Welcome to my Crazy Madness...

You're Free ~

2012-01-09T09:00:00.003-05:00

Blistered from heart to hand
I've nothing left to hold over you
I'm letting it go

Strained muscles from the weight
Every whimper aches
I no longer have to saddle myself
With hurt, blame, anger, or an obligatory love

My blisters will heal
My muscles will endure

I'm okay,
I always have been

Weightless and free
I will soar above it all today
And set you free

C.

A Little Yellow Hat ~

2011-10-26T19:12:00.003-04:00

I had a little yellow hat when I was 9 years old. I hated hats. I hated yellow. I hated hats even more than I hated yellow.

I had no need for a hat, they pushed my bangs into my eyes and made me itchy. But, this hat was okay because it had a round patch on the front embroidered with "I'm the Greatest!".

When I was 9, I believed I was the greatest even before I got this hat. So, of course, it must be just for me!

I put that hat on once and was stopped 3 steps out my bedroom door, by my future step-father. Standing in front of me as if I wasn't there, he and my Mother discussed the absurdity of such a hat.

"You can't let her wear that", he said.
"It's cute!", she said.
"She can't go around being so conceited, that's ridiculous. Go take it off", he said.

I never wore that hat again nor did I ever believe that I was the greatest, or even a little bit great. I wonder who I would be if I was allowed to believe that I was the greatest all these years.

C

My Candyland World

2011-08-30T19:35:00.003-04:00

I used to be so excited, so filled with wonder at what I would see next!

Nowadays, I'm not nearly as excited, in fact, I don't want to move from this spot in my Candyland world.

I just want to rest for awhile and enjoy this space. I've been here so many times, it's almost familiar. I never stay long as I always turn over the next card, and take that chance, to see what colors I have ahead of me. Or, as luck often has it, I am sent directly back to someplace as dark and dreaded as the Molasses Swamp.

I'm not ready to take a chance, or a turn. I just want to enjoy this lovely, colorful place for just a while longer.

It's not always the moving backward that I dread, it's pulling that card and taking that chance, that may end my game. It used to be so simple, get to the finish line! But now, that has a different meaning for me. And, it's not one I find victorious at all.

How do I skip my turn??

I Forgive You...

2011-08-28T11:08:00.003-04:00

~ I forgive you for doubting that I was ever good enough.

~ I forgive you for not listening to me and just doing whatever you wanted to do.

~ I forgive you for not caring about me at least as much as you do everyone else.

~ I forgive you for allowing dark and dangerous thoughts to enter my mind.

~ I forgive you for being so destructive to my soul.

~ I forgive you for giving so much of yourself, to whomever would be accepting, that there was nothing left for me.

~ I forgive you for believing all of the hurtful things that were said to me.

~ I forgive you for keeping me silent all these years and I trust that I no longer need to be.

This is the beginning of my journey to forgiveness for you. I am hopeful that it will bring me some peace and allow me to love you as I should.

As I look into the mirror, each and every day, I will remind you of this...

I'm So Anxious ~

2011-07-31T22:08:00.002-04:00

I'm anxious to see who it will be when I uncover who I really am. I've been someone else for so long that I feel a re-introduction is in order.

Maybe it's time to have a reunion, of sorts! I think it would be absolutely amazing to see them all, all of the people that I used to be. I'll need an introduction to some that I've never met and I'll know right away those that I adore. Of course, there are always those that were never well-liked and I'll deal with them head-on this time because...why the hell not??

I'd love to see that girl that laughs out loud at anything totally random. Something as simple "1976" can get that girl going, who knew?! I hear she hasn't been seen ages.

While it's nice to avoid the drama, I never see the girl that gets frustrated over something as silly as a zit. You know the kind of zit that must be harvested the morning of that "hot date"? No, she hasn't cared about much of anything lately, especially, a hot date.

I always loved being around that daydreamer of a girl. The one who dreamt her days away. Oh, the dreams that she went on and on about, as if they were really going to come true or something! She talked of the places and the people and colors that she saw. Everything so bright and new, just waiting to be experienced! Crazy girl.

I'll embrace them all! I'll hang on to those that love me best and say good-bye to those that don't think I'm good enough.

I'm so anxious to see.

C.

I Was So Ready...

2011-07-27T23:01:00.005-04:00

I was so ready that day. That day I found you. I didn't know just how ready I was, but I was SOOOO ready!

I was ready to come alive, I was ready to laugh again. I was ready to love again and be free to do so.

Like the chains coming off of a prisoner, I felt free again. Free to just feel all of those wonderful, tingly feelings of giddiness and giggle like a school girl passing notes in class. How fun that was.

I felt reborn, rediscovered, and reclaimed! As if I was some treasure that all the others could never see and appreciate. But you did. You liked treasures. You collected treasures.

Only, I was part of a collection of your treasures, each of us getting our due attention when it met your needs. Sure, I questioned and wondered but your explanations were quite sufficient when they soared from your lips in that sweet, smooth voice of yours.

Always I wondered and always you explained. Always.

I was so ready to come alive that I jumped, free falling into my dreams of what we were supposed to be. I was so ready to laugh that I must have been hysterical in not realizing that I was the one being laughed at, and I didn't even notice. I believed you when you said you knew what it meant to be loved and to care for something so precious, encouraging me to have this enormous supply of love delivered to your door. I believed you. I believed you because I was so ready that day.

NOW, I am reborn! NOW, I know what it's like to come alive! Now, that you've exposed all that you are and who you never were, I can begin again with fresh eyes. I no longer need to be rediscovered or reclaimed, I just need to bathe in the afterbirth and be thankful you're gone. So, so gone.

C.

That Feeling...

2011-07-05T19:49:00.003-04:00

It's that irritating feeling of walking into a room and forgetting why I'm there.

Only, it's when I wake up. Every single day. Day after day, I just keep waking up and I can't remember why I'm here. A purpose, a meaning, I can't find any. I'm not inspired nor do I care to be. I just keep waking up. The minutes drag. There are so many of them in a day! So many to wait through until I can slip into some state of rest where time doesn't exist and my blank stare is welcome. In the darkness, I watch the shadows on my wall as religiously as my Grandmother watched Johnny Carson.

I figure, I'll wake up one day with some epiphany of what I'm doing here. Kinda like when I stand in that room long enough and I finally remember "Oh yeah!".

I guess I just need to keep waking up...

Lisa Williams

2010-06-16T18:30:00.002-04:00

A quote that I found perfectly written...

I'm the world's least happy atheist. I miss having religious faith, but trying to have it seems like trying to be in love with someone that you're not in love with. ~ Lisa Williams, Learning the Lessons of Nixon 3-29-08

Waiter, waiter!!

2010-05-23T19:44:00.002-04:00

Waiter, waiter!

Wow, I don’t mean to complain because I know you have a tough job as it is but seriously, THIS is NOT what I ordered. I know my friend here is doing the eye roll but pay no attention, this must be brought to someone’s attention.

No, what I ordered was...where’s that menu again…
Anyway, I believe I ordered the main course to be the family combo something or other. It came with like two happy, well-adjusted kids, a humble home filled with shared emotions, which I believe included happiness and a generous drizzling of love.

Of course, I would never expect anything to simply be handed to me on this, or any other, lovely silver platter. I worked before I walked in here and I’ll work to foot this enormous bill. But, c’mon. A little of the drizzle please?? One happy child and the other well-adjusted, would be palatable. I’m not difficult, at least I didn’t think I was.

Anyway, is there something we can do here? Please, please don’t offer to comp the bill or bring a free dessert. In many ways, I’ve already paid, and those offerings are of no value to me whatsoever. I only want what I walked in here for, that’s all.

What? You have to get a manager? We have to go there, do we? Well, give him or her a heads up that ol’ girl at table 6 here has been off her meds and this is a long time coming. Just sayin…

Oh, and no worries, your tip isn’t going to be affected. In fact, I can give you a tip on just about anything you want to ask me! So, I’ll comp you on that!

By the way, what’s on the dessert menu? Just in case…

C

Furry Felt Covered Piggy Banks...

2010-04-02T18:37:00.006-04:00

As I was packing, in preparation for my impending move, I felt almost robotic. CD's-this box, books-that box, kid stuff-over there, you get the idea. It wasn't until I went to work packing the kids' movies (I don't have any of my own, it seems), that I became interested in my task at hand.

Among other treasured home videos that I had forgotten about (and surely would never have remembered where they were in the event of a fire) I re-discovered a VHS tape that my Grandmother recorded of herself while on a business trip to Minneapolis. One of those little booths that you pay $5 for 10 minutes of recording. She didn't know what she was going to do with the tape but thought that it seemed like fun and mentioned that she may even give it as a birthday gift to a lucky someone special! I have to assume that she had already purchased the snow globe or plastic piggy bank covered in felt that she brought home each time she went away. As if my collection of felt covered piggy banks were overflowing to such an extent that I needed another to complete the rainbow of those I already had. I remember thinking they were kinda cute until I was 12 or so. After that, I just smiled with a hint of sarcasm while she told me all about the wonderful things in Minneapolis or Denver or Olympia, Washington. Intrigued and curious to visit those cities, I was NOT. I was an unappreciative teenager, staring at a felt covered animal, wearing the most recent "My Grandma went to (insert city here) and all I got was this lousy t-shirt", while she talked between shouting out the letters Vanna White needed to flip over so we could buy a vowel and solve this puzzle, already! I think that's where I learned what a "dumbass" was. At least, that's what my Grandmother called them when they couldn't figure out the puzzle and they were set to win the JACKPOT!

Anyway, knowing that this tape was made just a short time before her cancer diagnosis,I found myself laughing with tears streaming down my face. She was just silly. A silly disposition that I don't think I really appreciated until now. I found myself thinking that all day today, she was just silly!

While she was silly, she grated the last nerve of every single member of our family, near and far. She was so vain and always concerned with her looks, always. She was married just once, for 43 years, to a man she met as a teenager. When she mentioned his name in the tape she still beamed, how lucky for that. My Grandmother began her life in poverty, eating lettuce sandwiches because that's all they had, as an infant she lost her father to suicide, and suffered from her own depression so severely that shock treatment was used but remained a well kept secret. In spite of this and more, she put on a happy face and got the first job she could and became a self-made woman. She worked her way to the top of The Wall Street Journal at a time when few women were in such positions. She took care of her Mother, her children, and her grandchildren. She sent a handwritten card to everyone for every occasion. She was kind in her own selfish way but she created a life for all of us and, ultimately, grew her net worth into well over a million dollars. Almost none of that money was passed down as my Grandfather married a woman that changed all of that. But, I have every card and note that she ever wrote to me. I even have a couple of those felt piggy banks, although now they have bald splotches on them.

And, as much as she was annoying, she was sweet. Every time I walked in the house, the door always left unlocked as everyone was welcome, she greeted me with a smile. Every single time. That gave me such a sense of belonging that I haven't felt since. How wonderful that was for her to do that for me. How wonderful it was, and I don't think I ever said thank you. I wish I had. And, if I could say one last thing, I would say "Thank You". Thank you for making me feel welcome, thank you for every lecture you ever gave me, thank you for embarrassing me incessantly in front of my friends. Thank you for telling me that you loved me when I was convinced no one really did. Thank you for each and every felt covered animal you brought me. Thank you for so many things that I never realized how endearing I would find them and I miss them so incredibly.

And, thank you for creating this video that brings me to tears and laughter at the same time.

I don't know if she was ever fully aware just how wonderfully beautiful she was, from the inside out. Come to think of it, maybe I was the one that wasn't fully aware.

C.

Not Just Spending Time...

2010-03-28T19:33:00.003-04:00

I think I've always known it but never really wanted to admit it out loud or acknowledge it even to myself.

After failing repeatedly at marriage and partnership parenting, I have to admit...it wasn't them, it was me. Did I say that out loud? I doubt I'd ever admit it to them because, well, I just wouldn't.

My close friends know that all I ever really wanted was to be a parent. More than I wanted to be anything else. Of course, I would never be that girl who traps a guy into it but when the opportunity presented itself, I did become a parent. And, by default, I became a wife as well. I was excited to be embarking on this whole "family" thing I saw others doing. Only, I would do it without the crap that comes along with it, of course! If it lasted a while that was a total bonus. But, I didn't really think it would. As hard as that is to say, I didn't. But, hey, I'll give it try and see what happens, I thought. I know, I know...wrong.

Somehow it dawned on me recently that, after spending days that have accumulated into years, it really was me. Spending time with someone and being a wife was a nice security, too. But, when it became more difficult than I was willing to accept, I cut bait and moved on to the next catch.

I heard Warren Buffett, of whom I am in awe, say that success is first based on who you marry. If you don't have the right partner, nothing else will be right either. Or, something to that effect, anyway. I realize that statement was probably already thought of by everyone else but me. And, he was right on it. No matter what you do, you have to do it with someone and it should be with the "right" someone. I always wanted to just do things and didn't lend nearly as much consideration to whom it was I was doing those things with as long as my selfish needs were met.

The other day it hit me again that it's not about spending time with someone, it's about spending a lifetime with someone. Be it your best friend or your spouse. And, if you're lucky that someone will be both.

I'm going slowly but I'm getting there...

C.

Finding the Courage ~ by James Kavanaugh

2010-03-07T01:13:00.003-05:00

Finding the courage to face some buried anxiety
as real as snakes and grizzly bears in an uncharted wilderness,
struggling in vain to recall a child's overpowering fear
still rooted deeply in my flesh
and, seemingly as impermeable as granite rocks.

When was that terrifying moment
that has left its shadows till now?

What was the dagger that carved a scar
never to be erased?

Was I seven or seventeen, infant or fragile adolescent?

Vainly I recall every angry, hurtful voice of childhood,
every silent attack of parent or peer, teacher or coach.

Who wounded me when my bones were too brittle
to bear the weight?
When my mind was too timid and unformed
to fight back?

How can I battle this elusive Hydra
with its hybrid and devouring teeth?

Will I carry the last of this struggle
to my grave?

Will it reappear to torture me at the very end?

Or, will the sun finally rise some glorious morning
and the roots of an ancient fear dissolve
like the disappearing night?

From the book Laughing Down Lonely Canyons

Oh, Sarah Palin...Where Do I Begin??

2010-02-06T21:58:00.002-05:00

Sarah Palin's paid speech at the Tea Party Convention this evening clearly showed the Sarah that I've grown to love. Yes, it's out there. I've said it "I LOVE SARAH PALIN!!". So there!

I love her for reminding me that even if I sit in silence on a Friday evening without my hair done or my outfit perfectly tailored, I am reminded that my presence on this couch serves this country and makes sense in more ways than Mrs. Palin could ever muster up. And, the plus side is that I won't request a $150,000 payment to do it!

I love you Sarah! You sure are purdy!

C.

If I Knew Then, What I Know Now...

2010-01-14T22:34:00.010-05:00

Among other things, if I knew then what I know now...

~ I would've been better to myself, been less self-depricating, and embraced the best and the worst of me.

~ I would've known that no measure of self-protection could keep me safe from my own self-destruction.

~ I would've known that even if it means scraping up the pieces of my shattered life, I need each one of those pieces to be whole. And, if I move forward, leaving even a single piece behind, I'll be searching for it my whole life.

~ I would've known that, good and bad, everything counts. I will ultimately, face the consequences or the benefits immediately and directly or by way of some winding, random path.

~ I would've known to disengage from hurtful people because even the pleasure they derive from my pain will never keep them happy.

~ I would've known that nothing could possibly fill this incredibly enormous void created by the selfishness of others.

~ I would've known that contorting myself to fit into someone else's perception of who I should be would never serve me well, as I am the one burdened with this disfigured soul.

~ I would've known that each moment doesn't need to be a milestone, rather a place, of which I am ever-present.

C.

Have You Heard This One?

2010-01-10T01:42:00.002-05:00

I'm not a good joke teller but I'm going to give it a try. Here goes...

A girl walks into a relationship with a smile.

The guy says to her "What would you say if I promise that I'll always take care of us?"

The girl, still smiling, chuckles nervously and replies "Well, I'd believe you, of course!".

The guy, putting his hand on hers, slyly smiles back.

....get it?? It's a joke! The relationship ~ everything! He NEVER takes care of them like he promised, it's all a f*@*king joke!

C.

I'm Gonna Sit Here ~ by James Kavanaugh

2010-01-03T23:22:00.003-05:00

I'm gonna sit here
till passion returns
and tells me where to go.

I don't care if it's heaven
or hell or home,

I don't care if it's work
or play or sex,

I don't care if it's rich
or poor or madness,

I don't even care
if it's riding a horse naked on a freeway
or lining up like we did as kids
for a pissing contest in the old schoolyard.

I'm not going anywhere
-even to death-
until I can go passionately.

from the book Laughing Down Lonely Canyons

I Don't Know Why ~ by James Kavanaugh

2010-01-01T03:32:00.002-05:00

I don't know why it bothers me
but in the midst of the most poignant news,
of the shooting of a President or Pope,
or an earthquake in South America,

There is a commercial somewhere selling soap or cereal,
promising luxury or peace of mind,
or an end to all offensive odors,
except commercials.

And, from time to time,
when I wonder about my own demise,
I know that at the very moment of my passing,
even as the word is circulated among my friends,

I will be eulogized somewhere
by an improved tomato sauce
or whiter teeth.

~ from the book Maybe If I Loved You More

Dr. James Kavanaugh ~

2010-01-01T02:23:00.002-05:00

I am so deeply saddened over the death of James Kavanaugh, with whom I have never met face to face. Strangely, I felt a connection to him as if he just "got" me. His books have truly grounded me during some of the most tumultuous times in my life when I was completely lost and just couldn't find my way.

To explain it, well...I can't. I just appreciate his words, beyond any reasoning or explanation. And, while I am sad that the opportunity has been lost to have a conversation with him or give thanks to him personally for understanding me, if only by default in understanding himself, I am inspired to live my life out loud even when no one's listening. I am inspired to do this life with passion and, in turn, inspire others to do the same.

But, because I haven't gotten to the point that I understand what it is about myself that would inspire others, I will defer to the words of Mr. Kavanaugh and post a writing of his as often as I can so that others may get some of his insight. Well, that and his books are out of print.

Richochet

2009-12-26T03:47:00.005-05:00

I feel as if I just richochet in this labyrinth of my so-called life.

Not going forward or backward with any consistency, just hitting walls. My approach has no influence. Walking patiently or running fiercely, it doesn't matter. I richochet.

I can wave and say "Hello" to passersby or flip them off with a snarl, I still richochet.

I can be compassionate and kind or a bitch of the grandest kind, no matter.

I need some of that richochet momentum to push me forward, away from this stagnant, stale environment.

But, maybe richocheting is better than the alternative. Like when you get that pinball out of that tippy-top part of the machine and it comes straight down and through the paddles, completely passing you by. Not even a chance to get it, game over.

C.

I Feel Sad ~ by James Kavanaugh

2009-12-16T01:58:00.007-05:00

I feel sad about my country lately,
when damn near everyone I know thinks it's okay
to take money away from the disabled and the old,
As long as we increase military spending
and are certain beyond all paranoia
that we can take Russia out faster and more completely
than Russia can take us out.

My buddy Danny tells me that we're getting rid of the freeloaders
And, I know damn well he doesn't mean the rich people
who invest in feed lots they don't see or want,
or get oil and mineral and agricultural allowances
they don't need or deserve.

I confess, I've occasionally wondered about
some of the people I see with food stamps,
and I suppose I've bitched my share about welfare.
But, I do notice that the most expensive restaurants
are still crowded,
that the Mercedes are as common as VW's once were,
that Fifth Avenue and Rodeo Drive seem as active as ever,
while the aged and the poor seem shabbier and more defeated
than I've ever seen them in my lifetime,
far too intimidated and nervous even to whisper of revolution.

I feel sad about my country lately because it lost it's morals
somewhere between Korea and Watergate.
And, lost it's heart somewhere between this recession and the last.

Now strangers buy our banks and the immigrants our fast foods.
And, we take any dollar or ruble we can get
to satisfy an appetite as insatiable as the fear that creates it.
Content to build cheap barracks and call them homes,
content to widen the massive gulf between rich and poor,
content above all to defend a country
with the expensive nuclear trinkets of a paranoia
bred of greed and fear and most unmanly men.

I never knew a brave nation could be so reprehensible,
that a dollar could mean so much or a life so little...
and I'm very sad.

From the book Maybe If I Loved You More
Written by James Kavanaugh 1982
Visit www.jkavanaugh.com or become a Facebook fan of James Kavanaugh Poetry

Dear Santa:

2009-11-29T22:12:00.007-05:00

This Christmas I want a "Healing Machine". You know, one of those machines that make that horrendous noise when you insert your parking stub and, in the instant after that noise stops, your ticket is magically validated!

Now, I don't want this glorious machine for my parking stubs. Oh no, no, I want this for all of the other things that I feel need validation.

You see, it seems that I have been seeking validation, often unknowingly, all of my life. It continues to dangle in front of me like the proverbial carrot. I chase it until my exhaustion forces me to surrender. Ultimately, I become hungry, once again, for that delectable carrot. I chase it again and again, thus, the tireless pursuit ensues.

What I'm saying is that I'm tired, Santa. Not from a delightful Ambien tablet or the knowledge that I did something wonderful with my life today. I'm just plain tired.

I'm tired of reaching for the nearest scrap of cloth to cover my raw, exposed self after I've just reopened some unhealed wound to someone, or no one, without receiving the simplest validation that it is, to me it is, a wound.

Instead, I want to write it out or print it out and slide it into that miraculous machine and pull it right back out with "VALIDATED" in bright red Arial Font (or whatever typestyle you have in stock).

I have been good this year, Santa, and knowing that I'm validated whenever the situation calls for it will make me even better in the coming year. I promise!

But, if this request is too large...I would settle for a self-inking stamp!

I Just Need A Little...

2009-11-16T01:13:00.005-05:00

I don't need much, I just need a little...

I need a little inspiration today, possibly from one of these little quotes that I have scribbled on one of the bajillion (that's a lot, by the way) Post It notes that border my desk.

I need a little time to clear my head of the racing thoughts of what, when, who, where, and how the hell??

I need a little attention, whether it's given by myself or received from someone else. Somehow, my needs seem to have been lost somewhere between this grocery shopping trip and the last. I guess I should've put them on the shopping list...

I need a little understanding. Unfortunately, that would require me to fully divulge my feelings, situation, etc. so that's just not going to be happening right now.

I need a little passion. In my work, with another, for life as a whole, or all of the above.

I need a little stability. Period.

It seems as though I need much after all!

Hmmm...

2009-10-26T21:25:00.004-04:00

I'm sad today. Can't put my finger on it but I am, just the same.

Maybe it's the life I have, or the life I want, or the life I know I'll never have.

Maybe it's who's in my life, who's out of my life, or who's never going to be in my life.

Maybe it's nothing, or something, or a lot of everything.

Hmmm...

C.

Laugh, Cry, or Just Get Hysterical?

2009-09-03T15:34:00.003-04:00

Laugh, cry, or just get hysterical? I'm not sure which would make me feel the best!

I think we can all speculate on how our country has arrived at this "place". By "place" I mean circumstance, mindset, values, morals, and such divisiveness that this nation will never be as it was meant when named The "United" States.

I don't know a lot about much, but I do know a little about a few things. And, one thing I know is that there is never, EVER harm in education. You learn all of the days of your life. You learn when you want to and when you don't even know it. It's when you no longer want to that you might as well hang it up because, seriously, what's the point? It's the learning about life and people and places and ourselves that makes life tolerable and, on those lucky days, enjoyable! We don't always know how things will end up and, if we're really lucky, things won't go as planned and the opportunity will be presented to discover a new path with new surroundings that is all ours to learn about. To question and be curious is how we've gotten to this place with all the modern conveniences and luxuries. It's the child/adults that are not curious and only do by being told, that will live a very unsatisfying life.

How it has come that the parents of school-age children (and others, I'm sure) are offended, scared, or even find it "creepy" that the President of this so-called "United" States will direct a few moments of his attention, on Tuesday, to the children of this nation is so far beyond my realm of understanding that I need just one person to explain this to me. Did it not seem creepy on September 11, 2001, that as our President was told this nation was under attack, he continued reading My Pet Goat? No? Not creepy, not scary to think that he didn't react immediately? No?

We're told, as parents, that we have the option to allow our children to "opt out" of the Presidential Address to this nation. Are you serious?? I know that in the 50's there was a weekly Presidential Address heard in schools all over America via radio and you better believe those children weren't allowed to "opt out". They sat and they listened whether they liked it or not because it's that important, no matter who the President elect is. No matter if he is the one you voted for or the one you despise, it's the President of The "United" States of America and at what point do we rely on our children to get their education and make good use of it. They may not listen and they may be filled with questions (which should be openly discussed), this is a good thing, not something that should be stifled.

And, I won't even get in to how it's going to make the children feel to be removed from a classroom over their parents political beliefs!

Oh, and if anyone wants to tell me that it's because the President might mention this health care reform...then explain how kids will be able to persuade their parents to vote for such a god-awful thing. Or, is there something I don't know about and it's actually the kids that will vote on the health care reform?? Either way, I just don't get it!

C.

Maybe I'm Just Needy

2009-06-16T21:07:00.004-04:00

I don't know if it's in the upbringing or if people are just a certain way. I kind of think it parallels my OCD tendancies. I just think that things should be equal. I think if I do something a certain way then I expect to receive an equivalent in return. It could be something simple like tossing the clothes from the washer to the dryer and the next person comes along and does the same. Or, you check on me when I'm sick and I'll make sure to check on you when you're sick. Perhaps it's something trivial like I'll hand over my whole being (thoughts, emotions, chaos, all included) in exchange for a piece of you when I need it.

Now, I don't say this because I do things simply out of duty or expectation or because I have that in the back of my mind when I'm doing something. No, I do everything I do because I need to. I really need to. If I don't, I just won't be right with myself. It will consume me like a person with OCD that needs to touch the stove 5 times with the left hand and 5 times with the right at least 5 times in a row (no, no, I don't do that, silly...my number is 3).

So, I do what I do out of my own necessity. I guess I sometimes wish that I was someone else's necessity too.

C.

On Rare Occasions I'm at a Loss.

2009-06-12T01:45:00.003-04:00

It doesn't happen often, but there are times when I just don't know where to begin. I can't seem to find a single word to begin my sentence. But, I'll give it a shot.

In my trolling of online news I came across one of those stories midway down the list of nationwide news. Not a headline or even within the first handful of stories. No, this must be a "filler" story. I'll paste the link at the bottom just in case you want to see the whole thing, what there is of it.

Apparently, a 39 year old mother with depression (hey, I'm almost 39 and I have depression) decided that she'd stab her 2 year old daughter with a pair of scissors. When she was stopped by a security guard, she then tried to strangle her with an electrical cord until she was pulled off of her again. I don't know if I should say that "luckily" the little girl survived because I'm way too much of a pessimist to state that. But, the little girl did survive.

I am horrified, throat-locking-horrified, at the thought of being that two year old little girl looking into her mother's psychotic eyes, seething with a venom that none of us should ever know. I move from horrified to that pit-in-your-stomach-sadness to think that she looked at her mother and screamed in agony, as she felt such pain each and every time that pair of scissors went into her little body. What the hell? Didn't she hear her little girl screaming? I don't care if you didn't take your medicine! I don't friggin' care! Didn't it snap her out of it when she got past the first stab? No? C'mon! I just can't relate! I don't get it, and believe me I have been severely depressed over my lifetime.

But, depression isn't psychotic. Depression isn't something you take out on other people. It's something you direct inward, self-inflicting, if you will. If this is a result of depression then some revisions need to be made to medications, treatments, diagnosis, medical books, etc.

Because, and this is what I find repulsive...this woman, this "mother" has bail set at $100,000. Un-frickin'-believable! Who does this?! Who sets bail for someone so unstable and crazed that they are capable of such atrocities?

Granted, she may not have the cash, but what the hell are we doing? You cannot tell me that we can rest easier tonight knowing that this nation demonizes same-sex marriage and people actually praise George Tiller's murderer (or his profession, for that matter) and Chasity Bono's sex change is making the top of every gossip column. And, I can't even get in to the museum shooter! This, THIS is what we are made of, this wonderful nation of freedom and liberty. Puhleeze!!

I don't want to be this! I don't want to be numb to this ever! I don't want to read a story about a little girl stabbed by her mother and just move on to the next story without crying, not ever! This is not how we should be teaching our kids or anyone's kids to be. We need to be kind and caring and all we seem to grab hold of are the bars that keep us safe from everything beyond our big bay windows. Neighborhood watch as I like to call it. Well, I don't want to just sit and watch during commercial breaks. I want to live in a great big world where little girls aren't stabbed by their mother's. Where there would be no such thing as bail for anyone doing something so horrific.

I don't know where that place is but I just have to believe that we're more than this.

C.

http://www.telegram.com/article/20090611/NEWS/906110665/1101

It's All in the Details...

2009-06-09T01:21:00.003-04:00

When you wish for something make sure to include the details. Because I do believe it's all about the little things that will ultimately determine whether you'll actually want what you wish for after you get it.

For instance:

That great job, with great pay, doing what you love the most? Make sure the details specify that you don't surrender every weekend with your kids and late night conversation with your spouse.

Those adorable kids, one boy and one girl, of course? Specify in the details that they're not maniacal leeches sucking the last bit of patience and energy from your exhausted mind by way of what must certainly be invisible tentacles (that's the only reasonable explanation).

That charming husband or wife? This is where detail is imperative...enough said.

Those moments of silence that you wish for? Make sure the details include that they're rare and in times of need. Otherwise, it's just deafening and kind of sad, really.

That family and those friends that you love to death? Make sure that they love you back.

That beautiful house with a wonderful view? Absolutely make sure the details layout the days the cleaning crew will come in to take care of the path of destruction that follows your children.

That sexy car you've always wanted? The details must include that it's only yours. No teenager can incessantly pester you to drive it. Nor can they take it without permission whether you find out about it or not. It's got to be all yours.

The wonderful insurance benefits offered with low co-pays and a minimal premium? I think it goes without saying that the details must outline that it cannot be in place because you need treatment for any illness other than that which is short term and pain free. Or, if there must be pain, it must be written that you have the most excellent pharmacy coverage.

The energy of your children that you wished you had? For God's sake make sure, make sure, it's clear that you don't get that energy so late at night that you're wide awake with a mind that never stops!
But, if you do...please forward the link to your blog so that I know I'm not alone...

C.

Like A Wave...

2009-06-08T02:31:00.003-04:00

Like a wave in the ocean, only without the grace and beauty.
Without the calming effect until long after and only by default.

This feeling of hopelessness drowns me.
I can't get my footing or catch my breath.
I don't know which way is up, down, or if I want to find either one.
I'm consumed.
Consumed by something so much greater than myself.
A haunting vision that rears it's ugly head far more often than I care to acknowledge.
I know survival mode will carry me out.
To the surface where I can see...and breathe.
I'm exhausted.
So tired of holding my breath.
So tired of trying to just get a grip and stand in one place for a minute in a state of rest.
So tired of not having learned after all these years, how to ride that wave.

God damn it, why can't I figure it out!
That frustrates me.
I frustrate me!

But, after that wave has swallowed me whole and spit me back out, I am washed ashore.
I lay there, for my daily eternity, with only my eyes having the energy to move.
Possibly a calming effect by default.
Survival mode seems to zap me of my super powers to put on a happy face right now.

C.

I wanna be...

2009-06-08T00:27:00.002-04:00

I wanna be so many things. So many things, I thought I'd make a list.

I wanna be smiling when I wake up tomorrow.

I wanna be inspired by a stranger who can offer nothing but conversation.

I wanna be worth breaking plans with a best friend.

I wanna be worth a long distance phone call really, really late at night.

I wanna be the little girl chasing fireflies late into the summer evening.

I wanna be who I am, only good at it.

I wanna be happy even when I feel sad.

I wanna be so far beyond my childhood fears.

I wanna be good enough for everyone that matters, especially myself.

I wanna be able to hug my children when I need it most.

I wanna be in the presence of people that love me...all the time.

I just wanna be.

C.

Tough love is tough on who?

2009-06-01T01:25:00.005-04:00

It's so difficult to sit across from my son with a stern look and dry eyes. He's such a little boy, toying with my shoelace. Always will be, I suppose. He can barely speak he's so emotional and so in need. In need of so much he can't even wrap his brain around it all. In need of something as simple as a hug and in need of things he isn't even aware of. But, he's in need. I so badly want to make it all go away and replace it with laughter and smiles, that's what I'm in need of.

But, tough love is what I've always heard about, and believed in. You can't just love them, they'll use it as ammunition. But, it's so difficult to love someone so conditionally when you have always loved them without reservation or explanation. There's no rhyme or reason why those cute things they do make you love them even more. No one even asks why or what makes your child so endearing. It's your child, just as simple as that. To attempt to define it would be time taken from other, more important, tasks. So, why bother?

Now, I'm supposed to reserve my love for good behavior and gestures of love in exchange. This is a love that I need. For almost half my life, this is what I've gotten out of bed for. Those days before I had children and all I wanted was to stay in bed and be non-existent, that was no longer an option once I knew what was there for me. A toothless grin, a work of art created with markers (the same markers that "accidentally touched" his face), a cartoon-rehearsing-cheerio-eating-sleepy-eyed-kid. Something. Chaotic or not, it was something. In those days, it's funny how I thought permanent marker on the wall was a problem! HA! Naivity can take you much further than you could go, otherwise...

I digress.

Now I'm forced to hold back on being loving and give it out sparingly? How? How do I do that when that is the one thing that he surely needs more than anything else? How do I sit across from him with a stern look and dry eyes?

That's a tough way to love, alright.

C

Be Happy, Just Don't Be Gay...

2009-05-26T20:33:00.003-04:00

So, the next time you dream about your children and what you wish for them, I want to know what you really wish for. I want someone to tell me what it is they wish for their children to have in their lives. Is it a good job, a respectable husband/wife, adorable children free of special needs. What?

I can tell you what I've always wished for mine. Maybe out of the norm but I've never had a single vision of my children in a particular occupation. Never. I've never thought or wished that a doctor, a lawyer, or a preacher they would become. No, not even once. The only two things, and I mean the only two things I've ever wished for my children is to live up to their potential (whatever that may be) and happiness. Not drug-induced, wreckless-behavior kind of happiness. Rather, happiness that does not impose upon the happiness or well being of others. Happiness that you can see when they walk through the door for Sunday dinner. Happiness that shines through their eyes, the same eyes of that little toddler running around in footy-pajamas squealing with delight before bedtime. Happiness that they can accept because they know they're worth it and they can embrace because they have been embraced themselves during their lives. That's it. That is the only thing I've ever wished for my children. Everything else is secondary and I really don't care one way or the other about it all. If they're living paycheck to paycheck and getting their electric shut off every other month, I'd be frustrated, but if they laughed instead of cried about it, I'd know they'll be just fine. I'd even hand them the money to have it turned back on...maybe.

But, I've never said to my children during any conversation about future, past, present or hypothetical "I want you to be happy, just don't be gay". I've never suggested to my children that being gay isn't really being happy and that they would never have a real marriage, if they ever wanted one, because they say that a marriage has been defined between a man and a woman. Even though Merriam Webster's Dictionary has it defined as: (2) the state of being united to a person of the same sex in a relationship like that of a traditional marriage.

No, you'll never hear me say anything like that to my kids. I can be true to that, I assure. I find this to be the worst kind of set up for any child, or adult, for that matter. To lead your child down a path of "you can be whatever you want to be" just so long as it adheres to what is defined as right and wrong by whomever creates these definitions (probably the same as those who create street names...).

How mean spirited does one have to be to do that to their own child to the point that many suicides are the end result. Is that seriously worth it? Who cares??!! Stop trying to micro manage your kids' future and just embrace it all. This is it! That footy-pajama-wearing-squealing-toddler is the same one you look at now. Would those squeals of delight been less enjoyable had you known they would be in a same-sex relationship? You can't even tell me those footy-pajamas would look less adorable on a homosexual toddler because they're just toddlers, right? Their just little kids, right? Their just your kids right? Well, if that is your biggest worry or issue with your kids, then you've done something really right. If your child can look into their future with everything ahead of them being a challenge and say "I'm ready!", you've empowered them and made them feel like they can be anything. That is unconditional love. Stop talking about it, stop charging for it...just give it!

C

What's Good Enough?

2009-05-24T21:49:00.003-04:00

Many times I have reflected on those days where I just didn't feel good enough. I've looked into my future and wondered if I ever will be. But, today I don't really care because this life is just not good enough. Not today.

Not any particular reason. Nothing I'll be doing about it either. No, I'll just complain and revel in that for a bit until it gets just as old and tired as my unjustified complaints.

C

I'm ready!

2009-05-15T22:20:00.009-04:00

I just woke up from a dream, a previous life, whatever, but I'm awake and I'm ready for anything!

Oh yes, I'm ready for whatever this day has to offer, or throw my way.

I'm ready to look in the mirror and see the new me, if only those damn kids didn't break my glasses! I said "DON'T TOUCH"!

I'm ready to fold the laundry and put it away, once it's washed.

I'm ready to pay my bills on time, if I've got enough money in the bank.

I'm ready to be a millionaire and host charity events, ooh, is that the Publisher's Clearing House van that just passed by?!

I'm ready, I tell you, I am R-E-A-D-Y!

I'm ready to not only appreciate the beautiful sky, but define it's color, if I can find the perfect match in my son's box of Crayolas.

I'm ready to make amends, if it isn't too painful.

I'm ready to hear words of wisdom, so long as they're not completely idiotic.

I'm ready for religion, just don't make me change my beliefs.

Really, I'm ready!

I'm ready to be a stay-at-home-mom (s.a.h.m for those of us in the know...), after I wrap up the interviews of prospective applicants to rear my business.

I'm ready to be sympathetic, I just need you to stop whining first!

I'm ready to devour a wholesome, healthy salad and enjoy it in ectasy, when it's French-Silk-Pie-flavored.

Man, I'm so stoked! I just want to jump up and down and scream it for all to hear, "I'm ready for anything!". Maybe we should define anything before we go any further. But, I am ready, I can feel it!

C

Here Goes!

2009-05-13T23:29:00.005-04:00

Okay, I've been given the nudge to start a blog to puke out all this crappity crap that crowds my head so much so that my ears get all waxy. I think all that waxy crap is the irrelevant and stupid information trying to escape. Maybe that's why I find it just as gross to pick your ears as it is to pick anything else. Don't pick it!

So, in an effort to at least maintain good hygiene, here goes!

I think I should preface this by saying that this first entry may be very brief (not my norm, I assure) as I have indulged in a half tab of God's gift (the pharmaceutical God, that is...) of Ambien. Oh, how I worship those Gods as they make their magical, wonderful concoctions in those pristine white lab coats glancing at me as if they know so much more about me and my needs than I even know myself. Surely, it's just paranoia. Maybe there's a pill for that. Surely, they cannot hear the rhetorical questions that float around my brain. Questions about why they still haven't filled my order when no other customer is around and they are 3 people over-staffed. I know they're over-staffed because whenever there is time to discuss recipes at work, I'm quite certain someone needs to be sent home. Did I say that out loud? Did they hear that? Oooh, I hope not! I always think those are just the voices in my head. Hmmmm...maybe there's a pill for that.

Anywho, I do so love my pharmacy Gods. They have the capability to calm my children which, in turn, keeps them safe from harm (a.k.a. Mom). They have the ability to mix up a batch of just about anything to make anyone feel better at any given time in their life. Is there no halo that comes with that lab coat? I'm a believer, and I believe I see a halo.

I wonder...how could one ever date a pharmacy God? Would it really be his personality you were after? Doubt it. No, not the sexy lab coat either. I think once he's explained the intriguing dynamics *yawn* of how he creates a batch of something magically delicious you would have to be supportive and ask for just one teeny-tiny sample....or two. More than that requires a prescription? Wwhhhaaat???? Are you serious right now?! I mean, c'mon! It's not like I have to have a pill to retain this euphoric appearance whilst I sit through another informative conversation about you. People like that create people like me! Time to move on and leave him with that, "it's not me ~ it's YOU!" speech. You God of all things pharmaceutical!! I pray to you, I believe in you (especially when you give me that stuff) and now you treat me as if I'm some kind of needy, sinner! Makes me want to nail you to a cross and strip you of your lab coat! Ahhh....you'd think they'd take a dose themselves and stop being so damn bitchy! Oh, but I love them so! I'm torn! I don't want to mumble any negativity too loudly for fear that they'd give me that old line "we need a pre-authorization, it'll take 2-3 business days" and then I'm stuck with my unmedicated kids during Spring Break and nothing good can come of that.

No, I'll just smile as I look downward so as to avoid that blinding light from the angelic halo that floats above them like a buoy in the water.

Well, time to sign off, there are prayers to be said to those Gods who impact my life as they do!

C