B is for Beautiful Mess

Good Evening blog readers...
Guess what? I don't have to be anywhere or do anything the next 48 hours - sahweet.
For two weeks, school is no more.
I am so relieved.
I got up early this morning despite not having to be in class at 8am because I had a dermatologist appointment that I have been dreading - Good news, the tri-colored mole on my face is benign, no skin cancer - summer goddess is in the clear.
Funny thing happened, I momentarily fell asleep during the exam...
I guess being naked on my stomach and having someone touch every inch of my body was a little too much like a massage - God I need a massage.
I giggled sleepily and explained the state of my life to the Doc, he told me I was ambitious - what he really meant was insane.
Now that I know I am okay, I kinda cannot wait to soak up some Vitamin D - of course with a thick coating of sunscreen slathered on, I got the lecture by at least three people in the doctor's office - okay fine, SPF 15.
Then I went to a reading event at Mimz's school, then off to the grocery store where I dropped $250 on groceries (food will last like 3 days)
All throughout my day I was thrilled to not have to write any papers or read any books, thrilled to no end that I have nothing but a stack of bills due - no school work is a nice reprieve.
Although I was not focusing on assignments, I will admit I was fairly obsessed with grades - I must have logged in to check for grade postings at least 50 times today...
I am so impatient.
So far two have posted, an A in cultural geography and an A in African American literature, yesssss.
I am however, feeling a little disappointed with the 88 point total I see for psychology. Although it has yet to officially post, by my calculation this will earn me a B...My first ever college B. UGH...
I wanted to blame the teacher because he was impossible on so many levels, but Mary reminded me of the exam that I did not study for due to insomnia and therefore decided to pick the answers based on how happy they made me. I was not in a good way- sleep dep = irrational Deb.
Okay fine - I did less than my best for sure.
Truth is, this whole semester was a half assed effort at best.
It was all life interference - my personal shit was hectic and stressful to say the least.
Mom duty reigned supreme and my kids needed me - simple fact.
I know that all in all, I did my best with what I had left over to give - The last five months, if nothing else have been a lesson - I cannot do everything perfectly all the time - sometimes you gotta give less than you want to.
UGH - SIGH.
I will tell the truth here, I am beating myself up a little bit.
I am reflecting on how I maybe could have done it differently, given a little more, worked a little harder - but, I really do need to STOP THAT.
That is the old me who wants to obsess over failure rather than revel in my accomplishments.
Papa would say "I'm proud of you kid" and so in his honor I am going to be proud of myself too.
And with that I am tearing up, eyes are full with water.
I am proud of me, really proud.
I have four kids, I am forty, I have a job and I am a full time college student.
I am a rock freaking star - that's all there is to it.
So B be damned - Because I have gained more from these experiences than any grades or GPA can ever accurately define...
Yesterday I brought home the school literary magazine that features my first place winning essay - I have had the balls to put me out there and found that me = winner.
Most importantly, I have overcome the doubting me and that is the most monumental win of my life...
Better late than never.
And so, I will wait for the other three grades to post and not freak out when I see the B or my changed GPA -
Only pride, only pride, pride with no melanoma.
Blessings, sigh - Blessings.

Please don't disappear....

I came home tonight on an end of semester high - it's finally over, I am all done. For a split second immediately following the elated sigh of relief, I panicked and felt lost - like what do I do now? Good thing I am enrolled in summer classes....I'll admit it, I am an education junkie...Until summer classes begin, I plan to rest and attempt to put away the piles of laundry that have been accumulating for weeks.
Maybe I will sit in the sun and read a novel for pure pleasure purposes, maybe go to the gym and try to lose this extra weight I have gained so that I can fit in my summer clothes -
This brings me to the topic that has me blogging at 12:30 am - weight loss and body image.
I was on my phone earlier looking at a youtube video that someone posted on facebook - a simulation of what the voices associated with schizophrenia may sound like.
Interesting stuff to say the least. I scrolled down to other associated videos and saw a young girl in her underwear (teenager) the video title was "watch me shrink"
I had to see what this was and so I clicked on it and sat with my hand to my heart as I watched this beautiful girl pull and tug at her body, imagining that the skin she pulled away from her bones was excess fat rolls. She turned around and around for the camera pulling at her flesh, the flesh on her stomach, on her underarms, on her thighs...She pulled and pulled with fierce self hatred and such a distortion of reality.
I was really bothered by this, like really bothered.
When I scrolled down from there I found endless videos of the same nature - girls in their underwear before the camera hating themselves into oblivion and invisibility.
The title to one girls video - "watch me disappear"
I cannot express how much this upsets me.
I hate that this is an epidemic in this country - I hate that this is a trend, I hate that young girls and grown women do this to themselves to attain some desperate sense of control -
It is awful, just awful and I wish that it would stop.
But how will it? How can it when youtube posts thousands of videos of this nature and they appear to be some sick initiation rite or entry requirement to the skinny girl club?
Oh my God what is happening to body image?
The skinny obsession in the media has got to stop - we as a society have to say NO to this beauty ideal before it kills off the healthy self loving female spirit.
Sure I want to lose the weight I have gained since I started school, since I stopped running and going to pump - sure I don't want to have to buy a whole new summer wardrobe because my clothes don't fit - but not bad enough, never bad enough to starve myself.
We are meant to have curves girls, we are women, not twelve year old boys...
I have no energy left to write - I am too upset by the images that burn behind my lids when I blink.
There are endless videos like that, that means endless girls starving themselves right now....
Please ladies - love yourselves and rage against the idea that skinny = beautiful.

My name isn't June

Good Morning blog readers
So this is it....Last class, last final tonight. I am feeling fairly broken so I am relieved that it all ends tonight. This last exam shouldn't be too terrible, it's mostly literature, art and music - three of my favorite things - I should be able to regurgitate it all with little effort - I hope.
I realized yesterday that Matthew and Emma's father is so frustrated with my face in a computer it is taking every ounce of energy for him not to kill me - he just doesn't get it - has nooooo idea how much work goes in to a full college semester, I think he far prefers me in the kitchen or with a mop in my hand...
Unfortunately for all my family, I am kinda over the domesticated wife thing and they are stuck fending for themselves.
I guess in some way I feel a little guilty for not being the house keeper I once was, but you know what? I am not the only one with working arms and legs in this house and most certainly not the only one with eyeballs.
The pile of shit on the floor is not mine and I know you all see it too.
humph.
I may be a little bitter this morning - maybe just a tad.
The thing is this - I stayed home with my kids when they were babies - none of my children ever went to daycare AND I always worked in some capacity - always have, always will.
In the most recent years (since Mimzy) I have in fact worked every weekend since she was weaned off breast milk (Oh did I mention I breast fed all my kids too?)
we are going on year six of being at work while the rest of the world has down time and R&R. Essentially Friday and Saturday are my Wednesday and Thursday and I don't get home until 10pm - it sucks.
I don't get R&R unless I fight for it and then I am a neglect-or, grrr.
Sunday is my only day that I do not have to be anywhere - and during this last semester Sunday is the day I collapse from exhaustion and fall down dead - barely able to function and wearing a face that says "why should I?" -
Pisses my family off to no end.
Well I am just tired, how nice for you all that you have energy to play.
Yes I am bitter today, no doubt about it.
I want so much for my children especially, to understand the value of education - I want them to see my exhaustion and alleged neglect in context to the bigger picture.
They are fairly patient with me for the most part, but I have an idea that a little birdie whispers negative things in their ears which casts me in a less than perfect light in their eyes.
This kinda hurts and really pisses me off.
Not sure why it is always the woman's job to be thoroughly and completely selfless?
Anyone have that answer?
I know at some point then men of the clan had to go out and hunt and kill to bring home the supper, the tribal women couldn't hunt with babies hanging form their breasts, but really - times have changed.
The way I see it - I gave up my college experience and a professional life to take care of my kids - no daycares - Mom at the bus stop every damn day - AND I have been at it for twenty one years now. Oh, and I ALWAYS made money too, let's not forget that....Contributed in every sense of the word.
Can't a woman have her life too, have some identity other than maid/mom/taxi and not have to feel persecuted for it????
I am happy that this semester is ending - glad that I have two full weeks before summer classes begin....Happy that as it now stands, I am only signed up for two. Big sigh of relief.
I just hope for my families sake they all realize that this summer I write the book....Me being out of full time classes does not = no work for Mommy Dearest.
I have my own personal goals and shit is getting crossed off my list, like it or not.
My life is also mine and I am not a fan of swiffers or the vacuum.
For all you who will judge me, I am certainly not suggesting that this was not my choice - of course it was, having kids and being a Mom has always been my doing and #1 priority.
Priorities evolve and I am now on that list too, right at the top.
Maybe what I realize that Dan does not, is that a Mother who feels incomplete is not as good as a Mother who feels whole - even if that does mean more work for the rest of the clan.
Okay enough venting - I am off to shower and get ready for work and then off to class until ten pm tonight (like I don't bust my ass)
wish me luck on my last final - yay for the final final...
And maybe tomorrow I will be June Cleaver - on second thought, yeah no....

A Las vegas Mothers Day

Happy Mothers Day !!!
This morning as I sit propped in bed, bleary eyed from my hell week, coffee on my nightstand, computer teetering my knees, I am reminiscing about Mothers Day 2009 and wishing I had a time machine...
Mothers Day 2009 was epic, I dare say the grandness of that spectacular weekend shall never be duplicated or surpassed.
I went to Las Vegas Nevada with my BFF Mary, just her and I.... No kids.... yesssss
And boy did I catch hell for that...
First, my soon to be ex-husband spat venom about me "leaving" my kids on Mothers Day -
How could I do such a thing?
Oh please, I think they'll live - real issue at hand was me loose in VEGAS!
Then my ex-friend unleashed her self righteous, holier than thou crap on me and tried to damn me to hell - ohhh ahhh ewwww, what kind of Mother leaves her kids on Mothers Day????
I'll tell you what kind - Me and Mary, two of the most dedicated, committed and loving Mothers you'll ever find, yessir me and Mary, that's who - bye bye.
And imagine that...two years later and my kids are alive and bear no emotional scars from my leaving them on MY DAY. humph.
Thankfully, I remember the entire trip vividly and I can recall the moments regularly, I just close my eyes and return to the lights, sounds and action of Las Vegas -
OH MY...
The events are too many to tell here, but I'll share some favorite snippets to make you green with envy...
First there was the over book at the airport - "anyone who wants to give up their seat to take a later flight earns a free ticket anywhere in the continental US"
Um yeah, score!
And I still arrived in Vegas before Mirm in plenty of time to have the crusty bartender at the airport bar get me drunk off one margarita, 3/4ths tequila one part margarita mix (the Vegas way)
Mary landed, we were an airport spectacle of love and joy, then the cab ride off to the emerald casino/hotel. At our first red light we pulled up to a drunk girl in the passenger seat of a huge pick-up truck belting a Michael McDonald song much to the chagrin of her testy boyfriend. Because we are instigators by nature and a soul sister always needs back up singers, we chimed in and made a fast friend, "fuck yeah" and a fist pump to the air as the light turned green and they sped away.
Welcome to Vegas, yee haw.
Wardrobe change at the MGM, off to eat, and then to the most rocking club where we danced on tables until the wee hours of four am - there were cosmo's for her tequila shots for me, Mary proceeded to destroy the confidence of an albino man and the transvestites were wearing beauty Padget banners...yesss.
We stumbled to our room at 7am, attempted to sleep, gave up and ordered red bulls from room service.
I began day one with a self induced puke (my first time) initially thinking I had failed miserably for nothing at all happened but fierce gagging and retching - then suddenly my stomach seized so hard I puked my guts out and also peed involuntarily. Nice.
We began our day at the buffet from hell, more food than I have ever seen in one place - I had a diet pepsi and mashed potato's - my theory behind this meal, gotta create a coating for the stomach, a good base for alcohol consumption - then I killed the dessert bar (so much for my no sugar diet)
Then off to see the MGM lion (so cool) then exclusive pool party time.
I love Las Vegas pools, the people are too hot for the eyes - I mean seriously too hot, yum.
We drank pina colada's all day in the Nevada sun, then packed up and checked into the luxurious Trump Plaza hotel where both Mary and I wanted to live forever and ever and ever.
We showered, got sexy, then back to the MGM for the Dave Matthews Band with opening act Jason Mraz. Really is this happening?
Now, I must explain here that a dear sweet lady in my store, several moths previous had warned me about the stilettos in Vegas - she said leave them home, do comfort.
Yeah right, no stilettos in Vegas - if not Vegas than where?
So Mary and I strutted in stilettos from hell and were in hell, as we were paraded through the entire venue with security who were getting us to the "correct" pre-concert party. (old crow was right on - stilettos = uncompromising pain)
We were served lovely drinks at the "right" party and just as we sipped, we were accosted by other security guards - we were in the wrong place again... I said "well I am finishing my drink soooo" - than we were booted, I was a good girl and didn't make a fuss...
To our seats, in front of a Dave head and his bubble headed girlfriend who didn't know CCR on the loudspeaker and giggled a lot about nothing in her I just sucked a helium balloon voice - Oh what men will put up with for a little snatch...
Jason finally came out and we cheered the loudest - on my god there is our boy, and of course he sang beautiful mess - we linked arms, swayed and cried because what else can the original beautiful messes do but cry for their own anthem? Perfection, I mean really it was perfect.
Than Jason says "You ready to get your DMB on?" and the crowd went crazy,the lights went on, the music started and off we go..
Now for all of you who do not know DMB well, Leroi Moore the saxophone player had recently died in the midst of making the grux album - this was the first time Mary and I would hear the band without our beloved Leroi and the new music from the album dedicated to him - it was surreal, the whole night, I mean I couldn't have dreamed it any better - one of the most spiritual and emotional events of my life and I pretty much did the Deb ugly laugh cry the whole damn night.
Then the craziest shit happened, which will not sound spectacular to you, but I assure you it was....
DMB played the most insane version of SO DAMN LUCKY that I have ever heard. It was like an outer body thing, the screaming and the repetition and the rain drops on the big screen and the lights, round and around and around....He went on forever and ever I cried as though I had just been born - Me in Vegas with my girl and I am surviving this marital separation,kids ate okay, I am enrolled to begin school, I have a best friend that never fails and I am in tact and just so DAMN LUCKY.
The girl in front of us turned to face the screaming mess that I was and high ten'd me, said "you're the best DMB fan ever" - smart, cute girl you have absolutely no idea.
The next day was supposed to be a recovery mission by the Trump pool, rest and relaxation- and it was, except we hooked up poolside with Kevin Thilborger a compadre to no end so inevitably the patron shots started coming by way of the sexy bikini wearing waitress (Vegas is so sexy)
We made the mistake of not hydrating with anything other than alcohol - we were so distracted by the wolf man and the torrid going's on a round us that we forgot we were in Nevada heat and water is a necessity.
Needless to say we were three sheets to the wind and sunburned to boot.
At some point Mary and I thought it was a good idea to synchronize swim and do in water acrobatics - so drunk = not so smart.
I did a scissor hand stand a the jolly green giant ever so gracefully dove through my legs like a sea world Dolpin.
Kevin was so ecstatic my our performance we did it again, only second go round Mary's breasts caught up in my crotch and I was driven head first to the bottom of pool.
I thought I was paralyzed, Mary was too drunk to take me seriously,
I asked her like 15 times if I was okay - would paralysis be automatic with a broken neck or would it happen over time?
OMG.
Got no time for fatal injuries, tonight is James and Jason at the Pearl.
Back to our room, Mary calls room service, answers the door in her terry robe with her pretty cleavage peeking and sloshes her cubes in her drink. We were so made for the good life - Mary lovessss room service.
As I lay on the tiled floor of a shower cube bigger than my house with the water beating down on me, I thought maybe the neck injury had in fact killed me.... Was Mary really in a robe like that, such pretty ski lifts and she looked so beautiful in the steamy light, so warm up against that white terry robe with the marble tiles as her backdrop - I think I am in heaven.
No just drunk and drowning in the trump shower - oh tequila, how much I love thee.
Oh Las Vegas how corrupting you are...
Showered and stiffly upright, still thinking paralysis is inevitable, off to dinner and the mIdnight show at the pearl.
We were so burned and so tired and so hungover, that we again, ordered red bulls at dinner to accompany the alcohol, hoping we would have stamina to get beyond the time change, midnight is three am to East Coast gals.
In my butterfly dress (butterfly babbyyyyyy - a present from Mary just for the show) I stumbled through the Palms casino arm and arm with my one true love...
Heaven I am in heaven.
Finally in our seats, next to the two most awkward teenagers on a date, we settled in for James who when began singing, prompted my mouth to hand open in disbelief. OMG his voice and the Pearls seamless sound system..
Quickly, Mary jumped up to cozily speak to a security man who can only be described as chocolate love perfection and before I knew it she was motioning me to c'mon..
Down to the stage side we went, led by chocolate lover and yesssss we are on the floor.
Then Jason and the repetitive nature of perfect concerts....He began "HAPPY MOTHERS DAY ALL YOU CRAZY MOTHER FUCKERS" (love him)
We danced like we have never danced before and he sang us (almost) all our favorite songs.... a continuum of the best nights ever.
We got the set list, cause that's what we do and marveled at a couple of old groupies we aspire to be like one day when we are old...
Back to the taxi line from hell, Mary's purse molested by a crack head and finally sleep at the Trump Plaza.
Last day at the Bellagio, lovely Mother's day lunch at the hotel, marvel at the butterfly gardens and glass sculptures, then shopping all day in the Grecian themed malls. Wow, really another freaking world.
One of my favorite times spent in a mall bar, free drinks from the Boston bartender and hours of quiet talking, two best friends on a perfect Mothers day - love her, love her talks - love her with all my silly little heart.
Then more casino's, lots of alcohol and back to the Bellage for a few hours rest before our flights home.
This is merely an outline - the details of this weekend are so many that in effect I have enough material to write a book...
It was without a doubt the best Mother's day I have ever had.
Sure Mothers day with your kids and their home made cards and breakfast in bed is magnificent - but, a weekend away from Motherhood to celebrate the role that defines your very existence is sometimes just what a good Mother needs.
Debauchery Vegas style is in high order after twenty years of being called MOM.
I cannot thank Mary enough for this trip or her friendship - it really is a blessing beyond what words can describe.
I had, simply put, the best time ever.
This Mothers day is far more quiet and the tiredness that hangs on me is just from my life, unfortunately not tequila and raucous partying.
Even though it is of the simple nature- this day is great too none the less.
In fact last night, right around the witching hour, my seventeen year old plopped his head in my lap and asked me to sing landslide to him like I used to when he was little... I rubbed his hair, and kissed his face and he didn't fight me or pull away. sigh....
I was in another kind of Mothers day heaven that also made me cry.
If you are a Mom, Happy Happy Mothers Day.
What you are, is the most important person in the world - you do the most important job. Props to you.
Motherhood is hard, really hard.
Motherhood gives you a love that both sustains and sucks the living life right out of you.
It is a see-saw of emotions.
I hope today is a great day for you all.
I hope you all get treated like the beautiful Queens you are.
And if you have never had an epic mothers day away like the one I described - I highly suggest you book a trip for next year.
Memories like these will give you fuel for the long motherhood haul.
And with that, off to my adoring children.

Mirm - thanks for everything you crazy mother fucker - I love you.

menacing crow be gone

Okay so two blogs in one morning = girl avoiding real life. It is what it is....
So here I am here again writing, only this time full of panic. I just viewed a large black crow shimmying her way down the railing, straight for Mother red breasts nest.I ran outside like it were my own kids being threatened to find that nasty hungry bird fully prepared to stand her ground. She stared at me, bore me down with her eyes as if to say, those eggs are my next meal.
Oh my God.
I lunged towards her, fully prepared myself to take her out and lose an eye if I must, and she finally retreated to the sky, her black wings spread out like Voldemort's cloak, or even worse the wicked witch's silky cape. I am a wreck.
Naturally I called Mary who has no patience for my nonsense as she is working and a spread sheet was otherwise pissing her off - she simply said "It is the way of nature" or something to that truthful effect.
Really a bird eats another birds eggs? - dislike.
I feel powerless to change the order of things and am really hoping that this whole nest in my Nana's plant thing isn't a lesson in the way of the world for me and my kids. I had such high hopes for something else...
But sigh, that is the disappointment of real life and so I fear I must internally prepare for the worst.
It hurts me to think of that poor Mother bird working so hard for her babies and in the end having them disappear before her helpless eyes.
Can a robin duke it out with a crow?
I sure hope so.
Motherhood is hard.
Motherhood can end badly.
Makes me think of all the Mother's who battle for their kids - some to just get them born... Some who fight for them to live through illness.
We all have black crows to face at one point or another...
I want to intervene, rescue that nest, but me approaching it is as fateful as that stalking black bird - this I know for sure.
She and I, we represent the same thing to Mother red breast.
So I guess I will just have to hope for the best like always in life, and pray with all my might that the eggs survive the battle of nature.
dislike dislike dislike (my how facebook language pervades)
Off to shower, dress and work and leave this whole scene behind.
Really wish I owned a slingshot...

Hell hath no eye lids

Good Morning blog followers and readers,
Let me begin by saying THANK YOU to all of you who click the link each day and find your way into my head. Knowing that people read my incessant ramblings is like a jumper cable charge to my heart.
Just so you all know, I am quite possibly the worst editor in the world - when I quickly scan through my blogs before I hit the post button and free my writing to the open web, I never see the typos, grammatical mishaps, or worst of all the mis-spellings - I apologize for my messiness, I know it makes some of you (Tiffany) cringe. If only there was a voice recorder blog(sigh) - oh my, I would never shut up....
Last night, immediately before my grateful eyelids finally fell shut, I was re-reading a play by Jean-Paul Sartre titled NO EXIT. This text is one among a zillion that will be covered on my Humanities exam on Monday night. (See, I did study!)
Basically it's a play about three newly deceased people who are introduced to hell, which funny enough, is simply a room that they cannot leave. No fire pits, no torture chambers, no bubbling cauldrons and no Satan - just themselves and no eye lids...
I LOVE this play, think it is brilliant beyond words.
Imagine if that is the reality??? Oh my - bring on the hot licking flames I say.
These three mis-matched (or so they think) people are left to face their inner demons by way of having no other alternative - each character is meant to expose the flaws in the other - by way of an odd number, creating a triangle of inescapable truth. No mirrors, no sleep, no eye lids.
Yowza - hell hath no fury.
That got me thinking, and subsequently dreaming about what I have hidden deep down in my soul that would haunt me if I were to meet that exact same fate?
It's a pretty tough exercise to put yourself through - I assure you.
For me personally, I would definitely have to reckon with my vanity - the no mirror thing would be really annoying. I am, plainly put - a little vain. I will say that I am trying to overcome this ugly trait - I have really really tried hard in recent years to accept myself as I am and to not concentrate on the outer shell as the thing that defines me. I am this crazy head and heart, not my hair or my stretchmarks.
In this society however... that is easier said than done.
Beauty = power in America, but it's a power that also means being objectified, minimized and reduced to your sexual parts and in the long run, what that incites in others.
Oh, lets not forget judgment and hate. It was one of my favorite musicians Alana Davis that said "Everyone hates the prettiest girl in the room"
Exactly, so well said, so true Alana...
I think I am better suited for funniest or better yet, kindest or more appropriately, craziest.
Oh, perfect time for my Nana's voice - "Deb-o-rah Ann, pretty is as pretty does"
Yes vanity - gotta keep fighting that fight - still have work to do.
Seventeen extra pounds does not negate my value....
repeat.
Also, I can be quite intolerant. I know right, me? Yes me... Dr. Martin Luther King is my intolerance savior, he has helped me tremendously in this inner battle.
What I love most about Dr.King is that even in the face of such discrimination and brutality, he continued to hold love his fellow man, even the worst of the oppressors.
When he was faced with stupidity, he conjured up forgiveness for the morons shortcomings. He was able (miraculously) to remember human imperfection and ignorance and chose to teach it out of his enemies by example instead of fight back.
Gotta hug the people you want to strangle...
In my past, I have been the type to smile at someone who has fucked me over while grinding my teeth all to hell inside my fake smiling mouth, and simultaneously swallow and gag all the things I really want to say.
Since my Dr. King love thy oppressor applications, I have foamed at the mouth with ugliness a lot less.
But, I still have a lot of work to do - have to try to (genuinely) be more tolerant of idiots and those who hurt... Hold up - gotta clarify - not tolerant of their behavior in a submissive way - just not venomous and hell damning in my reaction.
Although if hell is a place with no eye lids, I got a few nominees...Stop it Deb - see - ugh work to do.
But, hey at least I am honest.
And honesty, what about that concept hmmmm?
I am not sure that I believe we have to be honest about everything, at least in terms of divulging everything to everyone. Some secrets are meant to be kept and some things are just meant to be secrets, period.
I think as long as you can be brutally honest with yourself - this action is crucial.
In my opinion, when you lie to yourself and then the lie you have told yourself becomes an untruth you spread around to the masses - well then you got problems and the biggest problem is that you cannot be honest with yourself. When you have to lie to your own reflection - then you are in real trouble.
I have secrets and secret plans and secret schemes, and sure some of them would get me in trouble with others - good thing I know enough to keep them to myself, cause me, well I am okay with my darkness and see it very clearly, embrace it daily.
The force is strong with me and I know it, therefore I keep it in honest check inside myself.
Because here it is folks, get ready.... It's human nature to have a dark side...
The real grace and wisdom that comes with aging (in my opinion) is that you finally accept it and learn to do the dance - question becomes, who leads this jaunt around the floor? The good or the bad?
For me, it's most definitely good the majority of the time - as for the trouble making Miss bad ass, well I let her have her way sometimes too - otherwise she would swell up inside me out of pure boredom and the good-doing levee would bust wide open, unleash all my inner wicked and ultimately destroy the world.
I am doing you all a favor by letting her out to play a little - trust me.
I just had the worst thought and literally shuddered.
Maybe my hell room would consist of nothing, just me, no one to talk to, no music and nothing to write with - no purple box, no pencil, no sheet of paper even... OMG
I feel a little nauseous.
I think I need some air and stat - with that, I think I will go find my little slice of heaven outside and talk to Mother red breast, see how the eggs are coming along...
And practice blinking (a lot) while I still have eye lids.
Peace out.

Almost over (tear)

Phew - sigh of relief as I pull off my bra, put up my feet and log into my computer for my own purposes.
Wait I didn't mean that the way it came out - education is my purpose - I meant to say, logged in for the fuck of it.
Sorry for the sailor mouth, no actually I am not, it's who I am and you are reading of your own volition - no apologies.
So....I took the religion exam in 4 minutes and 35 seconds to be exact - truth is, I am pretty sure I aced it, yesssss.
Out of all the questions, one gave me pause and I answered on intuition which is the way of Mahayana Zen, so even if I get it wrong, in my own way I got it right through application, so I say point on my scoreboard either way.
As I was exiting the building after my exam, I had that same overwhelming desire to ugly cry, it happens at the end of every semester. Sure part of it is relief, but really the main ingredient to the post-semester bawl is just how freaking happy I am to be me.
I love this life so much more now that I am a student, and although my goal is to write my book, and then live the easily life as a published author (yeah right) I honestly, really truly want to stay in school forever and ever and ever.
Not only do I love education, I love the people.
I will admit with no hesitation, that I am in love with four out of my five professors from this semester and even the fifth, although not quite at love, fancy in some unexplainable way.
My Humanities professor Jessica is quite possibly as luminous as the July sun, she glows with enthusiasm, intelligence, warmth and humor - plus she is pint sized which makes her punch all the less expected and I thoroughly enjoy surprises. My religions professor Kate is young, adorable and brilliant beyond comprehension (Oxford and Sanskrit, oh my) and when you throw in as distract-able as a young child, the total package is simply breathtaking.
Then the men, oh the men - There is Chris my GEO professor whose smile and good humor makes eight am feel more like happy hour at a local bar where everyone knows your name - His pacing up and down the aisle is like a dance you wanna learn the steps to, follow his lead by way of cultural awareness. I adore this guys teaching style which is serious business at a comedy club. Loved him, just loved him - great smile and wit.
Then we have English, oh English how you make my heart beat right out my chest. My English professor, the good Doctor, is for me, alike the mad hatter at the tea party, naturally I would be a combo of Alice and the Cheshire cat in relation - enough said.
I just loved the assorted flavors of this semester - now maybe I am just hungry and so I pull up to the feast more ravenous than others, but yeah no - they were unique characters I will never forget.
And then we have the students....Oh the students - how I love the mix of old timers like me and all the newborns so cute, so silly and (really?) yeah, so firm.
I remember, however vaguely, when my skin was that tight and responsibility was a distant star in a far away galaxy...

Some of my favs, have been from English no doubt. There are my table mates Nikki and Q who packed in like sardines on top of me as I edged off the wall trying to fight claustrophobia - no really I liked it. Nikki is smart, funny and insightful as shit. And Q, he is just Q and I adore him - a good kid on his way to being a really good man.
Oh and who can forget that hottie, whose name I can never remember but his face lingers on the eyes long after they have dreamily blinked - he is natural male beauty at it's finest and will smolder in the hearts of many women to come. Effortlessly edible, yes sir.

My religions class had the most diverse group of people I have ever been in a room with, my favorite naturally hung out in my corner, a group of whack jobs if I have ever been a part of one - we laughed at private jokes the whole way through - but Mary, sweet Mary and her pretty cane, she warmed nicely in my heart cockles - sweetest girl I ever did meet.

Psychology was dry like stale wonder bread, less that one girl who always asked the stupidest questions... She was like peanut butter to an otherwise inedible sanwich. We had no room for personality in this class - it was all geared to endorphin killing...

Humanities, well now - we have some personality going there - Iman who will argue me down on any point while simultaneously looking at me curiously, going huh - and thinking what is it about her that makes me want to argue? And then we have Kristen who is just a tall glass of water with the giggles - and Patrick, whose tan and muscles and familiar face always make me wish I was twenty and not good friends to his sister - then my diagonal neighbor, Brittany.... Brittany is anarchist from the word go and will be the head of some fine feminine revolution one day - her read hair, Elvis Costello glasses and nose ring make me want to be the feminine lesbian counterpart to her angst and she's not even gay...

And Geo, oh Geo - the two girls from food lion who see me frazzled in the grocery store trying not to succumb to my childrens incessant begging for candy - they know the truth about me - and oh, the pretty Fluvanna girls who went to school with my kids and still laughed at my jokes - oh and the guy up front who takes himself far, far too seriously and Mary again - sweet, genuine Mary.

Oh how I will miss them all... I bet you now understand why I wanna ugly cry at the beauty of my life - so many people - so little time.
And on that note - I have a few straggling assignments that I need to sew up and one more exam I should study for - note, I said should.

I hope you all have a glorious day and if you read this and are one of the people I mentioned - yes you really are that great - and yeah thanks so much for our time together...

till next time, peace.