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Showing posts from September, 2009

Get Down to Brass Tacks

Just a short quip. Not much time before I have to leave. I don't want to go today. I want to sleep. The fire under my butt went out... or is dimmed anyway. I feel lazy. I feel unmotivated. I feel secluded. I feel defeated. I feel lost. I feel remote. I feel old. Speaking of this-- old. I see aging. I look down at my hands as they lay gracefully along the keyboard, and as they flit from letter to letter, announcing my thoughts-- and I see age. Creases, wrinkles, lines, pleats, crinkles, time and history. I recognize them on my face- on my furrowed brow, along my smile, tracing age from my eyes. I never thought I'd be concerned with this-- well, not never but not at my age. Just barely into thirties. Yet, it is there, and often I look down at my aging hands and am reminded of my mortality. That time continues on faster and faster, and each day I age a little more... and what I have I done with these thirty (one) years? Who am I? Where am I going? What have I done? I worry these

Skin Itches- its Not a Rash but I Need Medicine

my mind is whirling. seriously feeling out of control. a roller coaster without a stop switch. a one way ticket to on and on. for all those years i let it ride now its catching up to me. i can't stop. i can't stand still. i can't sleep at peace. i can hardly breathe. i want to do so much. but time seems so short. my heart too big my brain so full my pocket so thin. some one-- please help me off this thing.

If Someone's Asking...

... have you seen the "Safe Place Here" signs at QuickTrip? It is a yellow diamond shaped sign with what appears to be a blob type figure standing behind a smaller blog shaped figure. The larger shaped person is in an outline- and ironically the screws that keep the sign to the pole are in the right location for eyes. The smaller shape is a shadow, or all in black and it appears as if the larger blob with the creepy screw eyes- is manhandling the little shadow. Really!! It looks as if the "adult" in the picture is groping the "child" on the chest from behind!!! I am a grown woman and this did not make me feel safe in the least bit. I want a job assuring that signs are appropriate and useful! i have several others that are questionable... ...although i have noticed this one a time or two and had to say something. Now its said. Good day.

If I Were Cinderella, I'd be Pumpkin Pie by Now

i need to be in bed. eyes closed. sawing logs. probably dreaming real, distinct absurdities due to the night time cold medicine and one, A, (proud of myself) shot of tequila. should prove to be interesting sleep... but it is quiet. not completely. through the opened windows i hear the remains of summer, crickets and other noisy insects singing their hymns and love calls to one another. faintly from down the hall, i hear the repeated jingle of Spongebob Square Pants as it has reached the end of episodes, and now sits on the main menu-- playing the little flute chorus- well, i am uncertain if that is a chorus, but it is playing over and over again which is really the point i am getting at. the cat sits watch in the chair next to me. aware of any sound that doesn't sound as if it should be. the daughter dearest- asleep in our bed crashed out while i read her library book, Goosebumps, "Calling all Creeps". *a side note: she is reading on a 6th grade level (in the 3rd grade) a

Pardon my rambling- blame it on Phenylephrine HCI

its windy today. it wasn't earlier. but it is now. i sit outside in it regardless- semi sheltered by the trees and fences surrounding our yard. pretty soon the sounds of nature- crickets to my left and far off on the right, the wind rustling through the tree tops, and an occasional bird bitching at a squirrel- will be interrupted by the squealing pleasure of elementary students on recess. some days it takes a lot to even remember what that felt like- its been so so long. if i think hard enough i can remember a recess or two from every year- kindergarten we played "Gremlins" on the jungle gym. Nick, Regan, Sabrina, and i. i always got to be Gizmo. blame it on the fact that at age 5 my eyes were too big for my face. Nick sometimes played as Stripe but sometimes we got that kid who picked his nose and ate his snot to be Stripe. Then Nick would be my owner, and he would feel terrible that he gave me chicken after midnight when bad gremlins would pop out of me wrecking havoc o

The Infamous 'Hellmo'

A beautiful quote by my great-grandfather who passed away this last spring at the tender age of 94 after a long, amazing life: "Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving in a pretty, pristine body but rather to come sliding in sideways, all used up and exclaiming, "wow, what a ride!" If you knew him, or had ever met him, or had the privilege to share a few moments; perhaps over a Vodka on the rocks, or a Cape Cod; while discussing old times-- you would know he believed this wholeheartedly and fulfilled it as well. Miss you Double.

Inside this bubble, i can see but i am safe...

i see something we all face. at some point or another. i mean some may successful surpass this issue as an elementary student, middle schooler , high schooler , or even in college. some may attack and succeed in this fight as a younger adult... but some and most continue to suffer with this need to please, a need to be accepted, a want to be the best, but to be appreciated for who they really are- and who are we all kidding? when do we actually figure out who that person is?? probably well into one's sixties if we're lucky- but that my friends in my sincerest observations is entirely dependant on who were thought we were in our 20s, 30s, 40s and 50s. i can't tell you how many 'adults' i have met who said they wish they would have... followed dream A, B, or C... or all. Perhaps those that have found that ' ok - ness ' within themselves never stopped following their dreams. Maybe when someone tried to stop them in the beginning- telling them it "was fooli

Flies in the kitchen and a crazy cat...

Flies = II Ninja Fly Killa = VI Quiet. The house sits quiet. The children, my husband, even the cat are all asleep. I should be. Its very late. Well, very late if you have to drag butt out of bed while the sun is still sleeping in order to get your middle schooler to the bus and off to school on time. I am not a morning person. I think this has been determined through the time of day these blogs have been posted, and if you have ever caught me by phone or in person before ten a.m. It's not usually very pretty. More Medusa meets Cruella De'ville bred with a mother grizzly. My husband (and my children) can verify this data. So, I work at night. Its my time. My time to do it ALL. Homework, housework, whatever I can find that needs to be done. Sometimes, I even get to read during this time, and that is a real treat... love it but it is dangerous because I often find myself inside the story and by the time I pause to release my screaming bladder and stretch the tingly sleeping legs-