Wiping the Slate Clean

I was reading one of my regular blogs tonight when something she said really hit home ... (L ... I hope you don't mind.)

This has always been the Petitioner’s “modus operandi”– the Petitioner consistently threatens and harasses the Respondent when he does not “get his way” while steadfastly refusing to comply with the Stipulations previously agreed to. Almost every letter the Petitioner has written contains the threat of taking the Respondent back to court, leaving the Respondent feeling she must comply with his demands.

Boy, have I been there, and it's like making deals with the devil and letting someone walk all over you, just to get a little peace in your life, so you can live it without full out drama all of the time. You give up on fixing things you know need to be fixed because you can't handle the stress. And it feels like you're handling it all alone. And no one has your back ...

For the past five years, I've ignored a pretty big problem, because I didn't want the stress of going back to court, and because I got tired of trying to fight all my battles on my own. I know those threats well ... The kind of threats some people make that make you decide not to rock the boat, because you know if you do, they're going to send some pretty big waves in your direction. And when you're only trying to stay afloat, the last thing you want are waves ...

But I'm making waves now. And I'm rocking the boat. And I'm saying you know what, do your worst, I'm not scared of you anymore. I've waited five years to stand up to you and even if the courts don't grant me every last cent you owe, damn it will still feel good.

So when we're sitting across from each other at that table tomorrow, and you're looking for someone to blame, take a really long look at yourself Pinnochio, and then maybe instead of being a wooden boy, you'll be a real man.

Just My Ten Cents

Well, I've started my Christmas shopping, not that I was nuts enough to attempt the 5 a.m. Black Friday morning rush. Working enough years in retail (during my younger days) gave me more than enough common sense to avoid that kind of pandemonium. And seeing the carnage on internet video more than secured my thoughts that no deal at any given WalMart store or any other of its ilk is worth getting up at the crack of dawn and subjecting my body to the trampling. Not my idea of a very Merry Christmas trying to knock someone else over for some gotta have toy ... Screw that. I don't even like to grocery shop during the holidays!

Because around here, it's quite obvious that the holidays do something to your head. Suddenly every moron who ever got behind a wheel is out and about, cutting and weaving through snow laden roads and heavy traffic. And every penny pincher is playing their own version of Mr. Scrooge in holiday lines that seem to go on forever as they argue with the cashier over the "Principle of ten cents" ... Get a clue people! There is absolutely no principle of saving your ten cents when you keep me waiting in line for over ten minutes! Move on and get over it or if need be put the damn item back!

For instance I tried to buy a new snow brush for my car the other day. But when I got to the register, wouldn't you know it, there was no price sticker on the item. Now I could have been a miserable bitch (I am getting quite good at it you know) and held everyone and their mother up for a price check but I said screw it. I wasn't about to waste my own time for some four dollar snow brush that I could probably get cheaper somewhere else anyway. You see, I have no principles. At least not when it comes to my holiday shopping ...

Swirling Patterns of Snow

The snow falls, swirls outside the kitchen window, dropping down in a diagonal fashion when the wind gently nudges its side. And though it seems as if it should stop - so much has fallen already - it just continues on, falling where it will and how it will with no thought to itself that by now the sky should be empty.

But the emptiness isn't outside.

The emptiness is all around us. In our hearts, our minds, our dreams, our beds ...

And every morning we wake up to this same emptiness. Feeling like a flame that with one breath can be extinquished from burning.

We are not on fire.

We are as cold as the snow that falls outside.

We are freezing from the inside out.

An Hour Before Dawn

I must call it a night early and get myself to bed. Though it's not a 12 hour road trip to North Carolina (though to be honest I wish it were) KC and I are taking off early tomorrow morning to head towards the mountains and Grandma's house.

The drive is pretty easy and as long as the weather holds off from dumping more snow on us than we need at the moment, it should be smooth sailing to and back.

So I'm off to bed ... Perhaps I'll find some good dreams to come and keep me company until morning.

And if for some reason some of you go away on holiday before I come back ...

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

A Beginning of Thoughts

Once upon a time ...

There were a thousand different stories. A million pages or more filled with names, and faces. There were fantastic tales of fantasy, and devastating memoirs of reality. And real commingled with imagined in such a way that it was hard to tell just where the line was drawn or crossed.

Once upon a time ...

There was an equal amount of light to compare with the darkness. And the darkness only lasted as long as it took for the sun to reappear along the horizon. And where there was no hope, hope still existed. It existed in solitary moments and in moments when you could be anything but alone, making its presence known like the first frost of winter, sharpening the fine green blades of grass into frozen portraits of stillness.

Once upon a time ...

We took chances to prove our worth. And gave in to the idea that our sense of worth was dependent on anyone other than ourselves. We sought perfection, only to prove that it didn't exist. And learned that happiness must be based on something more than somebody else's standards and ideals.

Once upon a time ...

We decided to live. To love. To laugh. To cry. To dream. To hope.

It's My Party ...

I'm thirty-one today. And it's strange to think that I could really be that old when it seems like it was just yesterday I was turning sixteen and learning how to drive my Mother's car. And the day before that I was running around half naked in the back yard with an Indian chieftain's hat on my head pretending I was a great warrior with a green cape wrapped around my shoulders.

It amazing to think that I'm really a grown up now. I remember when my Mom turned thirty-two and how old I thought she was. And now I'm just a year away from that same age and the truth is, I don't feel old at all.

Maybe the thing is that no matter what age you are, you're always who you were the day before. Even when I'm old and gray, I'll still be the same little girl with the big brown eyes and slightly mischievous smile ...

Where the Time Goes ...

I'm alive ... And breathing. And thinking of all the things that I'd like to write about again some time soon. But for now, I'm becoming familiar with this silence. This pulling together of thoughts, one by one, until sooner or later this page will await them all.

Don't give up on me. Some morning in the near future, when you sit down before your computer with your coffee in hand, looking for something worthwhile to read and waste a few minutes of your morning, something will be here.

I'll be here ...

Geeked Up

Just read a book that I thought was a good read ... I won't go so far as to say that everyone I know would care much for it at all, but tonight it was something that I was glad to have read. Perhaps what I needed was a new perspective after all ...

Night Swimming by Robin Schwarz

Unsent, Unspoken

Silence speaks louder than words. Censure alone speaks volumes. And it's what isn't said that does most of the damage. Because when we're forced to read between the lines, we draw a line that can't be crossed. Not by ourselves. Not by others.

If we're left to guess, we often guess wrong. We error in favor of what we think is sound judgment. Our interpretation of what is and what is not as we seek to understand. But all we do is redefine our language. And play back conversations in our minds. And wonder how something so simple as a sentence can go in one ear and out the other and remain misunderstood.

I cannot put my text in bold letters to make you understand. Your perception as you read will alter from my own. And what I'm saying will make no sense. But in my mind the wheels are turning, just as I turn from left to right, tossing in my bed with my desire to know what thoughts occupy your mind, and why it is your mouth moves with empty words.

Glitch In the System

Okay ... So here I am all ready to post and what do you think happens? I get so tired that all I can think of to say is that I need to go to bed ...

Damn ... Derailed already.