VAGINA

A vagina post.  Every blog needs one...

I recently had a conversation with a girlfriend and she was telling me about how taking hormones (Estrogen, I think?) can help with depression and other premenstrual symptoms.  She explained that the best way to take the hormones is not orally, but to put them where they can do the most good.  We actually had this conversation twice.  The first conversation was over the phone.  The second was via email.  She explained how she was using Estrogen cream and applying it in her Vagina.

I don't know what came over me.  I read the email and saw the word "vagina" and got the giggles.  I was a 41 year old turned 12.  I was thinking, "did she really type the word v-a-g-i-n-a?"  Hahaha... VAGINA.  Haha... Ha. 

Yes, I completely lost it.  So I had to let her know.  I replied to her email and told her how I had a hard time noticing anything in her email besides the word "vagina".  I reverted to a pre-teen state and lost all sense of maturity...  Haha... Vagina...

The next day came around and I hadn't checked my email.  I hadn't really thought of our email conversation at all.  I was "over" my immaturity spell and was moving on.  The hormone conversation had completely left my mind and then, right about lunch time, I received a text on my phone.

I non-chalantly checked my phone and saw who the text was from so opened it right away.  There was only one word in the text message:

"VAGINA"

I started laughing so hard I damn near started rolling on the floor.  Who knew that the female body part could bring such joy to a 41 year old woman?  Wait a minute... actually, THAT didn't sound right... Hmmm....

Hey!  Psst!!   "vagina"

HAhaHAhaHAhaha...ha. :-)

What I want

I want to be free.

I want to be free from that feeling of anxiety or guilt that I get all too often.
I want to take action and move forward.
I want to face my fears head on and show them who's boss.
I want to have compassion and forgiveness for myself and others.
I want to feel acceptance of those things that are out of my control.
I want to be aware of my addictive tendencies so that they cannot control me. 
I don't want to be perfect, but I want to be perfectly me.
I want to experience the world around me and not be locked in the world that exists in my head.
I want to be an example to others of how to live freely.
I want to feel love in its purest form.
I want to take advantage of each and every day.
I want to hear my friend's stories and participate in their lives.
I want to show my children how great life can be. Every day.

I want to be free so I'm choosing it now.

Thank you - Sara Bareilles - for saying how I feel

"Uncharted"

No words
My tears won't make any room for 'em, oh
And it don't hurt
Like anything I've ever felt before

This is no broken heart
No familiar scars
This territory goes uncharted

Just me
In a room sunk down in a house in a town
And I don't breathe
Though I never meant to let it get away from me

Now I have too much to hold
Everybody has to get their hands on gold
And I want uncharted

Stuck under the ceiling
I made, I can't help the feeling I'm going down
Follow if you want, I won't just hang around
Like you'll show me where to go

I'm already out
Of foolproof ideas so don't ask me how
To get started
It's all uncharted

Each day
I'm countin' up the minutes 'til I get alone
'Cause I can't stay
In the middle of it all, it's nobody's fault

But I'm so low
Never knew so much I didn't know
Oh, everything is uncharted

I know I'm getting nowhere
When I only sit and stare like I'm going down
Follow if you want, I won't just hang around
Like you'll show me where to go

I'm already out
Of foolproof ideas so don't ask me how
To get started
It's all uncharted

Jump start my kaleidoscope heart
I love to watch the colors fade
They may not make sense
But they sure as hell made me

I won't go as a passenger, no
Waiting for the road to be laid
Though I may be going down
I'll take in flame over burning out

Compare
Where you are to where you wanna be
And you'll get nowhere

I'm going down
Follow if you want, I won't just hang around
Like you'll show me where to go

I'm already out
Of foolproof ideas so don't ask me how
To get started

I'm going down
Follow if you want, I won't just hang around
Like you'll show me where to go

I'm already out
Of foolproof ideas so don't ask me how
To get started
It's all uncharted

Inspiration

I need it.  I need it bad!  Not the kind of inspiration that you get from someone or something else... the kind that bubbles up inside of you and points you in the right direction, tells you where to go.

It's the answer to the question, "What am I going to do with the rest of my life?"  It doesn't have to be a complete answer, but a "start here", "aim in this direction", "go forward", "just do it!"...kind of answer.

I've heard it before, felt it... but it doesn't always stick... Maybe that's because I'm ignoring it or putting it aside and focusing on things that are distractions, side roads...

Dear God,
Please help me clear my mind and be open to a wonderful future filled with inspiration, joy, excitement and LIFE.  I'm ready.  Help me stay ready.
Thank you, God.
Amen.

Inspiration. Breathe it in...Life is good.

Happiness

Happiness or that contented feeling that makes you just want to smile comes from some of the strangest things sometimes.

Today, I'm keeping busy.  I'm keeping negative thoughts at bay.  Each time a negative thought tries to enter my mind, I intervene with a thought of love - for myself.  It works.  Try it.

Anyway, so as I am either keeping my mind empty and open or full of love thoughts I looked down at my little note pad.  I always have a note pad... for notes, for thoughts, for writing down how far I run or how much I ate or to list the things I absolutely need to get done...passwords that I will never remember to websites I rarely or never will again visit...

My current notepad (I go through them often) has a bunch of trees or leaves on it.  Well, trees that look like leaves standing up.  It says "Sasquatch - Leave nothing but tracks" on the back.  On the front, there's a little box that says "Sasquatch Sighting - Can you spot him?"  I've looked before and haven't seen him.  I pretty much gave up.  Maybe they forgot to actually print the Sasquatch on my particular notepad copy.

I had to smile today when I looked at the notepad, just for a short amount of time, and saw that Sasquatch climbing on one of those leaf-trees.  It made me happy.  I found the Sasquatch.  I wonder what else I will find today?  Something good, I'm sure...

The problem with email

What a wonderful world we live in where we can get texts, email, IM, phone calls and, of course, see each other in person.  It's a world of constant communication and access.  Woohoo!  Yay!  I can stay connected 24 fucking hours of the day!!!!  Ah, Ugh...  Makes me tired just thinking about it.

So... the problem with email.  And yes, it could just be MY problem with email...let me slowly LEAD into it for your reading pleasure...

The point of email is to share information with another person... via email.  The trick to email is to make sure that if you want a response, to make sure to include a question in the email that requires a response.  OR you could say in the email, "please respond" or "I would like your opinion" or "Hey, write me back"... or "you're a real fucker".  That last one, well... I wouldn't suggest it.

Now, if you are like me (God help you, really), you spend time on the email conveying the proper message.  You make sure to double check it so that you haven't said something that you didn't mean to say. You read it to yourself to check the tone of it.  Maybe you spell check it.  Sometimes I forget that.  And then, the moment arrives and you hit "send".  Yay!  It's sent.  A response is surely on its way to you momentarily.  Smile.

So, here's the problem... (yes, I admit.... may be just be my problem).  Responses to email DO NOT always come "momentarily".  SOMETIMES, the question in the email gets missed and doesn't get answered in the reply.  SOMETIMES, BELIEVE IT OR NOT - the email doesn't even get answered. 

And what's the problem with that?  Well, in this world of constant communication, depending on the email recipient - vague answers or non-answers to email - can cause... problems...  I always picture Mark Zuckerman in the Facebook movie - the scene at the end where he asks to "friend" a woman and then continuously presses the refresh button - waiting for a response....  crazymaking... abso-fucking-lutely crazymaking...

Yes, there's much more I can add to this blog about the problems with email.  And, I must say, I have to see the humor in it - to prevent the crazymaking...  Gotta laugh at yourself if you are willing to stare at a computer screen for  an indefinite amount of time JUST to receive an email...  And now emails come to your phone too.  God help us... I don't even want to get into the problems with THAT.

So, I leave you now.  I'm stepping AWAY from the computer.  I'm not even going to CHECK my email.  I just don't want to know...  There are so many other things to be doing.  Gotta do them.  Fuck the damn email.

Where are you, my friend?

I've noticed lately that your chocolate brown eyes are no longer expressive, but blank and black. 
I miss your spark.  I don't miss it for me, but I miss it for you.

Where are you, my friend?  Lost in a bottle somewhere?  You seem to try so hard to hide what you think are inadequacies that you hide what is so enjoyable about you.

I'd love to see you laugh and have fun.  I'd love to see you dance.

Be wary of comparisons

I had a conversation with a woman who has had some experiences very much like my own.  I could totally identify with where she had been, where she was at and what she had done to deal with her life circumstances (recently).  But, I also had this feeling - I believe it was fear.  I had a fear that our experiences were alike so therefore we were alike and, honestly, I didn't like where she was going (in her thoughts, on her life path, etc.).  It took me a while to really think through it, to realize that she wasn't me, I have choices and her reality is not my reality.

It's hard when you look at someone and see yourself, but I think it is really important to be wary of comparisons.  Don't be blind to the fact that - yes, there are similarities and yes, you could go down that path...But remember to take a breath and say to yourself - I have a choice.  And it doesn't matter if she or anyone else sees the comparisons and thinks we are the same.  I'm the one that determines that.  I get to decide who I am and what I do.  I may do things like you but I am not you and your thinking that I am, doesn't make it so...

Be wary of comparisons.  They can send you down a path that you don't need to be on.  Keep your eyes open, talk to God and keep those that you trust and have your best interest at heart close by.

A real mind fuck

I was listening to a man talk the other day; let's call him "Harry" (I am a die hard Harry Potter fan).  I suppose I could say I was having a conversation with Harry, but really, I didn't do any talking.  Here's the thing... Harry has this friend, his name is "Ron".  Ron recently realized he has a drinking problem after experiencing multiple seizures as a result of his alcohol consumption.  Harry, being the good friend that he is, went to visit Ron and talked with him about his experience, his plans to take care of himself better for the future, about attending AA and about a lifetime of not drinking (from here on out).

Here's the mind fuck: Harry is an alcoholic.  He is not an admitted alcoholic, but if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck... you know how the saying goes...

Everything that Harry had to say about Ron, could have been said about Harry - minus the seizures.  Harry sounded like he really had an understanding of the situation and what Ron was going to have to do.  Harry fully supported Ron.  He expressed anger with one of Ron's friends, who also had a seizure a while back, because he told Ron not to believe that the seizure was actually from the alcohol consumption.

At one point he said to me, "Ron said, 'as far as I'm concerned, anyone that drinks more than 6 beers in a night has a problem.'"  Harry's response was, "Hey now, I think many of us have had 6 or more..." so Ron replied, "Well...everyday.  If you drink 6 or more everyday, you've got a problem."

Really?

It's scary to see addiction and denial in action.  It's sad. It makes me wonder where the real Harry is.  Hidden behind all that denial...

And just to clarify - this is not a judgment.  It's a mind fuck.  I am not saying that I am immune to addiction or denial (because I am not), but I do believe that I had a very clear view of it during this one sided conversation. And I felt myself getting sucked into it a bit...like if someone lies to your face day after day, you finally just accept the lie as truth.  You join the denial.  Shit, Harry's not an alcoholic.  He doesn't drink 6 beers EVERY day.  Sheesh...

But as I watched Harry fill up his wine glass after he told me last week that he wasn't going to drink on weeknights, I realized the mind fuck I had just experienced.

Thank you God for the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.

At least I run

A friend of mine pointed something out to me the other night. She and I have similar "issues".  She pointed out that she has found a way to deal with her issue, but she has a hard time getting herself to exercise.  I am still working on my issue, but I run almost every day.  I took in what she said and I appreciated it, but then it really hit me last night while I was running.  I was having a difficult time keeping my mind straight about everything going on in my life and I thought to myself, "at least I run".  And then BAM!  What she said hit me.

It's a starting point.  If I can successfully do one thing, I can successfully do other things.  And I have found that even when I have difficulty facing my demons, I still run.  I may not have complete control over some of the things in my life, but I have found a way to be consistent, healthy and in control of my running.

This is the same friend that gave me a bookmark with the word "determination" on it.  It's so nice when your friends really "see" you.  And when they give you the gift of being able to see yourself.

Sometimes, you just can't go back

I had a philosophy teacher once who made a statement that really impacted me.  He said (something like), "You can take the world apart to analyze all the pieces, but once you do that, you can never put it back together again."  I remember the quizzical look that he had on his face after he said it.  It was as if he was picturing all the parts of the world in his head and was simply overwhelmed with the thought that they once fit together so nicely.

I feel like I have some sense of what he was talking about and I believe he was right.  Sometimes you just can't go back.  I'm talking about it in a much smaller scale than he was.  I'm talking about your own personal world - how you relate to your surroundings, other people, yourself...  Sometimes you learn certain truths, make certain changes and you find the way that you were before or the way you perceived things before to be intolerable - or, just wrong.

There's something absolutely wonderful about gaining this type of knowledge or insight.  And yet, there's a little bit of "sad" mixed in with it.  Change is hard. And sometimes.... you just can't go back.

100 days sober

100 days without a drink.  Have I wanted a drink?  Yes.  Has it been difficult not to drink?  Not really - on occasion - but, not really.  Do I envision having my first drink after this long period of abstinence from alcohol?  Hmmm.... you know, I sometimes think about going out for a drink with friends and then I think how cool it is that I haven't been drinking.  I've gone to parties, gone out to dinner, went on vacation and did just fine.  Just call me the designated driver.  I'm not really certain that I'll be taking that next drink.  I'm definitely not planning on it.

I must say, this "no drinking" thing has actually been inspirational to me.  I've inspired myself!  I started thinking about other things I could do that would improve my health, well-being, state-of-mind, etc.  I'm in the planning stages of cutting caffeine out of my diet.  Planning stages, mind you... I may not be an alcoholic, but coffeeholic - I am.  There's just no denying it.  I'm also in the planning stages of incorporating cross-training into my fitness routine.  A big step.  I love running, but other types of exercise can be a chore for me.  Funny, how that is...

Being sober has really opened my eyes and my mind to so many things around me.  Maybe this seems strange, because I wasn't a heavy drinker to begin with.  I wasn't drunk every night.  I didn't drink every night.  There's just something about making the decision to do it differently.  Coming home after a day at work with frazzled nerves and more chaos at home and choosing not to "relax" with a drink, makes a huge difference.  The difference is that you actually have to think about what's going on around you, think about how you react to it, what your plan is to keep yourself positive and caring for the people (family) around you.  And the more you think about it, the more you walk through it, the more you learn about yourself.  Your eyes get opened.  You get inspired.  Well, that's how it happened (is happening) for me.

100 days sober on Independence Day.  Pretty cool...

My butt hangeth

There was this picture of me running.  It was taken just a few months ago.  It was a good picture as far as running pictures go, but there was this thing with my butt.  It seemed that part of it was a little too low...  And it was kind of flat at the bottom.  It was a side view.  I just decided that it was some weird thing about running and the picture was taken at this certain angle, so my butt just looked "funny".  Yep.  Weird picture.  Move on.

Well...I was at a hotel recently that had a full length mirror just outside the bathroom.  So, if you are in the bathroom standing in front of the sink and you look to the side, you can see your entire body from the side.  I was naked.  I looked pretty good (if I do say so myself), but there was this weird thing with my butt.  I was like, huh... I turned a little to the left, a little to the right and sure enough, in the right angle I could see that "my butt hangeth".  It hangeth lower than it used to.  It is, you know, a 40 year old butt.  Huh...

So, my butt hangeth.  How does that make me feel?  Strangely enough, it doesn't really bother me.  My butt is almost 41 years old.  Damn thing got tired.  I do believe that I can give it a bit of a "lift".  I've heard that lunges and squats are good for that.  Unfortunately, running doesn't do anything to stop your butt from sliding down the back of your thigh.

I've started my squat-lunge program... just one day so far, but hey, you gotta start somewhere...

Yep.  Shit happens as you get older.  And sometimes, it happens to your butt.

If I died today

I can honestly say, that if I died today, I would feel good about the time I spent here on earth.

I am in NO WAY ready to die, I have lots to do, places to go, children to mother, family and friends to love...BUT I feel like at least my eyes are open and I've been able to experience the truth and that feels amazing.  And most of it has happened just this year...

My relationships with friends have gone deeper, my understanding of myself is more thorough, my view of everything around me is more positive and my gratitude for all that I have and all that I have experienced is immense.

It's really hard to say to yourself, "I should be grateful for what I have because there are so many others that have so much less."  It's really hard to say it and feel it because each one of us has our own sets of challenges and problems that seem overwhelming.  My problems may be miniscule compared to someone elses, but they are mine and can sometimes block my view of the whole picture.

So, I hope to stay on this path of gratitude and truth.  I hope to grab as many moments as I can with people that I love.  I want to meet more people, make more friends, cry more, laugh more, love more, touch more... Feel the sun, dance in the rain...

I look forward to living each day so that I can continue to say, "If I died today.  It would be OK."  You can never predict the future, so making the most of the present is so important. 

I'm off to make the most of it!

Talk to a stranger

There's this woman who is always reading out in front of the office building where I work.  I see her almost every day when I come in for work or when I leave for lunch.  My first impression of her was, well, she's not my type.  She's not the type of person I would see myself being friends with, talking to on a regular basis, you know... not my type.

She's probably about 10 years older than me, very simple looking, not much make-up (if any) and she always wears her hair parted down the middle and pulled into a low ponytail in the back.  She is always wearing a shirt and slacks and flat, closed shoes.  Her hair is dark and wavy with some gray in it.  She walks around in front of the offices, reading and smoking... she doesn't look up and acknowledge anyone.  The only thing that really stands out about her appearance is her long red fingernails.

I said "Hi" to her today.  I asked her how many books she reads through in a week.

She smiled really big.  She excitedly talked about how the book she finished on Monday was a book that she started Sunday afternoon.  Her eyes are blue. They match the blue shirt she's wearing today.  They sparkle when she talks about the stories she has read.  She said that she chooses books more on the character than the author.  She mentioned them by name to me, as if she was introducing me to her close friends.  She mentioned many names of authors that have written series of books that she follows.  She talked about one series that she read ages ago that she plans to re-read.

She has a beautiful smile.  She's very interesting.  And I was such an idiot to have not said "hi" to her earlier.  Huh...and I've completely ignored her up until now just because "she's not my type".  What an idiot I am...

Whatever works...

It recently occured to me that the one thing that works for me in life is to "just do it".

When I started running, I started with two days per week.  Why?  Well, simply because it was more than one.  It wasn't too long before I was running four days per week.  Why?  Well, because when there was time available in the day, I would go for a run.  It wasn't planned. I didn't set a schedule.  I just did it.

Once I realized I had become  "a runner", I started to incorporate goals like 5k races, 10k races, half marathons and my first marathon.  I joined running groups for support.  I lost weight because of my running.  I cared more about my diet and the health of my body.  All because I "just did it."

I didn't think about the time it would take out of my day to include a run (some days  I didn't even know when I would run, I just knew I would), I didn't think about how much the shoes cost, the races cost, or how many years I would run.

It works for me.

If I think back to when I was in college, I remember taking classes because I wanted a degree.  I knew I wanted a degree.  I didn't think about the fact that I was working full-time (sometimes part-time) or that I couldn't really afford the tuition.  I just applied.  I took the classes.  I got my degree.  I never questioned whether or not I would get it.  It didn't happen in just four years.  Perhaps I could pick on myself and say, "well, you know, if you put some requirements on yourself, maybe you would have completed your degree in a shorter amount of time". 

But...why?  Why question what works?

I think it's an awesome thing to be able to look back on your life and see yourself and what you do successfully and see how you do it.  If you know how you've done it in the past, then you'll know how to achieve success in the future.

So, ask yourself... What works?

And "just do it."

20 Push-ups

I can do 20 push-ups at one time.  Perhaps I could do more, but I really slow down after 15, so I've kept it at 20.  There IS a reason why I'm sharing this...

I was thinking (a favorite pasttime) about how I needed to do my push-ups and how much I really hate doing them.  I hate the pain associated with them.  I have no idea how long it takes to do 20 (never timed it), but while I'm doing it it lasts FOREVER.  BUT I love how I feel after I do them.  I feel strong, accomplished, healthy, fit and happy. 

So, I realized that there are a lot of things that are hard to do, but I still do them.  I do them because of the positive effect they have in my life.  It's hard not to drink a beer with pizza (seriously...).  It's hard to hear constructive criticism (got some today...).  It's hard to tell my children "no" when I know that it will result in a lot of backlash (Yep, did that too...).

But I gotta tell ya... it's all so worth it.  Every time I do my 20 push-ups, I remember how nice it is to move forward in life.  The pain isn't so bad.  I think I'll try for 22 tonight... If I can do that, just imagine what else is possible...

I found my shorts

I found my shorts.  I was in my bedroom and I was... well, it's not important where I was or what I was doing.  After I was done, I looked in my sock drawer and found my shorts.  They've been missing for a couple of weeks.  THIS is significant.  I cannot tell you why, but I have deemed it a sign from God.  My shorts have returned.  It is time to celebrate.  How shall I celebrate, you ask?  Well, as they are my running shorts, I choose to run... with my shorts on. 

I have to tell you that today has been a difficult day.  My head has not been in the right place, my thoughts have been very negative and I still didn't know where my damn shorts were. But now I do.  God is great, God is good and I thank him for my ... shorts.

Thank you for sharing in my enthusiasm.  I know that great things are in store for me.  And now I'm ready.

I found my shorts.

I remember

I remember being a young girl and walking down my street with my friend, holding hands the whole time.  I have no idea how old I was, but I remember that we would always hold hands when we were walking together.  It wasn't just one friend, although I don't have many specific memories, but I remember holding hands with friends was just something that we did.  I also remember when it stopped.

One day, I was walking with one of my friends, who was a year older than me, across the street from my house.  We were close to the corner house on the opposite side of the street.  I remember exactly where we were.  I reached for her hand and she pushed my hand away.  I didn't understand.  I looked at her and she said something like "we don't do that". 

It had happened.  She had become aware of how holding hands looked to other people and it made her uncomfortable.  She didn't want to hold my hand anymore.  I felt sad, but somehow I understood.  I never reached for a friend's hand after that.

Fast forward to present day... I'm almost 41 now and I'm holding hands with friends again.  Who the fuck cares what other people think.  It's sad to think of what we give up as we are growing up because of all the fears of what others think, how others judge...  but it's never too late.  Hug a friend today.  Hold someone's hand and walk in public.  Life's too short.

Grace and forgiveness

It's what I give myself every single day now, several times a day.

Did I act selfishly?  Did I forget something?  Did I "do it wrong?" Could I have done that differently or better?

It doesn't really matter what the answer is to these questions.  If the answer is "yes", I give myself grace.  If it's "no", I give myself grace for being unsure and needing to double check.

Parenting is a real challenge, relationships can be difficult and communication skills are definitely not something that everyone has, so I give myself grace and forgiveness.  It helps me move on from one situation to another without having to dwell on what I might have done differently.  It gives me the chance to do it differently.  It makes me stronger.

When you pick on yourself for doing it "wrong", you tear yourself down.  It takes strength to improve and make changes.  Give yourself grace and forgiveness and give those around you a gift that they will cherish - a stronger, better you.

I wonder how everyone else does it...

Have you ever wondered how everyone else does it?  I mean, sometimes it seems that I have just enough time to do the laundry and the dishes on the weekends after working full-time, running the kids around, Dr. and dentist appointments, homework, balancing the checkbook, paying bills, exercise, grocery shopping, making phone calls... and God knows what else...

I find myself wondering "How does everyone else do it?"  How do people with three kids (or more!)do it when I only have two?  How do single parent households do it?  How do people who appear to be so-much-more-put-together do it?

I just can't get my head around it.  Right when I think things are running so smoothly - the trash is emptied, the floor is clean, the dishes are put away, and clothes are actually hanging in the rooms they belong in - I realize... CRAP... there's pink stuff growing in the toilet.  When was the last time I cleaned that toilet?  And then I look outside and see weeds all over the backyard hillside... CRAP... how long have THOSE been there?

The dogs need shots, and they need to be groomed, the car needs a smog check, my son needs a bigger bed, my daughter needs new jeans (didn't we just buy some?), the air conditioning needs to be serviced, the oranges on the neighbor's tree need to be picked if we want to enjoy them, my ipod earphones need to be replaced...  The list goes on and on...

And I just wonder...

How does everyone else do it?  And is there an easier way?

I'm just wonderin'...  I would love to know...One day...

What's in your backpack?

So, we each have a backpack.  Some of us choose a very elaborate, decorated backpack.  Some of us choose a very plain, solid colored backpack.  Some backpacks are large with very little content.  Some are small and ripping at the seams from being stuffed so full.  It’s really not important what size the backpack is, its color, its many pockets, buckles, strings, and zippers.  Each backpack holds inside of it some clues as to who we are.  These clues are little pieces of information about our life as we have lived it thus far.  In one backpack, there may be a memory of the loss of a parent; in another, a painful divorce.  Perhaps there’s a memory of the best vacation ever or of a passion-filled romantic experience.  There are names and places and people stuffed into these backpacks.  There are copies of documents such as medical reports, marriage licenses, divorce decrees, homeownership, birth certificates for ourselves and our children, lay-off notices, job promotions, bankruptcy filings, foreclosure notices, high school diplomas and college degrees - just to name a few.  We often carry our backpacks with us everywhere we go.  Sometimes we leave them unzipped so that others can view the contents.  We do this both purposefully and mistakenly.  We may be saying, “See who I am?”  “See what I’ve done?” and looking for acceptance for who we are and where we’ve been.  Some of us like to leave them zipped tight and constantly try to camouflage their size and weight.  We do this because we don’t trust others viewing what’s inside.  We don’t want to be judged by our past, especially the negative experiences.  Either way, the backpack is always there and everyone has one and everyone has their own personal way of dealing with what’s inside it.  I find myself in a place where I feel that I want to take my backpack off my shoulders and have it sit beside me.  I look at its size and shape and all of its pockets.  I see all of its zippers and how it’s been well worn and faded and how it so nicely protects what I keep inside.  I unzip the top and an “insufficient funds” notice from my bank pops out and lands on the ground in front of me.  I smile.  Ah, yes… one of those.  On a different day, maybe I would have rushed to crumple it up and stuff it back in the backpack.  I mean, that’s not something that I want others to see.   What would they think of me?  Would they decide that I can’t control my finances?  I can’t control my spending?  I’m not smart enough to keep track of the money in my checking account?  But in this place, this very wonderful place that I’m in, I see that my backpack is separate from me.  Sure, it contains clues about me.  Many of them would lead someone right to me, but many of them are just things that happened along the way, along my journey.  If you really want to see me, you would have to look past my backpack and into my eyes and breathe me in.  You also, would need to set your backpack to the side because I could not join you with it in the way.  You could not see me if I did not let you.  And in doing so I would see you as well.  This is connection.  This is where we put all of our judgments and stereotypes aside.  This is where thoughts do not form complete sentences.  They are reduced down to single word affirmations, like “Oh”, “Ah”, “Yes” and “Wow”.  And then the acknowledgements of “I see”, “I get it”, “I know”.

Where in the heck did I put that?

Have you ever gone looking for something like your sunglasses, only to find that they were on the top of your head tucked behind your ears?  Or maybe you went looking for your cell phone while you were leaving the house, only to realize that you were on it, so that's why you couldn't find it?

It's funny, because I have this sense, like my sunglasses being on my head (or maybe I'm even wearing them), that whatever it is I'm looking for is right here, on me, in me, with me, available to me if I would just pay a little bit more attention.

I have this feeling that something is missing, but once I find it I'm going to realize that it's been here all along.  Something that I've spent tons of time looking for...convincing myself that I have no idea where it is so I must keep looking.  And in looking for it, I've distracted myself so much so, that I don't even see it when I look in the mirror.  Like my glasses on top of my head... my focus is elsewhere on my reflection so I don't notice that they are RIGHT THERE.

I suppose that's why we need to always check in with other people and tell them what we're searching for... so they can help us see what we cannot.  That's what friends are for...to help us out of our head's a bit...and maybe even laugh about it.

Sexting?

I had an interesting conversation with my hairdresser recently.  I was talking about how my husband was out of town and how I had texted him several pictures and notes about what we (the kids and I) were doing throughout the day.  I found it interesting that the texts he responded to did not have to do with me.  I sent him pictures of my run, pictures of me with my friends, pictures of the trail and a picture of the leg of one of the men I was running with.  He fell on the trail and got all banged up.  This was the picture that my husband responded to... "Is he OK?" Hmmm...  Yeah, he's OK.

I sent him play-by-plays of my son's football game and a couple of sweet notes "from me to him"... He responded to the football game texts... his response was directly to my son. On my phone. Hmmm...

My hairdresser suggested that I send my husband a picture of myself, naked, and see if he responded to that one.
"Sexting?"
"Yes." She said.  "What?  I mean, you're married."
Uh... I don't know about that...Hmmm...

So, then, you know... I'm in the bathroom later that day and I've got my phone with me (most important calls come while you are in the bathroom - proven fact) and my phone has a camera on it... and...  Well, I just wasn't impressed with how my body parts looked on the phone, to tell you the truth.  Maybe it's because I'm holding the phone myself and the angle is off.  I don't know.  It just wasn't workin' for me.

And I was thinking... I bet if I DID send him a naked picture of myself - with my luck - he wouldn't have his glasses on and he'd pass the phone to a friend to ask him what it's a picture of...  Hmmm...  I bet he WOULD text me back if that happened.  Heck, I might even get a phone call.

Running is...

Therapeutic, better than walking, great exercise, a challenge, fun, painful, a way to meet people, a reason to get up in the morning, a great way to experience the outdoors  (beautiful trails), my "thing", how I take care of my body, a way to have goals,the best decision I made, inexpensive, a reason to buy cute take tops, great with an ipod, great without an ipod, a way to process my thoughts, something to talk about, the best hour (or so) of the day, the fountain of youth, incredible at night, fun in the afternoon, best with friends, great when you need alone time...something I hope I never have to give up... 

Air conditioning is for whimps

Yes.  The air conditioning is out in my car and it's been a warm week...

I must say, there is something very exhilarating about driving around in such beautiful weather, having the wind blow your hair all over the place and sweating from parts of your body that you just don't want to admit have sweat glands.

I'm being serious.  I really think it is exhilarating!

It brings back childhood memories.  My parents didn't have a car with air conditioning until I was in high school.  I remember when we got that car, I thought, "now this just isn't right."  There was something special about being the kind of family that didn't give in to the luxuries of life.  We knew how to really live - be one with the elements... Yeah.  There was just something wrong with driving around with the windows rolled up on a beautiful day.  Just wrong...

I'm really not in a rush to get the air fixed.  We'll see if that changes when summer comes along (I'd imagine I'll have it fixed by then), but for now - there's just something about it that makes me smile.  I've noticed other cars that have their windows down too.  I wonder if that's by choice or if their air conditioning is out too?  Since my window's down, I think maybe I'll yell across traffic and ask someone.  I'll let you know how that goes.

Assholes are full of shit

It seems like an obvious statement. But, as we all know, when faced with an asshole, sometimes we forget that what comes out of their mouth is the same as what comes out of a dog's butt.  It should be removed from the lawn (by the owner), put in a bag and thrown in the trash - never to be seen (or smelled) again.

I'm sorry, what did you say?  Come over here next to the toilet so I can make sure that it drops from your mouth, into the porcelain bowl, and I'll flush it and send it to where it belongs - along with the rest of the crap that gets deposited into this toilet.

Sometimes, assholes are tricky.  They type out their words and send them via email.  They're so full of shit it just seeps through their pores.  They have to get it out any way they can.  It'd be nice to have an email auto-response, "Sorry asshole, this email doesn't accept your shit."  Yeah, that'd be cool.

I have this friend who deals with an asshole on a regular basis.  Now, this isn't just some guy that occasionally acts like an asshole.  He's a full-blown ass (rather be an asshole than a full ass! He's both).
I type this post in her honor and for all the friends who must deal with the asshole, the crap, and the flies that hang around as a result.  Just a friendly reminder to only give the asshole the attention an asshole would need.  Think toilet, toilet paper, fly spray...  bidet (on a good day)... hemorrhoid cream.  Other than that, the asshole doesn't deserve anything else from you.  Eventually, he might wonder why everyone, like Pavlov's dog, immediately has to use the restroom when he enters the room.  Or not.  Because, well... he's an asshole.

My bags are packed

It was an awkward moment. 

My husband came out of the bathroom to find me standing at the edge of the bed, in front of the closet, with a suitcase sitting on the bed in front of me.

OK.  Don't freak out! It's actually a little funny... in a twisted kind of way...  Let's rewind the tape a bit.

My husband and I had an argument the night before.  You know, I don't think it was actually an argument... it was... it was a negative interaction.  Yeah,  a negative interaction - I'll go with that.  I didn't participate very well in this interaction.  I listened, but I didn't really comfort or apologize or... I was distracted and lacking energy, I think, to engage in the interaction (nice and vague here, I know).  Anyway, part of my distraction was that I was texting my sister and a friend throughout the evening (in between our interactions).  I tried to make sure I wasn't looking at my phone when he was talking to me, but he caught me texting a few times when he came in the room and, I think, maybe he misunderstood what I was doing...  Sometimes when my daughter texts her friends while or shortly after I talk to (yell at) her, I get a little paranoid that she is transcribing our conversation and sending it out to the world.  I wonder if he was having this experience...

Anyway, the texting with my sister was about her upcoming trip.  She was in need of an additional suitcase.  She wanted to borrow one of mine.  I told her "no problem", that I would bring one by her place tomorrow.

So, back to the awkward moment...  Both of us (my husband and I) pretty much woke up on the same side of the bed that we went to bed on (the grumpy side).  Our typical morning routine is that I use the bathroom first and then he goes in while I finish getting ready in the bedroom.   He went in the bathroom and I climbed up on the bed and got one of our suitcases down from on top of the closet and set it on the bed.  I then started pulling my clothes out that I was going to wear to work.  And then he stepped out of the bathroom.

"What's the suitcase for?"
"Oh, my sister wanted to borrow it."
Silence.
I looked up from what I was doing and he was staring at me with a strange look on his face.  I didn't get it at that point... so I said, "What?"  "Is that OK?"
Hesitation.
"Yeah, that's OK."
Then he took the suitcase off the bed, looked at me once more and carried it downstairs for me.  I continued to get dressed, not thinking much about  it.... and then... well, it occurred to me what it might have looked like... and I giggled a bit.  Whoops.

Ok, Ok... it's not funny.  But it kinda is... in a twisted kinda way... 

Grief

Sometimes a walk down memory lane can be so painful.

I find myself going through a grief process.  I'm looking forward and making changes.  I'm doing my best to live life every day.  Make every day count.  Touch lives, connect with people, be a good mother, enjoy my surroundings, love my friends and family, enjoy nature and have gratitude for what I have (and for what I don't have - sometimes you have to be thankful for those things you DON'T have to deal with).

And then, interestingly enough, as I take these steps forward, I find myself naturally turning my head to look behind me to see where I've been.  I can see where I stood still, where I sat down, where I went backward, and where I got lost.  I'd really like to reach back and show myself the right way.  I wonder where I would be today if I didn't get lost, if I didn't stand still, or if the people who were around me then were as supportive as the people I have around me now.

Fortunately, I have not had the experience of losing a parent, sibling, child or spouse.  My grief is really over lost opportunities and bad choices.  It's about the loss of my teenage self, my 20-something year old self, my 30-something year old self; because I can't get them back.  I have to keep moving.  There's a real sadness in that.  I can totally see how when you lose a loved one, part of the grief is not in the loss of what was, but in the loss of what will be because you have to move on. 

Well, you don't HAVE to move on.  You may keep living, but not take an active role in your life because you let the grief overcome you.  But that's not really a great choice.  It's one that will bring more grief and mourning later on...  either to you or those around you.

So, moving forward and experiencing emotional and spiritual growth has an element of "bitter-sweet" in it because there's no way that you can grow without becoming aware of where/when you weren't growing.  And then... it seems... that perhaps getting lost or stepping backward is a necessary part of moving forward.  And if it's behind you, then maybe you're through it, so you only have to go forward from now on.  Yeah, that'd be nice.

So, I'm experiencing some grief right now.  Apparently, there are 7 stages to grief.  I'm looking forward to the hope and acceptance stage...bring it on... please.

Could I get my ears pierced?

It sounds like a simple enough question. The answer should be simple too.  It's either "yes" or "no", right?

Perhaps it is just in my nature to make things more complex than they really are (or need to be), but having this question come from my son, not my daughter, made my ability to answer simply...very difficult.

If my daughter asked to get her ears pierced at age 12 (which is probably the age that she DID get her ears pierced), I wouldn't think much about it before saying "yes".  In fact, I did say "yes".  My only concern was whether or not she had the maturity to take care of her ears properly so they didn't get infected.

Several thoughts went through my head after my son asked to get his ears pierced and not one of them had to do with his ability to take care of his ears properly.  My first thought was, "Oh my God, you're dad would kill me if I say yes..." My inclination was to say "no" because he's 12 and he's a boy.  Gasp!  I wanted to say no just because he's a boy!  Is that wrong?  Am I sexist?  What does that say about me?  How do I tell him that if he was a girl, he could get the earrings.  Ack!  This is not good.  So, I had to buy some time.  I told him that I would get back to him on it.

I thought about it some more.  I remembered one of my daughter's little friends, at about age 11 or 12, coming over to our house with both of his ears pierced. I remember thinking, "that's interesting."  My daughter told me about his home life.  His parents were un-involved, he had an older brother that did what he wanted, and he was often home alone.  Hmmm... AND he has his EARS PIERCED.  Hmmmm....

I mentioned it to my daughter. I asked her what she thought of boys with their ears pierced and what she thought of that boy at that time.  She said that she knows several 16 year old boys with their ears pierced and she thinks it looks great.  She said that she thought boys who had their ears pierced when she was 12 (and they were 12) were a bit "scary".  They were "bad" boys.  Bad boys are great when you are 16,  but scary when you're 12 (yes, coming from my 16 year old daughter...).

So, maybe my reasoning isn't perfect, but I've decided to NOT let my son get his ears pierced for now.  I explained to him that I support his individuality and his style, but that he's too young to get piercings.  I explained that I DO look at it differently than I did with his sister, because other people look at it differently.  Many 12 year old girls have their ears pierced.  NOT so many 12 year old boys have their ears pierced.  Is this a good enough reason to say "no"? I believe it is.

It's an interesting thing to ponder.  I don't want my children to limit how they express themselves because of what other people think, but sometimes it's good to take into consideration how you appear to the world.  Truly, my son with or without earrings, makes no difference.  The earrings don't change who he is, what family he comes from or how he behaves.  But... he's 12 and he's beautiful, strong, friendly and so so sweet.  I'd rather have someone notice all of those things.  Save the earrings for later...

Ultimate Parenting Wisdom

I must admit, I don't have any.

I'm not an idiot and occasionally I make the right decision.  Well, hmmm.... occasionally I make good decisions.  I don't know what my good vs. bad decision ratio is, but I think I'm on the right track most of the time.

Parenting is hard.  Sometimes it's good to take other's input or advice and sometimes it's just better not to listen to anyone.  Just tell them to "shove it" when they have an opinion.  You know?  Just fuck off, will you?

Anyway, then there's the school.  There are teachers, counselors, administrators and other educational staff.  They work there (at the school, for the district, whatever) and they see the work that your child does and they can make recommendations on what your child needs based on what they see.  Now this could be helpful and this could not...

I'm a "go with the flow" kind of person.  There must be a REASON why my child is slated to go to this particular school, so why try to change it?  What if I have him transferred from this particular school to the one that his friends' parents have decided to send them to and then he has a terrible experience?  Is it because I went against the laws of the Universe?  Is it a sin to change schools simply to keep him with his friends?

What if my daughter asks to be put into a higher math class than her teacher recommends? I, as the parent, am the Ultimate Authority and have the power to override the teacher's recommendation.  It's a process.  You need to jump through a few hoops, explain to a few people WHY you want it to happen, get told by those people that you may be making a GRAVE mistake, that there is a reason WHY the teacher MAKES these recommendations, but if you are willing to TAKE ON that responsibility, then BY ALL MEANS override the teacher's recommendation.

Yeah, fuck you.  Give me the damn form so I can move her into the class that gives her a sense of self-worth.  And stop offering classes that don't challenge students.  Expect more, teach them to expect more, set the bar so that they can reach for something rather than become bottom dwellers.  People don't always perform to their capabilities, but they typically will perform to the expectations that have been communicated to them.

Coffee, anyone?

 Coffee... Ahhhhh...
Coffee first thing in the morning, coffee for an afternoon pick me up, coffee with dessert at night... Is there ever a bad time for coffee?  Absolutely NOT!  Oh shoot, let me rethink that.  Right before a marathon or half marathon, not such good time for coffee, unless you have time to use the 'facilities' before your run (please don't make me explain).

And look!  Coffee as art!  Coffee with milk, coffee with half and half, coffee with foam (yay! love this kind), coffee with chocolate (another favorite~mocha), teeny tiny cups of coffee (espresso), bold coffee, mild coffee, a whole damn pot of coffee or just a single cup of coffee.


Coffee with friends, coffee alone, coffee in Starbucks, coffee at home, coffee at work...

The wonderful smell of coffee!  Iced coffee!  Hot coffee!  OH MY GOD I JUST LOVE COFFEE!!!

And, I think I've had a few too many cups....

Nah... one more cup of COFFEE!  Hooray!!!

and maybe some cheesecake. Yum.

Enjoy the moments

So, it's late at night and I'm thinking... Hmmm... I should blog about something.  I'm running in the morning, so I should blog tonight so that I don't have to try and fit time in to blog and run before I go to work.  Sounds like a plan, doesn't it?

But, as luck would have it, BOTH  of my children are still awake (Did I say it's "late at night"?).  My very s-l-o-w computer finally booted up and I am ready to blog.  AND my daughter has decided to sit on the desk (that the computer is on) and paint her toenails on the chair (that I would be sitting on).

My son is also in the room, watching her paint her toenails in amazement (well, maybe not in amazement).  They are both happy and talking to me.  I mention (a few times) that it is really late and they should get some sleep.  It's a school night.  And... no... they didn't listen (no comments on my mom skills here, please).

My daughter pulls out a book that she got for her birthday to share with me.  It's called Creative Cursing and it has two stacks of cards sitting side by side in it that you can flip in order to come up with creative cursing phrases.  Would you like an example?  How about "nipple fucker".  First card shows the word "nipple" and second card shows "fucker".  Yeah, nice eh?  These are the kinds of books that my children find amuzing. Great.

And then the conversation goes to other gross things that kids just love to talk about and I learn what a "blue waffle" is...  and I'll warn you now, it's NOT pretty (and I wouldn't suggest looking it up either. You won't recover). 

So... Obviously, my kiddies finally did make it to bed.  I did get to blog.  And because of them, I had something to blog about!  I also got to see their smiles, hear their laughter, hug them lots and learn about what they're talking about at school (which is really gross...).

Enjoy the moments.  Even if it delays blogging or your bedtime...  It's so worth it.

Ha! I'm sober

Thirty days with no drinking!  Ha!  Feels really good, actually.

I could go to an AA meeting, say I am an alcoholic and get my thirty day chip.  BUT, there's no reason for that...let's just celebrate together - with a drink...  No, no, no... I'm kidding.  I am.

A great replacement for the beer on those "beer and pizza" nights, that I've found, is sparkling mineral water.  I love it and the carbonation makes you feel like you're having a beer (well, it works for me).  There is one drawback, I must tell you... Drink a couple of these babies and you might get some serious gas. So, warn your loved ones!  OR  don't.  Might be more funny if you don't...

It's a journey.  It's not always easy looking at yourself, looking at your life and making changes that you sometimes fear will take the fun or freedom out of your existence.  But I must say, I am still having fun and having the freedom to choose to make changes is absolutely awesome.

So, I hope you join me by celebrating whatever goal you have recently accomplished.  Enjoy the journey.  It's one hell of a ride...

I gave up my dildo for lent

What?  I'm sorry... WHAT?

I'm not even sure where our conversation was going prior to her admission, but when she said it, it nearly stopped me in my tracks (we were out running at the time).

Now, I'm not a very religious person.  Well, strike that.  I'm not a practicing Christian.  I do believe in God. And I have never given anything up for lent.  In fact, I had to google it to make sure I really understood what it was.  I read online that it is a "period of fasting, repentance, moderation and spiritual discipline."

OK.  Well, I run... so fasting isn't too realistic.  Repentance - yeah, not crazy about this word - sounds like guilt to me.  Moderation and spiritual discipline - these two things I "get".  So, giving something up for lent would be an act of spiritual discipline.  I could see giving up alcohol, chocolate, caffeine, or sugary foods, but I'd like to think that anything having to do with a dildo would fall under the category of moderation rather than spiritual discipline.

Here's my logic.  There are just certain things in life that I would put into the category of "self care".  Getting enough sleep, regular showers, exercise, and meditation are all fine examples of  self care.  I happened to read online yesterday that there are analgesic benefits from experiencing orgasm.  Obviously, the benefits from using a dildo also fall into the category of self care (OBVIOUSLY).

Self care is not something that you give up for lent.  Should you find that there is an obsessiveness or addictive quality to your self care (maybe you use your dildo a little too often?), by all means - practice moderation.

I must say that the conversations I have with friends while out running are quite entertaining and thought provoking.  This one was rather alarming.  I just want to make sure my friends (readers) all know how much I care.  Don't put your dildo away.  Take a break from coffee.  That's my advice.

It's not all about you

Sometimes, things bother me.  Sometimes when things bother me, I don't reach out to others.  I sit with my problems quietly. I get sad. I withdraw.

And then, sometimes, as a result, others withdraw from me.  They don't know how to deal with my "sad" or they personalize my actions and think that my withdrawal is a sign that I am harboring resentment or anger toward them.

Here's what I have to say about that, "It's just not all about you."  I can say it because I've been there - on both sides.

When someone withdraws, it's a sign that something is wrong.  You may or may not be part of the "something that is wrong", but there's no need to assume that you are.  There's no need to get angry or resentful in response to someone's actions, when the reason for their actions is unclear.

A great way to care for a person is to ask them, "what's wrong?"  Find out what is really going on.  Open your heart and your mind and give your spouse, friend, coworker some space to express themselves.  Don't be afraid to help someone that is hurting just because you think they might say something about how you played a part in it. 

Let go of the fear.  Make it about them.

It's NOT all about you.  And that's a good thing.

Honesty is a good thing

I learned a long time ago that it's not nice to attack someone's insecurities.  I took it even further and decided that it's not nice to point out things that others do or say that bother you.  I decided this for three reasons: a. The other person's feelings get hurt. b. It doesn't feel good to deliver bad news and c. It's possible that they will come back at you with anger or something negative and I don't handle negativity or anger well at all.

I am now learning that it is truly a gift to be honest with your friends and family about what you think and feel.  You give yourself a gift by speaking your mind and getting a chance to be heard.  You give your friends and family a gift because now they know what it is that is creating distance in your relationship.  They now have the opportunity to "do it differently" and also share their feelings with you.

I don't think of myself as a dishonest person, but I have been.  And now that I've chosen to be honest with myself about this fact, I can move on, grow personally and in my relationships, and - most importantly - I can share with my children so that they can learn from my mistakes instead of figuring it out on their own.

Honesty is hard.  Sometimes it hurts.  Sometimes it makes you want to look away and deny what is really true, but it really is one of the best gifts you can give yourself and others.

Just something that I'm learning... that I felt I needed to share.  Honestly.

Writer's block?

Can you believe it?  Five posts in and I've got writer's block.  Fuck.

Actually, it's not really writer's block, it's more like everything in my brain right now is SO DAMN DEPRESSING, why would I want to write about it?  And why in the hell would you want to read about it?

And look at my language?  Good God.  Here I am, posting to a blog with my spirit name as the signature and the blog address - RiverTreasure - while I type words like, well... you can see them in this post.  No need to write them again, eh?

In any case... crud, what was my point... (and no, I am not under the influence of anything...)  OH.  OK.  My point is... my point is that I have writer's block and I'm not sure where I'm going with this.  So, why even post this?  Well, because "it's my blog and I'll post if I want to" (can you hear the song?)... AND purely for your entertainment.  Because we all come up against these things once in a while, so it's nice to know that we're not alone (at least I like to know that I'm not alone).  So, here's me telling you that you're not alone. You're not alone if you're feeling depressed, experiencing writer's block or signing a very beautiful spiritual name to a blog that contains profanity.  I'm right with you... and glad to be there.

A voice of wisdom on the radio

I was listening to the radio and they were taking calls in response to a woman's request for advice.  Apparently, her fiance asked that she make a commitment not to drink during their marriage.  It didn't sound like this woman had a drinking problem, it sounded like her fiance had a problem with people who drink or simply didn't want alcohol to play any part in their marriage.  She wanted to know what other people might do in her situation.  Would they give up drinking for their life partner?

I expected the responses to be short and shallow.  I expected to hear, "You shouldn't have to give up anything for anyone else." or "You shouldn't go through with the marriage if he's already trying to control you."

Instead, what I heard was a woman who, even just replying to a random question on the radio, expressed honesty, sensitivity, genuine caring and what I believe to be great wisdom. She shared her own story of how her husband asked that she quit drinking.  She actually did stop drinking, but not for him, she stopped because she realized that she had a problem.  She said that she stopped drinking because it was a problem in her relationship, but that in doing so, she became aware that the alcohol was only the tip of the iceberg.  There were other problems and they ran deep through the relationship and in her life.  She pointed out that a request from your partner to stop drinking may unearth much more than just a drinking problem.  It may change the relationship completely or eventually end it.

How Stupid am I?

And so it happens...Sometimes crap just flies out of my mouth.

I have a teenage daughter.  It's challenging.  She challenges me.  Actually, to give credit where credit is due - she is the main reason for my growth - personally and emotionally.  But, growing isn't easy and it most definitely isn't constant.  Sometimes I step back into my own teenage shoes and go toe to toe with her on issues and that's what happened today.  She wants something.  I don't think she should have it (based upon my ultimate parenting wisdom). End of discussion, right?  After all, I am the parent.  I have spoken.

It doesn't normally happen that way.  Yeah, who am I kidding. I don't think it ever happens that way.  She fights me tooth and nail, I fight myself, I fight her back... and then something stupid happens.  I say to her, "When you have children you'll understand how difficult this is." She says to me, "Maybe I won't get married and have children."  And then, my ultimate parenting wisdom goes out the door and I say, "Good, because it's a terrible experience."

OH MY GOD.  What a stupid thing to say.  Um, back-up, reel the tape back in... erase, erase...whoops.

She runs out the door (after my ultimate parenting wisdom) crying...  Ugh.  Double ugh...

Thankfully, she ALWAYS has her cell phone with her.  I text her to come home.  I tell her she's not terrible, she's a blessing.  It's the arguing that's terrible.

I hear the front door open a few minutes later.  Sigh...  She's home.  Thank God.

"FUCK"

As someone new to the blogger scene, I must admit that I do worry about offending the sensibilities of my readers (the multitudes of them).  And, as luck would have it, I have friends (readers) that will tell me that they would like to read the whole truth, explitives and all.  So, here's to you, my wonderful friends... a "FUCK" posting.

I went to Starbucks to get my needs met this morning - caffiene and attention.  Two addictions that I have and will admit to.  Yes, in my mind, everyone in the Starbucks notices when I walk in.  They are all thinking about me - what I'm wearing, where I came from, where I'm going, what I do for a living... God I'm gorgeous... you know, the regular stuff.  And FUCK!  There were two people behind the counter and two people in the store.  Four fucking people.  I'm sorry, that just doesn't fill my needs.  So much so that I actually told the cashier, "This is where I get my people watching needs met and this just doesn't do it for me."  She chuckled and looked at me like I was a little nuts - oh, and gave me my coffee.  At least I got the caffiene I went in for. Fuck (what I mumbled under my breath after getting in the car).

Girlfriends

 I've been in primary relationship with one man, my husband, for more than half of my life.  In the early days of our relationship, he was my everything.  I didn't have time or make time for anyone else in my life.  If he was available, I wanted to be with him.  When we had children, then he and they were my all.  I felt guilty if I took time away from our family.  I felt like no other relationships mattered the way that ours did. 

I now have something that I would have never imagined possible.  I have girlfriends.  I have girlfriends that love me unconditionally.  I have girlfriends that I have known for years and some that I've just recently come to know and they are amazing.  I have found a deeper understanding with my girlfriends, a deeper trust than I have ever known before in my life.

Girlfriends Rock.

Have another drink...

I drank so much that as we were leaving the restaurant, I whispered to my husband who was rushing ahead of me, "hey, um... you need to hold my arm to lead me out of here.  I can't walk straight."  He held me tight to his side, walked me carefully down the stairs and scooped me into the car.  I laid down for most of the ride home, but sat up at one point because my head was spinning so bad, I thought I might just puke.  There I was, hanging my head out the window in the cool night air... mouth open, drooling... waiting for the puke to come.  So attractive.  It didn't happen.  The spinning did eventually stop - kind of miraculous, really, how my body handled the abuse.