The Happiest of all Holidays

We are on our way to Ohio~my niece is getting married! We are leaving the warmth of our Florida home to go to the warmth of many bro/sis homes. I bitch and moan about the cold, but I really never feel like it is Christmas until my nose is frozen and running and my fingers are numb and I see lights through snow.I get to see my Grandma, who is 88 and starting chemo on Tuesday~please God, I know you have been waiting to bring this angel home for a long time~she is an amazing woman~but can't we have her for a while longer?
So, we are packing up the little Cobalt and heading North. We are safe, warm, happy, not totally broke, growing, learning, living, loving...How could life be better...only if you are the same! May God bless you and keep you~just like He does me everyday~and have a great Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy You Day...JUST BE HAPPY! Life is too short for sadness, grief, sorrow, aggravation, abuse, misery, anger, resentment~bring on the JOY!!!

A Single Tear

So it was the end of a really long day. I just wanted to go home and be annoyed by only two children instead of several hundred. As I was walking out the door, I noticed him sitting on the bench.
"Didn't your mom come yet?"
"No."
He is a handsome child, just 7. But you can tell he has been there, done that and will carry the heaviness of it for the rest of his life. Sweet-natured in spite of it all, loving, bright.
After much discussion and several phones calls to several non-working phone numbers, we decide it is very late-past dinner time by now- and the police have to be called.
I sat down next to him on the bench and pulled his slight frame over next to me. As I put my arm around him, the weight of what was coming next caused his head to drop and his shoulders to slump.
"Now, no one is in trouble, mom is probably just working late, but since we can't drive you home, we have to call the police."
He drew a deep breath and a single tear slid down his face and dropped on to my hand. It sent a ripple of anger, frustration, and fear through me-how could anybody hurt this amazing child beside me?
He never said a word. He put his head up, straightened his shoulders, gathered his stuff and went to stand by the door. When the police woman came to get him, he turned, gave me a small smile and waved the lollipop I had given him as a good bye. A second ripple shook me from head to toe~deep admiration for the little warrior as he walked out the door.

100 Things...

Stole this from Tammi's World

Thought I'd reveal a little of my self to y'all~it seems I live life pretty well where I am.  But all the traveling ones...those are my life's dreams.  Every single place listed is someplace I would like to visit.

What's even better~the stuff I have done not on this list ;)

Things I've Done - bolded.

1. Started your own blog

2. Slept under the stars

3. Played in a band-played with a boy in band..oh, not the same 

4. Visited Hawaii

5. Watched a meteor shower - I love them-I lay in the backyard and watch

6. Given more than you can afford to charity

7. Been to Disneyland-Disney World, not Disneyland

8. Climbed a mountain-only the ones in KY

9. Held a praying mantis 

10. Sang a solo 

11. Bungee jumped -used to want to but I'm too old now :)

12. Visited Paris

13. Watched a lightning storm at sea -

14. Taught yourself an art from scratch - lots

15. Adopted a child

16. Had food poisoning

17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty

18. Grown your own vegetables

19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France

20. Slept on an overnight train

21. Had a pillow fight

22. Hitch hiked

23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill - well, yeah

24. Built a snow fort - 

25. Held a lamb - 

26. Gone skinny dipping-half count?

27. Run a Marathon

28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice

29. Seen a total eclipse

30. Watched a sunrise or sunset 

31. Hit a home run

32. Been on a cruise

33. Seen Niagara Falls in person

34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors -

35. Seen an Amish community - 

36. Taught yourself a new language

37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied - .

38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person - 

39. Gone rock climbing - not in this lifetime...I like living!

40. Seen Michelangelos David

41. Sung karaoke - 

42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt

43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant

44. Visited Africa

45. Walked on a beach by moonlight -LOVE IT

46. Been transported in an ambulance

47. Had your portrait painted

48. Gone deep sea fishing

49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person

50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris

51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling - 

52. Kissed in the rain-another thing I love

53. Played in the mud 

54. Gone to a drive-in theater-oh the stories I could tell...snicker, snicker

55. Been in a movie - does it count if I dated the cousin of the guy who gets beat up in Porky's?

56. Visited the Great Wall of China

57. Started a business - for a week!

58. Taken a martial arts class.

59. Visited Russia

60. Served at a soup kitchen

61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies 

62. Gone whale watching

63. Got flowers for no reason

64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma 

65. Gone sky diving -wanted to, got too old..blah, blah...

66. Visited a Nazi concentration camp-this one really speaks to my ehart and I want to someday-for my children.

67. Bounced a check -today, no...but there's always tomorrow

68. Flown in a helicopter

69. Saved a favorite childhood toy - still have it 

70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial

71. Eaten caviar 

72. Pieced a quilt

73. Stood in Times Square

74. Toured the Everglades

75. Been fired from a job 

76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London

77. Broken a bone -stupid, stupid

78. Been on a speeding motorcycle -oh yeah...Jeff, how are you:)

79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person 

80. Published a book

81. Visited the Vatican

82. Bought a brand new car

83. Walked in Jerusalem

84. Had your picture in the newspaper

85. Read the entire Bible .

86. Visited the White House

87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating 

88. Had chickenpox

89. Saved someone's life

90. Sat on a jury

91. Met someone famous

92. Joined a book club

93. Lost a loved one

94. Had a baby

95. Seen the Alamo in person

96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake

97. Been involved in a law suit

98. Owned a cell phone - 

99. Been stung by a bee

100. Read an entire book in one day

It was only a dream...

I have written about the way that I dream. Very Vividly, I can direct a dream like a movie. But I had one the other night that was so real...I want to keep having it...I want to finish it...but I can't bring it back.

In my dream I was working. I don't really know where, just at a job. And there was a man. Tall, my age, nicely built , dressed in a pair of "work slacks" and a dress shirt. Tie loose, sleeves rolled up. Nice disposition, smelled good, clean cut. But here's the real bitch of it all...I never saw his face.

So I go along having the dream. Just working, hanging out with people, getting to know "the guy". Here's where it gets strange. At one point, I get a phone call. "The guy" leans across my desk to answer the phone because caller ID says it is my ex and he wants to yank his chain for me. As I reach across to stop him, I duck under his arm and put my hand on his back...and I felt him. Not dream felt, actually touched him-put my hand on a real back, touched a real shirt and felt it in my whole body. It was like a shock. I woke up then and all I could think was "I have to go back to sleep. I have to find this man!" It was love at first touch-in a dream. But try as I might, I can't seem to have the same dream and I can't conjure him up again.

As I write this, I feel a little grief stricken. Like I have lost something. But I never had it~he isn't real, I don't know who he is~I never saw his face. It is one of the strangest experiences I have ever had. But I tell you~I would know this man if I met him. I have touched him~and been touched by him in a way I don't understand. How can you mourn the loss of something you never had? But I do. I want this...feeling...to be resolved. So tonight,I sleep, perchance to dream. To maybe meet and touch the someone out there who is on the other side of that dream. Who is waiting for the woman who touched him to find him~in the daylight~with eyes wide open.

Holy Sh** is right!

Guess what???
16 is DRIVING~has a license and a car and a job! OMG!! I am freaking right out!
She is a great kid, but still. How is she 16? She was a baby yesterday...they don't traditionally give car keys to an infant, do they?
When I called her dad (even tho he knew all about this, he gave her the car for crying out loud!), he paused and then said "Holy Sh**". When I asked him if he got that little heart flip thing, he said yes and I could tell he was a little verklempt. It was Fab!
So, I have a kid behind the wheel-watch out world, here she comes :)

ENOUGH ALREADY

The election is over. Barack Hussein (look-I wrote it down and Homeland Security didn't take me away-yet) Obama WON IT. Let's all get over it now. Let's act like Americans and get it together---what am I thinking? Americans work together?? Why the tirade for the normally mild mannered LibraryGirl???? I'll tell you why...
I am a Born Again Christian Democrat-yeah, I know...weird, huh. I have never been embarrassed or ashamed to be a Born Again Christian Democrat. I try not to talk politics/religion/baseball/college football because I can get a little, well, passionate, about what I believe in. So while I have never been ashamed to be a Born Again Christian Democrat, today I was a little ashamed to be American and ashamed to be human.
I walked into the middle of yet another talk about how this "man" is not only going to ruin this country, but is also the Anti-Christ and will probably-and should probably be- assassinated shortly. **Profanity ALERT** ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????? Why would we wish such tragedy on not only our country, but on a man who is a husband and father to two young children? Are white Americans really so shallow and insecure as to believe that a man of color cannot run this country? That only Old White guys are qualified? Well, I have news for ya'll-the white dudes ain't doing so well right about now. The Old White Guys have pretty much run the whole ship aground and then sat and looked at each other and began to scream HELP-THROW MONEY while the rest of us put on our big girl panties and began to swim.


President Elect Obama is not going to turn this country into a terrorist haven full of turban wearing Satan worshipers requiring we all turn East to pray five times a day. We will not be over run by watermelon and fried chicken-the man was raised in Jakarta and Hawaii for crying out loud, people-it will be Padang Food Nasi Ikan and Spam. We will not turn into a Socialist state, though at this juncture in our history, I could be convinced to be a Socialist. Because soon, I too could be waiting at the Welfare office with the presidents of banks and mortgage companies asking for a bailout. I could have no health insurance, no job, no home. You see, I am one of the one-paycheck-from-homeless people you hear about..even though I have a job in Public Education, it is not secure -it has been threatened several times this year alone. I have rent, a car payment, two teenagers, and the basics to worry about. I have no credit cards-don't pay retail for anything-don't vacation-work two jobs and as many of the off school and summer vacation days as I can. I still bounce checks some months because my ends don't meet in the middle and even with health insurance I can't see a family doctor or dentist or eye doctor. I rob Peter to pay Paul and then mug Paul so Peter won't have my kneecaps broken.


So forgive me for rejecting the old and welcoming the new. Forgive me for not wishing death on the new President. Forgive me for being a born again Christian Democrat Working American Human. On second thought, don't forgive me. Just do me a favor. While you are exercising your Constitutionally guaranteed right to free speech, stop wishing harm to a man whose only "crime" is that he is was elected by a MAJORITY of voters to be President of the United States. When I pray tonight-and I do every night-I will pray my regular prayer of protection for my family, friends, enemies, country, and world. I will throw a special one up for President Elect Obama. I will pray that he be protected from the very people he will spend the next four years trying to help. And I will pray that God protect us from ourselves.

Procrastination

Wanna feel stupid? Try this
Where's the gap in your knowledge?
Seriously, I know a lot of stuff, but clearly not enough. Like how to get back to WRITING THE NOVEL.

Good Night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite...

Personality test

I took a test on 41q. Here is my personality profile...

Your personality type:

Enthusiastic, idealistic and creative. Able to do almost anything that interests them. Great people skills. Need to live life in accordance with their inner values. Excited by new ideas, but bored with details. Open-minded and flexible, with a broad range of interests and abilities.

Careers that could fit you includes:

Actors, journalists, writers, musicians, painters, consultants, psychologists, psychiatrists, entrepreneurs, teachers, counselors, politicians, diplomats, television reporters, marketers, scientists, sales representatives, artists, clergy, public relations, social scientists, social workers.

well, yeah....

It Happened...Oh So Sweet 16

15 is now 16
Daddy bought her a car
One Life begins
and another ends....

For one of us
the Road is Long
For the other
getting shorter everyday

Thanks for being the best traveling companion a Mom ever had!

Happy Birthday Pearl Monster
Be Safe Be Happy Be You
Love Mom, Maxiwelly Moo Moo and Fat Dog

Totally Full and Yet Half Empty

Tonite 14 and I were working the volleyball concession stand at 15's High School game. I have been able to send him to private school (the right move for him~his sister has NO interest in his school) and people from his middle school kept coming by to say hi. He hasn't seen these kids in 2 years, but they remember him fondly and were genuinely glad to see him. I am just so constantly amazed with the blessing that are my children. They are intelligent, attractive, really good people and I love them in ways I never really knew you could love someone.


So...as we were working and chatting, 14 asked if I ever reflected back on when they were younger. Of course, I said, we talk about stuff we have done all the time. No, he wanted to know if memories just sort of snuck up. If he only knew...

I can remember every moment of each birth, even though I had an needle in my back and morphine in my veins. I have the smell and feel of those little bodies imbedded in my senses. I can still feel the tug on my breast as they drew life from me the way I drew life from them. I feel the recliner under my back as I held both of them in the middle of the night and we ended up sleeping in the chair because it is impossible to get up with a 15 month old and a newborn. I lament every hour of sleep I lost as a newborn 14 slept in hour long spurts and we sat in the laundry room while the washing machine ran and I sang "I Can't Help Falling in Love With You" for the 10,000,000 time and meant it every single time. My heart breaks again as I think about 15 having to have blood drawn when she was 3 months old (it was just a cold!) and I could hear her screaming and I looked around the corner. She looked me square in the eye and I could hear her say "How can you let them do this to me?" and I had no answer and they wouldn't let me hold her. I have held them through a broken collarbone, jaw, arm, fingers, a couple of head wounds, bloody lips, a busted eardrum and a million scrapped knees, elbows, noses, bruises from baseballs, bikes, and one really good punch to mouth that knocked out 15's first tooth. I have cried at everyone of those emergency room visits, physical exams, and each and every shot they ever had.

I have screamed, whooped and cheered at 100's of musicals, baseball~basketball~volleyball~lacrosse games, band performances, tennis matches and gymnastic meets. I thought my heart would burst when I saw 14 hit his first pitched ball at 22 months, and 15 take the field for the first time in full gear to play lacrosse on the same team as the boys. Years of travel baseball and volleyball league have spent my time, yet filled my photo album with amazing pictures of healthy young bodies engaged in sports that built their stamina and characters.

I have hoarded these memories and more like a squirrel in the winter or a miser with his gold, for you see, as full as my glass is right now (oh and trust me, my life is VERY FULL right now) I know there is a small hole in the bottom of the glass. Their time with me is dribbling out and I can't locate the hole and patch it up. Every time I think about it, I feel the hole getting bigger. And that is really hard because I think every single day about them leaving me. I watch them teach each other now, instead of me. 14 helps 15 with Geometry and Algebra and she gave up her Sunday evening to read The Odyssey out loud to him and make sure he understands it for his test~both without being asked! They turn to each other for advice instead of me. Soon 15 will be 16 and begin the thing that will ultimately give her the ability to leave me~DRIVING! They will go to college, get married, make me a grandma and make me proud.


But tonight, when I tucked them in and kissed them goodnight, I leaned over and yes~ for just a tiny moment~a memory snuck up on me. I felt little hands and wet kisses and snuggley jammies and heard Good Night Moon and smelled Johnson's Baby Shampoo. I pulled favorite blankies up and placed well worn sleeping friends and turned on night lights. And I grabbed that split second and shoved it in the glass and hoped that this would be the one that plugged the hole up.

I feel ya, girlfriend!

Just call me by my gansta name...

DIZZEE BLING
Diz would be OK, too...but only if we are tight

Sometimes I go by my DJ name
FUNK-MIXER WIZZ

and when times are bad and I gotta score a few bucks, I work as a clown
Pogo Helium Cracker

Back when I was the lead singer/triangle player/scarf wrangler for the bluegrass~punk~orchestral~interpretive dance group KAMIKAZE LOVE SOCIETY, I was known as 'Barters with Hand' of the Scrappawank Tribe ~I was also getting back to my Native American roots (yes, I have one Native American ancestor and it was the 70's)

Of course, due to irrational bouts of stage fright, I could only sing after a few rounds of

Screwed Lunatic

1 oz Blackberry Liqueur

1/2 oz Triple Sec

1 oz Mello Yello

Serve in a Margarita/coupette glass. Add a lime wedge

Now that I am older, I do what most middle aged people do~I bought a Hog and I ride with my brothers and sisters The Handlesburg Banana Seat Eagles. Give us wide berth when we are cruising through your town~Ignore the Tommy Hilfiger Biker gear-we are tough~we can sue you, correct your grammar and give you a face lift all while doing your taxes. Them Hells Angels ain't got nothing on us!

well, it's late. I am going to take the little pill my doctor gave me and catch some zzzzs between trips to the bathroom and getting up to turn down the AC. I need to rest up for the matinee at the dog track tomorrow. Really, tho, the meds don't seem to be working. I haven't noticed any real change. What do you think....should I get a second opinion?

Flingify

(for Gassoflabasia )

Potential side effects: gas, hot flashes, and gambling.

Name Pistol
Generator Land

Brothers and sisters

I am the oldest of 4 kids (2 girls, 2 boys, in that order)~less than 5 years separates us all. We love each other like crazy, but we fought each other as strongly as we loved. We would sometimes draw sides for fights. "OK, today its you and me against him and her...and...go!" And I am talking fist fights here, not just screaming and yelling. But we also had a strict Do Not Touch My Sibling policy where other people are concerned. One time, my youngest brother got the snot kicked out of him by 4 guys (with a wiffle ball bat-broke his nose-long story). My next to youngest brother went back to the party and single-handedly whupped all 4 of them, because how dare they touch his brother (he was the only one allowed to kick his ass). We are still like that today~in theory cuz I ain't fist fighting no one~I am too damned old~I might break a hip!

I tell all that because I am watching the dynamic between 14 and 15. 15 has tortured 14 since the day of his birth. She to this day cannot walk past him with out a slap, pinch, poke or tickle. He has always been the passive one in the relationship. He ignores her or screams at her or runs to Mom or Dad, or retaliates in some form but never to her level. She has been informed that one day soon, he will give her what she deserves for all the years of torment and I won't stop him. I can say that because I truly believe he will never hit her. He is a kind soul, while she is Vlad the Impaler reincarnated. Despite it all they are very close and protective. I can't imagine them not being close for their entire lives.

15 is very cute and very well endowed. It is a family trait :). She has a very quick wit and has no problem taking care of herself. Today at the pool, 15 went off the high dive and 2 "dudes" in line behind 14 go "Man, that girl has enormous tits". 14 turned around, poked one on the shoulder and said "Dude, that is my sister." All ready to go if it came to that. Now, 14 is not tall and has a baby face but he is already the size of a lineman for a Division II football team. The guys instantly apologized.

I saw the look on his face as he told the story. He was HOT UNDER THE COLLAR. I have no doubt that if those guys had smarted off to him, blood would have been let. If 15 had heard them, she would have taken care of it herself. But it is good to know that she has a brother to protect her~even if she doesn't want to be protected!

Gold in the Street

I have this very frequently recurring dream. I am always finding gold in the streets. Not coins, or bars, but lost jewelry. Single earrings, broken chains, charms with no necklaces. I have never been able to figure it out. Obviously I am searching, I once thought it was about money, but I keep finding small things of value people over look because it is broken or lost....


Broken
Lost
Discarded

Always finding the small insignificant things
Alone they are nothing
Together they hold value

Boo-Boo
Tears
Bruises

A story told
A child rescued
Never to be beaten again

Co worker
Compliment
Warmth

A lonely person
A connection made
Life is to be lived after all

Look
Smile
Conversation

Who needs the Internet?
A few words, plans made
A heart begins to unfold

Recognition
Respect
Love

Want it~Need it
Always searching for it
Look inside~it's already there

weekend wordsmith

Regrets....

A friend of mine is out of town visiting another friend. In a tequila fueled text messaging exchange (I will spare you the crab infested bartender who can't count as well other non PG rated stuff :) , this came up: Regret sucks! While I had to agree, I also started to think about whether I had any regrets. I do try to live my life so I don't have any regrets. I have made mistakes~who hasn't? But regrets...I decided I had very many should haves/should have nots~but only one regret.

Should have:
~always sent holiday cards
~called my Grandma more often just to talk
~kept in better contact with my siblings
~never gained all this weight
~never lost touch with my high school friends
~always changed the oil every 3000 miles ( and rotated the tires)
~bought a house
~never have ruined my credit
~been dating years ago when someone might have been remotely interested
~told someone about the man next door
~borrowed a lot less money from my parents
~finished my Bachelor Degree as soon as I finished my Associates
~been finished with my Master's Degree
~saved money for my kid's college
~not given up so easily (money wise) when Ex left


All of these things are just moments in my life I screwed up. I still have the time to fix most of them, and I can live with the ones I can't. They are not regrets. I will not think about a single one of them on the day I die...

My one regret ~the one that will forever hurt me, that causes the tears I try never to cry any more to fall right now and the one I can never fix~
I have never shared the same last name as my children.

Don't Touch

weekendwordsmith


She reached out. Then pulled back. Over and over. Never quite touching.
But never quite Not touching

Like the warning "It's Hot~It will burn" never quite got to her heart.

Oh, her brain heard, her soul heard, even her friends heard

But not her stupid heart. It just kept hearing "Go ahead, touch. Maybe it will be different this time. How bad can it hurt? "

Well,the answer to that question is "BADLY" And guess what...it hurts more every time you touch. As much as her heart wanted it to hurt less each time, it only hurt more. Despite the scar tissue from repeated burning, it just hurt more.

So, is it lesson finally learned? Or will she fall for the touch one more time?

Just for Giggles

So, I put the Feedjit thing on my sidebar to see where both of my loyal readers are coming from. Turns out most are coming from Google because they search some combination of hot, boys and speedos. The reason is this. Is it wrong that I find this misdirection f'ing hysterical? I am getting my rocks off about interupting the one handed touch typing of freaks and pedophiles all over the world. So tonight, if you come here looking for hot boys in little speedos, penis in hand, fired up, ready to go...you only get me, a short round middle aged librarian in jammies older than her children. So sorry, dude, put it away and pay for a porn site like most pervs...Unless the middle aged librarian in 15 year old jammies thing does it for you, then contact me and we can chat~slowly~cause I know you are only used to typing with the one hand...

Calmed by the winds

I have kind of a sixth sense about rain and storms. Not like a trick knee or an arthritic hip (not yet anyway) or anything, just a general knowledge of what is coming and how close it is going to be. My Grandpa told me once you can tell if rain is a comin' when the leaves on the trees show their underside. I still look to the treees when the wind picks up. I remember a house I lived in when I was 5 that had a giant picture window and I would sit on the back of the coach and watch it rain. This was in "tornado country" but I was never afraid. And despite living in "Hurricane/Lightening Country" now, I am still calmed, not agitated, by storms. Even during the last Big One, when my house was breathing like a living part of the storm, I had to sit in my window and watch. It was awe inspiring.


The rumble starts long before I hear it
Low below my consciousness
I can feel the calm approaching

The serenity of a thunderstorm
Powerful gathering clouds
Strong wind blown rain

The heart of Mother Nature
beating from her breast to my roof
Like a child held in her mother's arms

Settling me into her peace
I nap wrapped in her safety
while she nurses the Earth

Like her other children
I awake refreshed after nourishment
Stronger for all she has given me

Point of View

weekend wordsmith












Striped scarf lady:
I always knew you would end up just like your father.

Hoodie Girl:
I hope the bus gets here soon. I am so breaking up with him on my blog tonight!

Red Jacket Guy:
Dude, the only person who EVER looked cool doing the Hand Jive on the floor was Kenickie. For God's sake, get up!!


Bald Guy:
I hope this posts to YouTube OK. The kitten under blanket is killing my rating.

Man on Ground:
Swallowed my Tic Tac....Must not go toward the light...

No, Seriously, the House was Haunted

sundayscribblings.blogspot.com

I grew up in a haunted house. REALLY. I mean it. Spooky, creepy, weird things happened there the entire time I lived there and beyond. When we first moved in, a man's voice (no men living there at the time) came from behind my Mom in the dark basement and said "Get out." When she turned the light on, no one there. Mom heard a crying girl child often, and it was never one of us. Things moved and disappeared all the time. Once, when I was alone in the house and was waiting for my Dad to pick me up, I was sitting in the living room. As I watched, all the pictures in the room began to watch me. Eyes moved, smiles became (for lack of a better word) satanical. The frames began to move across the table they were sitting on. It makes my pulse quicken even 30 years later. By the time my Dad got there, I was hysterical. The night my aunt died, all the clocks in the house stopped at the time of her death. Some day I will get my brother to tell about his experience one night (as an adult living in the house) with the black cat and the man in the black hat...

But the most "haunted" part of the house was the upstairs bedroom shared by me and my sister. "Someone" walked up and down the stairs at all hours of the day and night. The door to the stairwell opened and closed constantly all on its own. Lights turned off and on, voices called, things disappeared and turned up there....all kinds of creepy, scary but really harmless stuff from the "other side".

I lived in the house from ages 10-19, then moved to Florida. The phenomena still occurred after I left and even upon my return for visits. One day, maybe 5 years or so after I had left, the Ghost and I had a showdown. I had never really felt threatened in the house as a child, but as an adult, the bedroom became more sinister. My parents had renovated the room, moving closets and such, and I had a feeling Ghost was not amused~but I seemed to be the only one to notice. I was OK during the day, or to be up there to watch TV after dark, but it got to the point that I would sleep in the basement or my brother's old bed because I could feel the classic "something's under the bed" creepies. One afternoon, as I sat alone in the house reading the paper in the kitchen, the door began to open. I pretended to ignore it, just watching out of the corner of my eye. It closed a little hard. Opened further, stayed open for a minute or so, then slowly creaked closed. Someone wanted my attention and this went on for several minutes. Finally I closed the paper, turned to the door and said, "Do you want to discuss this?" The door opened wide and stayed opened. "Fine. I have been dealing with you for a while now and I am kind of over it. I don't like being scared, and I don't think you have ever meant us any harm, but lately you are a little creepy. So I have decided I am not going to be afraid of you." The door moved a little, like it was making up its mind. Then it slammed hard enough to rattle the windows. I jumped, but kept my cool, opened the paper and started to read again, but still watching. The door opened wide. It stayed that way for several minutes, then slowly, quietly, it closed. "Thank you, my friend.", I said. I never saw the door open again.

Before you go all skeptic on me, I will tell you that the door latched firmly. It moved all times of the year, so it can't be blamed on the furnace and we didn't have central air. It happened with windows opened and windows closed. It happened with old crank out casement windows and brand new tight fitting storm windows. It happened day and night. So, believe what you want, but I know, for a fact, that my house was haunted.

A little girl time

14 has gone to the Keys this weekend to fish with a friend ~sending him to private school is paying off in free trips this summer :) 15 and I spent a pleasant afternoon shopping and then decided to go to Cracker Barrel for dinner. We had such a great time! First, dinner was free thank to my friend K who sent me a gift cert for helping her open her new library. So I got to have one of my favs~COUNTRY HAM!!!!! I can eat country ham until my lips pucker from the salt and my head is spinning from my elevated blood pressure. After dinner we had to buy lots of old time candy. 15 made my night by finding ZOTZ only the best candy EVER! After much laughing and acting stupid-you know, the usual-we pay up and go out to the car. We are splitting the candy~a rock candy swizzle stick for each of us, 5 hard candy sticks each, all the Zotz for me, and 15 keeps the whole bag of Cow Tails to herself! I told her I felt violated by the double cross. She laughs and says, "Yea, it's like when a real jerky guy is really good looking. You still want him cause he's hot, but you feel violated by his jerkiness." How did that girl get so smart?

Weeds

At first, I see only the bad
Chickweed in the collards, if you will
But then I look closely
and see a bit of beauty still

In the midst of all the turmoil
the ugly, the useless, the weeds
a little spark of something peeks
reminding me of the fertile seeds

So I hike up my thoughts and kneel down
pulling from our ground all those nasty things
starting over, smoothing our dirt
preparing our bed for Spring

When all the anger and hurt are bygones
the new life has room to grow
Stronger, better, protected from the Winter
Able to withstand the inevitable cold and snow

A List to get the fingers limber

1. My new favorite~Van Morrison. "Into the Mystic" is genius!
2. Secret celebrity crushes: Jeff Goldblum, Lenny Kravitz, Corbin Bleu and Mark McGuire (OK, that one is not a secret among my friends...)
3. I need to live near the water. Even if I don't go to the beach enough, just knowing I can get there in 15 minutes calms my Pisces soul.
4. If I could be any movie character ever, I would be Annie from Bull Durham. She taught, wrote, had deep thoughts, lived for baseball and ultimately got the guy who understood her better than she understood herself~and loved her all the more for it.
5. I cherish my adult friendships more than those of my youth. I have manged to assemble the best group of people in my life. We don't spend a lot of time stroking each others egos, we really don't spend a lot of time in each others presence, but all I have to do is pick up a phone or drop an e-mail and it is like no time has passed at all. These people are awesome and I try to remember to let them know it as often as possible.
6. I love slang and cussing, but when I get really angry, I use all these really big words. My kids are used to it, but the 5 year old and the limited English kids at my school look at me like I am crazy..."what is this woman saying? Is she mad or is she even talking to me? She's nuts!"
7. I am addicted to a computer game called "Rebound Infinity" I spend hours shooting a little ball at spinning things.
8. 14 and I play the Ohio State Fight Song (Buckeye Battle Cry) to get fired up for stuff.
Well, enough psychological insight for tonight. Rico is waiting (the little green guy in my game, not a hot guy...dang, my life sucks!)

The power of words

Well, I gonna try again! I could lie and tell you I have been busy or nothing good happened or I had nothing to say, but the truth is I let someone I barely know take the wind out of my "writing sails". A person I had a brief moment with simply said that my writing had changed since I started using some of the prompt sites to jump start my writing. I was horrified! I took that to mean in a bad way and just stopped!!! I never bothered to ask if it was good, bad or indifferent~my totally lack of confidence in my ability took that as a total rejection and I crawled under a rock and licked my wounds (can I manage one more cliche) then I decided to put on my big girl panties (YES I can!!) and go back to it. I will never know what he meant, but I know I have to write so I am going to give it another shot. Some stuff will be real life, some observations, some fiction, but all of it will be me~and that's all I can do.

A Guy's First Love by 14

14 had to write a Shakespearean sonnet. Man, did he do a great job!!

Green grass becomes the focus of my heart

Orange dirt grinding into my cleats

White straight lines make the field a work of art

Yellow sun freckles any skin it meets

Food and baseball make a double feature

Inhale the smell of popcorn and leather

Family settles into the bleacher

Fans to the end no matter the weather

Calm on the outside my pulse races swift

My passion can just barely be contained

A pop fly to first, the catch is a gift

Delight surges from my body unrestrained

My heart pounds every time I touch a glove

Baseball is my all Baseball is my love

Daddy's Girl

http://threewordwednesday.wordpress.com/touching, visible, stage


She stood in the middle of the stage
Touching the edge of her tutu
Visible tremor in her lower lip
Looking for her Daddy

She stopped at the sign
Touching the brake pedal
Visible panic in her eyes
Looking at her Daddy

She walked across the stage
Touching her new diploma
Visible sign of relief on her face
Looking for her future

She danced with her new husband
Touching her Daddy's heart
Visible tear in his eye
Looking at his girl

She smiled from the hospital bed
Touching the tiny fingers
Visible smile shared with her Daddy
Looking at herself

A firebird, an x-rated movie theatre and Rocky Horror

http://threewordwednesday.wordpress.com/ funny, remember, theater

"So let's go!"
"Seriously?"
"Yes! These guys may never ask again, ya know!"
"OK, I'm Game!"
Do you remember the Firebird? I do. We were so very cool. Even among the "rich kids" at our school, we had the best car-thanks to your mom and GM. We did so many things in that car...Remember. Every Friday night football game pre-party, the Buns Strip Club with only male dancers (wait, we were in the 'Vette then), the Spring Break trip to Florida when the luggage wouldn't fit so we emptied the clothes in the trunk, packed 4 teenage girls and a big brother in the car with a half gallon of Jack Daniels, cranked the 8 track with Van Halen, Rolling Stones and Christopher Cross and drove all night. Getting pulled over ~underage and stocked for New Years Eve~ throwing it all out the window only to be lectured by the clueless cop about not having your lights on at dusk. It was all so FUNNY! But my favorite memory of that car had to be the first time we went to see "The Rocky Horror Picture Show"
Remember how we followed Ed and Kevin and Billy down to the X-rated movie theater and we were passing the beer back and forth between the cars going 45 miles an hour down the road. We went into the theater with all the stuff...toilet paper and toast and cards and water...and we thought we were so cool. Remember how the floor was sticky and the show hadn't even started yet...EEEWWWWWW!!! All the posters in the lobby for the films that were showing and we're trying to be mature but they were so funny with the semi naked women and the stupid movie names. Then we laughed till we cried at all the freaks dressed up like...what?? Who knew. Then the lights went down and the show came on and we had the best time! A bunch of 17 year old girls at an X-rated movie theater with really cute older guys doing "The Time Warp"! Transexuals and sticky floors and wet clothes and cute guys and a new Firebird-what more could a girl have wanted in 1979? Remember?

What do you mean, she's never read Jane Austen?

Thanks again to weekend wordsmith

"She's never read any Jane Austen?"

"NONE! Not Pride and Prejudice even"

"But she's such a pseudo-romantic~well, she loves those sleazy romance novels, you know the ones with hot men and heaving bosoms on the covers. Aren't they sort of a lower class Jane Austen?"

"Yeah and all those rolling Irish/English countryside novels...the really thick ones with lots of characters and at least one rich-grumpy yet loving dowager matriarch."

"And her movies... You've got Mail and Sleepless in Seattle and Two Weeks Notice and Notting Hill. "I'm also just a girl standing in front of a boy asking him to love her." Gross."

"BUT she's a middle aged, going gray, round, eye-glass wearing, still single librarian for God's sake! Don't they have to read Jane Austen to be allowed to check out books?"

"I know, but I'm telling you~she's never read Jane Austen!"

Sticks and Stones, B**ch!

**Thanks to Weekend Wordsmith
"Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me" How many times had she heard Mama remind her of that little bit of playground wisdom? How many times had she spoken or thought those words? Plenty! Growing up poor, smart, wearing glasses ...she had been called lots of things. But she never let them bother her. She had lots of self esteem and knew exactly who she was and where she was going. Until the day when she was 11 and the slimy dad next door noticed she had boobs. Then the world turned upside down and nothing was the same. She was still confident on the outside, still smart, but she began to doubt herself just a little bit. Withdrew just a little bit. Stop trying so hard just a little bit. Not so much as anyone would notice~but she knew. When she hit her teens, she began to notice that the kinds of boys who were drawn to her were the "dangerous" ones. She really deep down preferred the neat, tidy chess club~math club~debate team boys but the only ones who bothered were the "stoners". So to satisfy that little missing piece she now had, she glommed onto every tattooed, wanna-be biker within a stone's throw of the place and put up with the shit. The digs, the slurs. "Damn your hair is nappy-you sure you ain't part black?" from the skinhead. "You cain't tell me you forgot cigarettes again, you stupid bitch." from the carny guy who ran the merry-go-round at the park. This pattern continued through college, where frat boys were her self destructive weapon of choice. When one of them would start a drunken tirade, she would just think, "Sticks and Stones, Sticks and Stones" just like Mama taught her.

When she married, she thought she had found the mythological "Mr. Right". He was the "math geek" of her dreams. He was not hunky, but he was brilliant! He had invented some piece of medical equipment and it gave him the money to follow his passions. He gave her a great life. They had rich friends, a nice home, fun vacations. They talked about the past and how her own deficiencies had caused her to choose poorly and wasn't it great he had found her to pull her up and set her right. So he was a little uptight-after all the chaos of her younger life, the control he possessed was like being rescued from the Titanic. And for a while it was good. He designed computer games, then taught High School Math. After each experience, he would say "That's not really me. I need to do something else. I need to find "the THING". She completely understood~he was her "thing" and she had searched for him just as diligently as he searched for his passion. So she stroked and petted and let him moan and complain because she understood. Then one day he threw the vase because she had let the flowers wilt in it. A few weeks later, he kicked the cat when it got in his way. Followed days later by the punch to the wall that just missed her head. She tried to help, but he just called her "Bitch" or "Dumb ass" and she chanted "sticks and stones sticks and stones" in her head like a mantra.

Then the day came. She knew it was coming, but she couldn't get out of her own way. She just braced for it. He had left yet another job that "made him fell dead inside". She had figured out that yelling and throwing and name calling made him feel alive~stirred his juices~made him feel passion. So she let him and then cried as she cleaned his messes and tried to forget the mean things he said. But this day...he hit her. It was the first time, but she didn't feel as shocked as she should have. He needed a release and the usual stuff wasn't working. She stood there thinking, "Well, at least I saw it coming." Then he did it. The one thing she had always said she would never put up with~the line she would not allow to be crossed~the one word she could not chant out of her head. He screamed "CUNT" in her face as he drew back to hit her one more time.

It was automatic. She dropped into the kick boxing stance her personal trainer had taught her and let it fly. She took every bad decision, every nasty name, every degrading feeling and that hit that hurt more than her face and put it into a kick to the groin, followed by a punch to the nose. As he crumpled to the ground, he was not stunned by the physical assault. What made him lay still and pray it was over was the look on her face as she leaned close and whispered,
"Sticks and stones, bitch, sticks and stones."

Go. Explore. Tell me all about it.

** with help from weekend wordsmith
For as long as she could remember, she wanted to leave. Just go. Wander the world, see the sights. Climb mountains, traverse rivers, frolic with sun kissed brown skinned boys on beaches in the moonlight, see as much as she could as far away from home as she could get... But getting pregnant at 19 meant the world took on a different meaning. Instead of vast deserts and endless prairies, she got vast piles of diapers and endless nights with a crying baby. But she loved that baby so! It was worth giving up her dreams. As her daughter grew, she decided that if she couldn't see the world, her baby girl would. They spent hours with books from the library, long before Baby Girl could even read, looking at pictures. She would read the passages, tell her all about places like the Australian Outback, the Himalayan Mountains, the endless blue depths of the Pacific Ocean. Baby Girl absorbed every word as they lay in bed together at night. She was the only kid in the Kindergarten class that knew that Hawaii's Mount Waialeale is the wettest place in the world or Angel Falls in Venezuela is the world's highest waterfall. She and her mother plotted and planned and saved for the day she could go and explore the world for them both. When ever she asked why, her mother always just said: ASK NOT WHAT YOUR MOTHER CAN DO FOR YOU. ASK WHAT YOU CAN DO FOR YOUR MOTHER and what you can do for me is go and see it all and then tell me about it.
So when the day came, Baby Girl did just that. And it was so much more than what she expected! When letters and snapshots sent to her mother could no longer convey what she saw and felt, she began to write books and take the most amazing photos. When publishers and magazines began to showcase her work, no one was prouder than her mother. Anytime a reporter asked why she did what she did, she replied, "So my Mom can see the world." As her fame expanded, it was harder and harder to get back to her mom. When Baby Girl called and expressed her regret at not coming home, she only ever said, "You are doing just what I asked. Go. Explore and tell me all about it.".
Baby Girl was in the middle of an ocean, shooting the most staggering beautiful school of fish when the message reached her. "Come Home" was all it said. Her mother had never asked her to come home before. All she ever said was "Go. Explore. Tell me all about it." Baby Girl went.
Her mom was in the one place she never expected to see her~the hospital. Apparently she had been sick for months, but had never let on. The guilt was overwhelming, but when she stepped in the room, her mother's eyes opened and she said, "Tell me about where you were". So Baby Girl crawled in bed with her mother like she had done a million times growing up but this time she was the storyteller. She began to describe the blue of the sky, the depth of the water, the brilliance of the fish. Her mother closed her eyes and just when Baby Girl thought she was asleep, she whispered, "You know, I was always there with you. I could taste the salt of the water, or the rush of wind on a mountain, or the heat from the desert, I was always there. You always did just what I asked. You took me with you. I need you to do what I ask one more time." She then began to tell her own story, of the cancer that had spread and could no longer be contained and would take her life shortly. As she began to lay out her plan to end the pain, Baby Girl shook her head in disbelief.
"Mom, No!".
"Yes.", her mother insisted. "Remember, ASK NOT WHAT YOUR MOTHER CAN DO FOR YOU. ASK WHAT YOU CAN DO FOR YOUR MOTHER. You have always done exactly what I asked. You have been my greatest gift and the best traveling companion that a woman could ever have. Please help me take this final trip."
After all the crying, begging and discussion would not sway her mother's quiet determination that this was what she wanted, Baby Girl took the horde of pain pills from her mother's hiding place and poured a glass of water. She crawled back in bed and fed them to her, one at a time. As the pain began to subside and peace came into the room, Baby Girl held her mother and whispered, "Go. Explore, Tell me all about it."

Six Word Memoir

weekendwordsmith has this challenge based on Not Quite What I Was Planning by Larry Smith
Write a six word memoir. Simple, right...Not so much, to quote a friend...so, ok, here goes...
1. wishing~hoping~dreaming~ praying~scheming~planning (my apologies to Dusty Springfield)
2. Mom, woman, librarian~yep, that's me!
3. Too much TV, not enough sex (that one belongs to my friend T, who would never post it herself!)
4. Had it, lost it, found it.
5. Living the 75/25 rule daily. (are the numbers words???)
6. Great kids. Great job. Great Life.
Wow, they do sort of flow after a while. What are your six?????

Diet Coke with Lime

*from a seed planted by Weekend Wordsmith

Another Saturday Night at home. Alone. But it was OK. She had already been to dinner and a movie with friends and was just trying to push her brain into going to sleep. Sometimes Diet Coke-fueled insomnia was beat by reading, sometimes TV, even computer games. Tonight sleep inducing choice was a puzzle. She had just finished one with cows and green fields and a red barn and was staring at the puzzle piece left in her hand. "What the Hell?" she thought. The puzzle was complete ~finished~whole. Where did this piece of clear, cloudless blue sky come from?
Suddenly, the annoying sound of the IM on her computer broke into her musing. She ignored it and turned back to the puzzle. The computer refused to be ignored and "dinged" her again. She looked at it and did not recognize the name. Damn, she wished she had not signed up for that stupid online dating service. And even dumber, she had put her IM in her profile when she was all gung-ho about meeting someone. Just as she was about to close it out, a third message popped up.
Do you work on the fifth floor of the Hudson Building?
Who is this?
I was just looking on line at this dating service and I thought I recognized you.
CRAP!!!! she thought
WHO IS THIS!! Do I know you?
We have never met, but I work in the building sometimes.
Do you work for Marchall and Harvey?
No, I just noticed you. I have often walked by and listened to sound of your laughter when you are with your friends and thought about stopping, but I never had the nerve.
Ok, this guy is a freak....and a stalker
Listen...I don't know who you are..I'm out.
Wait!! don't sign off. Can I bring you coffee Monday and I'll just introduce myself. I'm a normal guy, I promise. I'll wear a blue tie so you'll know me.
Could this be any cornier? It was like a bad chick flick
OK, but I don't coffee, I Diet Coke with Lime :)
See you then.
Sleep was out of the question that night and the next. She had called a girl lunch and dissected this situation back~forward~up~down and her friends all agreed they had to find out who this crazy man was! She kept insisting she didn't care~she had two great kids, a job she loved, good friends~she had a full happy life! Why add an freaky, creepy unneeded piece to her puzzle? But in the end she acquiesced and even let her friends talk her into a new blouse for Monday.
She got to work and started in on the pile of work and tried her best to not think about the coffee guy. Her friends kept stopping by all morning to "help"her.
There's a guy on 3 with a blue tie.
The boss had on a blue tie today.
Old Mrs. Miller has on a blue scarf.
"GROSS!!! GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!! "
By the afternoon, nothing had happened. No guy with blue tie had stopped by, no coffee had appeared on her desk. She had had enough and was calling it quits. First she was going to stop by the break room and get her daily Diet Coke for the ride home.
She had her head down and was digging for change when she bumped into someone in the doorway. It was the soda machine guy. He was lifting a case of Diet Coke with one hand and had a lime in the other. Looped around his neck was a blue tie. The exact same shade of blue as the leftover puzzle piece from Saturday night . He smiled. Just a normal guy...
Two months later she was up late working on another puzzle. This time she did not work alone and every one of the sky blue pieces fit.

The Illegible Manifesto

She found the letters while cleaning out the garage the other day and they had to make her smile. She remembered writing every one! They had gotten her through those long nights of hysteria and insomnia and wanting and hoping and wishing for him to come back. She had given him some~she couldn't talk to him then, so when he came to pick up the kids she would just hand one to him, watch him ignore it, toss it on the seat beside him. She would then go in and cry~both for the kids leaving and his tossing aside both her and the letter.
As she opened the first one, it hit her like a wave. They were obviously the diatribes of a lost soul~someone she didn't know and didn't remember being. They were long and rambling~rants, mostly, against him, his mistress, herself. They would be crazy with threats and blame and cussing, then turn to misty thoughts of past love and begging for a future if only he would come back to her then back to how glad she was he was gone. There was one written to her mother, her grandmother about putting up with the men in their lives and how she now totally understood. And the handwriting~she didn't recognize it~it seemed illegible to her. It couldn't be hers, could it? When the writing was sane, it was neat and tidy, angry was scrawled, love was loopy and girlish~little hearts even dotted the "i". She didn't even have to read the words to know the emotion behind them. As she slid to the floor with them in her hand, she began to understand how she survived those first few months after the betrayal. She had become schizophrenic. By day, she was together and a mom and a survivor. By night~and sometimes all night~ she would let out the angry bitch and the scared little girl and the woman who wanted to be loved and each would write in their own journal~in their own voice, their own handwriting. An illegible manifesto, written to her, from her. A guidebook about how to overcome and move on~but to never forget. None of those women could have survived on their own, on the surface. But each had a voice that needed and deserved to be heard.
She smiled through the tears as she put the letters back. When she needed them, they would be there~still illegible, still a manifesto to herself, from her old friends. The hysterical laughter of the schizophrenic didn't start until she remembered the ones she gave to him. He had told her he read them and kept them in case he ever had to use them against her. No wonder he afraid of her back then. No wonder he was still a little cautious around her to this day~he never knew when those crazy bitches in the illegible letters would come back! And that was just how she liked it!

Romance

It was a long day, in the middle of a long week. She needed something~anything~to see her through. She decided she needed romancing. Knowing this wouldn't happen without a little nudging, a little direction, she set the stage. Candles in her favorite tropical scents, lit and placed strategically around the bathroom. Big fluffy towels, deliciously soft bathrobes hung on the hook. As she ran the womb-warm water in the tub built for two, she poured in a generous measure of the bath oils her darling had bought her last Valentine's Day~his favorite scent for her, both in and out of the tub. Quietly, so no one would wake up and burst her self-indulgent bubble, she slid in to the arms of the silky, scented water and sighed...Heavenly. She closed her eyes and gave into the multitude of sensations~all of her senses relaxed but alive. The smells, the lighting, the touch of warm water, bubbles, oil on her skin..she began to feel the anticipation build. She slid a rough loofah over her arms, legs, shoulders, then finally over her breasts, shivered. As the water cooled and the bubbles burst, she prepared for her partner in romance to join her. This was the moment she had waited for~the moment she really needed. She stood up, the bathwater running off her body and reaching for the shower massager, washed away both the glimmer of the oil and her need. As she stepped out of the bath, she dried off with the luxe towel, slid on a satin nighty and slipped into the embrace of the robe. She had been romanced and she was happy. In a cloud of the balmy scent of the oil, she padded into the bedroom and slid under the covers, knowing the aroma of his favorite scent would wake her husband and he would give her what she really needed to get through~love.

13 turns 14

Today, 13 became 14. He had a friend over today and they played 9000 hours of video games. I didn't even get the usual basketball breaks~14 blew his knee out on Saturday and we have to make a visit to the pediatric orthopedic surgeon tomorrow~so I couldn't even send them out of the house! 14 straight days of Call of Duty 79 and NBA 2K pain in my ass and Madden will it never end. Mix in listening to them call each other "Gay" and "Faggot" all day with a generous helping of punching, nipple twisting and ball kicking, eating, talking about boobs and it was a boy's dream day! They were driving me right around the bend, so I decided to annoy them as much as they annoyed me. I broke out a bunch of old country music a friend gave me and played it really loud and sang! It didn't work~they wouldn't even move to14's room, they HAD to have the big screen TV to play X Box on~but I felt a little better when they begged me to stop! The best part of the whole day was letting 15 drive drive the friend home. I was laughing so hard ...The boys really thought they were going to die! They were screaming like little girls! 15 is not a confident driver, so there was lots of slamming on the brakes and when she turned on the windshield wipers with the turn signal, I really lost it. God, I love my kids and their friends. It is going to be really quiet in a couple of years when they don't need me to drive everywhere~I may have to pay for HBO cause my major source of entertainment will be gone!

The puzzle...

I know it is a stupid cliche, but my life is a giant puzzle. Not a jigsaw~not all cut out and flat so the pieces make a picture so everything can be seen. Not a crossword~too linear~I am the least concrete sequential person on the planet! Word Search? Hmmm~at least some of the stuff is jumbled up, some the right way, some backwards... Maybe a Rubik's cube?? I , too, have 6 areas that demand attention~Me, the Kids, Work, Friends, God, Life (house, dog, car, dating...what's dating again??). While the Universe would seem to demand order~that everything gets put all in its proper place~all the blues with blues, greens with greens~reality is that the sides are all mixed together. The Kids are in with the Job, God is in everything, Friends get all tangled up in My side. No matter how I spin it, turn it, mix it up, stare at it, get frustrated by it, it's always jumbled together. And oddly, I like it! Life is found in the mixing together of all the sides. People get too involved in the lining up of their lives to actually enjoy living! I have feeling that the day that all the colors are on the right sides, everything clean and nice and put together the way it should be, I will be done living and will have moved on to the next puzzle...

Wallowing In It & Digging Out of It

I spent today wallowing . I didn't get dressed, I ate crap~and lots of it~all day. My mom came by and all I could think was "I wish she would just go away". I actually set out like an alcoholic to eat myself into a stupor last night. I went to the store, picked out what I wanted and methodically set out to eat. Why? Things have been going so well so long that I guess there had to be downside. This is the downside. A wasted, useless, calorie filled day~I sort of saw it coming. I have been feeling the vague discontent coming on for a while. Looking at real estate websites, checking for jobs on Monster, surfing dating sites, the hard bitch sneaking back out. But none of it means anything. I cannot leave here yet, I love my job, I am trying not to be a rag~what's going on? I guess what my grandma used to say is true~people do change just before your birthday. Mine is a month away and perhaps my self reflection is bubbling to the surface. Maybe the fact that I ate my way through a small African nation's food supply and I actually feel bad about it is a good sign. The fact that I recognize a wasted day is a positive step. And best of all, I have this place to write it down. A friend called to ask me to go out, and of course, I said no. She said she could tell I was not going to go out when she asked earlier in the day and wanted to know what was wrong. I told her I am wallowing and she asked why. When I couldn't tell her, she asked if I had written . That's when it dawned on me~I hadn't and not for several days. I need to write now. The idea that I can get it all out~and not for $125 for a 45 minute hour~ may be the thing that saves me from myself. So I am going to write more~mix a little fiction into my observational stuff, a little humor into my self reflection. With the help of my words, maybe next time I won't sink as low and the trip back to the surface will be shorter...

I'm an Idiot Savant

Well, maybe just an idiot! Here's the deal...I go through life with people thinking I am smart. I have good vocabulary, I am well read. I have what I call "my superpower" People ask me to come help with a problem~the computer doesn't work, they need to find something~I stand next to them as they work it out, and then I look good. I have a small capacity for remembering weird trivia~like song lyrics, historical events, movie/book plots. Some people mistake it for intelligence. I live in fear someone will find out it is all a charade. "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain" ~~
The jig might be up with my kids tonite. Despite the fact that I have an AA and BS (how appropriate!) degrees in Business Admin and have started work on my Master's degree in Library Science, I was stymied by Algebra I tonight!! 15 comes and shows me this problem: [-(-7)] +1=......I dunno! Now, in the deepest darkest recess of my overcrowded mind, I know work from the inside out, 2 negatives make a positive...but all I can think of is "NOOOOOOOO!! Not Math!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" In high school I made it through Algebra I, Algebra II, Geometry, charmed my way to a D in Trig and Analytical Geometry and then walked away~I thought ! In college, it took 3 tries to pass Calculus I-then only because we had to work in a "group". I was in charge of sharpening the pencils! Now I have a freshman and 8th grader both taking Algebra I Honors and all my leverage as a parent is tossed out the door by [-(-7)] +1= Oh, the inhumanity!
Give me words over numbers any day! My new favorite thing is free rice.com. You play a vocabulary game and for each word you get right, 20 grains of rice are donated to feed hungry people~win-win! 50 is the highest score, I have gotten as high as 47...but I keep trying! I love words. They are at the heart of who I am~part of my identity. Nothing moves, excites, thrills like words . Words can cheer you up, push you down, make you love or hate a person~now that's power! So I will keep using big words and if that fools people into thinking I am smart, great! And as for Algebra...there is always the Internet !

Happy 2008!

Well, it is the beginning of another year. I spent a rollickin' New Year's Eve~the kids went to dad's, I ate Key Lime pie and McD's, played computer games, listened to my fav tunes, took a snooze, woke up at 11:50 and rang in the New Year! The crazies in my `hood were shooting off fireworks and God knows what else (I stay away from windows during holidays around here) so with the nap I will now be awake for hours!!! I might as well compose my list of resolutions:
1. Well...
2. I suppose...
3. I could always...
4. But maybe...
5. No...
So, there ya go! The thing is, I am remarkably content in my life. I have moments of both great happiness and insane melancholy~but it all evens out~actually tips more to great joy than crippling depression . My life is very 75/25. Yes, I could lose 100 pounds or so, exercise more, stop being a bitch to my kids, listen to my mother, pay better attention to my money, keep my house, car and office cleaner and more organized, change the oil in my car on schedule, walk the dog, write my grandma, call my brothers and sister, send birthday~Christmas~anniversary cards, stop cussing and gossiping, write more often, read the newspaper everyday, meditate, less time on Youtube and more time reading Scripture everyday, color my hair, moisturize, send the pictures of my kids I pay to have taken every year to the relatives, tithe, volunteer...but why depress myself during the first hours of the New Year!! instead, I have decided this will be my focus in 2008:
1. God
2. Myself
3. My Kids & dog
4. My Family/Friends
5. My Job
Nothing specific, just a general focus on the good, and a general dismissal of the bad. So if I end up closer to God, no matter how I get there~good for me! If my general mental and physical health get better~All Right! If my kids are wearing clean clothes this time next year~# 3 accomplished! My friends and family know me~even if I never send a card, picture or e-mail, I am ALWAYS there when they need me~and vice versa. If I am gainfully employed in the CCPS School System this time next year, I will have done good.
I have a plan...I have a good devotional a friend gave me, I am starting 2008 with Belly dancing classes , my kids, dog, family, friends and job will be dealt with as the need arises. All is well!
I wish you joy in 2008...find it, embrace it, live it :)