i said "of course" - then, a young man standing nearby asked me to pray for him too.
"okay whatchya need?"
"I need a job and to get out of the halfway house I am in"
Okay - add that to my list and on my way to open my shop.
About two hours later the same young man was on a patio in front of my store screaming his head off at his girlfriend.
There were all kinds of "Bitches, Assholes, Fuck you's and the mall fav, mother fuckers" spewing from both their mouths.
I was startled to say the least and went to the door to see what in the hell was going on.
Before I knew it - a high back iron bar stool got kicked across the patio and I heard all about how he was a low down cheating bastard and she was a lazy bitch.
I was so mad my head nearly came off - an older more mature type customer from out of town asked me,
"Am I safe here in Charlottesville?"
WOW really....
Thanks you losers for scaring away our out of town visitors - our paying customers - our livelihood and my job security as the country suffers through a recession.
THANKS FOR NOTHING.
Later that afternoon I ran up the mall to my other store on an errand - the same young man with the mouth and a prayer asked me casually - playfully - you pray for me yet?
I stopped in my tracks and thought - well, here is my opportunity to make a difference.
My response was this (not verbatim obviously but the gist)
"Look around you"
Pause look of confusion on his face.
"No really, look around you"
I motioned to behind him with my head - towards a child maybe three - looking in the window of the toy store about two feet from him.
"You think that child needs to hear your disgusting potty mouth?"
Blank expression - turns to shock....
"Because I don't think he does - I don't think that is fair to him or his parents"
Shock turns to guilt.
"thing is, maybe you need less prayers and more self contemplation - maybe you need to think about putting out into the world what you want to get back. You want a job? Well then don't ruin my business by running your mouth with vulgarity that drives customers right off the mall and ruins local economy, there won't be any jobs if you keep it up - you want good luck to come your way? How about some behavior that earns you that payback - you need to stop and think about you and what you put out in relation to what you get back."
I was mad and said it all (way more than that) in my angry Mother voice.
He looked truly afraid.
So yeah, how about them apples???
Everyday of late it is the same on the mall
"MOTHERFUCKER THIS MOTHERFUCKER THAT"
Do these people not see the kids???
Not see the elderly???
Not see that there are people around that don't enjoy being exposed to the gutter?
I have had it.
Pretty quick I am going to start using my Mother voice on all of them - thing is....
I am kinda afraid and that is new for me - I have never felt afraid on the mall.
And don't get me wrong - I don't mean like walking to Eppie's - I mean if I were to challenge one of these assholes, was to speak out, I feel as though I COULD pay a price.
Not happy, not happy in the least.
What the hell is happening to our world that people have so little respect???
I find it appalling - am I alone in this?
I want my mall back.
I want respect back.
Values are lost, ugh...
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
slow dancing in a burning life.
Go cry about it why don't you?
well at least I cry,
you taunting asshole.
Its not just the room or the dance that burns so hot, I say.
You laugh smugly.
It is this life, I scream.
a slow burn,
a rapid one,
a backdraft which will blow you the fuck over when you least expect it.
One whatever day,
in a whatever moment,
you will go to open the door to wherever
and Bam - thrashing flames, you'll be burnt all up,
left nothing but a glowing ember barely holding onto the light.
AHHHHHHHHH I scream.
Is it so hard for you to see?
And why is that?
Why do some of us see the dance card needs to be full - fill it,
do the cha cha
dance the waltz
tango for Christ's sake,
this life is slow burning and there is no way out you dumb fuck,
so dance.
You're a bitch because you can,
but really because you can't.
I am the only light you ever saw.
Dark like ashes,
flaky wet amidst the rubble,
damp from the rescue squad.
Don't for a second think,
I won't pick it up,
smudge it under my eyes like war paint,
and dance the ritual dance.
Because I will,
and I will cry about it.
Long after your silence has quieted.
I will hear my music,
slow dance in my own burning room,
do it sultry with dark weeping eyes,
and laughter.
well at least I cry,
you taunting asshole.
Its not just the room or the dance that burns so hot, I say.
You laugh smugly.
It is this life, I scream.
a slow burn,
a rapid one,
a backdraft which will blow you the fuck over when you least expect it.
One whatever day,
in a whatever moment,
you will go to open the door to wherever
and Bam - thrashing flames, you'll be burnt all up,
left nothing but a glowing ember barely holding onto the light.
AHHHHHHHHH I scream.
Is it so hard for you to see?
And why is that?
Why do some of us see the dance card needs to be full - fill it,
do the cha cha
dance the waltz
tango for Christ's sake,
this life is slow burning and there is no way out you dumb fuck,
so dance.
You're a bitch because you can,
but really because you can't.
I am the only light you ever saw.
Dark like ashes,
flaky wet amidst the rubble,
damp from the rescue squad.
Don't for a second think,
I won't pick it up,
smudge it under my eyes like war paint,
and dance the ritual dance.
Because I will,
and I will cry about it.
Long after your silence has quieted.
I will hear my music,
slow dance in my own burning room,
do it sultry with dark weeping eyes,
and laughter.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
the house that built me.
Good Sunday morning by the skin of my teeth - ten minutes til afternoon...
Where oh where does the time go?
I just got up, well about an hour ago in truth - I couldn't sleep last night (go figure) and watched stupid cheese ball movies until 3 AM.
Have I previously mentioned how much I hate TV?
Yeah, it makes people mindless drones, and - I was one of them last night.
Over stimulated by ridiculousness.
Grrrrrrrrr.
I am awake now and feeling defeated already - over tired, with too much to do , too little time and, oh wait, did I mention a sick doodle bug?
Yup my wee littlest one Emma is down hard - sick with something that has her pale and achy and not wanting to face the world outside of the bed.
She, is a looking a lot like I was last Tuesday.
Sigh - poor bug, I know her pain and I feel for her.
I am a little nervous that illness has invaded my home and this is just NOT the week for it (as if any week is?)
But really, this is not the week....
My dear friend Rebecca, one of my BFF's is getting married on Saturday and I am a bridesmaid - this cannot be the week that illness takes over my life.
I have so much to do between work, school and the wedding - I have to look alive on Saturday - I would like to NOT look like dawn of the dead if you know what I mean.
Not that I matter all that much, the attention should be on the bride who WILL look BEAUTIFUL because well one, she is, and two her dress is sooooooo fantastically gorgeous.
But you know what they say about those around you looking good - it makes you as the centerpiece look even better - I don't want to show up with the flu.
Please wedding God's - make me not ugly between the hours of 1 and 11pm, Saturday October 8th.
Sigh - I need lots of water, no gluten and no dairy and sleep.
No stress and no illness - ALL WEEK.
If that actually came to fruition, I dare say that would be the first week of my life to have that happen.
I am not really complaining really, just whining a little about the truth - my life ugh, so full.
So full comes with so much work and hence, so much stress.
And when you have as many kids as I do, well than illness is common place during these god forsaken not summer months.
Fingers crossed and adopting a positive attitude - officially, starting now....
So I told my co-worker Jo (who does not read my blogs) about my Papa possession and she being older and maybe in some ways wiser than me, read the NIPS, cheez its and Canada dreams differently than my interpretation -
she thinks that I am HUNGRY for him and that I am feeling like I need to be taken care of.
I think she might be right.
Maybe he is not possessing me at all, maybe I am not channeling his spirit because HE is trying to tell me anything - maybe in truth I am just trying to get close to the one man that was always there to take care of his PUMPKIN.
I am after all approaching my forty first birthday in nine days and it is now officially (according to the weather) Autumn - makes sense that I would need him now.
I am in my birth season and something about it always strips me bare emotionally and leaves me feeling a lot like a little girl -
wow I am far from that now - I am middle aged - yikes, when did all that growing up happen?
It's funny because although I know I am almost 41 and feel it (creaky and crows feet) I still remember being little like it was yesterday - still, feel very much, like that little girl....
The young me is still very much alive and the memories are crystal clear having lost very little of their color and clarity.
I miss being little.
I long for a crack at it again - maybe just for a day.
I would return to Willoughby Street and start my day with a Nana omelet.
Maybe watch some price is right and then knit with Nana in the den while we watched General Hospital together.
Nothing special - just to go home for a day and absorb it all for old times sake.
Yup I am homesick and missing my Papa.
Missing my old life that has all but vanished.
Last year when I went home for my Papa's funeral - Mary and Toto and Nic and I did a drive around my childhood hood. We visited Chandlers pond where I fed the ducks as a little girl,
where we walked after Thanksgiving dinner, Nana and Papa in their Irish Knit sweaters - in between football games and dinner and the desert spread. (I never did get mince meat pie btw)
Chandlers pond to the weeping willow trees where I would run and hide on sullen girl days - days when I was mad at the world, or at a Father I didn't know,or saddened by a Mother that didn't like me much.
We drove by St.Johns seminary where I would ride my bike like a mad woman, inside the big black gates, along the best bike paths (not meant for bikes) where the acorns fell on my head a perfect percussion, as I sped through on my badness, arms up over my head like on a roller coaster -
"Look Cardinal Medeiros - NO HANDS!!!!!"
I was chastised by the Cardinal himself a lot - he was sweet and really liked me,
but none the less - the paths at the seminary were not meant for me and my big mouth or speeding orange bike with the bell that Papa put on the handle bars for me over thirty something years ago...
We visited 43 Willoughby street and wished that we had not -
Nothing quite like seeing your childhood home trashed and abused by the present owners.
Papa's front bushes were gone, the porch paint was all chipped and peeling off and well, the rest I won't even get into - it hurts too much to recall.
I just remember vividly standing with my 19 year old sister Courtney who has a wealth of her own good memories from 43, feeling like what was ours had been robbed and neglected to the point of being unrecognizable.
It sucked beyond - we two stood there arms around each other Thanking God that Papa had never seen his beloved 43 this way and that Nana, well Nana never would.
If we thought it hurt us - imagine them seeing it that way - well that would have killed their spirits, so Amen for that never happening....
I remember walking that day along the sidewalks in front of the house, feeling my little feet from all the years before, running, skipping walking right there on that concrete basically unchanged. The sewer drain by the driveway was the same as when I was a kid.
The crack in the sidewalk I always tripped over.
The little metal marker thingy for the water company in the walkway.
So much was the same as it had always been and yet,
everything is/was in that moment different.
Life is hard like that.
Makes me cry right now as I see myself at seven excitedly jumping out of my Mother's Green toyota and running up the steps to the the front door to ring their bell on Christmas morning.
The upstairs door would open, then the stairs would creak where the rug was worn thinner at the landing and the crest of arms hung facing you, it was then I could tell if it was Nana or Papa by the sound of their steps.
The bottom door would open, then the feet on the foyer entrance, than the front door would open where I stood waiting inside the screen door while my Mother barked that "you can carry more shit you know"
yeah well it's Christmas Ma and I got a Merry Christmas kiss inside me bursting to come out for Papa....
Oh how I wish I could have bottled that feeling and open it right now,
smell the smells of his cologne and the turkey cooking, the warmth of the house, the Christmas music playing, the feel of Papa's lap as I sat in it, my tights always making me fidget while I sat.
Those were good days - and Jo, well she is right I think - I am hungry for my Papa, hungry for the safety I always knew there at 43 Willoughby.
I miss my sisters too - I never see them - never talk to them and it makes me sad.
Life is too short and everything changes.
I proved last year on my pilgrimage through the memories that you can't go back - you just can't - no matter how much you want to.
I want to, OBVIOUSLY.
I hope that my Grandparents know what they gave me - I hope that while I was able, I made it crystal clear to them, that they gave me most everything that ended up being good about my life and are responsible for everything good that I am.
I hope I communicated that while I had the chance.
I hope my Nana feels me thinking of her now, way up in Boston in the nursing home that is so not even close to her home.
Sigh and cry.
I think 41 is going to be a big year for me - after all Dave has been singing to me about it for over a decade now - anticipation is built high...
I think it will be a life altering year and I pray in all good ways - I think as I approach what I feel will be life altering - I am in need of a little going back so that I never forget where I came from - where it was that I was built...
I miss it all - all what was....
and with that almost noon has turned to almost one and I need to get my ass in gear.
I have too much to do to sit and type all day - although clearly it is what I want to do.
I hope this week is easy - hope my daughter is better - hope the puffiness under my eyes goes down by Saturday and hope I do okay without all the NIPS and cheez its which I have sworn off for all their gluten and dairy yuck-ness.
Ah me - off to eat a rice cake and do work.
I hope you all have a blessed day.
Where oh where does the time go?
I just got up, well about an hour ago in truth - I couldn't sleep last night (go figure) and watched stupid cheese ball movies until 3 AM.
Have I previously mentioned how much I hate TV?
Yeah, it makes people mindless drones, and - I was one of them last night.
Over stimulated by ridiculousness.
Grrrrrrrrr.
I am awake now and feeling defeated already - over tired, with too much to do , too little time and, oh wait, did I mention a sick doodle bug?
Yup my wee littlest one Emma is down hard - sick with something that has her pale and achy and not wanting to face the world outside of the bed.
She, is a looking a lot like I was last Tuesday.
Sigh - poor bug, I know her pain and I feel for her.
I am a little nervous that illness has invaded my home and this is just NOT the week for it (as if any week is?)
But really, this is not the week....
My dear friend Rebecca, one of my BFF's is getting married on Saturday and I am a bridesmaid - this cannot be the week that illness takes over my life.
I have so much to do between work, school and the wedding - I have to look alive on Saturday - I would like to NOT look like dawn of the dead if you know what I mean.
Not that I matter all that much, the attention should be on the bride who WILL look BEAUTIFUL because well one, she is, and two her dress is sooooooo fantastically gorgeous.
But you know what they say about those around you looking good - it makes you as the centerpiece look even better - I don't want to show up with the flu.
Please wedding God's - make me not ugly between the hours of 1 and 11pm, Saturday October 8th.
Sigh - I need lots of water, no gluten and no dairy and sleep.
No stress and no illness - ALL WEEK.
If that actually came to fruition, I dare say that would be the first week of my life to have that happen.
I am not really complaining really, just whining a little about the truth - my life ugh, so full.
So full comes with so much work and hence, so much stress.
And when you have as many kids as I do, well than illness is common place during these god forsaken not summer months.
Fingers crossed and adopting a positive attitude - officially, starting now....
So I told my co-worker Jo (who does not read my blogs) about my Papa possession and she being older and maybe in some ways wiser than me, read the NIPS, cheez its and Canada dreams differently than my interpretation -
she thinks that I am HUNGRY for him and that I am feeling like I need to be taken care of.
I think she might be right.
Maybe he is not possessing me at all, maybe I am not channeling his spirit because HE is trying to tell me anything - maybe in truth I am just trying to get close to the one man that was always there to take care of his PUMPKIN.
I am after all approaching my forty first birthday in nine days and it is now officially (according to the weather) Autumn - makes sense that I would need him now.
I am in my birth season and something about it always strips me bare emotionally and leaves me feeling a lot like a little girl -
wow I am far from that now - I am middle aged - yikes, when did all that growing up happen?
It's funny because although I know I am almost 41 and feel it (creaky and crows feet) I still remember being little like it was yesterday - still, feel very much, like that little girl....
The young me is still very much alive and the memories are crystal clear having lost very little of their color and clarity.
I miss being little.
I long for a crack at it again - maybe just for a day.
I would return to Willoughby Street and start my day with a Nana omelet.
Maybe watch some price is right and then knit with Nana in the den while we watched General Hospital together.
Nothing special - just to go home for a day and absorb it all for old times sake.
Yup I am homesick and missing my Papa.
Missing my old life that has all but vanished.
Last year when I went home for my Papa's funeral - Mary and Toto and Nic and I did a drive around my childhood hood. We visited Chandlers pond where I fed the ducks as a little girl,
where we walked after Thanksgiving dinner, Nana and Papa in their Irish Knit sweaters - in between football games and dinner and the desert spread. (I never did get mince meat pie btw)
Chandlers pond to the weeping willow trees where I would run and hide on sullen girl days - days when I was mad at the world, or at a Father I didn't know,or saddened by a Mother that didn't like me much.
We drove by St.Johns seminary where I would ride my bike like a mad woman, inside the big black gates, along the best bike paths (not meant for bikes) where the acorns fell on my head a perfect percussion, as I sped through on my badness, arms up over my head like on a roller coaster -
"Look Cardinal Medeiros - NO HANDS!!!!!"
I was chastised by the Cardinal himself a lot - he was sweet and really liked me,
but none the less - the paths at the seminary were not meant for me and my big mouth or speeding orange bike with the bell that Papa put on the handle bars for me over thirty something years ago...
We visited 43 Willoughby street and wished that we had not -
Nothing quite like seeing your childhood home trashed and abused by the present owners.
Papa's front bushes were gone, the porch paint was all chipped and peeling off and well, the rest I won't even get into - it hurts too much to recall.
I just remember vividly standing with my 19 year old sister Courtney who has a wealth of her own good memories from 43, feeling like what was ours had been robbed and neglected to the point of being unrecognizable.
It sucked beyond - we two stood there arms around each other Thanking God that Papa had never seen his beloved 43 this way and that Nana, well Nana never would.
If we thought it hurt us - imagine them seeing it that way - well that would have killed their spirits, so Amen for that never happening....
I remember walking that day along the sidewalks in front of the house, feeling my little feet from all the years before, running, skipping walking right there on that concrete basically unchanged. The sewer drain by the driveway was the same as when I was a kid.
The crack in the sidewalk I always tripped over.
The little metal marker thingy for the water company in the walkway.
So much was the same as it had always been and yet,
everything is/was in that moment different.
Life is hard like that.
Makes me cry right now as I see myself at seven excitedly jumping out of my Mother's Green toyota and running up the steps to the the front door to ring their bell on Christmas morning.
The upstairs door would open, then the stairs would creak where the rug was worn thinner at the landing and the crest of arms hung facing you, it was then I could tell if it was Nana or Papa by the sound of their steps.
The bottom door would open, then the feet on the foyer entrance, than the front door would open where I stood waiting inside the screen door while my Mother barked that "you can carry more shit you know"
yeah well it's Christmas Ma and I got a Merry Christmas kiss inside me bursting to come out for Papa....
Oh how I wish I could have bottled that feeling and open it right now,
smell the smells of his cologne and the turkey cooking, the warmth of the house, the Christmas music playing, the feel of Papa's lap as I sat in it, my tights always making me fidget while I sat.
Those were good days - and Jo, well she is right I think - I am hungry for my Papa, hungry for the safety I always knew there at 43 Willoughby.
I miss my sisters too - I never see them - never talk to them and it makes me sad.
Life is too short and everything changes.
I proved last year on my pilgrimage through the memories that you can't go back - you just can't - no matter how much you want to.
I want to, OBVIOUSLY.
I hope that my Grandparents know what they gave me - I hope that while I was able, I made it crystal clear to them, that they gave me most everything that ended up being good about my life and are responsible for everything good that I am.
I hope I communicated that while I had the chance.
I hope my Nana feels me thinking of her now, way up in Boston in the nursing home that is so not even close to her home.
Sigh and cry.
I think 41 is going to be a big year for me - after all Dave has been singing to me about it for over a decade now - anticipation is built high...
I think it will be a life altering year and I pray in all good ways - I think as I approach what I feel will be life altering - I am in need of a little going back so that I never forget where I came from - where it was that I was built...
I miss it all - all what was....
and with that almost noon has turned to almost one and I need to get my ass in gear.
I have too much to do to sit and type all day - although clearly it is what I want to do.
I hope this week is easy - hope my daughter is better - hope the puffiness under my eyes goes down by Saturday and hope I do okay without all the NIPS and cheez its which I have sworn off for all their gluten and dairy yuck-ness.
Ah me - off to eat a rice cake and do work.
I hope you all have a blessed day.
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