Splendiferous Conventionality

I'm not sure I can do this. Well, I can do this-- typing and vomiting of words; but I am not sure that it will be worth the energy spent or your time to read it. Maybe you'll read that first line and agree and click the button for "next blog". Don't worry... I won't be offended. I might do the same. Or, I might be curious and keep reading. Either way- it's cool. (That's the chamomile talking. It's mellow.) There's really so much to say- but I don't really know where to start. I haven't written in so long and life has not slowed to catch up with my blogging negligence. The semester is almost over. I took on another 19hrs (stupidly I might add) as well as executive board on two organizations; bi-monthly volunteering for a very important non-profit, and chairperson for a community event that will hopefully occur next April. Needless to say it's no wonder the semester is over- I've barely had a moment to "see" it- its

i can't write now, although i want to. i feel the devil knocking on my door, breathing down my neck; with his hot, fervent breath making the hairs on my neck singe. "you can't do this. you're not strong enough. you're no different than anyone else, what makes you so special?" why i would bother to even entertain his thoughts, i do not know. maybe i am not strong enough... why can't i beat him away? oh, yeah... that's right; because through all of me that makes me 'magical' and hopeful; i am also considerably practical. blame it on my education, training; shiv... i bet we could chalk up a good percentage to life... i bust bust bust but i'm not knocking down any doors... i'm barely making dents in the walls. all that i do and exert energy for are all wonderful, meaningful things for life and life only... these are not career associations. i've never even held a job in the area that i am wanting to end up in-- not to mention,

I am annoyed. I am assuming it is due to my current health status, which I will try to be as vague as possible ; #1 being that I don't know much, and #2 it's just really too much information for the general and wide open public. I know that I am a mom, and in some circles that seems to 'entitle' them to share their spilt milk and bm scheduling mishaps; but honey, that ain't me. I am only here momentarily. Thought I'd give the ol' blog an update, and spit out a few words to keep the keyboard dusted. I'm in a sad state of affairs as far as mental statuses go, so I intend to keep this short. There's enough bs in the world (just turn on the 10 o'clock news)-- no sense in reading more melancholy mayhem here. I turned 32 yesterday. Next to 1983, it was probably the least awesome birthday ever. In 1983, my dad was supposed to take me to the circus. It was to be my first time ever. Instead, Kansas decided it'd be cute to not only have one, but TW

uncertainty at its finest. do not know, cannot speculate. should not assume. life changing potential. may not be, may be. waiting... waiting... waiting... twelve days. i wish i could turn off my brain. thought that i was unaffected. a tiny voice in the back of my mind tries to speak louder... i shush it, shoosh little voice; what do you know? i wait - a person who does not know me, who does not know how i have felt, what i have been through; will discover an unknown terror or a simple explanation-- and they will not be loyal to me, they will not hug me in response to my tears; tears of sadness or tears of joy-- they will not call me or send me a card to say sunny days, they will have no attachment other than another... so wait i will, and God willing, i will turn off my mind if for only a few hours at a time... and either way, i will be ok.

i should be doing nothing else but filling my brain with a ridiculous amount of sociology terms in preparation for tomorrow's test-- but quite frankly, i'm ready for the school year to be over and my brain has fastly stopped participating in regular school activities; mostly studying but especially retaining. i really really want to be involved mentally-- but alas, 4 1/2 months and almost 19 hrs later, i am tired. April was the busiest month i have seen in some time, and it looks as if May may be jealous of the attention i gave it; so it is playing copycat and i sit here and wonder when i may see some reprieve. [am i the only one who when seeing words spelled with an ie or ei in the middle, look it over and quietly say "i before e except after c"?-- ok, i figured. just me.] i'll make it- the semester is almost over. two weeks i think and i'll be off (of school) until fall. i should take summer classes, but i just refuse. i'm eager beaver when it comes to s

I should not be writing. I should be sawing some sort of log, or counting some sort of fluffy farm animal jumping fences, or be floating through the air in a cloud car on my way to Care-A-Lot... but I often do not do what is best for me. That time will come I suppose. I am in take-care-of-them mode. Them is broad and nondescript. Them  may be the kids, the neighbors, a sick friend, a recipient of my snail mail correspondence, homework, volunteering, organizations, housework, yard work, my husband... the cat. I am OK with this- it is my body and brain that are having a hard time adjusting. Sheesh. You'd think they'd know the drill by now. I mean really. I've only been doing it this way for the majority of my existence. I suppose I am getting better at it now-- at least I am healthier about it, and the people or items I am taking care of are healthier as well. It has been so long since I have really been careless with myself that it seems eons ago... and other than it m

there is a block. a square. a square block-- aren't most blocks square ?-- sitting between my shoulders. fascinating to me that this could occur with so much swirling around about the air between my ears. i have books to aid in these kind of things- but i just feel stubborn and do not want someone 'telling' me what to write. (sheesh) i have seen or heard many things lately that are certainly worthy of 'penning' but yet i can't. perhaps i can but haven't. i want to write something different. perhaps i can not because i have math (logic=letters) and a literature novel "A Little Yellow Dog" all running through my mind instead- keeping me free from creativity but rather focused on school as needed. hungry for semester to end but yet it is had made my stomach ache. when it ends, it will begin again. all that i have worked for will no longer be on the back burner, it will be moved up to the front and the temperature cranked. i have the map in front of m

my memory is failing me. if in fact it is true that our brains only use a certain percent, then it makes sense that when new information must be stored, old information must be cleaned out. kind of like a coat closet. one can not continue to stuff years and years of coats into that tiny space and expect it to function as a proper coat closet without items wrinkling and flowing out... ( apparently, in case you are wondering and/or are worried, this percentage thing is a myth ) but i wish most that i could have a choice in what should be 'replaced'... i certainly do NOT need to know how to beat Super Mario Brothers one, two, and three (including every extra life and warp zone). Although, i am pretty certain i earned a fair amount of 'cool' points from my son when i proved that i could do this still! Another bit of useless info stored in my grey matter- cartoon and television characters that i watched as early as age 4. What good are these memories? Sure it brings me

Reflection: Fatigued. I feel rather blank at this point. Spent from emotion on lessons and life events coupled with the routine stress of scholastic adventure. Standing at your hospital bed and seeing you so vulnerable, while suffering terribly from pain and the stresses associated with the unknown and assumable accompaniment of outrageous hospital bills within the discovery; I flashed back within my heart to two years before with one that we lost. I would be lying if I said I had felt strong, or prepared, or brave enough to stand beside those cold bars, and that thin mattress without distress for what might be. I prayed unconsciensly to God to better you absolutely immediatly and for it to be nothing or something small and uneventful. Your pain was mine, your tears I shared, and your fear I felt. Although I was greatly overwhelmed with the work I have to deal with this weekend- I could find myself nowhere else appropriate other than at your side. It felt absolutely necessary- and

"It all depends on how we look at things, and not on how things are in themselves. The least of things with a meaning is worth more in life than the greatest of things without it ." ~Carl Jung

A series of unfortunate events have followed me through these last two weeks or so- and although the pessimistic side of me is nipping at my ankles to turn my back on life, love, and hope; the optimistic and realistic sides have paired together to kick Miss Pess I. Mistic to the curb so the whole can function as best as possible under the current strains and circumstances. Once I outline them you may say to yourself- 'shiv. I've heard worse. hell, I've been through worse.'-- well, I say to you, kudos for surviving it and I wish for all involved your strength and perseverance. [ I have had worse moments as well-- but regardless of all my experience, some days are just flippin' harder to deal with than others ] I'd like to take the opportunity to preface this ( one of my pet peeves actually ) by saying one or two of these events may not be so hard to prevail with a reasonable sense of sanity-- all of these combined have worn a tired girl thinner. My daughter

i have much to say and no words to say it. i wish that i could do this a-la-Matrix sometimes- and just 'plug' in. i am learning Logic in my math class and for the first time in my life, ( shhh, its a secret ) i am actually sorta enjoying it! i have heartburn- it seems to stem from hunger- bodily functions and bodily needs should be optional or less time consuming and certainly less demanding.  i managed to reproduce two identical images of me- one male and one female- except they are already both on their way to being smarter than me, braver than me, and some day stronger than me. they are amazing, beautiful blessings. these two beautiful blessings have already made it possible that the rest of the universe will never see my true hair color again; for if it is true that stress causes gray hairs- baby, i be covered. i wish that cartoons were the same as when i was a kid, in the good ol days. that last statement just made me sound old. i am older than you. i st

The guitar strums behind me. I can hear occasionally notes that were once taught to me, but that I did not have the patience to follow through with. It alters between the moody and meloncholy to the upbeat riff of an Irish drinking shanty- to one being played that is ironic for the current situation. Tonight it's our way of speaking about what needs to be said but without any words. I guess I will settle for the company and although the elephant in the room is certainly taking up more than its fair share-- I have to succumb to not having control over it. I have seen many forms of love. I have love for my children. For my family. For my friends. For my cat. For humanity. The love I have for my husband is so incredibly different than any of these, but yet it encompasses these. However, out of all of these loves that we have for all these different  people (or animals)-- the one that seems to be the most difficult to maintain healthily- is the love for our spouse or significant othe

I am hoping that by the silence of the 'crickets' that it means my darling daughter finally found her way to dreamland. I have deduced that the more 'good' times that we have, the harder Sunday nights become for her. For a whole split second I consider "Mommy Dearest" in the event that it would make the transition 'easier' for them... then I come to my senses rather abruptly ("NO wire hangers!") and realize that in itself will bring other issues that are certainly ones that I do not want to be responsible for. There isn't a good answer, there isn't a perfect way to deal with it- we grit our teeth and do our best to make it through. My Sundays (every other) have been typically going like this: 9:15 pm: crickets chirping (ring tone) Me: *elated* "Hi!" Her: *happy enough* "Good night, Momma" Me: *positive* "Well, have a good day tomorrow and a good week. I love you, good night." Her: *hesitan

My birth mother Facebook messaged me to tell me that my half brother had a baby- well, he didn't- but apparently a woman carrying his child did. Two weeks ago I guess. The message literally consisted of this much information: "did you know that **** has a baby. he sent me a message with phone number. the baby was born 2 weeks a go. mom *****" Ok. Not that I am particularly surprised, mind you; its not like she is very detailed orientated to begin with... but rather frustrating message. I would love to be able to say that I am pleased, and that Congratulations are in order-- but um, I can't say that I feel either of these things. Saddened is probably a more accurate feeling. The last (well, one of the last things) that kid needed was a baby... you have to have your life in order before you can even begin to imagine what it takes to care for another life. The half sister (his whole sister) has 3- two of which live with the, hmmm, how do I put it professionally-- birth f

its actually a word. not just a Star Trek character developed for the movie The Wrath of Khan. i know. you are just itching for me to tell you what it means, aren't you? OK , fine. you asked so nicely and are sitting there so pretty- how could i say no? earwig (v): to annoy or attempt to influence by private talk So, she can earwig you, you can be earwigged , and they may be earwigging right this moment over the water cooler. i use that today (not only because it depicts a great mental picture AND makes my ears itch) but also because this is my private , secret spot to 'speak', so to speak . i find myself to be quite open here- but on the same token, i am still shielding. i do this. you do this. we all do this. its a defense mechanism and i'd venture to say its necessary for survival. if i said EXACTLY how i feel about all there is to be spoken here- you may find yourself with a bad taste in your mouth. i am human. i am not always a nice person. i am sometimes me

a faithless nation, a sick abomination, human infected, lost without direction, without hope; a lost generation i was a cradle Catholic. as far as i know, on my father's side- our entire family has been Catholic. i knew nothing else- did not understand or know much about other denominations. i heard their names; Protestant, Baptist, Episcopal, Lutheran, Methodist, and within the last 10 years, Muslim. but i knew little about what their 'faith' encompassed. i knew: baptised at birth, First Reconciliation, Holy Communion, Confirmation; and well, there are others that follow, but i did not complete them. i knew going to Confession on Sundays, praying the Rosary, Saints, Lent, long weddings, long funerals, and long masses of standing, kneeling, sitting, repeat. this education that i received from a very young age planted a seed that has blossomed into the faith i have today- and although i am no longer a practicing Catholic- i respect and relish in the reverence i have and

“Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.” -- Shel Silverstein i find myself forcing the pen- i have been instructed by the writer in a book i'm reading on writing to write a little everyday. regardless of the topic, or structure, or need-- just write. i thought it'd be easier. i actually feel like writing often, but its generally when i am in class, driving, or tending to my domestic duties. its not there when sit down and have the time. i will now explain this. i have given my own 'road block'. probably for the last 10 years or more, if i had to venture a guess. i don't know why exactly. i don't know what precise moment (or if there is one)- where i decided that i was mediocre, would only be mediocre, and shouldn't bother to try for more. i don't know if it was the compa

have you ever felt overwhelmed? not overwhelmed by bills, and stress, and all the components of a Calgon commercial-- but overwhelmed by something surreal, spiritual, supernatural? like your insides were being replaced by light and weightlessness and reverence? like if given the opportunity, you might change someone? not change someone because you don't like that they eat onions before bed, or they complain about your nuances, or they drink too much and you want them to stop-- but CHANGE, affect them for always. in the most positive of ways. monumental ways. like you had the capacity to wipe the slate clean of all the hatred, and hurt, and violence, and racism, and judgement from every one's mind if for only a moment, even a nanosecond? gawd, i've felt that way lately. especially today. maybe i should check the moon. or my hormones. or winter solstice. i want you to understand that what i am experiencing is not a "God complex". i certainly would never propose or a

its very hard not to write this in brain waves. random thoughts spurt out of my fingertips every time i sit here to expel what has run through my mind in a day. i don't want to do that. i really want to write something magnificent. i wish i could explain the feeling. if you are a musician or a painter, i think you can understand... when it hits you- that creative glimmer of possibility of something... amazing... all at your fingertips. half the time, it seems, that this occurs when the medium is not in front of you- so you have to 'hold' it until you get to where you can give birth to it. ok, i'll do both. first day of class. feel good about it thus far. as far as the expectation of the classes, and homework and tests and the possibility of achieving A's again. why do we write "A's" like that- as if it belongs to the A? is there another way that is more appropriate? oh, sorry... tangents come easy in this environment. instantly hungry. oh, i hate that

...at 30 minutes after the hour. a picture of two very familiar faces also indicate who this special call is coming from. i happily answer as i unfortunately missed its ring earlier. a little, beautiful, piece of me voice, half jokingly, half scolding asks why i didn't answer earlier. i explain that i was visiting and my phone wasn't near. she eventually accepts it, but then tells me disheartening news... My Heart: "I might have to start seeing my counselor, my counselor Jan again.". Me: "Oh?", (i try to muster out without alarming concern) >> did i fool her, or just myself? >> My Heart: "Yeah." Me: "Why's that?" My Heart: " Because I am starting to miss you again ." Me: "Oh." >> completely heartbroken >> "Well, that's ok. We all have to talk to someone sometimes. Maybe it will help. Does writing in the journal help at all?" My Heart: >> matter of factly >> "N

the heater is loud beside me, but it keeps this little bitty perfect office of mine from being a little bitty perfect icebox. Mystery Play I radio tells me a story of man vs ants (large large ants i am assuming) from 1950 something- when the cool shiv was on a box sitting in the corner of your living room, and people still used their imaginations instead of having it painted out for us on a new box blaring with lights, color, special effects, and a soundtrack from hipsters. a 180 sits almost empty reminding me that it is nearing its extinction- the idiots who make them have decided they aren't selling well enough (sheesh, would they like to see my check register!), so they are discontinuing them. i can't find another i like as well. this makes me not happy. i am addicted to Facebook. i enjoy seeing what's going on with my friends. and most of them are my real friends. it is nice to stay somewhat 'connected' when life keeps us all running. i have found long lost frie