Good Morning folks,
Wow what a rainy day in Virginia - have I mentioned I don't do the rain well?
I realized this morning that I have worked a new "debism" into my catalog. Lately, whenever a re-occurring annoyance is acknowledged, I say "this is the plight of my life"
I say it a lot teasingly. For instance, living with Gretel who leaves a trail of shit behind her wherever she goes "Mimz your messes are the plight of my life."
I think I dig it so much because I can work it into song "you plight of my life, you give me shit to always pick up" - see what I mean? Works well for sarcastic singing, which I do constantly.
I have a lot of "debisms"
"for the love of God"
"Whatever"
"the thing is" or "the thing about it is"
"I mean, REALLY?"
The list goes on and on....
If you are in my life and have convo's with me, you are bound to hear these words regularly, with precision and articulation, they are verbal exclamation points, question marks or periods, like - "whatever" = ........
I think it is kind of hilarious the way people have their 'isms' and that they become identifiable pieces of their persona.
And with that the clock is stalking me, it's incessant ticking is telling me to get ready for work, no time for blogs.
I mean like whatever, the thing about that damn clock is that it annoys me, it never has enough minutes to go around and timelessness is the plight of my life, for the love of God how I wish there were more hours in the day.
Ha.
Have a great day.
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Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Not suitable for children or assholes.
This one is going to be kinda raw - if you are not into raw, do not read.
A few days a month I get lonely for the companionship of another human being.
On these days I tend to feel a bit sorry for myself, get hopeless and wonder will I ever know the love of a man again - hell, will I ever have intimacy again?
Sometimes I even cry - usually in my car with the stereo blaring some unrequited love song that does little to drown out my bawling but rather causes me to wail louder.
It's stupid, I know it's stupid.
For two years I was separated from my husband with a purposeful intention to NOT get involved in any SERIOUS relationships. I dabbled a little with flirtation and toyed with possibilities that never really amounted to anything other than steamy fantasies.
I needed to be alone - needed to stand on my own two feet, get to know myself so that I could carve a proper path...
I know so many women who go from man to man, husband to husband and NEVER find themselves.
I KNOW I had to do this solitary time and I actually loved it, I mean really grew to love it and in turn, love me.
Don't get me wrong - it was hard, really hard and in the beginning, Jesus, I almost didn't make it through - it was touch and go there for a bit, some nights when the kids were away with Dan, the silence almost killed me.
But, I went to school, began to write all the shit out of my system and eventually cherished the silence, longed for my two hour steaming baths with the candles, incense and my music - longed for no one to make a single demand or request of my time.
Over time, I even grew to forget about sex.
Well sort of - you single girls know what that looks like....
I just managed to deal and find my fulfillment elsewhere.
It was good for me.
That whole 'no sex is good for me thing' is beginning to wear off now.
Mind you Dan and I did move back in together a year ago, but nothing changed in our relationship - I changed, but he had not and therefore we did not. Takes two.
And so, for the last year I have been sharing a house with a man but not a life.
It's super lame and super frustrating.
And like I said, the whole no sex thing is really starting to wear on me.
What is so different now, is that although I can live my life with myself and cope,
I have become someone who has so much to give.
Growing into myself over the last few years has really changed the way I perceive relationships, the things I hope to gain and hope to give to another human being.
And....Lately I feel SO SO SO SO ME.
I feel like I am the me that I should be, the way I feel, the way I look, all of it.
Even the imperfections feel completely perfect, I feel like I am finally myself.
Now that I feel this, I kinda long to share it with someone that is in the same place with themselves, someone that can appreciate what it is to truly be happy with yourself.
As a woman this whole forties thing is pretty banging.
I will admit that when I was twenty, shit was way more taut and way more perky, but when I was twenty, even thirty with as much of a kitten as I was,
I was not comfortable in my own skin - so the taut was wasted.
What I have going on now - is brick house worthy - the inside and the outside are mighty mighty.
It seems a shame to feel this way, to be this way and be celibate.
Jesus Help me.
Am I wrong?
I just think that when you are un-healthy, intimacy cannot possibly reach it's potential....How can it?
Now that I am healthy and happy and self satisfied, what would it be like to make love to a man that is in the same place?
Yowza right?
So...I am lonely a little bit.
Still okay by myself and still prepared to do the long haul of my life alone rather than compromise what is right and good for me,
but a tad lonely.
I wonder sometimes, is there a man out there that can handle me? I am a lot to handle.
I know I am a big personality, and now one with even less tolerance for asshole behavior, sigh.
There may not be the man....
There are people who have told me to just get laid - and duh I could totally do that - I have offers all the time - but what good would that do ?(and please chime in if you can plead a convincing case that it would),
I feel that would just rob the worthy man of getting his just due, cause if he ever shows up, he's getting a goddess with absolutely no hang ups.
I know this is the right thing but still, it's hard some days.
Guess it's a good thing I am the strongest woman I know...
I am listening to Ben Harper 'Two hands of a prayer' right now - the line 'she softly kissed my mind, my mind and whispered, what will we do with time, do with time?' - I'm holding out for that kind of sex.
Yup.
A few days a month I get lonely for the companionship of another human being.
On these days I tend to feel a bit sorry for myself, get hopeless and wonder will I ever know the love of a man again - hell, will I ever have intimacy again?
Sometimes I even cry - usually in my car with the stereo blaring some unrequited love song that does little to drown out my bawling but rather causes me to wail louder.
It's stupid, I know it's stupid.
For two years I was separated from my husband with a purposeful intention to NOT get involved in any SERIOUS relationships. I dabbled a little with flirtation and toyed with possibilities that never really amounted to anything other than steamy fantasies.
I needed to be alone - needed to stand on my own two feet, get to know myself so that I could carve a proper path...
I know so many women who go from man to man, husband to husband and NEVER find themselves.
I KNOW I had to do this solitary time and I actually loved it, I mean really grew to love it and in turn, love me.
Don't get me wrong - it was hard, really hard and in the beginning, Jesus, I almost didn't make it through - it was touch and go there for a bit, some nights when the kids were away with Dan, the silence almost killed me.
But, I went to school, began to write all the shit out of my system and eventually cherished the silence, longed for my two hour steaming baths with the candles, incense and my music - longed for no one to make a single demand or request of my time.
Over time, I even grew to forget about sex.
Well sort of - you single girls know what that looks like....
I just managed to deal and find my fulfillment elsewhere.
It was good for me.
That whole 'no sex is good for me thing' is beginning to wear off now.
Mind you Dan and I did move back in together a year ago, but nothing changed in our relationship - I changed, but he had not and therefore we did not. Takes two.
And so, for the last year I have been sharing a house with a man but not a life.
It's super lame and super frustrating.
And like I said, the whole no sex thing is really starting to wear on me.
What is so different now, is that although I can live my life with myself and cope,
I have become someone who has so much to give.
Growing into myself over the last few years has really changed the way I perceive relationships, the things I hope to gain and hope to give to another human being.
And....Lately I feel SO SO SO SO ME.
I feel like I am the me that I should be, the way I feel, the way I look, all of it.
Even the imperfections feel completely perfect, I feel like I am finally myself.
Now that I feel this, I kinda long to share it with someone that is in the same place with themselves, someone that can appreciate what it is to truly be happy with yourself.
As a woman this whole forties thing is pretty banging.
I will admit that when I was twenty, shit was way more taut and way more perky, but when I was twenty, even thirty with as much of a kitten as I was,
I was not comfortable in my own skin - so the taut was wasted.
What I have going on now - is brick house worthy - the inside and the outside are mighty mighty.
It seems a shame to feel this way, to be this way and be celibate.
Jesus Help me.
Am I wrong?
I just think that when you are un-healthy, intimacy cannot possibly reach it's potential....How can it?
Now that I am healthy and happy and self satisfied, what would it be like to make love to a man that is in the same place?
Yowza right?
So...I am lonely a little bit.
Still okay by myself and still prepared to do the long haul of my life alone rather than compromise what is right and good for me,
but a tad lonely.
I wonder sometimes, is there a man out there that can handle me? I am a lot to handle.
I know I am a big personality, and now one with even less tolerance for asshole behavior, sigh.
There may not be the man....
There are people who have told me to just get laid - and duh I could totally do that - I have offers all the time - but what good would that do ?(and please chime in if you can plead a convincing case that it would),
I feel that would just rob the worthy man of getting his just due, cause if he ever shows up, he's getting a goddess with absolutely no hang ups.
I know this is the right thing but still, it's hard some days.
Guess it's a good thing I am the strongest woman I know...
I am listening to Ben Harper 'Two hands of a prayer' right now - the line 'she softly kissed my mind, my mind and whispered, what will we do with time, do with time?' - I'm holding out for that kind of sex.
Yup.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Momma's Mimz - just a quick sleepy thought.
Here I am typing when I should be sleeping - I can't help myself although I really should.
The strangest thing has been happening lately, I see my own face when my daughter looks at me.
I see the younger me, the kid version, a reflection long since changed - but my own none the less.
Except, it's her.
Last night after I came home from work, Matthew and his Dad went out for boy time - this left me and my Mimz all alone (rare) for a few hours.
We decided that a hot bath would be a good place to start followed by homemade perfect popcorn and a movie.
We soaked in the tub flapping our gums until the water turned icy.
It was the best bath I have taken in a long time.
We caught up on all the second grade gossip - I know a lot about every kid in her class and all the antics on the school bus.
We discussed feminine things, like when a girl starts her period and why some girls have big boobs and some girls get none.
We talked about blond vs. brown hair, straight hair vs. curly - her blue eyes vs. my green.
I promised her - most things change - hair, boobs and boys.
We discussed her education, how great she is at reading and what a fabulous writer she has become.
She says she wants to write just like me (that makes my heart flame), I love that my own daughter sees me as a writer.
We talked and talked as our skin wrinkled and we began to shiver - it was perfection all around.
We drained the tub, moisturized, got on pj's and made pop-corn, then we snuggled on the couch and stuffed our faces.
Thing about my Emma, is that I love spending time with her, being with her is effortless, feels like being with an extension of the best part of myself.
That is what she is, the best parts of me - and so, so so so much more.
I can't believe how lucky I am.
She is amazing beyond.
I make a point, every day to tell her that - you are amazing, the best thing that ever happened to me, a sweet, smart, kind little girl -
I tell her constantly - I love you.
She turns 8 tomorrow and I can't believe it, how the time just ticks on by, but also that life ever existed without or before her.
Feels like she has always been with me.
That is why it feels so nuts when she looks at me and I see myself - it's the her that was always in me waiting to be born.
She's awesome.
Happy Birthday my Mimzy, so glad you're here.
The strangest thing has been happening lately, I see my own face when my daughter looks at me.
I see the younger me, the kid version, a reflection long since changed - but my own none the less.
Except, it's her.
Last night after I came home from work, Matthew and his Dad went out for boy time - this left me and my Mimz all alone (rare) for a few hours.
We decided that a hot bath would be a good place to start followed by homemade perfect popcorn and a movie.
We soaked in the tub flapping our gums until the water turned icy.
It was the best bath I have taken in a long time.
We caught up on all the second grade gossip - I know a lot about every kid in her class and all the antics on the school bus.
We discussed feminine things, like when a girl starts her period and why some girls have big boobs and some girls get none.
We talked about blond vs. brown hair, straight hair vs. curly - her blue eyes vs. my green.
I promised her - most things change - hair, boobs and boys.
We discussed her education, how great she is at reading and what a fabulous writer she has become.
She says she wants to write just like me (that makes my heart flame), I love that my own daughter sees me as a writer.
We talked and talked as our skin wrinkled and we began to shiver - it was perfection all around.
We drained the tub, moisturized, got on pj's and made pop-corn, then we snuggled on the couch and stuffed our faces.
Thing about my Emma, is that I love spending time with her, being with her is effortless, feels like being with an extension of the best part of myself.
That is what she is, the best parts of me - and so, so so so much more.
I can't believe how lucky I am.
She is amazing beyond.
I make a point, every day to tell her that - you are amazing, the best thing that ever happened to me, a sweet, smart, kind little girl -
I tell her constantly - I love you.
She turns 8 tomorrow and I can't believe it, how the time just ticks on by, but also that life ever existed without or before her.
Feels like she has always been with me.
That is why it feels so nuts when she looks at me and I see myself - it's the her that was always in me waiting to be born.
She's awesome.
Happy Birthday my Mimzy, so glad you're here.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Great - Full
Good Morning -
This is going to have to be a short one.
I woke up this morning feeling stiff through all body parts - my mind raced
"Oh my God am I really this old that literally hurt all over?"
I remembered, thankfully, that last night I circuit trained - the soreness is not age, it's just muscle groups put to the test.
Thank God - I was a little freaked out until I connected the dots.
Today is 11-11-11 - a once in a lifetime date - kinda cool don't you think?
I do - cool that we are all here to acknowledge our once in life time date together.
And, let's not forget that it is Veterans Day - a day to honor our military vets.
Thanks Vets for my freedom and I am sorry if you suffer.
Based on the homeless men I know in Charlottesville - Some of them Vietnam Vets who have suffered ever since their deployment - I thank you and acknowledge my gratefulness will never be enough.
My Papa was a Navy Pilot - he was always so very proud on this day - I miss him a lot.
Like a whole lot - like very aware of the empty space in my life he once filled so fully.
I love you Papa - and Thanks for all you did.
It is without a doubt a beautiful Fall day outside - I just let Willa out and was blown away by the beauty that awaited me beyond my back door.
The colors are blazing and the air smacks of change.
I love that - love Fall.
I hate Winter so I am hoping that Autumn holds on a little bit longer.
Don't even get me started on the subject of snow and cold, grrrrr - not my favorite Season to say the least.
But you blog readers know this and I need not harp - although trust me I could.
This morning my free moments are limited - I have to work soon, but then good news - this evening I am getting together with the girls from work - YAY!
I am getting some "me" time later tonight.
It should be loads of fun.
I will watch the clock anxiously until then.
God my muscles are screaming in pain - I guess my aspirations of wearing heels to work today are a no-go, I can barely stand up-right forget about up-right and on stilts.
well, I feel pretty good despite the muscle aches and pains - still fairly high off my decision to attend Mary Baldwin, still pretty stoked that in three years I will be done with my masters and hopefully will be given the opportunity to guide teenage kids through the most difficult years of youth and inspire them to love English as much as I do and embrace education.
I am super duper stoked - can you tell?
My BFF Mary helped me (as always) to figure out what it is that I should be doing with my remaining time here on Earth.
I hope the forces that be will grant me a long life to put my goods to use now that I have finally honed in on them.
I want to help people so badly - it's all I have ever really wanted to do.
And like Mary says "education is the great equalizer" - and It has been for me - so what better place to help than in the education system....
I am super excited and feel re-invigorated about the upcoming challenges, it was really something to have an entrance counselor at MB rave about my transcript and tell me, transcripts like mine are a rarity.
It made me feel like every moment I have spent wanting to rip the hair clean out of my head in frustration over being torn in a thousand different directions - the freshman fifteen pounds I gained and have not lost, the Wiley Coyote eyes that stare back at me every day from the mirror, telling my kids "not now I have homework" - has all been worth it.
Every second I have spent fighting to get through college as a mother to four, to balance work, home, kids and school has paid off.
My transcript is a beautiful thing - proof that when a person wants to achieve, has a drive to succeed - they can - the sky is the limit.
Can you tell I am proud?
I deserve to be - my battles have been many, my accomplishments on the way to many more.
I would like to end this ramble, by thanking those of you who have helped me along the way.
Many of you have been my voices of reason when I couldn't find any reasons to go on, on my own.
Thank you to everyone who has believed in me and encouraged me.
I would have quit without your support - trust me.
Of course my BFF deserves 99.9% credit for everything I do - the work is relatively easy for me, it's the confidence to do it that she painstakingly pulls out.
I love you Mary with all my heart and I will CONTINUE to make you PROUD.
My first lady Martha, even though distance is gaping between us - you were my glowing light at the end of a dark tunnel - Thanks.
My Sisters who always say - "you're a rock star" and mean it.
My co - workers who put up with my shit, cover my ass all the time and make the long days seem short :) Thanks girls, my other family...
Naturally my kiddos, who are neglected and somehow still admire me and tell me I am the best Mom ever xxoo
All my girlfriends and you know who you are - you are life lines....
And, finally to all my facebook peeps and blog readers who comment enthusiastically
even though we rarely see each other - your chimes are music to my soul - Thanks.
You would think I won the Nobel prize or something - Jesus.
Guess I am just feeling like a winner and grateful today.
Have a blessed 11/11/11 - get out and breathe some crisp Autumn air :)
Now to somehow get out of this chair - ouch.....
This is going to have to be a short one.
I woke up this morning feeling stiff through all body parts - my mind raced
"Oh my God am I really this old that literally hurt all over?"
I remembered, thankfully, that last night I circuit trained - the soreness is not age, it's just muscle groups put to the test.
Thank God - I was a little freaked out until I connected the dots.
Today is 11-11-11 - a once in a lifetime date - kinda cool don't you think?
I do - cool that we are all here to acknowledge our once in life time date together.
And, let's not forget that it is Veterans Day - a day to honor our military vets.
Thanks Vets for my freedom and I am sorry if you suffer.
Based on the homeless men I know in Charlottesville - Some of them Vietnam Vets who have suffered ever since their deployment - I thank you and acknowledge my gratefulness will never be enough.
My Papa was a Navy Pilot - he was always so very proud on this day - I miss him a lot.
Like a whole lot - like very aware of the empty space in my life he once filled so fully.
I love you Papa - and Thanks for all you did.
It is without a doubt a beautiful Fall day outside - I just let Willa out and was blown away by the beauty that awaited me beyond my back door.
The colors are blazing and the air smacks of change.
I love that - love Fall.
I hate Winter so I am hoping that Autumn holds on a little bit longer.
Don't even get me started on the subject of snow and cold, grrrrr - not my favorite Season to say the least.
But you blog readers know this and I need not harp - although trust me I could.
This morning my free moments are limited - I have to work soon, but then good news - this evening I am getting together with the girls from work - YAY!
I am getting some "me" time later tonight.
It should be loads of fun.
I will watch the clock anxiously until then.
God my muscles are screaming in pain - I guess my aspirations of wearing heels to work today are a no-go, I can barely stand up-right forget about up-right and on stilts.
well, I feel pretty good despite the muscle aches and pains - still fairly high off my decision to attend Mary Baldwin, still pretty stoked that in three years I will be done with my masters and hopefully will be given the opportunity to guide teenage kids through the most difficult years of youth and inspire them to love English as much as I do and embrace education.
I am super duper stoked - can you tell?
My BFF Mary helped me (as always) to figure out what it is that I should be doing with my remaining time here on Earth.
I hope the forces that be will grant me a long life to put my goods to use now that I have finally honed in on them.
I want to help people so badly - it's all I have ever really wanted to do.
And like Mary says "education is the great equalizer" - and It has been for me - so what better place to help than in the education system....
I am super excited and feel re-invigorated about the upcoming challenges, it was really something to have an entrance counselor at MB rave about my transcript and tell me, transcripts like mine are a rarity.
It made me feel like every moment I have spent wanting to rip the hair clean out of my head in frustration over being torn in a thousand different directions - the freshman fifteen pounds I gained and have not lost, the Wiley Coyote eyes that stare back at me every day from the mirror, telling my kids "not now I have homework" - has all been worth it.
Every second I have spent fighting to get through college as a mother to four, to balance work, home, kids and school has paid off.
My transcript is a beautiful thing - proof that when a person wants to achieve, has a drive to succeed - they can - the sky is the limit.
Can you tell I am proud?
I deserve to be - my battles have been many, my accomplishments on the way to many more.
I would like to end this ramble, by thanking those of you who have helped me along the way.
Many of you have been my voices of reason when I couldn't find any reasons to go on, on my own.
Thank you to everyone who has believed in me and encouraged me.
I would have quit without your support - trust me.
Of course my BFF deserves 99.9% credit for everything I do - the work is relatively easy for me, it's the confidence to do it that she painstakingly pulls out.
I love you Mary with all my heart and I will CONTINUE to make you PROUD.
My first lady Martha, even though distance is gaping between us - you were my glowing light at the end of a dark tunnel - Thanks.
My Sisters who always say - "you're a rock star" and mean it.
My co - workers who put up with my shit, cover my ass all the time and make the long days seem short :) Thanks girls, my other family...
Naturally my kiddos, who are neglected and somehow still admire me and tell me I am the best Mom ever xxoo
All my girlfriends and you know who you are - you are life lines....
And, finally to all my facebook peeps and blog readers who comment enthusiastically
even though we rarely see each other - your chimes are music to my soul - Thanks.
You would think I won the Nobel prize or something - Jesus.
Guess I am just feeling like a winner and grateful today.
Have a blessed 11/11/11 - get out and breathe some crisp Autumn air :)
Now to somehow get out of this chair - ouch.....
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Feeling Squirrely...
Good late afternoon,
Yet again, I should be studying and instead find myself screwing off, doing anything and everything other than hitting the books or, the keys (at least scholastically)
I am too excited for homework as my friend Loryn just pointed out on facebook - I am going to be a squirrel...
Doesn't make sense?
Well, history lesson in Deb Does life required.
Years ago - three I think - on my birthday, I was walking from the store I work in to the coffee shop. I was on a retrieval mission for my free birthday mocha.
The downtown mall was busy as hell that day and yet, I felt as though I walked along in a bubble that was all my own.
That was, until I came upon two men walking towards me casually as their wives shopped at a nearby vendor stand, the two women in a retail bubble all their own.
Suddenly (and I tell no lie) a very powerful whooosh swept by my head forcing my hair to move caught up on the breeze created by this unknown falling object.
The whoosh was followed by a very definite splat immediately to my left, right by my foot.
Stunned, I naturally froze in my tracks afraid to move a muscle - I honestly feared that a plane had lost a piece of gear and had fallen so close to my head, my escape from death nearly a no - miss.
The faces of the two men entering my bubble - told me what had fallen to it's probable death had in fact been something that seconds before had been alive.
Considering I was below no trees to speak of - my mind went horrible places imagining the possibilities.
I asked the men "what is it"
Both of them like two little boys "I'm not looking"
I pleaded in my best Marilyn Monroe voice "But it's my birthday - you have to look"
They shook their heads in unison, a very concise NO.
"Is there blood splatter on me, at least look at my dress!" I begged helplessly.
No blood Thank you God.
But there on the ground, in a twisted sad heap - a squirrel.
Completely still - looking deader than dead.
Of course,(because it makes sense) we three looked up to the sky - where the hell did it come from???
Was God trying to kill me, did he hurl a squirrel at my head straight from the heavens themselves?
And Why???
What is God trying to tell me by throwing a squirrel at me???
What message is there in this near death experience - a freaking squirrel???
Long story short, my friend Patrick suddenly entered the bubble - his past as the Squirrel whisperer coming in handy as he talked the corpse back to life which proceeded to jump up in one fluid motion, shake its tail very vigorously and then saunter off with Patrick although nothing had ever happened....
I was traumatized and Squirrels have stalked me since.
They stop dead in their tracks and stare me down with their beady little eyes - trying to tell me something that has eluded me until this very perfect day.
Today I made the decision to attend Mary Baldwin for my Masters program - I have promised the Mary Baldwin advisor (a wonderfully funny man)that not only will I do my major in English with my minor in education there at MB, but that also upon said completion, use my charms, smarts and applicable degrees to inspire the youth as a guidance counselor and English teacher.
He made me promise - told me the application is a necessary formality, but based on my transcript and my attitude, Mary Baldwin invites me in with eager and open arms.
Oh my God - did I make a decision today??? And a promise???
Did I agree to major in English and minor in education and commit to a three year masters program?
I think I did...
And then...
Loryn comments on my facebook page - "you're going to be a squirrel"
The college's mascot is a SQUIRREL.
A flippin Squirrel.
Go figure.
Destiny at work -
Now when a squirrel stops me on the street and stares my ass down - I will know it's because I am one of them :)
I am going to get my masters degree.
I am so proud of me I can hardly stand it.
I cannot wait for the opportunity to inspire some lost kid just like me :)
I AM GOING TO GET TO GIVE BACK AND I CAN THINK OF NOTHING BETTER.
Yet again, I should be studying and instead find myself screwing off, doing anything and everything other than hitting the books or, the keys (at least scholastically)
I am too excited for homework as my friend Loryn just pointed out on facebook - I am going to be a squirrel...
Doesn't make sense?
Well, history lesson in Deb Does life required.
Years ago - three I think - on my birthday, I was walking from the store I work in to the coffee shop. I was on a retrieval mission for my free birthday mocha.
The downtown mall was busy as hell that day and yet, I felt as though I walked along in a bubble that was all my own.
That was, until I came upon two men walking towards me casually as their wives shopped at a nearby vendor stand, the two women in a retail bubble all their own.
Suddenly (and I tell no lie) a very powerful whooosh swept by my head forcing my hair to move caught up on the breeze created by this unknown falling object.
The whoosh was followed by a very definite splat immediately to my left, right by my foot.
Stunned, I naturally froze in my tracks afraid to move a muscle - I honestly feared that a plane had lost a piece of gear and had fallen so close to my head, my escape from death nearly a no - miss.
The faces of the two men entering my bubble - told me what had fallen to it's probable death had in fact been something that seconds before had been alive.
Considering I was below no trees to speak of - my mind went horrible places imagining the possibilities.
I asked the men "what is it"
Both of them like two little boys "I'm not looking"
I pleaded in my best Marilyn Monroe voice "But it's my birthday - you have to look"
They shook their heads in unison, a very concise NO.
"Is there blood splatter on me, at least look at my dress!" I begged helplessly.
No blood Thank you God.
But there on the ground, in a twisted sad heap - a squirrel.
Completely still - looking deader than dead.
Of course,(because it makes sense) we three looked up to the sky - where the hell did it come from???
Was God trying to kill me, did he hurl a squirrel at my head straight from the heavens themselves?
And Why???
What is God trying to tell me by throwing a squirrel at me???
What message is there in this near death experience - a freaking squirrel???
Long story short, my friend Patrick suddenly entered the bubble - his past as the Squirrel whisperer coming in handy as he talked the corpse back to life which proceeded to jump up in one fluid motion, shake its tail very vigorously and then saunter off with Patrick although nothing had ever happened....
I was traumatized and Squirrels have stalked me since.
They stop dead in their tracks and stare me down with their beady little eyes - trying to tell me something that has eluded me until this very perfect day.
Today I made the decision to attend Mary Baldwin for my Masters program - I have promised the Mary Baldwin advisor (a wonderfully funny man)that not only will I do my major in English with my minor in education there at MB, but that also upon said completion, use my charms, smarts and applicable degrees to inspire the youth as a guidance counselor and English teacher.
He made me promise - told me the application is a necessary formality, but based on my transcript and my attitude, Mary Baldwin invites me in with eager and open arms.
Oh my God - did I make a decision today??? And a promise???
Did I agree to major in English and minor in education and commit to a three year masters program?
I think I did...
And then...
Loryn comments on my facebook page - "you're going to be a squirrel"
The college's mascot is a SQUIRREL.
A flippin Squirrel.
Go figure.
Destiny at work -
Now when a squirrel stops me on the street and stares my ass down - I will know it's because I am one of them :)
I am going to get my masters degree.
I am so proud of me I can hardly stand it.
I cannot wait for the opportunity to inspire some lost kid just like me :)
I AM GOING TO GET TO GIVE BACK AND I CAN THINK OF NOTHING BETTER.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
EAU DE CLOROX
Good Morning blog readers,
My, yet again, it's been a while.
If my daughter were not home sick as hell, I dare say it would have been longer before I logged in to ramble on.
I am home, yet again - sick kid = no school, no work and feeling a lot like a complete failure.
Not because she's sick, mind you - but because I am in a constant state of not being able to keep up with commitments, responsibilities and demands.
I feel like there needs to be at least five of me to get done all that I need to do.
It is frustrating at best.
This morning after I drank too much coffee and had a long talk with the bff and then compulsively moved furniture,
I sat down and pondered -
When, if ever, will I catch a break?
When, if ever will things get easier?
I looked about my house that I cleaned the hell out of just yesterday and saw new messes.
The kitchen floor could use sweeping again...
There are multiple loads of laundry if differing cycles of spin, dry or needs folding.
The dog hair is visible on the carpet I just friggen vacuumed.
I have piles of homework to attempt,
and a sick baby girl with a persistent fever and hives...
When will the work slow down?
My answer, with a heavy heave of a sigh - when I am dead.
Death is no great alternative to my full life so I may as well get used to it and stop cursing the heavens, hands fisted to the sky in a plea - "why"?????
My life is crazy - I do too much - I am spread way too thin.
For the time being, that is just the way it is - no change in sight.
I have a lot of kids and a lot of dreams.
Some days, like yesterday, I think - 'what the hell am I doing in college?'
Why am I pushing myself to the limit?
Life would be easier if I quit school - gave up the fight and said screw this I am just too tired.
But, I would be hopelessly miserable if I did that - more miserable than I am on days when I have to send my boss or professors the email saying "Emma is sick again"....
I feel guilty and somewhat worthless for not being able to just effortlessly glide through my life - but life isn't really about gliding is it?
It's about climbing, a constant climb to get up and over obstacles.
And like that Miley Cyrus song that always makes me cry when Emma forces me to listen to it on the car radio - 'there's always gonna be another mountain, I'm always gonna wanna make it move'
I weep, every time, bawl... - go figure Hannah Montana and I are kindred.
I have to keep going and just do the best I can.
Like last semester with my first college B - I hated that I had to make the choice between studying and my kids - felt like I should be able to earn the A regardless of anything because I am capable of nothing less than a 4.0 - but....Kids need their Momma's more than I need to always do what I am capable of.
Sometimes you gotta half ass things and accept that half ass is better than no ass and that is enough.
It's hard for me.
I set the bar super high.
I have stomach flab I want gone.
I have homework piled hip high.
I have books to write.
Publishers to hound.
I have kids who need help with their algebra homework(Jesus Help us)
A whole world to charm.
I cannot do it all.
And that, is painfully hard for me.
Something has to give on a daily basis and it is a process of necessary selection, which hurdles are the must jump today, which do I simply go around?
One day I am sure that things will be less chaotic, less demanding -
A lot of people that know me well say I will be bored silly, if and when that ever happens.
I think they are right - if the world isn't squeezing me, I squeeze the world.
I can't sit still - it's why I don't watch TV - who the hell can sit still long enough to get mind numbed???
Not me.
The only time I sit is to write and even then, I have impossibly itchy britches - I usually chair dance to music on my ipod to get through.
I only wish that I didn't feel like such a loser when I call in sick and make my excuses to professors - I feel like people automatically assume that I am sitting on my fat ass eating bob bons in front of the tv, rather than bleaching door handles when my kid is home sick.
I smell like clorox today, trust me, I have been cleaning non-stop since seven thirty - attempting to rid the house of Emma's viral germiness.
See, there I go, justifying myself and feeling like a failure.
UGH - the plight of Motherhood - guilt...
I gotta work on the guilt - I will add that to my TO-DO list right under,#67 do your nails.
sigh - the complaints of a full life....
Seems contradictory doesn't it?
I have missed running my mouth - I hope you have missed me too.
Have a great day - off to my list and the bleach :)
My, yet again, it's been a while.
If my daughter were not home sick as hell, I dare say it would have been longer before I logged in to ramble on.
I am home, yet again - sick kid = no school, no work and feeling a lot like a complete failure.
Not because she's sick, mind you - but because I am in a constant state of not being able to keep up with commitments, responsibilities and demands.
I feel like there needs to be at least five of me to get done all that I need to do.
It is frustrating at best.
This morning after I drank too much coffee and had a long talk with the bff and then compulsively moved furniture,
I sat down and pondered -
When, if ever, will I catch a break?
When, if ever will things get easier?
I looked about my house that I cleaned the hell out of just yesterday and saw new messes.
The kitchen floor could use sweeping again...
There are multiple loads of laundry if differing cycles of spin, dry or needs folding.
The dog hair is visible on the carpet I just friggen vacuumed.
I have piles of homework to attempt,
and a sick baby girl with a persistent fever and hives...
When will the work slow down?
My answer, with a heavy heave of a sigh - when I am dead.
Death is no great alternative to my full life so I may as well get used to it and stop cursing the heavens, hands fisted to the sky in a plea - "why"?????
My life is crazy - I do too much - I am spread way too thin.
For the time being, that is just the way it is - no change in sight.
I have a lot of kids and a lot of dreams.
Some days, like yesterday, I think - 'what the hell am I doing in college?'
Why am I pushing myself to the limit?
Life would be easier if I quit school - gave up the fight and said screw this I am just too tired.
But, I would be hopelessly miserable if I did that - more miserable than I am on days when I have to send my boss or professors the email saying "Emma is sick again"....
I feel guilty and somewhat worthless for not being able to just effortlessly glide through my life - but life isn't really about gliding is it?
It's about climbing, a constant climb to get up and over obstacles.
And like that Miley Cyrus song that always makes me cry when Emma forces me to listen to it on the car radio - 'there's always gonna be another mountain, I'm always gonna wanna make it move'
I weep, every time, bawl... - go figure Hannah Montana and I are kindred.
I have to keep going and just do the best I can.
Like last semester with my first college B - I hated that I had to make the choice between studying and my kids - felt like I should be able to earn the A regardless of anything because I am capable of nothing less than a 4.0 - but....Kids need their Momma's more than I need to always do what I am capable of.
Sometimes you gotta half ass things and accept that half ass is better than no ass and that is enough.
It's hard for me.
I set the bar super high.
I have stomach flab I want gone.
I have homework piled hip high.
I have books to write.
Publishers to hound.
I have kids who need help with their algebra homework(Jesus Help us)
A whole world to charm.
I cannot do it all.
And that, is painfully hard for me.
Something has to give on a daily basis and it is a process of necessary selection, which hurdles are the must jump today, which do I simply go around?
One day I am sure that things will be less chaotic, less demanding -
A lot of people that know me well say I will be bored silly, if and when that ever happens.
I think they are right - if the world isn't squeezing me, I squeeze the world.
I can't sit still - it's why I don't watch TV - who the hell can sit still long enough to get mind numbed???
Not me.
The only time I sit is to write and even then, I have impossibly itchy britches - I usually chair dance to music on my ipod to get through.
I only wish that I didn't feel like such a loser when I call in sick and make my excuses to professors - I feel like people automatically assume that I am sitting on my fat ass eating bob bons in front of the tv, rather than bleaching door handles when my kid is home sick.
I smell like clorox today, trust me, I have been cleaning non-stop since seven thirty - attempting to rid the house of Emma's viral germiness.
See, there I go, justifying myself and feeling like a failure.
UGH - the plight of Motherhood - guilt...
I gotta work on the guilt - I will add that to my TO-DO list right under,#67 do your nails.
sigh - the complaints of a full life....
Seems contradictory doesn't it?
I have missed running my mouth - I hope you have missed me too.
Have a great day - off to my list and the bleach :)
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
submit and fail?
Well hello there blog partakers,
I begin today's blog by putting a question out there?
Is it wrong to drink the crumbs from the bottom of my cheez it bag right here in the library in front of all these people?
I keep reaching in like the claw from Toy Story ("the claw, the claw") but all I succeed in doing making a damn mess of myself.
And this mess is bad enough as it is - trust me, my ripped sweatshirt with the mayo stain on the front is about as wrecked as I can get - I am gross with a lap full of orange tidbits of cheez its. I have gone all to hell.
No really, I have.
Fuck it, I want the crumbs and salt, I 'm doing it....
Well, I guess the most important thing I can discuss today is the stupid essay contest that is looming over my procrastinating head...
Last year I won.
Set out to win, wrote to win, wanted to win more than anything.
This year - I have written five damn essays and can't pick one, haven't proofed or edited any of them - I have five essays NOT ready for submission with the deadline in three days and can't decide if any of them are "the one."
I crack myself up - my writing has improved so much over the last year that I feel like the 750 word limit of the essay is far too few and maybe I just won't bother - I don't want anyone to put parameters around my creativity.
And yet....the freak show competitor would really like another award for her collection - would really like to be the first consecutive winner - something about "two timer" that appeals to me.
I'm in the sophomore slump - this is what kills so many recording artists.
So what to do, what to do?
Maybe I will just submit minus expectation - like just randomly pick one from the stack, edit it and just let go - let go of perfectionism, let go of the past, let go of riding myself too hard and just hit send....
I think that may be my answer.
I like all five of my essays - really I do - I am impressed with the depth of each, the visual quality is off the hook if I do say so myself - I just feel like my wing span was prohibited, just as I got warmed up my word limit maxed.
Anyone who reads my legit work, or even my blogs knows that for me 750 words equals a scene setting at best.
To get to the heart of a matter I need about 8,000.
The second question I ask, can I handle it emotionally if I submit and lose?
What if it was an epic loss - like didn't place at all?
I am not sure I can lose. I can only lose gracefully at some things - my writing may not be one of them - so far the responses to my efforts have been super encouraging.
To lose a contest I formerly won may not go well - Chubby Debbie and her Mother may rear their ugly heads - I fear those two assholes are still around lingering right below the surface.
Success keeps those two at bay. But.... I won't always win - ask Martha she'll tell you.
I must learn to fail without it gutting me and giving the toxic bitches full reign.
Okay decision made - randomly picking my essay, editing and submitting and if I lose - I lose.
Losing does not mean I am a loser - just means, A LOSS. One Loss - One loss is one loss, one loss is not defining in any way shape or form -
UNLESS of course it teaches me to lose without freaking the fuck out.
Okay well, there is my blog - basically a conversation with myself that once again exposes the fragility of my once broken, healing slowly heart.
I begin today's blog by putting a question out there?
Is it wrong to drink the crumbs from the bottom of my cheez it bag right here in the library in front of all these people?
I keep reaching in like the claw from Toy Story ("the claw, the claw") but all I succeed in doing making a damn mess of myself.
And this mess is bad enough as it is - trust me, my ripped sweatshirt with the mayo stain on the front is about as wrecked as I can get - I am gross with a lap full of orange tidbits of cheez its. I have gone all to hell.
No really, I have.
Fuck it, I want the crumbs and salt, I 'm doing it....
Well, I guess the most important thing I can discuss today is the stupid essay contest that is looming over my procrastinating head...
Last year I won.
Set out to win, wrote to win, wanted to win more than anything.
This year - I have written five damn essays and can't pick one, haven't proofed or edited any of them - I have five essays NOT ready for submission with the deadline in three days and can't decide if any of them are "the one."
I crack myself up - my writing has improved so much over the last year that I feel like the 750 word limit of the essay is far too few and maybe I just won't bother - I don't want anyone to put parameters around my creativity.
And yet....the freak show competitor would really like another award for her collection - would really like to be the first consecutive winner - something about "two timer" that appeals to me.
I'm in the sophomore slump - this is what kills so many recording artists.
So what to do, what to do?
Maybe I will just submit minus expectation - like just randomly pick one from the stack, edit it and just let go - let go of perfectionism, let go of the past, let go of riding myself too hard and just hit send....
I think that may be my answer.
I like all five of my essays - really I do - I am impressed with the depth of each, the visual quality is off the hook if I do say so myself - I just feel like my wing span was prohibited, just as I got warmed up my word limit maxed.
Anyone who reads my legit work, or even my blogs knows that for me 750 words equals a scene setting at best.
To get to the heart of a matter I need about 8,000.
The second question I ask, can I handle it emotionally if I submit and lose?
What if it was an epic loss - like didn't place at all?
I am not sure I can lose. I can only lose gracefully at some things - my writing may not be one of them - so far the responses to my efforts have been super encouraging.
To lose a contest I formerly won may not go well - Chubby Debbie and her Mother may rear their ugly heads - I fear those two assholes are still around lingering right below the surface.
Success keeps those two at bay. But.... I won't always win - ask Martha she'll tell you.
I must learn to fail without it gutting me and giving the toxic bitches full reign.
Okay decision made - randomly picking my essay, editing and submitting and if I lose - I lose.
Losing does not mean I am a loser - just means, A LOSS. One Loss - One loss is one loss, one loss is not defining in any way shape or form -
UNLESS of course it teaches me to lose without freaking the fuck out.
Okay well, there is my blog - basically a conversation with myself that once again exposes the fragility of my once broken, healing slowly heart.
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