Giving myself hope

My mind jumps, leaps, falls and goes down hills into semi filled ditches and I lay there in the water and wonder if this it and then I am off again. Its a ragged rugged mental race. My brain my mind, the only thing that matters - to my own self.

Everyone matters. However to myself, me as Rose, my brain matters. My body has failed me countless times and I am covered with scars and diving back into a big operation sometime in Jan but thats old news.

I am working on a will and I don't know what to leave and to who and why. Can't I just say, whatever money I have, put it in savings for those rainy days (that I love, rain that is) if someone wants to edit my writing and publish it, that would be a good legacy. Its not pretty though, alot of the writing is gritty and ugly. So much of my life has been spent as an observer of the ugliness of humanity.

Though I look for the best, my brain, my mind.

I dreamt that a dream came true. I was putting peanut butter on peanut butter cookies while sitting in a meadow, I looked over and there was the fellow for me. He had two girls. His name I think was Trissa. Ofcourse there was some magical thing involving mythological happenings. He was not much taller then me. He fit. He was by a tree.

I was shocked that something so good and fine had happened. I was minding my own business and there he was.

Thanksgiving is alot of stress, getting a huge meal prepared for a bunch of vegetarians. I had my roast turkey breast, a bit dry but still, TURKEY. I love turkey. It was humanely raised, slaughtered and fed gold or whatever it is they feed fancy well cared for pricey turkeys these days.

My Lu and I colored some Thanksgiving themed printouts and decorated the wall above the table. She set the table. She peeled potatoes, slowly but she did it. We ate and ate after listening to Alice's Restaurant and then saying what we were thankful for. Miles said he was thankful for women.

I forgot to take my b.c. pills for a week so I am pmsing, I recognize this, I don't know how I blew it this time around but its okay.

We need to think good things about ourselves, no slagging, we need to think good things about others. Which is hard because I find myself ridiculous and when I see other people treat each other without kindness, it makes me ridicule them. I am sarcastic without thinking about it. Thats my main language with Brian.

Grateful:

1) My bed is waiting, with a good book to be read
2) Tomorrow my girl goes to spend the night at her grandmas leaving me to feel unhinged in peace.
3) I see my therapist who has been fighting cancer for 2 almost 3 months now, first time I've seen her since she was diagnosed. And she says she misses ME. I miss her. She is one of the best people I know and not just because she knows all my secrets and still thinks I am a wonderful person. She once wrote to me that I am a mystic.
4) I get to sleep soon and the dreams will show me what I need to do or atleast be entertaining or horrifying.
5) I will wake up in the morning.
6) I can almost turn my head without squeaking in pain.
7) My best friend sent me an email about what we will get up to when we are old.
8) I got to talk to my Mom today. She told me she loved me. Till I was about 30, I had only heard her tell me she loved me maybe 3 times.
9) I am going to scrub my bathroom tomorrow and feel good when its clean!
10) Lush.com products will be arriving any day, so taking a bath will involve the most amazing smells and glitter.
11) I am constantly being showered with good things, the Universe blesses me. Love walks near.
12) I have a purpose, I have many purposes, they show themselves from time to time.
13) My right leg, right arm, face, left foot, both butt cheeks are healthy!

Rock on. Rose

Paid to write, never paid to love, unless the money is good!

Great how to site from a real life freelance writer with 8 hour days:

http://www.thursdaybram.com/

And her name is Thursday! What a cool name! Sure Rose is a cool name but to be named after a day of the week? Is she Wednesday Addamsesque?

Thats my goal. Paid to write. I am graduated, I have always been a writer. Asking the U to throw some opportunities this way. Since I kept my first online journal almost 10 years ago, I think I have experience. I can also make uninteresting things downright amusing. Thats what keeps me ticking.

Several freelance gigs to keep me active, dollars in the bank and moving forward. People want to hire me, I have that thing they are looking for, passion, loyalty and I am great with deadlines. Infact, I like to rub up against deadlines. Gets the ole adrenaline going.

Sure there are alot of people out there clamoring for writing gigs. I wont clamor. I will merely just be me, no need to plump my skills or be anyone else.

The Rose Zen of getting writing jobs.

Write books, help people write their stories, freelance non fiction writing, research articles, travel writing.

Love what you do. For reals. I love helping Moms have their babies, I love having babies, I love writing, I love people and their stories. I love warriors, troops and their hardness that covers where its soft, I love helping people, I love laughing at nothing and everything. I love and thats what matters. Full on love.

Im glad you are so positive about the future

Dear child, girl of mine. Whose cold body has pressed against mine so many mornings and nights and otherwise cold times I have forgotten.

I love it when you make plans, Friday glitter polish on the nails, Saturday we play a game on the computer. Sunday, we go to mini Thanksgiving.

And I, and I, can't see past this next silent scream. I hide it in sleeping, I hide it in hiding in my bedroom.

Last night though, I drug the quilt the one that my Mom made me the one that in some way proves without a doubt that my Mom loves, loved me at some point. That quilt, to the livingroom and we watched a movie while your Dad was away. Your body is longer and leaner and I get to see you grow.

Your skin is already alligatory, there is a technical term for it. We spend all dry months fighting this. I have to stay on top of it and cover you head to toe in Dream Cream or Olive Oil. Your Dad doesn't understand what its like when the bodies biggest organ hurts.

So chapped, when its at its worse I dab the oil on, like painting eggs, it hurts you so much, it hurts me.

I love how positive you are, that you know without a doubt that there will be a tomorrow, 3 hours from now. That your Mom will make it through another winter when the days and nights are so dark..

Thank you my girl child, my curly haired wild thing. Thank You.

Odyssey

Ahoy fellow travelers. I am listening to my child read Junie B. and suffering. The suffering isn't from the book reading, mind you. I think I am having a cortisone flair in one foot, because the pain is somehow worse then before the injections.

Thursday all will be well. I will be dancing about my house and words will flow and hell I wont get to 50k unless I take up meth but I will get to 20k and thats a damn good start on a book.

Besides my own first world problems. I dreamt that Leonard Cohen died and I was in such pain. I don't know him, through his songs. Anyways in this dream, someone gave me his left over lip stuff. It was very sentimental.

Sometimes and only sometimes its good to wake up.

Rifling

Today while playing Scrabble I got a Bingo on the first round of play. It came to me immediately, Finagle.

Brian was gone to Chicago as he is bi weekly, which left me to care for the children solo. I picked up Lydia early from school and we went to the movies. Bad choice. Dickens, even Disneyfied is no go for little ones.

I remember when I would ask the kids, when they came home from school if they wanted to go back. Ever. School is it for learning or is it for social experience. To know you are different and lookee different is weird. I was the girl eating dandelions. Now I prefer pomegrantes.

There was a Curious George book where he flooded the entire house, it involved soap. When I was little I thought that was the coolest thing in the world. Now, when I think about giving up and walking into the water to sleep, I wonder if Curious George had anything to do with it.

Tonight when I was looking through photos people had uploaded (a application grabs all the uploaded photos and displays them, you scroll down to look, inspire, horrify, ponder and then hit reload - its called skimming) I found a beautiful beautiful image.

A day of leaves and rememberance

I was watching a video of a young man, brought home. 24 years old and thats his life. Below is the video, I took my bat outside and bashed some pumpkins, for the squirrels and birds and also to get some of the unfocused anger at the god damn war and the children that fight it. I know they signed up, I know thats their job, I am proud of my military brothers and sisters, no doubt. I simply want them all to live a long full life.

Sitting outside, in the mid 50's. The dogs went inside to sleep or wreak havoc or whatever it is they do when they are not underneath. A bee wanted a piece of me. I am not sweet bee!

The trampoline needs a good sweep.

Going to workout, sand down a bookcase and walk through the park I am a caretaker for. Bring garbage bag and gloves. Enjoy the strip of almost silence in the middle of the city.

I dreamt that I was in my birth city and looking for a place to stay. Brian was running alongside the train getting donations for some girls dream. I didn't want to stay with any relatives. Before that I was at Eminems birhday party. He took over a bar/restaurant and so I can safely say that I did not on purpose attend his birthday party. I remember reminding him of the talented Michiganders. Like Aretha Franklin and Iggy Pop.

Itunes on shuffle. Air Supply and then Everclear - Santa Monica.

Plantar fascitis means no more barefooting for me. I am rarely in shoes. Mid winter you might find me standing in the snow. I gotta get as close to the earth as possible. I am not Persephone.