Charles Bukowski
if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.
don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Autographed copy
he books I buy often are autographed copies, not on purpose do I choose these, I am mainly looking for titles. With that said, writers tend to get autographed copies, it is like the super book gift. The author with a stack of a hundred or more sat there and signed his or her name over and over.
Somehow having someones name on their own book is better. I don't believe that. How well read the words are, how they pounce on you, stay with you, when you recommend the book to someone else, that is better then a autograph.
I have one autographed book I took with me while my house burned. Once my kids and animals were out, the book I got smoke in my lungs for is a Kurt Vonnegut book. "Cats Cradle" - I trace the letters of his name, hastily scrawled. Perhaps thinking along the same lines 'Why do they want my name? Read the book that is the treat!'
In my day which is now, 2010, I am more then halfway done with a book of stories. Maybe once you have one done then the rest follow in quicker sequence. Birth isn't like that. Love isn't like that.
Books are somewhere else. Their own galaxy. This writing.com site tells me I haven't logged in, in 8 months. I always subscribed that writing was a solitary pursuit. That self aggrandizing and editing others works were somehow a selfish endeavor. It keeps the writer from the primary excuse for living, which is to experience and to write.
Somehow having someones name on their own book is better. I don't believe that. How well read the words are, how they pounce on you, stay with you, when you recommend the book to someone else, that is better then a autograph.
I have one autographed book I took with me while my house burned. Once my kids and animals were out, the book I got smoke in my lungs for is a Kurt Vonnegut book. "Cats Cradle" - I trace the letters of his name, hastily scrawled. Perhaps thinking along the same lines 'Why do they want my name? Read the book that is the treat!'
In my day which is now, 2010, I am more then halfway done with a book of stories. Maybe once you have one done then the rest follow in quicker sequence. Birth isn't like that. Love isn't like that.
Books are somewhere else. Their own galaxy. This writing.com site tells me I haven't logged in, in 8 months. I always subscribed that writing was a solitary pursuit. That self aggrandizing and editing others works were somehow a selfish endeavor. It keeps the writer from the primary excuse for living, which is to experience and to write.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Worse
Monday, I'll know Monday what the story is medical wise. I know that I have lost alot of muscle since the big bad surgery in March, which supports the joints. I know but I hope. I want my uptight funny surgeon to tell me it is nothing. To march out of there with just a brace and no plans for PHYSICAL THERAPY. PT is a sentence, it is a sentence of daily pain and it is mental as well as physical. Physical therapists are chirpy creatures, their job is to cause you pain, be your Nirvanaesque cheerleader. You will make everyone else feel as ease, crack jokes. Smirk through the pain. You will go sit in your car afterwards and look at yourself in the rearview 'I am Rose Hill I am Rose Hill' - it means nothing ancestorially but I have always pretended I descended from good brave people with some kind of magic about them.
One thing or the other.
Sometimes it squeezes me that at 38 there isn't alot of time left. I look like a youngster but my insides age, right?
I love life to intently that I know something will come up for the winter, right? Where I can be gone after Christmas through Jan someplace with sun so the darkness doesn't return.
I need a webpage. Which, if you know me, I was a web designer from the ground up for 9 years, and to not have a website is sacrilege! Actually it is freeing. But I need to have a solid space on the web where I put solid pieces so people can see my work and get to know me.
All the stuff I write is personal, I don't know how to get that distance.
All this will come, I pray, I pray.
One thing or the other.
Sometimes it squeezes me that at 38 there isn't alot of time left. I look like a youngster but my insides age, right?
I love life to intently that I know something will come up for the winter, right? Where I can be gone after Christmas through Jan someplace with sun so the darkness doesn't return.
I need a webpage. Which, if you know me, I was a web designer from the ground up for 9 years, and to not have a website is sacrilege! Actually it is freeing. But I need to have a solid space on the web where I put solid pieces so people can see my work and get to know me.
All the stuff I write is personal, I don't know how to get that distance.
All this will come, I pray, I pray.
Better
Erase the aches gurl
We all wanna see you soar
To have to put on sunglasses
You shine so bright
Especially at night
Our own lightning bug
We all wanna see you soar
To have to put on sunglasses
You shine so bright
Especially at night
Our own lightning bug
Suck it Jon Bon Jovi and the cyclops japanese woman
Jon Bon Jovi thought he was not going to be recognized at some odd mall and started going on about how Alice Cooper is not a innovator, I had enough of his fluff rock bullshit and thus began the mockey and musical education of Jon Bon Jovi and his hair.
Prior to that I was sitting with a very tall friend at a restaurant and this little ill behaved beast of a child cracked me in the head, purposely. I looked around and found the mother to be a cyclops. I didn't want her to think she was going to get a parenting pass just because she had one eye in the middle of her head. She didn't seem to keen on schooling her beast but they did help me find my other shoe.
All the while, I kept thinking 'why aren't I wearing a bra?'
Dreams people. You get to wake up.
My little dog pigged the electric blanket last night and I in my sleeping state kept moving as she kept getting closer as I do when my child is in bed, to give them more room. Woke up cold, aching.
I think only one knee can hurt at a time its a universal rule like a before e except after c.
Prior to that I was sitting with a very tall friend at a restaurant and this little ill behaved beast of a child cracked me in the head, purposely. I looked around and found the mother to be a cyclops. I didn't want her to think she was going to get a parenting pass just because she had one eye in the middle of her head. She didn't seem to keen on schooling her beast but they did help me find my other shoe.
All the while, I kept thinking 'why aren't I wearing a bra?'
Dreams people. You get to wake up.
My little dog pigged the electric blanket last night and I in my sleeping state kept moving as she kept getting closer as I do when my child is in bed, to give them more room. Woke up cold, aching.
I think only one knee can hurt at a time its a universal rule like a before e except after c.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Humility
Sunday paper will become my nemesis littering my bedroom in no time. I see it peeking out the bottom of a box of wet wipes (used for cleaning my cpap mask nightly) and everything else. Wet wipes are wonderful.
I made 3 phone calls today, which is rare, for someone who doesn't even answer the phone and usually doesn't know where her cellphone is. I like emails and text.
My brother delivered an invitation to his fiancees bridal shower. I think she has a few more scheduled for the love of God. I hate small talk with white trash strangers who smoke while holding their babies and chow down on shit food. I smile and nod and tell the babies that one day they will grow up and have the chance to escape.
I did. I escaped. Mostly.
I have never smoked, I can eat less and less. I am down to eggs, popcorn and liquid protein. I get an MRI on my knee in the afternoon. I called my GP and spoke to 3 people about a pelvic exam. My library fines were overdue and I paid them, finally. When I went to reserve books tonight I found that I couldn't. So I will need to go into the library and plead my case I guess. Some hold on my library card.
I am going to California and I have a few people to see, mostly though I will be on my own. Not sure how long I will last unless I find a place I really like to explore. Not hard to do. I'm alone all the time really. The only adult I talk to is the kids Father. Who isn't a conversationalist, is somewhere on the autism/aspergers spectrum.
My daughter smashed me in the face with my camera today. It hits me hard when she is so full of rage (this time because her Father told her that he would take her to the carnival, found out that it was closed and then thought it was open and then found out it was closed and told her all this throughout the day).
He will be leaving for 4 days next week after being gone on Friday. Work is always busy and his consulting business is always busy. Lydia spends most of her time with me anyway, its okay, because I am her go to parent, her primary caregiver, its just so hard some days. He wont even take his laptop to watch some Scooby Doo with her unless I say something. He thinks he is doing the noble thing by bringing in money and I think there is more to life then money, there are these days we never get back.
My mood is dipping its the pain medication, I take as little as possible but it just kicks me down. The Father of my kids wont understand that I have another torn meniscus and some kind of arthritis till he sees it in paper form. He is like that with everyone my son says. If he had come to the doctors appointment he would know. There are torn meniscus tests that can be performed in office, they are like being made a human pretzel and the sounds that come from my knee are serious and bleak.
So, knee is back to fuckled like last year. Need another esophagus opening as I am unable to eat just about everything and I have no one to help me out.
Sounds about right. My best friend is in Texas. I need solid help but it wont come. I will overtax my son but it will help him grow. I will walk on this gimp leg till it gives out and carry on. Hopefully sometime in there I will dream of good times and love and picking cherries at my Aunts house. Beating the birds to their sweetness.
I will complete the MT training and get a cert and a decent job. I will keep working on my book and will get some writing gigs. The Universe will shower me with blessings, I will pray nightly and Thank God for my life and my childrens lives.
And thats about all. Pain, lone ranger with glasses, dreaming, dreams and family bullshit.
I made 3 phone calls today, which is rare, for someone who doesn't even answer the phone and usually doesn't know where her cellphone is. I like emails and text.
My brother delivered an invitation to his fiancees bridal shower. I think she has a few more scheduled for the love of God. I hate small talk with white trash strangers who smoke while holding their babies and chow down on shit food. I smile and nod and tell the babies that one day they will grow up and have the chance to escape.
I did. I escaped. Mostly.
I have never smoked, I can eat less and less. I am down to eggs, popcorn and liquid protein. I get an MRI on my knee in the afternoon. I called my GP and spoke to 3 people about a pelvic exam. My library fines were overdue and I paid them, finally. When I went to reserve books tonight I found that I couldn't. So I will need to go into the library and plead my case I guess. Some hold on my library card.
I am going to California and I have a few people to see, mostly though I will be on my own. Not sure how long I will last unless I find a place I really like to explore. Not hard to do. I'm alone all the time really. The only adult I talk to is the kids Father. Who isn't a conversationalist, is somewhere on the autism/aspergers spectrum.
My daughter smashed me in the face with my camera today. It hits me hard when she is so full of rage (this time because her Father told her that he would take her to the carnival, found out that it was closed and then thought it was open and then found out it was closed and told her all this throughout the day).
He will be leaving for 4 days next week after being gone on Friday. Work is always busy and his consulting business is always busy. Lydia spends most of her time with me anyway, its okay, because I am her go to parent, her primary caregiver, its just so hard some days. He wont even take his laptop to watch some Scooby Doo with her unless I say something. He thinks he is doing the noble thing by bringing in money and I think there is more to life then money, there are these days we never get back.
My mood is dipping its the pain medication, I take as little as possible but it just kicks me down. The Father of my kids wont understand that I have another torn meniscus and some kind of arthritis till he sees it in paper form. He is like that with everyone my son says. If he had come to the doctors appointment he would know. There are torn meniscus tests that can be performed in office, they are like being made a human pretzel and the sounds that come from my knee are serious and bleak.
So, knee is back to fuckled like last year. Need another esophagus opening as I am unable to eat just about everything and I have no one to help me out.
Sounds about right. My best friend is in Texas. I need solid help but it wont come. I will overtax my son but it will help him grow. I will walk on this gimp leg till it gives out and carry on. Hopefully sometime in there I will dream of good times and love and picking cherries at my Aunts house. Beating the birds to their sweetness.
I will complete the MT training and get a cert and a decent job. I will keep working on my book and will get some writing gigs. The Universe will shower me with blessings, I will pray nightly and Thank God for my life and my childrens lives.
And thats about all. Pain, lone ranger with glasses, dreaming, dreams and family bullshit.
Keep this in mind, people who seek change
| | ||||
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Thursday, July 1, 2010
Go
Subversive, sweeping changes.
Camo pants old and older
Without emotional pinnings
So much without navigation
What do you do with a head full of ideas?
What do you do with feet that wanna walk?
Plan.
Camo pants old and older
Without emotional pinnings
So much without navigation
What do you do with a head full of ideas?
What do you do with feet that wanna walk?
Plan.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Cane, Torchwood, Kicking Ass.
No denying, no walking it off, rubbing dirt on it, forgetting about it. See I had this operation on my knee to repair a tear and whilst in there my doctor found something called plica which involves leftover fetal cells and made my knee bones grind on each other. He fixed what he could.
I was good once healed, so glad not to hobble, not to have to use this leopard print cane. It went into the closet by the door with the winter things and shoes galore.
May comes and I start having shooting pain. I can no longer take NSAIDS which lowers swelling due to my abdominal surgery, so I use homeopathics, ice packs, elevation, wishful thinking. By today, my knee is not holding my body up. My bed is my work Mom center. My rooms are located off the main house, it is quiet here with the hum of the a/c and fan and my cpap.
While I have been resting my knee I have been watching Torchwood. Usually when you watch a show, you get a week inbetween to process it. I have watched both seasons in 2-3 days. I am traumatized. I need to talk to the actors who were killed to make sure they are okay. Then I watched the Torchwood movie? And it was painful to watch the children being forced from their Mothers arms, as an offering to aliens. They ended up okay, all of them except one. But it brought up the nazis and when the main character Captain Jack said, 'This whole planet is a big graveyard.' I thought yes, yes it is.
We sit on strangers bones daily.
I went on a roller coaster, I rode it and laughed and laughed. It was close to joy. I thought of my friend who says that when she rides her particular ride she laughs and cries and I really got it.
Tornado warnings here tonight, in the basement with a worried but clear headed 7 year old and two teenagers. This is a new friend of my son, he looks like Flapjack from that one cartoon but he has no sweetness or charm. I am glad to have a basement. Growing up we had a ditch to lay in when the sky turned green.
Back to my knee as it makes itself known. I missed my appointment yesterday morning. I called my surgeons gatekeeper and told her, she said they had no openings for two weeks. I am going to call again tomorrow and let her know I don't have the option of swelling reducing medication. Gatekeepers aka secretaries who wield power and lord over it like some fat king on a throne need to be handled with care. Nancy and I go way back, I used the same surgeon when my shoulder stopped working, I couldn't lift my arm, my left side, my writing and punching side. So there are 2-3 years of history. I know Nancy has my doctors back. I need to see my doctor so I can get a scan of my knee and make sure all structures are in place. Cortisone shots in my knee do not work well and that is too bad, maybe he will have another kind of steroid that does not explode like so many icicles all around my knee? We will see. I WILL get in to see him before two weeks, oh yes.
I don't care much for authority, up there with celebrities, all flawed humans pretending to have some power.
Tonight I listened to my brother as he explained the huge wall cloud descending on his neighborhood, the wind changing directions, the hail, the silence. I could hear the joy and awe in his voice and I felt proud. We saw Twister together so many years ago, I think that inspired him to love the weather like I do. We are just these little thoughts with skin on the outside, the big game is always the weather. It dictates everything about our lives if you think about it.
Our bodies break down, our minds deplete, my body sheds its extra weight, skin, and my appreciation for life accelerates. I have days of depression, it comes with being creative. I wanna be Kurt Vonnegut who grappled with the horror of war and made it tolerable through humor, who loved everyone without thought of some big present from God when he died. To be a humanist, to live in spite of the horror of humanity.
Tomorrow I hobble to the lake to stand in the water and watch my feet sink in the sand, enjoy the perch, listen to the kids play, the smells of Summer, suntan oil, something meaty on the grill, lake water.
My mother sent me a card. I don't speak to her, she asked for forgiveness. Forgiveness is important in life, most things can be forgiven, some things are so awful that forgiveness is not given. It is a gift, to be forgiven.
The last conversation we had was on speaker phone, someone dear to me got to hear how my Mother speaks to me. It was a treat that ended up with my dearest getting me some ice cream.
Haha. This is par for the course with her. I no longer expect her to care about me or mine. It feels good to let go.
We are moving towards moving within two years, probably Oregon maybe California. Mountains and the ocean and a quiet place to write and sleep are my basic needs. Creative good natured folks who live without drama and with joy and gratitude. Not that fake ass shit and all the clawing and one upping and rampant consumerism.
I grew up poor and I can say that money is not my no.1 priority in life. To be a good person and help others, to be the best Mother I can be, thats up there. Money is nice and it buys LUSH and vacations and BOOKS and I am more content with some pocket money but what we really have and own is inside us, the people we are, what we have, what we give.
It is a time of people leaving my life, and I honor that. Someone I deeply love and appreciate hasn't written or called, or reached out or reached back when I reached out. It makes me sad for a bit but maybe people are put in our lives for certain periods and then they move on or you move on. There are no hard feelings, it is just life.
So keep moving, keep loving, love more, grow, love God, love yourself, break free from what hinders you, swim don't sink. Hobble if you need to but keep walking.
I was good once healed, so glad not to hobble, not to have to use this leopard print cane. It went into the closet by the door with the winter things and shoes galore.
May comes and I start having shooting pain. I can no longer take NSAIDS which lowers swelling due to my abdominal surgery, so I use homeopathics, ice packs, elevation, wishful thinking. By today, my knee is not holding my body up. My bed is my work Mom center. My rooms are located off the main house, it is quiet here with the hum of the a/c and fan and my cpap.
While I have been resting my knee I have been watching Torchwood. Usually when you watch a show, you get a week inbetween to process it. I have watched both seasons in 2-3 days. I am traumatized. I need to talk to the actors who were killed to make sure they are okay. Then I watched the Torchwood movie? And it was painful to watch the children being forced from their Mothers arms, as an offering to aliens. They ended up okay, all of them except one. But it brought up the nazis and when the main character Captain Jack said, 'This whole planet is a big graveyard.' I thought yes, yes it is.
We sit on strangers bones daily.
I went on a roller coaster, I rode it and laughed and laughed. It was close to joy. I thought of my friend who says that when she rides her particular ride she laughs and cries and I really got it.
Tornado warnings here tonight, in the basement with a worried but clear headed 7 year old and two teenagers. This is a new friend of my son, he looks like Flapjack from that one cartoon but he has no sweetness or charm. I am glad to have a basement. Growing up we had a ditch to lay in when the sky turned green.
Back to my knee as it makes itself known. I missed my appointment yesterday morning. I called my surgeons gatekeeper and told her, she said they had no openings for two weeks. I am going to call again tomorrow and let her know I don't have the option of swelling reducing medication. Gatekeepers aka secretaries who wield power and lord over it like some fat king on a throne need to be handled with care. Nancy and I go way back, I used the same surgeon when my shoulder stopped working, I couldn't lift my arm, my left side, my writing and punching side. So there are 2-3 years of history. I know Nancy has my doctors back. I need to see my doctor so I can get a scan of my knee and make sure all structures are in place. Cortisone shots in my knee do not work well and that is too bad, maybe he will have another kind of steroid that does not explode like so many icicles all around my knee? We will see. I WILL get in to see him before two weeks, oh yes.
I don't care much for authority, up there with celebrities, all flawed humans pretending to have some power.
Tonight I listened to my brother as he explained the huge wall cloud descending on his neighborhood, the wind changing directions, the hail, the silence. I could hear the joy and awe in his voice and I felt proud. We saw Twister together so many years ago, I think that inspired him to love the weather like I do. We are just these little thoughts with skin on the outside, the big game is always the weather. It dictates everything about our lives if you think about it.
Our bodies break down, our minds deplete, my body sheds its extra weight, skin, and my appreciation for life accelerates. I have days of depression, it comes with being creative. I wanna be Kurt Vonnegut who grappled with the horror of war and made it tolerable through humor, who loved everyone without thought of some big present from God when he died. To be a humanist, to live in spite of the horror of humanity.
Tomorrow I hobble to the lake to stand in the water and watch my feet sink in the sand, enjoy the perch, listen to the kids play, the smells of Summer, suntan oil, something meaty on the grill, lake water.
My mother sent me a card. I don't speak to her, she asked for forgiveness. Forgiveness is important in life, most things can be forgiven, some things are so awful that forgiveness is not given. It is a gift, to be forgiven.
The last conversation we had was on speaker phone, someone dear to me got to hear how my Mother speaks to me. It was a treat that ended up with my dearest getting me some ice cream.
Haha. This is par for the course with her. I no longer expect her to care about me or mine. It feels good to let go.
We are moving towards moving within two years, probably Oregon maybe California. Mountains and the ocean and a quiet place to write and sleep are my basic needs. Creative good natured folks who live without drama and with joy and gratitude. Not that fake ass shit and all the clawing and one upping and rampant consumerism.
I grew up poor and I can say that money is not my no.1 priority in life. To be a good person and help others, to be the best Mother I can be, thats up there. Money is nice and it buys LUSH and vacations and BOOKS and I am more content with some pocket money but what we really have and own is inside us, the people we are, what we have, what we give.
It is a time of people leaving my life, and I honor that. Someone I deeply love and appreciate hasn't written or called, or reached out or reached back when I reached out. It makes me sad for a bit but maybe people are put in our lives for certain periods and then they move on or you move on. There are no hard feelings, it is just life.
So keep moving, keep loving, love more, grow, love God, love yourself, break free from what hinders you, swim don't sink. Hobble if you need to but keep walking.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
I don't care about the truth, I want the naked truth
A person has to cull the herd of people in their lives. That is how it is and how I choose to live my lifetime.
This is all a good thing. These people who are "family" have never shown that they are worthy of being my family. Its all take and who has the biggest television. I have given them love unconditionally. I raised my brother and sister, I have encouraged them to better their lives, by being positive, by loving them and telling them that I love them. It has no effect, their upbringing was entirely different then mine.
So I move on, glad to be on my way to incredible adventures with my kids this Summer. Good people find their way to me and I dance a happy dance and gratitude instead of satitude fills me up.
Allow people who give into your life. Most people are takers, selfish, self serving, unable, unenlightened, unwilling to reach out to anyone else. It is those of us who make a difference or try real hard that gives me hope for this world. The rest of them? They will go on polluting with their words of hate and consumerism.
All around us people are obsessed with money and bigger and better. To me bigger and better is that last 10 lbs I lost and how I am coping through these trying times while being a good parent, being as in the moment and as focused as I can on my kids.
If I can make it through today, I can probably make it through tomorrow, I know every version of pain from heartbreak to a shoulder torn from its socket.
Enough pain, I don't want to spend anymore time in Painville. Some people, all they have is pain to give. They are merely ghosts that pass through us and they are gone.
I am onto pleasureville. It started with a mango smoothie today and a ripe nectarine. Followed by the consuming scent of a overgrown rose garden. I know I need to trim but it to me is gorgeous in its intense color and wildness.
Embrace it. Love anyways.
Mezilla
This is all a good thing. These people who are "family" have never shown that they are worthy of being my family. Its all take and who has the biggest television. I have given them love unconditionally. I raised my brother and sister, I have encouraged them to better their lives, by being positive, by loving them and telling them that I love them. It has no effect, their upbringing was entirely different then mine.
So I move on, glad to be on my way to incredible adventures with my kids this Summer. Good people find their way to me and I dance a happy dance and gratitude instead of satitude fills me up.
Allow people who give into your life. Most people are takers, selfish, self serving, unable, unenlightened, unwilling to reach out to anyone else. It is those of us who make a difference or try real hard that gives me hope for this world. The rest of them? They will go on polluting with their words of hate and consumerism.
All around us people are obsessed with money and bigger and better. To me bigger and better is that last 10 lbs I lost and how I am coping through these trying times while being a good parent, being as in the moment and as focused as I can on my kids.
If I can make it through today, I can probably make it through tomorrow, I know every version of pain from heartbreak to a shoulder torn from its socket.
Enough pain, I don't want to spend anymore time in Painville. Some people, all they have is pain to give. They are merely ghosts that pass through us and they are gone.
I am onto pleasureville. It started with a mango smoothie today and a ripe nectarine. Followed by the consuming scent of a overgrown rose garden. I know I need to trim but it to me is gorgeous in its intense color and wildness.
Embrace it. Love anyways.
Mezilla
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Every thorn has a Rose
The key is to not take deep breaths. To take small breaths, to lay as still as possible. Absolute dark helps.
There is the body and then there is Rose. The body is just that, a body that has required alot of pain to get right. Rose is always going, always growing, writing, I remember in the hospital borrowing a sharpie and taking some notes on my hand.
Morphine pain pumps are pretty sweet.
My Mom is my Mom. Meaning, she gave birth to me and I am thankful for that. She forgot she has two grand children once my sisters baby was born but that is her choice and not something I gotta dwell over or take on. When she comes to town it is for her newest grandchild. When my daughter asked me why grandma didn't come over I told her. In not so many words. Truth hurts but it really sets us free.
I love all the stages my kids went through, sure babies are fun, but I am biased, I love my kids.
My son is covered in a rash and sleeps all day. He made a little cross to put in the flag holder (that didn't have a flag in it) and that was really awesome of him.
I have found that if you don't depend on people you wont be disappointed. So few people are to be trusted, it is not that anything is wrong with them, it is just that the majority of people are so self consumed they are incapable of being trusted.
I picked some roses. I sleep. I wait for the thunderstorms to come. I keep dreaming of moving and finding my new home and packing and fitting my stuff in. Dunno how I end up in Chicago.
More likely to end up far far away from others, thats what satellite wifi is for, right?
Less people more creative goings on. Some fruit trees, some gardens, solitude.
I think the general population needs a television, I am happy without it. In the hospital the nurses were pushing watching tv, I had no desire to watch it. If I want to watch a show, I download it. No commercials.
Shawn and her group are partying it up this weekend. I tried to go but not dice with the free air miles.
Here comes Lydia again to get me to head outside in the heat and mosquitos, which I will do with a smile.
I am not sure where we are moving but we are, new friends, a family we make ourselves, a small bubble of society where everyone cares about each other helps.
Right now I am doing it all myself.
There is the body and then there is Rose. The body is just that, a body that has required alot of pain to get right. Rose is always going, always growing, writing, I remember in the hospital borrowing a sharpie and taking some notes on my hand.
Morphine pain pumps are pretty sweet.
My Mom is my Mom. Meaning, she gave birth to me and I am thankful for that. She forgot she has two grand children once my sisters baby was born but that is her choice and not something I gotta dwell over or take on. When she comes to town it is for her newest grandchild. When my daughter asked me why grandma didn't come over I told her. In not so many words. Truth hurts but it really sets us free.
I love all the stages my kids went through, sure babies are fun, but I am biased, I love my kids.
My son is covered in a rash and sleeps all day. He made a little cross to put in the flag holder (that didn't have a flag in it) and that was really awesome of him.
I have found that if you don't depend on people you wont be disappointed. So few people are to be trusted, it is not that anything is wrong with them, it is just that the majority of people are so self consumed they are incapable of being trusted.
I picked some roses. I sleep. I wait for the thunderstorms to come. I keep dreaming of moving and finding my new home and packing and fitting my stuff in. Dunno how I end up in Chicago.
More likely to end up far far away from others, thats what satellite wifi is for, right?
Less people more creative goings on. Some fruit trees, some gardens, solitude.
I think the general population needs a television, I am happy without it. In the hospital the nurses were pushing watching tv, I had no desire to watch it. If I want to watch a show, I download it. No commercials.
Shawn and her group are partying it up this weekend. I tried to go but not dice with the free air miles.
Here comes Lydia again to get me to head outside in the heat and mosquitos, which I will do with a smile.
I am not sure where we are moving but we are, new friends, a family we make ourselves, a small bubble of society where everyone cares about each other helps.
Right now I am doing it all myself.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
People who eat alot and constantly
In fancy restaurants while others are spending 14.99 at the grocery store, hoping just fucking hoping that it will be enough for her family to eat till Friday when the check comes.
I throw up and I throw up some more. Today in a public bathroom, in my car. In the privacy of my own hell/home.
I have to sleep because I can't stand my reality. I can't stand how shallow and indifferent people are. How people only care about what you can give them, how wanty people are, how most people are takers and will walk right over your broken body to get what they feel they have coming.
You don't know poor. So few have gone without. I can't even think about my childhood and having nothing new for school each Fall, it shames me to no end that we were poor. I remember my Mom leaving us in the car for hours while she stood in line to buy Coke syrup, the cheapest medicine they had. My brother peed his snowsuit, I lost my mind with fear. I zipped up his suit and I cut his chin. We froze a little that day.
I never want to be poor. I never want my kids to go without. I am feral in that respect. I don't mean fancy clothes, I mean clothes that fit. Shirts too short, pants out of fashion, trying to make buttons closed with safety pins. Walking in the snow with polyester pants. My snow boots falling apart, my small feet open to the elements.
No one intervened. No one cared. Jesus was nowhere, he wasn't carrying me, he was hitching a ride on my back. Suffer ye little children.
I read some where that poor people are kept poor because they freely share resources in their neighborhoods. If someone needs some food they give it. If someone needs to see a doctor they all go in and pay.
The rich will never know these kindnesses. The rich will eat and eat and then when their arteries get blocked they will hire some fancy cardiologist to make them better.
The only rich people I give a shit for are the ones who give their money away.
Fuck money.
My sister told me that love is priceless. Love has a price. Today it involves swallowing puke and continuing to read my daughter bedtime stories while trying not to feel too sorry for myself.
I throw up and I throw up some more. Today in a public bathroom, in my car. In the privacy of my own hell/home.
I have to sleep because I can't stand my reality. I can't stand how shallow and indifferent people are. How people only care about what you can give them, how wanty people are, how most people are takers and will walk right over your broken body to get what they feel they have coming.
You don't know poor. So few have gone without. I can't even think about my childhood and having nothing new for school each Fall, it shames me to no end that we were poor. I remember my Mom leaving us in the car for hours while she stood in line to buy Coke syrup, the cheapest medicine they had. My brother peed his snowsuit, I lost my mind with fear. I zipped up his suit and I cut his chin. We froze a little that day.
I never want to be poor. I never want my kids to go without. I am feral in that respect. I don't mean fancy clothes, I mean clothes that fit. Shirts too short, pants out of fashion, trying to make buttons closed with safety pins. Walking in the snow with polyester pants. My snow boots falling apart, my small feet open to the elements.
No one intervened. No one cared. Jesus was nowhere, he wasn't carrying me, he was hitching a ride on my back. Suffer ye little children.
I read some where that poor people are kept poor because they freely share resources in their neighborhoods. If someone needs some food they give it. If someone needs to see a doctor they all go in and pay.
The rich will never know these kindnesses. The rich will eat and eat and then when their arteries get blocked they will hire some fancy cardiologist to make them better.
The only rich people I give a shit for are the ones who give their money away.
Fuck money.
My sister told me that love is priceless. Love has a price. Today it involves swallowing puke and continuing to read my daughter bedtime stories while trying not to feel too sorry for myself.
Monday, April 26, 2010
California state of mind, my pants
A rented house. I can see it. Its wood shingles, flowers welcoming. A good sized fenced in backyard. Neighbors that are kindly. Kids playing outside.
The smell of the ocean. Riding my bike to the indie owned grocery store or WHOLE FOODS. People around me who are quick to become friends. BBQ's, good music. Good people.
Good people.
I don't want to get all Jimmy Buffet, as this isn't a Rose Hill booze cruise, I will make a difference in whatever community I live in.
My friend hit me with a sad truth, all the hot little mens I see in uniform who are around my age are ALL married or too young. There has got to be one warrior waiting, eh?
I gotta find a photo of the perfect house.
Some of you know of my love for vintage looking dresses and funky skirts. As of right now, nothing fits, except somehow my tittays have moved up. My pajama bottoms fall off as I walk. I wear yoga pants with a tie waist, I have 4 pairs of these and a tshirt. I have so few tshirts,
My feet are definitely 7.5 and no longer possibly 8.
Yep.
Im shrinking!
However, 140 in Michigan is 250 in California.
A woman with a figure has got to rock her curves. Especially when I am working out for the 3rd time of the day with my fellow Steppford Wives.
NEVER!
Show me where the do gooder lovely freaks live and we will make it home.
Just promise no earthquakes so big that the Leviathan rises from the sea.
The smell of the ocean. Riding my bike to the indie owned grocery store or WHOLE FOODS. People around me who are quick to become friends. BBQ's, good music. Good people.
Good people.
I don't want to get all Jimmy Buffet, as this isn't a Rose Hill booze cruise, I will make a difference in whatever community I live in.
My friend hit me with a sad truth, all the hot little mens I see in uniform who are around my age are ALL married or too young. There has got to be one warrior waiting, eh?
I gotta find a photo of the perfect house.
Some of you know of my love for vintage looking dresses and funky skirts. As of right now, nothing fits, except somehow my tittays have moved up. My pajama bottoms fall off as I walk. I wear yoga pants with a tie waist, I have 4 pairs of these and a tshirt. I have so few tshirts,
My feet are definitely 7.5 and no longer possibly 8.
Yep.
Im shrinking!
However, 140 in Michigan is 250 in California.
A woman with a figure has got to rock her curves. Especially when I am working out for the 3rd time of the day with my fellow Steppford Wives.
NEVER!
Show me where the do gooder lovely freaks live and we will make it home.
Just promise no earthquakes so big that the Leviathan rises from the sea.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
On choking on jello
Dear God,
I am writing you now because you obviously have not been reading my mind. I am losing weight like crazy it wont be long till I start heroin. I am also bulimic because no food will stay down. Remember how this surgery was supposed to make everything ok? And by the way, where is my memory reader? I have two and my bedroom is only so big. Okay its pretty big for a bedroom and I do like the dark purple paint on the walls and the elephants and other art. And how the animals come in here to chill with me as I mentally stay alert while my body contorts itself.
I am so revulsed by my state of physical being, I retreat deeper inside. My faith is never questioned. I know I survive by will alone, I know that darkness is two steps behind me and if I must, I will fall forward, crawl with my fingers, forward, always forward. This path, my life path, for all the pain, has allowed me to love deeper, to know you God and to walk in faith.
Without a specific religion, besides one of kindness and compassion, I do your will. Big and small and always. Because I can, because I must.
As you know, I am a born giver. I recognize it is time to receive, that the well will never be dry but its pretty low. I welcome true and loyal friends into my existence. I welcome a good and true man, a man who is not without faults but owns them and keeps the faith, is with good humor and is capable of knowing himself, knowing me.
Back to my body.
I will always be a short person with a tall persons attitude, which is why you made me tough, the few fights I've gotten into have been with men, when I see red its all over. I am sorry for the physical pain I've caused but aren't you glad I never got a gun?!
God, you have such a great sense of humor. I don't think people give you props for that.
I ask as always that you look out for people, accept them into heaven and that God, you give me a chance to serve.
I hate wearing this hair shirt, I can't count how many scars I have on my stomach anymore. How many iv's I've had put in, how I make my surgeon laugh when he is watching the barbed wire medicine go through my veins and all I can do is clench.
I leave it in your hands to heal me, I will do my best down here, I am alone in this one and I have people depending on me.
In a few hours the barbed wire will be back, I will hear "You look dehydrated." for the 400th time. I will count ceiling tiles and remember the nurses names, their stories and faces so familiar now.
Thank you for my life and I'm trying. Always trying.
I am writing you now because you obviously have not been reading my mind. I am losing weight like crazy it wont be long till I start heroin. I am also bulimic because no food will stay down. Remember how this surgery was supposed to make everything ok? And by the way, where is my memory reader? I have two and my bedroom is only so big. Okay its pretty big for a bedroom and I do like the dark purple paint on the walls and the elephants and other art. And how the animals come in here to chill with me as I mentally stay alert while my body contorts itself.
I am so revulsed by my state of physical being, I retreat deeper inside. My faith is never questioned. I know I survive by will alone, I know that darkness is two steps behind me and if I must, I will fall forward, crawl with my fingers, forward, always forward. This path, my life path, for all the pain, has allowed me to love deeper, to know you God and to walk in faith.
Without a specific religion, besides one of kindness and compassion, I do your will. Big and small and always. Because I can, because I must.
As you know, I am a born giver. I recognize it is time to receive, that the well will never be dry but its pretty low. I welcome true and loyal friends into my existence. I welcome a good and true man, a man who is not without faults but owns them and keeps the faith, is with good humor and is capable of knowing himself, knowing me.
Back to my body.
I will always be a short person with a tall persons attitude, which is why you made me tough, the few fights I've gotten into have been with men, when I see red its all over. I am sorry for the physical pain I've caused but aren't you glad I never got a gun?!
God, you have such a great sense of humor. I don't think people give you props for that.
I ask as always that you look out for people, accept them into heaven and that God, you give me a chance to serve.
I hate wearing this hair shirt, I can't count how many scars I have on my stomach anymore. How many iv's I've had put in, how I make my surgeon laugh when he is watching the barbed wire medicine go through my veins and all I can do is clench.
I leave it in your hands to heal me, I will do my best down here, I am alone in this one and I have people depending on me.
In a few hours the barbed wire will be back, I will hear "You look dehydrated." for the 400th time. I will count ceiling tiles and remember the nurses names, their stories and faces so familiar now.
Thank you for my life and I'm trying. Always trying.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
The story of my demon lover with zombies
I am walking down a road with wrecked cars all over. I see people in the backseats but no one in the front seat. I get ahead of the cars when a woman pulls up and tells me to get in. I do. I soon find out that she is crazy. Or atleast she drives crazy and acts crazy.
After some Dukes of Hazzard jumps we finally end up at a industrial looking place.
Since the power grid is down, the doors open easily. This is a prison, a special kinda prison for people with super powers that aren't exactly GOOD. Flying overhead in a fenced off aviary is a huge guy. He is spitting on everyone down below. I put my jacket up over my head and think how lovely he must be to know.
The assorted neutral to close to evil super heroes are quite interesting. A true witch who had feathers growing out of her hairline. A hauntargian which meant that he would write letters from the dead, you just needed to by right by him. Creepy Resident Evil kinds of people and a token blue person.
The flying guy took an interest in me and flew due for 'inspection'. I tolerated none of his shit and he found that interesting. He had horns. He was supermanesque. With a kind of Wolverine attitude. Just when we started to speak being to super being, some truly evil dudes came.
He is thrown into a state of stasis and will die soon. I had lost my voice in all the turmoil and whispered something to his mostly lifeless body, somehow he heard it and nodded his head.
Everyone, all the super beings with their various neurosis came up with a plan. It involved a spell cast in a hat. I had to pee in the hat as a final ingredient. It was as glamorous as a bed pan and I had no idea why my urine out of all the super beings urine was the ONE.
Nothing happened.
I then began to recite bible words. Some of the super beings shrank, as if bitten, a golden light shone and the flying guy was alive again.
This was my time to go. So I left. He followed. The sun burned him and made him shrink down to normal size. I kept walking.
Then the zombies came. I found a car, I found keys. I was off and my flying guy was on the roof, still shrinking. He was huge, on the roof he slightly caved it in but I couldn't notice because I was dodging and not dodging zombies.
I followed my instincts back to this wooded place the corner lot had a blue house that was so familiar to me in this dream. We ran up to it and by then he was normal man sized and we had a few people with us. I knew where everything in the house was. It was if an Aunt knew we were coming, but a decade too late. There was food. There was watered down booze. We could wait out the zombies.
The flying guy and I, both having served in World War Z became close. He apologized for his behavior in his own way, apologized for banging my crazy friend, he told me that MY urine and my faith saved him.
I guess this is my version of a Disney love story? I have the weirdest coolest dreams.
After some Dukes of Hazzard jumps we finally end up at a industrial looking place.
Since the power grid is down, the doors open easily. This is a prison, a special kinda prison for people with super powers that aren't exactly GOOD. Flying overhead in a fenced off aviary is a huge guy. He is spitting on everyone down below. I put my jacket up over my head and think how lovely he must be to know.
The assorted neutral to close to evil super heroes are quite interesting. A true witch who had feathers growing out of her hairline. A hauntargian which meant that he would write letters from the dead, you just needed to by right by him. Creepy Resident Evil kinds of people and a token blue person.
The flying guy took an interest in me and flew due for 'inspection'. I tolerated none of his shit and he found that interesting. He had horns. He was supermanesque. With a kind of Wolverine attitude. Just when we started to speak being to super being, some truly evil dudes came.
He is thrown into a state of stasis and will die soon. I had lost my voice in all the turmoil and whispered something to his mostly lifeless body, somehow he heard it and nodded his head.
Everyone, all the super beings with their various neurosis came up with a plan. It involved a spell cast in a hat. I had to pee in the hat as a final ingredient. It was as glamorous as a bed pan and I had no idea why my urine out of all the super beings urine was the ONE.
Nothing happened.
I then began to recite bible words. Some of the super beings shrank, as if bitten, a golden light shone and the flying guy was alive again.
This was my time to go. So I left. He followed. The sun burned him and made him shrink down to normal size. I kept walking.
Then the zombies came. I found a car, I found keys. I was off and my flying guy was on the roof, still shrinking. He was huge, on the roof he slightly caved it in but I couldn't notice because I was dodging and not dodging zombies.
I followed my instincts back to this wooded place the corner lot had a blue house that was so familiar to me in this dream. We ran up to it and by then he was normal man sized and we had a few people with us. I knew where everything in the house was. It was if an Aunt knew we were coming, but a decade too late. There was food. There was watered down booze. We could wait out the zombies.
The flying guy and I, both having served in World War Z became close. He apologized for his behavior in his own way, apologized for banging my crazy friend, he told me that MY urine and my faith saved him.
I guess this is my version of a Disney love story? I have the weirdest coolest dreams.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The fan is on 2, to let the brevity of warm air in.
The smells of Spring, frantic in their dispersal
I wait for the pain meds to kick in. Drink the coldest water.
Contemplate. For weeks now, my life has been played mainly in my head.
No physical action outside of the very basic. If I were a buddhist I would go on
about patience and peace. I am not patient. It is not in my core. I am a do it
now kinda gal. The first idea is usually the best. My idea is to get things moving.
Shake this town. Go west. I am a native Arizonian. I know desert and mountains.
Being part mermaid, I can dive deep into the cold. The stories in my book are
so personal it terrifies me. I can't go back and make them about someone else.
Its dishonest. Whats interesting are the oddities of life, leaving, coming back, leaving.
Grow on Rose Hill. Write anyways, when it gets scary keep going. This is what you give
when you are a writer. You give your insides and move on. It only hurts for a moment.
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.
The smells of Spring, frantic in their dispersal
I wait for the pain meds to kick in. Drink the coldest water.
Contemplate. For weeks now, my life has been played mainly in my head.
No physical action outside of the very basic. If I were a buddhist I would go on
about patience and peace. I am not patient. It is not in my core. I am a do it
now kinda gal. The first idea is usually the best. My idea is to get things moving.
Shake this town. Go west. I am a native Arizonian. I know desert and mountains.
Being part mermaid, I can dive deep into the cold. The stories in my book are
so personal it terrifies me. I can't go back and make them about someone else.
Its dishonest. Whats interesting are the oddities of life, leaving, coming back, leaving.
Grow on Rose Hill. Write anyways, when it gets scary keep going. This is what you give
when you are a writer. You give your insides and move on. It only hurts for a moment.
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Wild Child
I asked my son tonight if he was ready, ready to be a senior, to start his life and so on. He said he was. For 16.5 years I have protected, nurtured, cleaned, fed, played with, fought with this now, young man. I was 20/21 when I got pregnant and had him. I will be the youngest parent at graduation a year and two months from now. I get carded, I lack wrinkles. I have been encaged in this domestic life. My foot stapled to the floor while I raised my kids in this ideal neighborhood. So expensive to live in, the houses ranch, nothing fancy here.
So that job is coming to an end. I know that I will lose it a bit so I am ready for a new life. A move to California, a switch in professions. My daughter needs to be more like me insofar as I am ready to go at anytime. The things that truly matter I carry in my head and heart.
I spent my 20's being a Mom, 30's too. Wonder what my 40's will hold? I need to go fast, thats a basic need right now, I need to do more to make the world better for my kids and everyone elses kids.
Love will find me, but in all this, I truly know I have done the best I can with my son, Miles. My work is not really over. We parent our kids all of our lives, just in different zones.
College is up next. College night is next week. I find this so amusing as I am just about ready for another degree. My son and I got braces at the same time, how about we go to the same college? Hahaha. See, you never stop torturing your kids, in a good way. Keeps them on their toes.
For all these years their Father has paid me for my work as a Mother. It is a pretty sweet deal but I have always been more then a Mother. I have an insatiable curiosity and passion. I always want more and now and right now and god damn it lets go!
I seek a partner who will travel with me. A person to travel with who is not uptight and can bend and not break in most situations. Someone who has my back and vice versa. Someone who laughs as much as I do at the absurdities. I don't mind physical labor, its just that I am a better planner.
This week my first employer passed on. I picked green beans, strawberries for him when I was 12 on up. He was an alcoholic and needed a shower. Farmer Ed, RIP.
On top of those duties were barn duties and childcare. I know work.
I heal and its been almost a week since my last hospital stay.
Thank you Jesus that I am not allergic to morphine.
I have been listening to a local boy, Iggy Pop aka Jim Osterberg lately.
My Mom told me today that I looked like I was melting. I feel like I am dropping all excess, spreading my wings and so on.
This post is without wit, I think my wit organ is clogged at the moment. Instead, some prose.
I throw up and keep driving.
The rain smacks heavily onto the windshield.
One wiper smacks, out of whack, the other glides.
The sky is oppressive. Humidity high, curls abound.
Two dogs, one small girl and me, on the way to my Moms.
Great words come and go and I couldn't pull over if I wanted to.
No sleep and little food keep me focused forward.
I live like I am living in California. I am drawing my tribe. I have
said goodbyes. The great lakes are my lakes, so cold and full of stories.
All water is my friend. Respect is given. I keep driving.
Good songs come on the radio and I sing along.
I love to sing but few people know it. There is honesty
in the voice that I cannot release in words right now.
Music so much of my life. Many soundtracks 1 life.
This Summer, I will take my son and his longtime best friend to Lollapalooza.
I was pregnant with him, in 1993, when we went. Now its in Chicago and its
hot and miserable. I hang out in the kids area, where the trees are, while he
gets wild in the pit. We all watched the Raconteurs last time out. My favorite
part was the end of the hot hot day, when we watched The Violent Femmes. My
first alternative band, the first inkling that I was immensely different then my
small town school. My kid shook his head to the beat and my tiny girl child and I
danced and danced.
So that job is coming to an end. I know that I will lose it a bit so I am ready for a new life. A move to California, a switch in professions. My daughter needs to be more like me insofar as I am ready to go at anytime. The things that truly matter I carry in my head and heart.
I spent my 20's being a Mom, 30's too. Wonder what my 40's will hold? I need to go fast, thats a basic need right now, I need to do more to make the world better for my kids and everyone elses kids.
Love will find me, but in all this, I truly know I have done the best I can with my son, Miles. My work is not really over. We parent our kids all of our lives, just in different zones.
College is up next. College night is next week. I find this so amusing as I am just about ready for another degree. My son and I got braces at the same time, how about we go to the same college? Hahaha. See, you never stop torturing your kids, in a good way. Keeps them on their toes.
For all these years their Father has paid me for my work as a Mother. It is a pretty sweet deal but I have always been more then a Mother. I have an insatiable curiosity and passion. I always want more and now and right now and god damn it lets go!
I seek a partner who will travel with me. A person to travel with who is not uptight and can bend and not break in most situations. Someone who has my back and vice versa. Someone who laughs as much as I do at the absurdities. I don't mind physical labor, its just that I am a better planner.
This week my first employer passed on. I picked green beans, strawberries for him when I was 12 on up. He was an alcoholic and needed a shower. Farmer Ed, RIP.
On top of those duties were barn duties and childcare. I know work.
I heal and its been almost a week since my last hospital stay.
Thank you Jesus that I am not allergic to morphine.
I have been listening to a local boy, Iggy Pop aka Jim Osterberg lately.
My Mom told me today that I looked like I was melting. I feel like I am dropping all excess, spreading my wings and so on.
This post is without wit, I think my wit organ is clogged at the moment. Instead, some prose.
I throw up and keep driving.
The rain smacks heavily onto the windshield.
One wiper smacks, out of whack, the other glides.
The sky is oppressive. Humidity high, curls abound.
Two dogs, one small girl and me, on the way to my Moms.
Great words come and go and I couldn't pull over if I wanted to.
No sleep and little food keep me focused forward.
I live like I am living in California. I am drawing my tribe. I have
said goodbyes. The great lakes are my lakes, so cold and full of stories.
All water is my friend. Respect is given. I keep driving.
Good songs come on the radio and I sing along.
I love to sing but few people know it. There is honesty
in the voice that I cannot release in words right now.
Music so much of my life. Many soundtracks 1 life.
This Summer, I will take my son and his longtime best friend to Lollapalooza.
I was pregnant with him, in 1993, when we went. Now its in Chicago and its
hot and miserable. I hang out in the kids area, where the trees are, while he
gets wild in the pit. We all watched the Raconteurs last time out. My favorite
part was the end of the hot hot day, when we watched The Violent Femmes. My
first alternative band, the first inkling that I was immensely different then my
small town school. My kid shook his head to the beat and my tiny girl child and I
danced and danced.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Scoundrels, Reckless miscreants and other interesting people
I gotta get back to work. Sure my job is easy but it still requires a clear head.
After I crashed and then fell yesterday I have been hurting. Its okay though because I got some SLEEP. Sleep is a wonderful thing. Never underestimate sleep.
Sleep is good
Sleep is great
Sleep is better then the cream of wheat I ate!
Tittays tittays.
I am working on a book of prose now. I don't say poems because I don't fancy myself a poemtress. Poet. I like my pen to be as mighty as a sword. But then there are poems that make you bleed a little and that is good.
I can get prose out quickly. Crafting stories takes a bit longer. Maybe I should of been a reference librarian who wears expensive lingerie?
My camera is missing. I wanted to take some photos of my incisions. They are in the shape of a small shark, bite. A playful nip, really.
My son is brilliant. He lacks the arrogance to go along with his sensational adeptness at whatever instrument he picks up. The life of a person in music is hard though, glad he is getting a degree. 16.5 years I have been a parent. I wont count the 9 months of reading Shakespeare and listening to good music and eating right.
I feel 25 really, 30 on worse days. Age is such a funny concept. I keep looking in the mirror to see if I am wrinkled or anything beyond my normal self. If you look really close, there are 1-2 laugh lines. That just means I laugh alot.
It might be the braces.
After I crashed and then fell yesterday I have been hurting. Its okay though because I got some SLEEP. Sleep is a wonderful thing. Never underestimate sleep.
Sleep is good
Sleep is great
Sleep is better then the cream of wheat I ate!
Tittays tittays.
I am working on a book of prose now. I don't say poems because I don't fancy myself a poemtress. Poet. I like my pen to be as mighty as a sword. But then there are poems that make you bleed a little and that is good.
I can get prose out quickly. Crafting stories takes a bit longer. Maybe I should of been a reference librarian who wears expensive lingerie?
My camera is missing. I wanted to take some photos of my incisions. They are in the shape of a small shark, bite. A playful nip, really.
My son is brilliant. He lacks the arrogance to go along with his sensational adeptness at whatever instrument he picks up. The life of a person in music is hard though, glad he is getting a degree. 16.5 years I have been a parent. I wont count the 9 months of reading Shakespeare and listening to good music and eating right.
I feel 25 really, 30 on worse days. Age is such a funny concept. I keep looking in the mirror to see if I am wrinkled or anything beyond my normal self. If you look really close, there are 1-2 laugh lines. That just means I laugh alot.
It might be the braces.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
So nice outside
So hot in here. Fever keeps coming up. Have a z pack for strep, wonder whats lurking in my intestines? Turtles, the candy? That would be great.
We can't force healing. Rest and hydration and narcotic pain medicines are the way to go. Oxycontin hasn't really been doing it for me. Sure it knocks me out but then 2 hours later I am up and the pain is there.
So I am on Lortab, which I believe to be liquid Vicodin.
This a peek into my day.
Around now, go to sleep after reading a few paragraphs.
Sleep 2-3 hours. Wake up, assess pain. Slowly and with much gentleness switch positions.
Dog moves with me. Cat is indifferent.
Fan is on me, heating pad is on the place that hurts the worse.
I feel like there is some kind of volcano Tiki king that needs to be calmed down. So I throw vitamins and medications down there in hopes it will calm the hell down.
Go back to sleep.
Wake up hopefully less then 3x before my daughter comes in. Full of sweetness and love.
Get up. This part sucks, stomach muscles cut, I gotta do labor breathing for this one.
Go pee. Sit there for as long as it takes to summon the strength to get back up.
While in the bathroom I am visited by every living thing in my house, save for the cat I call Loaf.
Loaf and I don't see eye to eye. Also, wont it be funny when Loaf, the feral ceiling cat breaks through the ceiling because she has become so grande?
Suck down pain medication.
Kids off to school.
Shower. Standing or sitting.
Fresh pajamas/lounge wear.
Have cup of broth with whey protein.
I had TEA today! It was wonderful and a step back to normalcy.
By this point I am so whipped, I get back in bed and try to read or make something of myself, but I end up sleeping for several hours in preparation of the kids coming home.
Through all this I drink water. I can't just swig it down, each drink is actually 3 sips, to measured out in my mouth slowly. If I fuck up and the swollen pouch is too full the pain is immediate and severe.
Yep, pissed off God. Very old testament.
I forgot to add that I clean light stuff throughout the day and get my daughters clothes together. I had 6 outfits ready pre op and now I am hustling to get her dressed. Otherwise she would go to school with ill fitting clown type club clothes.
I am keeping up on forums and facebook.
We had to replace a tire and get a new water heater. Usually I would be stating that it is my birth month and saying that its 12 shopping days till my birthday but this year, I am not as amped.
Fun times to be had. Gotta get healed. Walked alot today.
We can't force healing. Rest and hydration and narcotic pain medicines are the way to go. Oxycontin hasn't really been doing it for me. Sure it knocks me out but then 2 hours later I am up and the pain is there.
So I am on Lortab, which I believe to be liquid Vicodin.
This a peek into my day.
Around now, go to sleep after reading a few paragraphs.
Sleep 2-3 hours. Wake up, assess pain. Slowly and with much gentleness switch positions.
Dog moves with me. Cat is indifferent.
Fan is on me, heating pad is on the place that hurts the worse.
I feel like there is some kind of volcano Tiki king that needs to be calmed down. So I throw vitamins and medications down there in hopes it will calm the hell down.
Go back to sleep.
Wake up hopefully less then 3x before my daughter comes in. Full of sweetness and love.
Get up. This part sucks, stomach muscles cut, I gotta do labor breathing for this one.
Go pee. Sit there for as long as it takes to summon the strength to get back up.
While in the bathroom I am visited by every living thing in my house, save for the cat I call Loaf.
Loaf and I don't see eye to eye. Also, wont it be funny when Loaf, the feral ceiling cat breaks through the ceiling because she has become so grande?
Suck down pain medication.
Kids off to school.
Shower. Standing or sitting.
Fresh pajamas/lounge wear.
Have cup of broth with whey protein.
I had TEA today! It was wonderful and a step back to normalcy.
By this point I am so whipped, I get back in bed and try to read or make something of myself, but I end up sleeping for several hours in preparation of the kids coming home.
Through all this I drink water. I can't just swig it down, each drink is actually 3 sips, to measured out in my mouth slowly. If I fuck up and the swollen pouch is too full the pain is immediate and severe.
Yep, pissed off God. Very old testament.
I forgot to add that I clean light stuff throughout the day and get my daughters clothes together. I had 6 outfits ready pre op and now I am hustling to get her dressed. Otherwise she would go to school with ill fitting clown type club clothes.
I am keeping up on forums and facebook.
We had to replace a tire and get a new water heater. Usually I would be stating that it is my birth month and saying that its 12 shopping days till my birthday but this year, I am not as amped.
Fun times to be had. Gotta get healed. Walked alot today.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
On the verge
Oh body, do your thing and heal quick after the surgery. I expect to be down for just a while since I am a quick healer and bounce backer.
The bridesmaid dress isn't that bad. It reminds me of a cocktail dress or a prom dress but it could be flattering.
No kids here, watched some Olympics. Love the big dude on the bobsled team. He reminded me of most of the men here in Michigan. Also, Brian noted that he sported a package. Haha.
During the commercials I started to build a snow person, not sure if it will have breasts yet or not. Depends on how feisty I am feeling in the morning when my daughter gets home to build hers. Maybe we will give them dresses made out of all the fabric I keep around. Textures and beautiful things, here and there. I think the word eclectic gets tossed around too much. I truly have an electic home. And its a homey kinda home. God bless the folks who have 'no touch' kinds of places.
I am always ready for someone to come over and get up to something with me. Generally its my sons friends but my daughters friends are now at an age when they are coming over. Cupcakes, jump on the trampoline, watch Phineas and Ferb? Ok!
Thats how I usually am. My springy sprightly self.
Its when I get pulled under briefly that I gotta get in bed. Isolate myself until I am steady again. It really is all about balance.
Green is in the middle of the color spectrum, on those days when I choose to wear green, I usually feel spot on.
I can see myself getting a massage. No full release. Just strong hands finding the tension spots and letting them go. Shoulders and back, ack.
Be glad to get my stomach all fixed. Get rid of the plastic that is most likely poisoning me.
One month from now I will be on the mend.
The time between now and surgery I will be sincerely running. Gotta get outfits matched and stock up the larder. Clothes washed, lists made. Teenager needs new socks, jeans. My cat needs a trip to the vet. Paint my walls, reconfigure my bedroom. Figure out what to do with all these clothes. Put lounge wear together for me. Order netflix.
People after this surgery become exhausted just bathing. Bathing is vital to me. I wash off the day and I start the day fresh. So glad my 70's addition bedroom has its own pink bathroom. Will get a new shower curtain after I scrub it down.
Will enlist friends and my family. The thing is, I always help others so every once in a while I call in a favor. Can you take my daughter after school one day? Can you come over and talk to me as I am losing my marbles in this bedroom, kinda stuff.
Whew!
Its all a wave to ride, however, I am more of a body surfer, I like to go up and over and smell the lake. Getting to and getting through are way up on my list.
I have gotten so much done with my med transcript. course, atleast 1/4 into a year class. Its elementary stuff, like how to use a web browser and peripherals and CPU's and what is a mouse. Tests every coupla pages.
One thing I need to report is that I am not reading like I usually do. Is that good? I am doing more and reading less. I like getting into a good book, but so much to be done.
Have to beg my Mom to get Lu to school this Wednesday and next. It is truly bizarre how my Mom who is generally a kind and caring person will not make it easy for me to ask a favor. Just do it Moms! Lydia may be a big 7 but she needs you, I need you. If I could get her to school myself, I would.
Unlike myself, she cannot get herself up and ready to school. I even walked to the bus stop. After watching 'The Great Space Coaster'.
Its going to be great, its going to knock my socks off and I just gotta remain positive. Fuck worries and disasters. Easy easy easy.
The bridesmaid dress isn't that bad. It reminds me of a cocktail dress or a prom dress but it could be flattering.
No kids here, watched some Olympics. Love the big dude on the bobsled team. He reminded me of most of the men here in Michigan. Also, Brian noted that he sported a package. Haha.
During the commercials I started to build a snow person, not sure if it will have breasts yet or not. Depends on how feisty I am feeling in the morning when my daughter gets home to build hers. Maybe we will give them dresses made out of all the fabric I keep around. Textures and beautiful things, here and there. I think the word eclectic gets tossed around too much. I truly have an electic home. And its a homey kinda home. God bless the folks who have 'no touch' kinds of places.
I am always ready for someone to come over and get up to something with me. Generally its my sons friends but my daughters friends are now at an age when they are coming over. Cupcakes, jump on the trampoline, watch Phineas and Ferb? Ok!
Thats how I usually am. My springy sprightly self.
Its when I get pulled under briefly that I gotta get in bed. Isolate myself until I am steady again. It really is all about balance.
Green is in the middle of the color spectrum, on those days when I choose to wear green, I usually feel spot on.
I can see myself getting a massage. No full release. Just strong hands finding the tension spots and letting them go. Shoulders and back, ack.
Be glad to get my stomach all fixed. Get rid of the plastic that is most likely poisoning me.
One month from now I will be on the mend.
The time between now and surgery I will be sincerely running. Gotta get outfits matched and stock up the larder. Clothes washed, lists made. Teenager needs new socks, jeans. My cat needs a trip to the vet. Paint my walls, reconfigure my bedroom. Figure out what to do with all these clothes. Put lounge wear together for me. Order netflix.
People after this surgery become exhausted just bathing. Bathing is vital to me. I wash off the day and I start the day fresh. So glad my 70's addition bedroom has its own pink bathroom. Will get a new shower curtain after I scrub it down.
Will enlist friends and my family. The thing is, I always help others so every once in a while I call in a favor. Can you take my daughter after school one day? Can you come over and talk to me as I am losing my marbles in this bedroom, kinda stuff.
Whew!
Its all a wave to ride, however, I am more of a body surfer, I like to go up and over and smell the lake. Getting to and getting through are way up on my list.
I have gotten so much done with my med transcript. course, atleast 1/4 into a year class. Its elementary stuff, like how to use a web browser and peripherals and CPU's and what is a mouse. Tests every coupla pages.
One thing I need to report is that I am not reading like I usually do. Is that good? I am doing more and reading less. I like getting into a good book, but so much to be done.
Have to beg my Mom to get Lu to school this Wednesday and next. It is truly bizarre how my Mom who is generally a kind and caring person will not make it easy for me to ask a favor. Just do it Moms! Lydia may be a big 7 but she needs you, I need you. If I could get her to school myself, I would.
Unlike myself, she cannot get herself up and ready to school. I even walked to the bus stop. After watching 'The Great Space Coaster'.
Its going to be great, its going to knock my socks off and I just gotta remain positive. Fuck worries and disasters. Easy easy easy.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
That's not going to work for me, ZZ top, my giant liver
This post is all in good fun with some serious stuff mixed in. Thats my damn preface.
This is an old site but a goodie: http://www.etiquettehell.com/content/eh_misc/misc/dressincinerator.shtml
Here comes the bride, all dressed in white:
Why in Gods name would I want to go to the white trashiest part of my state to pick out a hideous fucking bridesmaid gown that I will have to pay for (which could go to something I want like upgrading my desktop) and sweat in, for a OCTOBER wedding. Why is this woman who is marrying my brother, who is 7 years younger then myself, and this woman is older then me, why why why did she ask me to be in her wedding?
My surgeon is the medical director, he did liver transplants, he did my other surgery and there were no complications. It doesn't matter. Blue eye shadow woman hates it! Her sister passed away last year from an accidental overdose of medications. I would of liked to have known her as she adopted children and seemed like a do gooder.
I salute people who make positive changes in their own lives and their life. Surgery is no small decision. I am sitting here writing out my will of sorts in case this is it. I am going on a self imposed liquid diet so that I can shrink my giant liver. It can't get nicked, I need it. I need him to not do it open vs. laproscopically then the recovery is longer and healing those big sucking wounds will take longer. No nicks, no leaks, no too much scar tissue. Quick and easy 2 hour surgery and I am awoken with a lovely pain pump I get to take home.
Sorry shark, the pain pump will be my new man. I will be pressing that bastard pretty much constantly.
Her vision of taste is not taste. Fake red flowers and sateeeeeen dresses. I am already guessing there will be matching parasols (dyed like our shitty shoes from PAYLESS HURT MORE) and perhaps a hat that goes up on one side.
I was in a wedding once. It was 1984 and I wore a cranberry satin jumpsuit, I weighed 95 lbs and it was my cousins wedding. My hair was permed tight and I had WHITE streaks. We showed up to the rehearsal drunk on Bartles and James, in a Camaro blasting ZZ Top, ok? So I have had that experience, when I was 12 fucking years old. I am done.
I texted my brother, who is so sick of this wedding planning already, that I couldn't swing a dress till March, for a wedding in OCTOBER (my caps) and that whatever ugly bow bedecked dress she likes is fine. I plan on getting a tight perm and WHITE streaks in my hair. I will be renting a Camaro with a cassette tape player and blasting 'Legs' when I show up to the wedding and wedding rehearsal, drunk.
*****
That's not going to work for me is a good way for genuinely nice people to let the person intruding know to back the fuck off.
*****
Clothes horse:
My sister and I are short people, short people should not wear choir esque robes that go down to the toes. Short people should wear flattering knee to mid calf at most. We are butt people. Bows only frame our booties. It does no one any favors. Especially for the tobacco chewing miscreant I will be trotting down the aisle with.
At first, it seemed cool, she seemed cool, this is the color, you find a dress. I can do that! There is a nice little flattering dress I could wear, definitely. Then she turned into a bridezilla.
Now its all no go.
So I say again, pick out the most hideous dress in the world my future sister in law, I will be so glad that my brother has health insurance for the first time in his adult life I don't care if I have to come in some duct taped outfit. Infact, that would be cool. I would prefer to wear a tuxedo jacket, my custom made corset, black mourning veil clipped to a red and black feathered fascinator, a skirt with a big zipper up one side and black and white striped tights to go with my combat boots.
I am a hippy a bit, I prefer organic and love to consumerism and the bullshit wedding money waster, but more of a punk DIYer with an esthetic that is outside the norm.
Thank Goddess for that. I also plan on getting my tattoos finished this Summer as my artist will be back in town so if the fianceeee wants a no tattoo wedding she better find a satin burkha.
Bwahahaha.
I will crush her with my kindness, I will slip into sheer hideousness, I will smile when I see my daughter as a flower girl (please baby Jesus let her dress be flattering, how wrong can you go with a flower girls dress????)
I like the woman my brother is about to marry. She tolerates my brother even when he declares that all her Christmas presents will be from CVS.
This is an old site but a goodie: http://www.etiquettehell.com/content/eh_misc/misc/dressincinerator.shtml
Here comes the bride, all dressed in white:
Why in Gods name would I want to go to the white trashiest part of my state to pick out a hideous fucking bridesmaid gown that I will have to pay for (which could go to something I want like upgrading my desktop) and sweat in, for a OCTOBER wedding. Why is this woman who is marrying my brother, who is 7 years younger then myself, and this woman is older then me, why why why did she ask me to be in her wedding?
My surgeon is the medical director, he did liver transplants, he did my other surgery and there were no complications. It doesn't matter. Blue eye shadow woman hates it! Her sister passed away last year from an accidental overdose of medications. I would of liked to have known her as she adopted children and seemed like a do gooder.
I salute people who make positive changes in their own lives and their life. Surgery is no small decision. I am sitting here writing out my will of sorts in case this is it. I am going on a self imposed liquid diet so that I can shrink my giant liver. It can't get nicked, I need it. I need him to not do it open vs. laproscopically then the recovery is longer and healing those big sucking wounds will take longer. No nicks, no leaks, no too much scar tissue. Quick and easy 2 hour surgery and I am awoken with a lovely pain pump I get to take home.
Sorry shark, the pain pump will be my new man. I will be pressing that bastard pretty much constantly.
Her vision of taste is not taste. Fake red flowers and sateeeeeen dresses. I am already guessing there will be matching parasols (dyed like our shitty shoes from PAYLESS HURT MORE) and perhaps a hat that goes up on one side.
I was in a wedding once. It was 1984 and I wore a cranberry satin jumpsuit, I weighed 95 lbs and it was my cousins wedding. My hair was permed tight and I had WHITE streaks. We showed up to the rehearsal drunk on Bartles and James, in a Camaro blasting ZZ Top, ok? So I have had that experience, when I was 12 fucking years old. I am done.
I texted my brother, who is so sick of this wedding planning already, that I couldn't swing a dress till March, for a wedding in OCTOBER (my caps) and that whatever ugly bow bedecked dress she likes is fine. I plan on getting a tight perm and WHITE streaks in my hair. I will be renting a Camaro with a cassette tape player and blasting 'Legs' when I show up to the wedding and wedding rehearsal, drunk.
*****
That's not going to work for me is a good way for genuinely nice people to let the person intruding know to back the fuck off.
*****
Clothes horse:
My sister and I are short people, short people should not wear choir esque robes that go down to the toes. Short people should wear flattering knee to mid calf at most. We are butt people. Bows only frame our booties. It does no one any favors. Especially for the tobacco chewing miscreant I will be trotting down the aisle with.
At first, it seemed cool, she seemed cool, this is the color, you find a dress. I can do that! There is a nice little flattering dress I could wear, definitely. Then she turned into a bridezilla.
Now its all no go.
So I say again, pick out the most hideous dress in the world my future sister in law, I will be so glad that my brother has health insurance for the first time in his adult life I don't care if I have to come in some duct taped outfit. Infact, that would be cool. I would prefer to wear a tuxedo jacket, my custom made corset, black mourning veil clipped to a red and black feathered fascinator, a skirt with a big zipper up one side and black and white striped tights to go with my combat boots.
I am a hippy a bit, I prefer organic and love to consumerism and the bullshit wedding money waster, but more of a punk DIYer with an esthetic that is outside the norm.
Thank Goddess for that. I also plan on getting my tattoos finished this Summer as my artist will be back in town so if the fianceeee wants a no tattoo wedding she better find a satin burkha.
Bwahahaha.
I will crush her with my kindness, I will slip into sheer hideousness, I will smile when I see my daughter as a flower girl (please baby Jesus let her dress be flattering, how wrong can you go with a flower girls dress????)
I like the woman my brother is about to marry. She tolerates my brother even when he declares that all her Christmas presents will be from CVS.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Booting up
Booting up is what your computer does all the time. It comes from the saying to pull yourself up by your boot straps, which most people, well some people have done a time or two. Those who have been faced with hardships and gotten through.
I haven't always been a geek, I haven't always been a Mother either. I have been booting up for many years, computer wise and otherwise.
There is so little besides love that I can provide for my daughter. Getting healthy foods in her and rehydrating her and being there when she wants to talk about the accident is where I am at. Today her Dad celebrated his 40th birthday. She began to get grumpier and grumpier as the day wore on. So excited was she for his birthday that she got up at 6:30. Now she sleeps and we all breathe a sigh of relief.
Feb 23, March 3, March 10 - all days of medical stuff. Testing, endoscope, surgery in that order.
I am taking my vitamins and loading up on protein. My knee did not do well with the cortisone and now my foot is turning in on itself and swelling. I need to get to the doctor but there is so much to do. I feel as if I jumped down from someplace high. That shock kind of feeling.
I am full on with my med transcript course. As soon as I finish this up they will find me a job and then I can pursue the writing dream without worrying about finances. That said, I plan on enrolling in college for my next degree in the Fall. I love student loans, keeps me afloat. I love taking classes and learning new things.
I am a laid back kinda person, happy and amused, I am a giver and a pleaser. I like my vacations like I like my men, without agendas. I am such a planner that waking up without a plan is a good growth experience.
I spend all my days planning, orchestrating the lives of 3 other people plus 5 cats and 3 dogs. On top of my work and irregular play.
I took the best nap while on vacation. It was so nice. I put earplugs in my ears and the sun permeated my cold self and warmed me up. I know what it is like to be sun kissed, all over.
So right now I am booting up, gotta walk through the pain and stop the narcotics, though relief is good and being able to walk is also a good thing.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Quotes
“so I wait for you like a lonely house
till you will see me again and live in me.
Till then my windows ache”
— Pablo Neruda
From one of my favorite books, by a traditional sci fi writer but this book is all about Summer for a youngster.
“Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I’m one of them.”
—
Ray bradbury, Dandelion wine
“If you go home with someone and they don’t have any books, don’t fuck them.”
—
John Waters
Woman, sister, the cave wants our skin back,
it wants to shake our legs free from salt
and untwist our hair into strands of yarn
pulled rootless from the pocket of a man
Sherwin Bitsui
"If you want to create, you have to sacrifice superficiality, some security, and often your desire to be liked, to draw up your most intense insights, your most far-reaching visions."
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Free thought
I look to myself to get things done.
My frustration is mostly at myself.
I will never be a golden girl.
But I will always be myself.
I probably wont morph into Godzilla, either.
But thats okay. Its okay. I have become accustomed to the pains.
I will be coming home from my trip to await more pains. Pain with a purpose.
Like birth.
Some people have wounds that have healed without really healing. They refuse to dig into them and let them ooze, see the sky. I have been here, so I understand. I just can't wrap my arms
around someone who refuses to budge, to go forward or backward. To merely
sink.
An open mind and heart can and do change the world. Or one persons life.
I happen to like the smell of bleach.
I am shy as heck about meeting new people but if we don't challenge ourselves to break out
of our email boxes, then whats the point? The worst would be if I clammed up and wasn't able to be myself, let the Rose hide and not shine my weird self, the best will be that I meet good new people.
I love coming back to my kids, I deplore coming back here and he is here. The sighs and lording, the 'I am the best' - always going on. To live with someone who HAS to be right all the time, that is just too much for me.
When I met him years ago, I was so glad to be around someone with smarts. I listen to him read a tongue twister book to our daughter, she isn't listening or interested. He is seriously reading it to prove to himself and whomever is listening that he can read it.
I would never want to hold such arrogance inside myself. I feel humble every day and blessed that I went from trailer living to mostly educated and loving and mostly healed and healing. Who is this man who is turning 40?
Please let us part in peace, let God find him a place nearby so that he is always there for the children. Let us find partners who fit us and kind destinies.
Dear God, Thank you for every day, even the ones that I can't get out of bed for.
Let my soul dance with Shawn and her friends in California. Let the waves lap at my
feet so I know I am at home. Mostly, Thank you for the people who have been able to get
some food in their bellies where there was none. Let tomorrow be brighter and kinder for everyone. Let your love shine down on us all, allow us to walk in faith, to be touched and touch. Amen.
My frustration is mostly at myself.
I will never be a golden girl.
But I will always be myself.
I probably wont morph into Godzilla, either.
But thats okay. Its okay. I have become accustomed to the pains.
I will be coming home from my trip to await more pains. Pain with a purpose.
Like birth.
Some people have wounds that have healed without really healing. They refuse to dig into them and let them ooze, see the sky. I have been here, so I understand. I just can't wrap my arms
around someone who refuses to budge, to go forward or backward. To merely
sink.
An open mind and heart can and do change the world. Or one persons life.
I happen to like the smell of bleach.
I am shy as heck about meeting new people but if we don't challenge ourselves to break out
of our email boxes, then whats the point? The worst would be if I clammed up and wasn't able to be myself, let the Rose hide and not shine my weird self, the best will be that I meet good new people.
I love coming back to my kids, I deplore coming back here and he is here. The sighs and lording, the 'I am the best' - always going on. To live with someone who HAS to be right all the time, that is just too much for me.
When I met him years ago, I was so glad to be around someone with smarts. I listen to him read a tongue twister book to our daughter, she isn't listening or interested. He is seriously reading it to prove to himself and whomever is listening that he can read it.
I would never want to hold such arrogance inside myself. I feel humble every day and blessed that I went from trailer living to mostly educated and loving and mostly healed and healing. Who is this man who is turning 40?
Please let us part in peace, let God find him a place nearby so that he is always there for the children. Let us find partners who fit us and kind destinies.
Dear God, Thank you for every day, even the ones that I can't get out of bed for.
Let my soul dance with Shawn and her friends in California. Let the waves lap at my
feet so I know I am at home. Mostly, Thank you for the people who have been able to get
some food in their bellies where there was none. Let tomorrow be brighter and kinder for everyone. Let your love shine down on us all, allow us to walk in faith, to be touched and touch. Amen.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Poem in progress
Up For It
Stranger danger, leaping out from nowhere
Non pulsed, non alarmed, observational
Where is this being from?
Why are his socks black and shoes black?
Fancy man or is it easier to match black on black?
I kept looking and I stopped
Looking for something did nothing for me
Instead I read and went to college and got smarter
These days, I don't need anyone. Even you.
I wrote you a letter and laughed.
Its not callousness that drives me.
Its my purpose, my purpose of self.
To be more succinct its putting away childish toys.
Of rock star wishes, of a man who meant so much.
So everything. So deep. So kind. So ideal. So eager.
There I was, younger. Now I am open, wide open.
Full throttle. Chasing after what I want.
Personal Success. Its personal like pain.
Personal success is mine.
I raised one kid and one child is being raised.
We all raise each other if we sing loudly in the car.
The games we play round and round. Hide and seek
and write on a box. Thats my life. Thats part of my success.
To be more scar tissue then tissue, which is stronger.
Soon a surgeon will cut through some scar tissue to make me better.
Lets see how that goes. I will emerge down but make my way back up.
I heal quick, I force myself through the pain. Pain is my companion.
Maybe thats what I don't require a man? Always there, always patient.
This is my boyfriend pain, he is great, in bed.
The ocean whispers in my ear when I fall asleep. She waits patiently.
For my turn, to be on the waves and float in. To be inside her glorious
womb. Counting fishes, oohing in my scuba suit. Grateful and humbled
in her presence. Prayers to the divine. Prayers for us all.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Are you happy if no, change
I am at home and the house is almost warm. 4816.00 for a new furnace. I can't find a ticket to LA for less then 400.00 I can't afford it and the 14 day window for purchasing is on Friday.
My daughter cried when she saw me looking at plane tickets.
As I go about my day, I keep it positive, even when fish water is splashing on the left side of my body, I tend to make up musical type songs.
For all the times B. wasn't there, I wasn't there for someone, someone wasn't there for me, parents, repair men, etc.
'Thank you for not being there. For me. Thank you for not being around. Its made me
strong-er each and every time, you were not there for MEEEE.'
I love Prince. When itunes comes up with one of his songs 'Forever In My Life'. Sign O' The Times is probably my favorite album.
Child is in the bath. Constant chatter going on. Example, her mermaid toy can stay on land for one hour and a minute.
Glad to connect with my therapist tomorrow. Hands are shaking more then not these days.
One of the places my writing is featured had a grand opening in London. Isn't that fabulous? My words are someplace awesome.
The dogs are always happy when they come back inside. As if they are unsure whether warmth exists anymore.
Does it?
Sunday, January 24, 2010
I am learning, learning.
The house is cursed. I can't prove it or disprove it. I know the former owners children had lots of problems and there were locks on the outside of the doors. What does that mean? I don't know. The butcher table in the basement.
I dunno where that came from. After the fire I had someone come in and bless the house. When she hit her tuning fork it reverberated like something from heaven.
I am ashamed that I will be going to California and my children will not. It shames me to not have the funds to take them. The furnace costs 5,000 and thats about it for us. I need the sun like water right now. I need a break from being no.3 - I don't know how to care for myself. I need to learn to cook meals for 1. I could live happily on fish and vegetables. Mix it up with salad and plenty of cold water.
I love water. I really love the way it feels to drink it.
I drank two beers tonight. I never drink, I am not a drinker. Socially, I can drink but by myself playing Scrabble online?
I find myself in a condundrum with a friend. 6 months out of the Army, medical discharge. Back in with the high school crowd, every night is drinking night. It has begun to effect our friendship. I text to him positive words. Remind him that he can make whatever changes he wants. That we are all masters of our own destiny. He doesn't show up to chat. He disappears. He is probably a alcoholic. He is letting me down but more importantly himself down.
It was soothing to connect with a gentleman. It is too bad that his illness deprives him of good people. I feel sadness for him and for me.
My friend told me to run. And thats what I am doing. More like ambling.
He reminds me of Hank Williams Sr. I listened to Tori Amos 'Crucify' as I waited for him. I am thick or I just assume that people will do what they say they will do. Thats how people are in my life.
I am a born helper. I remember getting my ass beat when I tried to wipe the water off the clock radio I spilled on. I cared for my brother and sister when I was 8 years old.
I see people and I recognize the possibility. I have told myself and others 'No more fixer uppers!' When you are a nurturer and a empath you gotta get your fucking shields up. You need someone who can carry their pack and yours if your knee goes gimp.
We have this one life and then heaven. Then maybe another life. We should celebrate with much gratitude that we get to wake up every morning. That most of our problems are first world problems.
I remind myself of this constantly. I have to, I sit in the tub and I look at my belly and my brain cries at all I haven't done.
I am learning.
I dunno where that came from. After the fire I had someone come in and bless the house. When she hit her tuning fork it reverberated like something from heaven.
I am ashamed that I will be going to California and my children will not. It shames me to not have the funds to take them. The furnace costs 5,000 and thats about it for us. I need the sun like water right now. I need a break from being no.3 - I don't know how to care for myself. I need to learn to cook meals for 1. I could live happily on fish and vegetables. Mix it up with salad and plenty of cold water.
I love water. I really love the way it feels to drink it.
I drank two beers tonight. I never drink, I am not a drinker. Socially, I can drink but by myself playing Scrabble online?
I find myself in a condundrum with a friend. 6 months out of the Army, medical discharge. Back in with the high school crowd, every night is drinking night. It has begun to effect our friendship. I text to him positive words. Remind him that he can make whatever changes he wants. That we are all masters of our own destiny. He doesn't show up to chat. He disappears. He is probably a alcoholic. He is letting me down but more importantly himself down.
It was soothing to connect with a gentleman. It is too bad that his illness deprives him of good people. I feel sadness for him and for me.
My friend told me to run. And thats what I am doing. More like ambling.
He reminds me of Hank Williams Sr. I listened to Tori Amos 'Crucify' as I waited for him. I am thick or I just assume that people will do what they say they will do. Thats how people are in my life.
I am a born helper. I remember getting my ass beat when I tried to wipe the water off the clock radio I spilled on. I cared for my brother and sister when I was 8 years old.
I see people and I recognize the possibility. I have told myself and others 'No more fixer uppers!' When you are a nurturer and a empath you gotta get your fucking shields up. You need someone who can carry their pack and yours if your knee goes gimp.
We have this one life and then heaven. Then maybe another life. We should celebrate with much gratitude that we get to wake up every morning. That most of our problems are first world problems.
I remind myself of this constantly. I have to, I sit in the tub and I look at my belly and my brain cries at all I haven't done.
I am learning.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Words from a cold girl
1600 square foot is luxurious.
I live first world problems.
My feet hurt, I am getting a revision surgery so I can vomit.
My son is in Hell, MI. Its freezing there, so beware.
The headaches are still there.
Detox tea, peppermint tea, lemon.
Working out in spite of the upheaval.
My life can be picked up in two suitcases and a laptop bag.
Oh and a purse.
Signed Cats Cradle, photo albums, clothes, buddha and gargoyle statues.
I will leave my gardens for another gardener.
Start anew, because we gotta do what seems impossible.
But first, a trip to Beverly, Hills that is.
I am looking for my bathing suit and cursing my belly.
I am not sure which fruit I resemble but the bulk is stomach based.
Spanx and dresses will go with me, 900 spf, sunhat.
My family is non nuclear, I get paid to stay at home with my kids.
A little deal we made when we were so young. I make good money to be honest.
I have no complains except that I require more money. First world problems.
I forgave B. for his anger. I am learning to forgive. That said, my therapist
documented it for me.
We are all a little lost and some of us are alot broken.
I find the need to curl up with another feral animal and we can
lick our wounds. Share warmth and stories. Whispers. Darkness whispers.
I refuse to accept the mediocore. I am glad to have the surgery and lose
this weight. I see myself in mirrors and who I am - well they are two different things.
Such a tiny thing I was, now my hips are the hips of someone who has born children.
Its mostly genetics. The grandmother I am named after looked like a linebacker. She died on a train on her way home from Arizona.
So these are just some thoughts that gallop and trot around my head.
Body issues and how to raise a confident child. My child is fragile and I was always a fighter and loner.
She isn't cuddly like our son. How dare I compare the two. So different.
Universe, I see all these wonderful blessings in my life and I am grateful. My bedroom is warm even if the rest of the house is ice cold.
Soon my friend and I will be soaking up the rays of California. We must live each day with gratitude and love.
Note to self: Cortisone shots for knee and shoulder, schedule surgery for early March so I can spend my birthday healing up.
Note to self: Leave house to write. Too many distractions here.
Be good to myself. I know I can do more, I know there are places I fit. A life of service is what I ask for myself. Life to live, love to give.
Love.
I live first world problems.
My feet hurt, I am getting a revision surgery so I can vomit.
My son is in Hell, MI. Its freezing there, so beware.
The headaches are still there.
Detox tea, peppermint tea, lemon.
Working out in spite of the upheaval.
My life can be picked up in two suitcases and a laptop bag.
Oh and a purse.
Signed Cats Cradle, photo albums, clothes, buddha and gargoyle statues.
I will leave my gardens for another gardener.
Start anew, because we gotta do what seems impossible.
But first, a trip to Beverly, Hills that is.
I am looking for my bathing suit and cursing my belly.
I am not sure which fruit I resemble but the bulk is stomach based.
Spanx and dresses will go with me, 900 spf, sunhat.
My family is non nuclear, I get paid to stay at home with my kids.
A little deal we made when we were so young. I make good money to be honest.
I have no complains except that I require more money. First world problems.
I forgave B. for his anger. I am learning to forgive. That said, my therapist
documented it for me.
We are all a little lost and some of us are alot broken.
I find the need to curl up with another feral animal and we can
lick our wounds. Share warmth and stories. Whispers. Darkness whispers.
I refuse to accept the mediocore. I am glad to have the surgery and lose
this weight. I see myself in mirrors and who I am - well they are two different things.
Such a tiny thing I was, now my hips are the hips of someone who has born children.
Its mostly genetics. The grandmother I am named after looked like a linebacker. She died on a train on her way home from Arizona.
So these are just some thoughts that gallop and trot around my head.
Body issues and how to raise a confident child. My child is fragile and I was always a fighter and loner.
She isn't cuddly like our son. How dare I compare the two. So different.
Universe, I see all these wonderful blessings in my life and I am grateful. My bedroom is warm even if the rest of the house is ice cold.
Soon my friend and I will be soaking up the rays of California. We must live each day with gratitude and love.
Note to self: Cortisone shots for knee and shoulder, schedule surgery for early March so I can spend my birthday healing up.
Note to self: Leave house to write. Too many distractions here.
Be good to myself. I know I can do more, I know there are places I fit. A life of service is what I ask for myself. Life to live, love to give.
Love.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Red
Foreign room
Few miles from home
And you cursed at this precious
Curly haired girl
And I thought kill
Saw red.
Instead I said out.
You apologized to her.
I closed my eyes to you.
Out of the pack, you are thrown.
No longer under the umbrella
Of my understanding and love.
There is something primal in this rage.
So great and without relent.
It grows over 9 months plus.
Cut open and thrust to the world.
She is mine and I am hers.
Always.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Teenage Ass Monkey
I try not to yell at him, he is selfish, self serving and a slacker. He wants a menial job so he can sit around and play the guitar and watch The Office re-runs.
This is not the child I bore. This is not the young man with purpose.
He has a friend over and they are screaming and jumping around, riling up the dogs who had surgery yesterday.
He cannot even clean out the cat box.
If I ask him about his homework he says he has 2 hours in school to do it. Or, if he wants to get out of something, he says he has lots of homework. Which really means talking on the phone to girls and playing on facebook or xbox or wii or whatever else he has, ps3.
There are many good things about my son. Currently however, I cannot stand to look at his face. He leaves all the hardwork up to us and slacks through life.
He has no sense of purpose. He cares for no one. He will sit there and watch us work.
If my dog tears out her stitches it will not be a good thing. Our vet is 20 minutes away and I will have to hold her and her guts and drive 100 mph.
Driving fast is no problem, the problem is that this is easily avoided.
I was in charge of my brother and sister, I had chores to do, I had a purpose, to get the hell out of my house.
He wouldn't even go with me to get the dogs, one of the dogs he claims is his. The dog is in its crate right now because she keeps hurting herself by jumping around.
The depression is back, my own personal canker sore. I sat in front of the windows in the livingroom and soaked up the sun. I took vitamins, iron included, I ate smoked trout, I need to workout tonight.
I hate my stomach, but probably not more then my arse. I don't know what happened to my body, my life.
I gotta stay steady, there is so much shit to do.
B. accidentally dyed all my clothes grey, even my favorite sundress that makes me look especially cute. He left the door open all day, so when we got back from the airport it was open. The screen door was shut. WTF.
A new shirt, you read the tags 'hand wash only' 'dip dye'. You separate that out.
He has nothing but 'Im sorry.'
I have nothing but, 'send me back to Texas or California, or to sleep, I can't cope here, the cold is everywhere, there is no pause from the relentless cold.'
More school starts Feb. 15th, I have a vacation of sorts to plan. Work, home, self.
I am grateful that my dogs got through surgery.
I am grateful that my daughter got through her day at school, even though her father dressed her in a sleeveless dress.
I am grateful that I am alive though I feel half dead.
I am grateful that I can take a bath with a lovely scented LUSH bath bomb.
I am grateful because I lived another day.
I am grateful that the youngsters we send packages to are living it up around the world. Making pyramids with their cheap beer cans. Being youngsters.
I am grateful that the loneliness was kept at bay for a few days.
I am grateful that Spring will be here and I will be outside in my sun hat and purple crocs gardening.
I am grateful that I don't have to live in Michigan forever.
I am grateful for friendships new and old.
I am grateful to God for all the good that is going to Haiti.
This is not the child I bore. This is not the young man with purpose.
He has a friend over and they are screaming and jumping around, riling up the dogs who had surgery yesterday.
He cannot even clean out the cat box.
If I ask him about his homework he says he has 2 hours in school to do it. Or, if he wants to get out of something, he says he has lots of homework. Which really means talking on the phone to girls and playing on facebook or xbox or wii or whatever else he has, ps3.
There are many good things about my son. Currently however, I cannot stand to look at his face. He leaves all the hardwork up to us and slacks through life.
He has no sense of purpose. He cares for no one. He will sit there and watch us work.
If my dog tears out her stitches it will not be a good thing. Our vet is 20 minutes away and I will have to hold her and her guts and drive 100 mph.
Driving fast is no problem, the problem is that this is easily avoided.
I was in charge of my brother and sister, I had chores to do, I had a purpose, to get the hell out of my house.
He wouldn't even go with me to get the dogs, one of the dogs he claims is his. The dog is in its crate right now because she keeps hurting herself by jumping around.
The depression is back, my own personal canker sore. I sat in front of the windows in the livingroom and soaked up the sun. I took vitamins, iron included, I ate smoked trout, I need to workout tonight.
I hate my stomach, but probably not more then my arse. I don't know what happened to my body, my life.
I gotta stay steady, there is so much shit to do.
B. accidentally dyed all my clothes grey, even my favorite sundress that makes me look especially cute. He left the door open all day, so when we got back from the airport it was open. The screen door was shut. WTF.
A new shirt, you read the tags 'hand wash only' 'dip dye'. You separate that out.
He has nothing but 'Im sorry.'
I have nothing but, 'send me back to Texas or California, or to sleep, I can't cope here, the cold is everywhere, there is no pause from the relentless cold.'
More school starts Feb. 15th, I have a vacation of sorts to plan. Work, home, self.
I am grateful that my dogs got through surgery.
I am grateful that my daughter got through her day at school, even though her father dressed her in a sleeveless dress.
I am grateful that I am alive though I feel half dead.
I am grateful that I can take a bath with a lovely scented LUSH bath bomb.
I am grateful because I lived another day.
I am grateful that the youngsters we send packages to are living it up around the world. Making pyramids with their cheap beer cans. Being youngsters.
I am grateful that the loneliness was kept at bay for a few days.
I am grateful that Spring will be here and I will be outside in my sun hat and purple crocs gardening.
I am grateful that I don't have to live in Michigan forever.
I am grateful for friendships new and old.
I am grateful to God for all the good that is going to Haiti.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Environmental Factors
Once I hit Texas my depression became less and less. As the days wore on and the sunshine permeated the pain and my longtime friendship nourished, nurtured and fed my belly lovely protein, I became myself again.
I asked B. to get a gas/co detector. It stays at 33/50 in my room. I believe that I have been getting poisoned, the stuff in 'natural' gas isn't so natural. Methane being one of its components. We have a gas leak and are on a list to get it fixed. The neighbors have a gas leak. Its a leaky neighborhood.
I need to embark on a detox and be sure to leave the house daily, I lost weight in the past month, which serves me.
Goals: Detox and get a trainer.
I have been a suffering flower the past month, in my journal, I rate the depression. Going back over my writing I am floored by how high it gets and how low I have felt.
Right now I am overwhelmed and scurrying about and exhausted, so almost even keel for me.
Need to fire psychiatrist and acquire new one.
Reading 'The Outlander'. J. gave it to me when I got there, after I got sucked in, it came to be known that she gave it to me to help me through this phase. Its such a touching thing, I am getting teary just thinking about it. She is not prone to sentimentality and her amazing gift of this book says so many things. She knows me, she knows how to reach me, she loves me and etc etc etc.
Going to find out if I got approved yet for surgery. Have/had food poisoning, drank the water in Texas and it is so weird to not be able to purge. Vomiting has its place. Just like depression, it tells you something isn't right.
Am I the canary in the coal mine? Does listening to Ziggy Stardust on repeat for a long time make me odder?
This and other questions answered and vice versa on the next episode of Rose and the SAD and the joyful.
I asked B. to get a gas/co detector. It stays at 33/50 in my room. I believe that I have been getting poisoned, the stuff in 'natural' gas isn't so natural. Methane being one of its components. We have a gas leak and are on a list to get it fixed. The neighbors have a gas leak. Its a leaky neighborhood.
I need to embark on a detox and be sure to leave the house daily, I lost weight in the past month, which serves me.
Goals: Detox and get a trainer.
I have been a suffering flower the past month, in my journal, I rate the depression. Going back over my writing I am floored by how high it gets and how low I have felt.
Right now I am overwhelmed and scurrying about and exhausted, so almost even keel for me.
Need to fire psychiatrist and acquire new one.
Reading 'The Outlander'. J. gave it to me when I got there, after I got sucked in, it came to be known that she gave it to me to help me through this phase. Its such a touching thing, I am getting teary just thinking about it. She is not prone to sentimentality and her amazing gift of this book says so many things. She knows me, she knows how to reach me, she loves me and etc etc etc.
Going to find out if I got approved yet for surgery. Have/had food poisoning, drank the water in Texas and it is so weird to not be able to purge. Vomiting has its place. Just like depression, it tells you something isn't right.
Am I the canary in the coal mine? Does listening to Ziggy Stardust on repeat for a long time make me odder?
This and other questions answered and vice versa on the next episode of Rose and the SAD and the joyful.
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