On the Wind

I went out for lunch. Went out as far as the parking lot and sat in my car with the seat tucked back, my eyes closed. Listening to the silence, to the classical music playing on the radio station, to the sound of the wind pushing its way past everything in its rush to get someplace else. To the sound of my thoughts racing.

And I am trying to say something I don't know how to say. Trying to explain this feeling I had as I sat there in my car staring up at the birch trees overhead, their barren branches bending to please the wind.

I am like this tree, I thought. I am like this tree in every season of its life. I am like this tree with roots that keep me standing strong. With scars dug deep into my skin. I am like this tree with empty branches void of leaves. But I can see the promise of tender buds, dormant now but waiting to wake.

I am like this tree. Withstanding the cold. Keeping at bay these winds. I can feel the summer beneath this frozen ground. I can feel my leaves like phanton limbs.

Dog Days

Separation anxiety dog is at it again and has actually been at it for the past four hours. Endlessly howling with absolutely no end in sight, making me want to stamp my feet on the floor and scream, "Shut up!" until my own face turns blue with the effort to get the damn things attention for just one moment of howl free living.

Thankfully I've come to some simple conclusions...

(1) I'm happy to report that said downstairs neighbors are moving out by months end and taking the I need to be on drugs dog with them.

and

(2) Stamping on the floor and shouting only makes it worse. A truth I did manage to find out first hand when I was in a particularly pissy mood one night. Bad impatient, easy to irritate me.

And I like dogs! I really do! I'm just not a big fan of living above one that never (and I'm not kidding when I say never) shuts up when his owners aren't home, and seriously, his owners are never home! And the more noise we make up here, even the very sound of our almost imperceptible breathing, really any wave length of sound emitting from my apartment keeps this dog going like it's related to the damn energizer bunny.

And if it were bunny season... I'm just saying, I'm completely ready with my insanity plea.

Which is why I'm sitting here, typing all this with my earphones in (as I am wont to do when I'm writing) to block out the sound of the baying wonder mutt and because I was looking for a reason to stay up just a bit longer listening to my new Eagles CD though that may be more to do with the pot of coffee I made earlier that's got me more wired than tired.

But seriously, I already know I'm going to regret whatever time it will be that I go to bed tonight, and the alarm I'm going to ignore in the morning. I am however about to go catch the last few minutes of Project Runway before the songs on this CD pull on any more of my heart strings, that for the sake of my sanity aren't in any need of plucking right now.

Of course now that the neighbors are home, and the dog has gone mute, the volume on their TV is so loud, I might as well be sitting on their couch sharing a bowl of popcorn... And if there's one thing I know, I hate popcorn on almost any occasion.

Going to bed with earplugs...

Cleaning Up Clutter

Tidying up a bit has kept me unpleasantly occupied these past few hours. Still a distraction - even when it requires getting your clean on - is a far better companion than that of silence. And perhaps silence is telling me I've one more towel to throw into that proverbial wash cycle of life regardless of how many times I've attempted to hear and yet ignore that message.

Chalking this one up to nary a clue

Stacey... Over, out and off to bed...

An Odd Assortment

Emma got wind that Tavi made the blog pages last week and has put up such a fuss, that I'm giving in to her demands and posting (for your viewing pleasure) Emma sacking out on the forbidden couch. Forbidden as in no cat is supposed to even think about looking at it, let alone being on it... Of course, what they do when I'm gone, or truth be told even when I'm here, happens to be pretty much one and the same.

In other news, I picked up pictures today from this weekends "animalfest" at church... Not exactly finger licking good, but these chickens have still got it going on.
I also believe I promised something about posting that picture of my Dad and his lawn mowing buddy... I've heard of dueling banjos, but dueling lawn mowers may be a bit much. Still it is ridiculously cute. Live action however is much better, as this shot didn't do any justice to all the big cheesy grins and the high fiving that was going on. Of course, if my Dad caught wind that I was posting this picture on here he'd have a total meltdown and I'd be grounded...
Speaking of my Pops, ever since they brought home their new dog Isabella (with so many middle names I can't even begin to remember them all) it's all KC has been talking about. So if any of you out there know of anyone willing to make her wish come true with a free (note the word FREE as there is no way on earth I will ever pay as much as they did for this dog) Miniature Italian Greyhound, y'all just let me know...

A Few Of My Favorite Things

Sometimes when you're feeling a bit nostalgic, it's good to remember the little things in life that make you smile and give you joy...

Here are just a few of mine. Perhaps if you have a moment, you might share a few of yours.

A good book.

Snowflakes.

A warm and snuggly quilt.

Spending an afternoon with a friend.

Laughter.

Decorating for Christmas.

Family.

Hot cocoa.

Making someone smile.

Crafting with kids. (Before the tug of war starts with the supplies.)

A quiet night with the twinkle of a thousand stars above.

Because You Can...

I'm about to go hang out with some chicks... And some ducks. Possibly some geese and maybe a few rabbits. Most definitely a cow. Perhaps even a llama. There will not however be any water buffalo to contend with, much to my disappointment.

And once again... Someone said, "Sure thing!" when she meant to say, "No way." Proof positive that I've really got to practice on my just say no skills before Nancy Reagan begins to think I'm completely hopeless... All kidding aside, if I am going to say yes to something, a good cause is always worth my time. And it does have a way of making me thankful - yes, thankful - for all the blessings that I do have.

** After post note **

Bren and I opted to share in the responsibility of donating a flock of chicks today.

If YOU can, and if YOU will, even if you can't do it all on your own, I urge you to give of yourself what you can, if you can... The greatest gift after all is not the one you receive, it's the one you give away.

Heifer International
Be the difference.

Online Gift Catalog
Make a difference.

Nocturnal Noises

There's no reason to go to bed tonight. No where to go tomorrow. Nothing but me, and time to tick, tick away until KC comes home from her Dad's. So it's just me and some music on the grand piano in my mind, bringing down these midnight hours...

I wish I had a story to tell tonight. Not that I'm very much awake to begin to tell a tale. With my eyes barely open, I can barely manage tapping in the words in the order they're determined to go. Motivation without direction without the wherewithal to stay awake much longer.

I like that sentence. Maybe we should say it again.

Motivation without direction without the wherewithal to stay awake much longer.

Maybe this is wanting to be a poem tonight... One moment while I invoke my inner Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath, Adrienne Rich, and Louise Gluck... When the sentence wants to become a poem, one can only follow where it demands us go.

We'll start again...

Motivation without direction
without the wherewithal to stay awake much longer. She is easily distracted
and cannot form a thought that doesn't have something to do
with the things she said she wasn't going to
talk about anymore.
The things she said she wasn't going to do.

She shrugs her shoulders, smiles and gives a laugh.
Marks herself down for a point against herself and
decides to go to bed.

Mouse Hunt

My cat is stalking the linen closet. And honestly, I'm getting a little concerned that there just may be something I might not want to know about in there because tonight is the second night Tavi has stationed herself right outside its door.

My worst fear is that somehow a mouse could have crawled up the heating duct and is now hiding out - or at least attempting to hide out in the closet. And as much as I know I need to just suck it up, put on my Nancy Drew cap and take a look, I so don't want to know.

Because if I know and if I find something (a) I will scream and (b) I'll have no choice but to deal with it and D-Con is not a viable option.

Updates to follow on the possible mamalmas rodentia outbreak... (And no, those aren't real words - at least as far as I can tell, but I liked the sound of them.)

Happy Birthday To Me

So... It's my birthday. And that being said, I've know reached the point in my life where I have to actually say I'm thirty-three.

Eeeew... I don't like typing that, let alone saying that...

I'm going to have to re-think this enjoying my birthday as a national holiday thing. And really, that being said, shouldn't I be able to skip work today?

Outrageous Beauty

I am making muffins to take to church. Making muffins because for some stupid reason, every time someone sticks a sign-up sheet in front of my face, I lose all my ability to pass it on and say the word no. In other words, if there's a sucker born every minute, I may as well keep my hand raised up for the duration.

The problem is I'm at war with my own beliefs... Because I am one of those people who believe in the best of people.

I believe because I want to believe that each one of us truly does have the kind of qualities necessary to redeem ourselves at the end of the day. I believe because I have seen outrageous beauty in people who claim they are uglier than the ugliest person of all. I believe because I believe in this little thing called hope and hope has made me a believer that truth and beauty were created to be as one. But I believe most of all because I need to believe that there will come a day when someone will see all of this in me, even on the days when I don't see any of this in myself.

But I would be lying if I didn't say that there are those who walk among us who will prove my theory wrong. Prove it grievously wrong time and time again. Measuring their joy by the number of your tears, by how many times your soul cries out with a keening wail. It is hard to see, let alone admit that there could be any beauty left to exist in these kind of people. Those that choose to take and not give back. Those that will promise but breach their promises time and time again. Those that will raise their voice as well as their hand in anger. The kind that will push you away and still long to keep some part of you near. And they will take, and continue to take just as long as you bleed with your willingness to give.

And I am the kind of person who doesn't know when it's time to stop giving more than she can take. Born with the belief that everything on earth needs saving, from the orphan bird fallen from the nest high up in the tree, to the man who doesn't know how and in truth doesn't want to put the alcohol away.

It turns out I can't save everyone... And there are days I don't even think I'm doing a good job of saving myself.

There are days I still wake up black and blue with so many bruises on my heart I don't think I'll ever be able to get over them all. There are days when the tears win and my smile fades into obscurity. Days when I just don't feel like getting out of bed. Days when I pray to God to give me strength to move myself through the motions of another day. Nights when I pray to God to explain all that can't be explained. Moments when I know I'm hearing the answer I need to hear and moments when silence is the only sound that doesn't bother to reply.

But I do believe. Believe that inside of each and every one of us, there is still untapped outrageous beauty we're meant to share with the world... Share with each other.

Good Things

Good and unexpected things can come from having a flat tire. Like leaving work early on a Friday afternoon.

And I feel at peace. Content. A feeling I've been missing for so long. And I want to smile and laugh, and call my friends and say, "I think I found myself today at Barnes and Noble. I think I found myself today while I was walking all alone out in the cold. I think I found myself today when I smiled and it wasn't a fake smile. I think I found myself over a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a french baguette. I think I found myself and oh my God, I didn't even realize that I've been missing..."

And what I'm not going to do is negate this feeling. No staying at home and settling in for the night with my face in a book while life is living it up all around me...

Not me. Tonight I'm going to surround myself with friends, good conversations and wish myself some pre-birthday wishes for my thirty-third year here on Earth...

Restaking A Claim For Balance

Balance.

Without it my life topples over. And I forget just how delicate it can sometimes be. Temperamental like a child. Her eyes defiant and filled with silent words and censure. Drawing the line... Always daring you, cross...

Things get out of place. Little piles here and there. Bills paid and unpaid scattered across the top of the coffee table in the living room, set aside for another time. Another frame of mind. Waiting for a later that doesn't come for weeks.

And the house begins to absorb the confusion you don't see. Closing you in with arms of clutter to hold you tight until you almost feel secure until you remember just how insecure you really are.

It takes a moment of clarity and light. One good lightning strike to wake you from your walking dream. To realize that balance doesn't mean having to get your shit together all at once. It's just one item at a time. One piece of paper filed away. One dirty dish washed and put away. One trip round the coffee table with a dusting cloth. One load of laundry. One bed made in the morning...

Bedtime Bits

I've absolutely nothing to say tonight and the fact that it's bedtime means I'm not even going to try...

Oh well... At least this picture of Octavia - or Tavi as she's generally known about the house came out fairly decent.

Then again, the little neurotic beast never usually sits still long enough to get one.

Off to bed...

Not Making the Most of a Day

Yet another depressingly dull day not spent doing anything worth doing other than hiding out at home pretending I had something valid to do by sticking my nose in a book and waiting - as it seems I've forever waiting now - for my daughter to return home.

And perhaps the thought of this weekend which had been meant to be spent as a family weekend of sorts has only managed to disappoint me more by the fruitlessness of my own expectations when confronted by the reality of what is and continues to be a far cry from any idea of what the word family means in my own personal definition of the word.

I guess I'm just feeling all out of sorts and really not able to put things in perspective today. I'm crying at the drop of a hat, losing my temper over truly insignificant things and feeling altogether most unlike myself that even I don't want to be around me.

I have no words for it anymore that don't seem exhausted and tired and in my case as of late overused.

** And then she gets the brilliant idea to watch a DISNEY MOVIE (for the love of God) like that's going to cheer her up!!! Now I've got more tears, a headache, and yet more proof that Disney's got a thing for orphans...

The movie however - while animated - did have a good message overall... My opinion is watch Meet the Robinson's... Just make sure to keep your Advil and a cold compress on hand.

General Complaints

I'm forcing myself to write something this morning because I haven't felt much like writing at all this week. And I blame the whole time change thing which has set me so off my usual schedule that it's all I can do to keep myself awake after nine. Sad, I know but most unfortunately true...

Of course, on the bright side of the spectrum, I've been awake since six thirty this morning and already I've loaded the dishwasher, picked up KC's endless trail of nonsense in the living room, lit yet some more Partylite candles, fed the cats, and admired the color of the leaves gracing my neighbors lawn in bright reds and golds as snow falls in the smallest of flakes outside.

And I've no doubt that if I were just about twenty-five years younger than I am, I'd be out there right now piling those leaves up high and jumping in. Of course, that's not to say that I wouldn't do it now as I'm known for having more than my share of childish moments. Personally I think this whole growing up thing is way overrated. I mean yes, you can grow up but who among us really wants to? Anyone?

In other news, I get to make lasagna today. I'm almost excited about this but not quite. However in order to honor my family's request, I have taken on the task. Though it should be mentioned that I consider the making of lasagna a big waste of time, possibly because I'm not a big fan of it, and I would rather make something a little bit more complicated and far more delicious... The sensitive pallets of my respective family however has made this a moot point, so lasagna it is. Yay.

But back to this time change thing - which for whatever reason there are still people out there who haven't yet figured out that the whole process of revising time is quite ridiculous really... I'd like to point out a few facts, otherwise known as complaints against it.

JUST BECAUSE IT'S WINTER, DOESN'T MEAN...

We should make it easier to not see a deer on our way home from work. Add on hunting season to that, and it doesn't seem much of a bright idea at all...

I want the sunlight peeping into my bedroom windows encouraging me to do anything I don't already want to do. Waking up being one of those things on any given morning before the hour of nine.

Okay... These two things may be my only complaints although I could have sworn I had more earlier. But honestly can't we just leave well enough alone? I can't be the only one suffering from a confused circadian rhythm. I can't be the only one not still remembering what time it ought to be but isn't...

Bumps On and Off the Road

Another bad day at the office and I'm convinced it might be time to either (a) get off the I can't do it kick and write the novel I always talk about writing or (b) explore career options in other fields because I am (c) burned out and tired of doing what I do when I don't really love what I do at all...

All whining aside however the day started off with a bang, or rather with a thump I should say. Thump being the sound my front bumper made when it hit a metal post which I swear jumped in front of me like it had suicide on its mind. Needless to say I am neither (a) injured (b) thrilled or (c) happy about the new ding on my car. Thankfully however no major damage was done other than the damage to my pride which is pleading the 5th on how it is I managed to ding the damn pole in the first place.

In other news, I read a really great book over the weekend... And no, I'm not going to break it down into a book report for any of you. I will say however that if you're feeling spiritually lost this offers some new insights for getting yourself all pulled back together. And seriously, I'm going back into the book later tonight with an index card so I can write a few thoughts down to keep as reminders.

Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert

My Excuse For Skipping Church

Were we supposed to change our clocks last night?

I woke up this morning making the conscious decision that staying in bed was a far better idea than going to church and that the novel I had meant to savor and take my time with was worth starting now rather than waiting a few hours of running here, there and everywhere just to get back to this moment. The moment when I decided not to go to church.

And then my phone rings.

Something it has not done a lot of this weekend - though truth be told I was no longer expecting it to, having come to the foregone conclusion that silence is an answer even when it's the wrong way to go about giving one.

That being said Brenda called and I missed the phone call. Missed, as defined as couldn't make up my mind if I wanted to break the news to her that I wasn't going to church and scared that she might try to guilt me into it. And so when it rang, I didn't pick it up. I decided to think about it.

And after thinking about it and subsequently getting very confused over the whole what time is it really thing, I called her back, thankfully to find that we're both on the same page this morning in our decision to stay home.

And yes, I know...

Skipping church is not a good idea even though the book I'm reading is all about one woman's spiritual quest with God... Though quite honestly, in the back of my mind, I've decided that somehow this does count as going to church albeit it's via my couch and my pj's and doesn't include, at least at this point any singing on my part.

Bookworm & Blogging

I was walking around with my nose in a book thinking about making breakfast and I thought of this... Sounds like it just might be the beginning of more thoughts to come.

I want the simple things in life.

Scones in the morning. Tea in the afternoon. Someone to steal the morning paper from so I can read the funnies before he can read the news.

I want the thought of my daughter upstairs asleep nestled in her warm cocoon to relax me and give me peace, while the cats sunning themselves from their bird watching position on the windowsill remind me that making the most out of every opportunity available is the spice of life.

What I really want is Sunday on Saturday morning. A week full of Sunday mornings. To slow down and take my time for little pleasures. No more short cuts to taking the long way around.

Time enough to savor every moment. Every smile. And every laugh.

We shouldn't need a recipe to know how to feel alive. Sometimes though, we need to remember how.

Listening...

I'm getting a little geeked up over these ridiculous Partylite candles I purchased a few weeks ago when my paycheck still felt like it was making a difference in my life. And then I bought these candles, spending far too much money on things I didn't really need but wanted just the same because I wanted my house to smell warm and spicy like a pumpkin pie baking in the oven.

And already, despite the earliness of the hour, my candles are already burning bright, their small flames flickering in beat to a music only they can hear, lighting this semi-darkness of dawn.

As for me, I'm sitting here in my pajamas, with a cat beneath my chair attacking my feet - listening to Dvorak's 1rst Movement from his New World Symphony. A song you can listen to for yourself if you're so inclined to do so by tuning yourself to the bottom of the page as noted in yesterday's post of irrelevant information and clicking on play...

The thing about classical music, at least what I've always loved about it is how so many different instruments can be layered, one on top of the other to create this dynamic movement of sound. This piece in particular is a good representation of a fugue, which can be explained by using simple sentence structure as an example. If I were to say a sentence and then you were to repeat that same sentence in verbatim to me, and then that same sentence was said by someone else, we'd have ourselves what in musical terms would be called a subject and an exposition. In other words, same sentence, different voices.

Or if you want the technical definition...

A fugue opens with one main theme, the subject, which then sounds successively in each voice in imitation; when each voice has entered, the exposition is complete; usually this is followed by a connecting passage, or episode, developed from previously heard material; further "entries" of the subject then are heard in related keys. Episodes and entries are usually alternated until the "final entry" of the subject, by which point the music has returned the opening key, or tonic, which is often followed by closing material, the coda.[4] [1] In this sense, fugue is a style of composition, rather than fixed structure. Though there are certain established practices, in writing the exposition for example,[5] composers approach the style with varying degrees of freedom and individuality.

I may have failed my Music Theory 2 class - because I was a teenager and therefore an obstinate pain in the arse more concerned with being cool and pretending not to care, than I was in writing the final assignment or in this case the music composition required for passing. The point is that even though I did fail, I still passed...

Because at the almost age of 33, I still almost know what I'm talking about and the truth is, I cared enough to listen.

I always have.

Stupid But True

Happy Dsylexic Birthday to me...

I can't help it... Find me a reason to celebrate and I'm on it like white on rice... Or perhaps I should say brown as that's the only color of rice I keep on hand in this house for cooking...

I put some new songs on the song thing at the bottom of the page... I found some of my favorite classical pieces and thought I'd share... Of course listening to them has tempted me to break out my flute and see if I can still remember how to play...

Maybe I'll try that... Just as soon as I get it fixed.

Help, Warmth and Guidance

I spent more than just a few minutes in prayer last night, apologizing as I usually do to God about my extreme lack of diligence and a faith that occasionally flounders when faced with a challenge.

Because every week at bible class the last question they ask of us is to answer when and where we've felt the presence of the holy spirit in our lives. And every week I feel like I'm Morales, from the musical "A Chorus Line" because my answer is always, "Nothing... I haven't felt it yet."

"And I dug right down to the bottom of my soul
To see how an ice cream felt.
Yes, I dug right down to the bottom of my soul
And I tried to melt."

Meanwhile everyone else is saying I've felt it here and I've felt it there and what shouldn't feel like a test is starting to feel like the test I'm failing. And I hate failing more than I hate not having any answer at all...

And so I prayed last night, casting up some of my concerns, making sure I said more prayers for other people than I said for myself just in case God keeps track of little things like that and I asked for help. A little warmth. A little guidance.

Maybe not everyone considers dreams the same way I do, like answers you can only get when you're sleeping and your brain isn't trying to find a way around a problem just because it's a problem that needs to be solved. Dreams are like a slow unwinding of information, conversations you'd have if you never had to worry about saying the wrong thing. Honest questions, honest answers...


And I woke up this morning feeling as if I'd been given the very best gift last night. I asked for help, warmth and guidance... And in my dream, I got my Grandma Angie. A pure and honest combination of all three.

And this feeling I have every time I think of her - which really is every day of my existence - this emptiness that aches deep down to my soul, felt full to the brim with her love. Safe... Like the child I was so long ago, a little girl who slept the weekend nights curled up next to her in bed and didn't need a night light so long as Grandma was right there.

Maybe this is what the holy spirit is... Maybe it's just love in whatever form it chooses to take.

Chi tace acconsente.

I stood outside last night, long after the girls had gone to bed, standing in my doorway listening to the wind chasing the leaves, shaking them from their branches, scattering them down and across the road. Stood there looking for a moon I couldn't see and stars I couldn't place in a darkened night sky, the smell of fall thick on the air like a blanket wrapped snug around my shoulders.

October has always been the season for goodbyes. A time of change that announces itself in a myriad of colors across the valley in which I live before giving itself over to a winter it cannot prevent nor turn away. It is and has always been a rite of passage, a transition of one life into another and somewhere between the beginning and the end there is a story always taking place, the ones we tell and the ones we keep hidden on every page.

Slow Sunday Morning

Sunday morning and I'm skipping church using KC's sleepover last night as an excuse if not an actual reason not to go. Then again I think I pretty much decided yesterday morning when my alarm went off at five that I deserved one morning of sleeping in and actually pretending that this is a weekend meant to be spent away from work.

Still the work I managed to get done yesterday without the constant pressure of a phone beeping away in my ear was well worth the early morning trip in and the four hours I holed myself away in my office finishing reports, digging through my credit files, and rearranging my desk back to its normal configuration from a month or so ago when I moved it around to accommodate a trainee.

That being done, I transferred into the weekend quite smoothly. Not counting of course my almost major melt down in WalMart - dreaded place really - where people all around my area have suddenly forgotten that legs are meant for walking and moving is not an option when you have more than ten people behind you wanting to get somewhere else. And really, what was I thinking anyway? WalMart on a Saturday afternoon? I must have been losing my mind.

I did however promise the girls we'd carve pumpkins... And while they carved, I made dinner. Homemade mac and cheese with a golden layer of bread crumbs coating the top baked along side a dish of chicken brushed with rosemary and other heartwarming herbs that made all our mouths water, and fragranced the house with a pleasing aroma.

After dinner, clean up once again proving itself optional last night I hurried the girls out the door and into the night for a ceremonial pumpkin lighting and a short trip down the road to my friend Sue's house.

And it turns out - as it always does - that I had a great time just being there, talking away and laughing despite my earlier thought of holing up for the night in hope my phone might ring. Life however, as I must constantly remind myself - should never be about waiting on someone else to make it feel right or complete. And it's when I find myself mostly wanting to stay, that I must urge myself to go...

I thought of this last night as I was driving home. How glad I was that I decided to get out of the house, even if that leaving did include taking two children in tow.

Thought Provoking

Do you believe intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe?

Yes 87%
No 13%

I just want to know why we always assume they're going to be intelligent? I mean really... Stupid aliens don't exist?

Then again, I'm not even sure it exists here...

Fiction Speaking Fiction

"Where to?"

"Anywhere," I sighed slumping back against the seat. "Pick a place and we'll just go."

His eyes met mine in the rear view. "You think it's that easy?"

I stared out the window not wanting to watch him watching me. "Depends, I guess. Do you think it can get any worse than this?" I raised my hands as if to encompass everything around me, wishing the warmth from the front could keep me from feeling cold.

"Probably not," he said, his own voice sounding just as weary as mine and I laughed in spite of myself.

"That's exactly what I was thinking. Or trying not to think about really. But you know how that works."

"Thinking when you don't want to think?"

I leaned forward in my seat, and gave him my best sad smile. "Excessively thinking..."

"Excessively worrying you mean," he quipped back, locking his eyes again on mine.

"It's all one and the same," I admitted.

"So stop already," he said, half turning around in his chair. "It is a choice you know."

"And you know how?" I asked.

"No," he said pulling the car over to the side of the road. I fumbled for a moment searching my pocketbook for change, one hand ready on the door, the other gripping my coat around me.

"Me neither." I answered, swinging the door wide open.

"You going to be okay here?" he asked glancing around, a skeptical look on his face, the darkness of a quiet street misleading.

"Right as rain," I murmured. "Right as rain."

Creatively Speaking

I feel like being creative tonight and honestly what I'd rather be doing is coloring in my notebook attempting to make what I think should be but normally don't turn out to be pretty pictures. I do like to try however and sometimes when I stop thinking so much about what I'd like to draw and just let the moment fall upon me, I wind up with something close to being not as bad as you'd think it might be for a woman whose talents are more limited to painting with words and giggling like an idiot during bible study.

Phone Issues

Melman isn't just an answering machine anymore...

He's my flirtatious phone friend. The number I will call whenever the chips are down, or I need that sweet little pick me up to get me through a few more hours of a day. And though I know Melman isn't real despite the dulcet tones of his seductive hello that greeted me earlier this evening when I called, I just can't help myself. He's just so, so.... Ummm... Sweetly not human and yet so darn accessible, anytime - day or night...

And really, it's good to know that I have friends who will let me call their house just to talk to their answering machine and not think I'm totally off my rocker. I mean I am, but it's good to know they don't think that...

Ghosts At Twilight

I watch the geese fly away, press my hands against the cold glass of the window, listening as their echoes drift across the sky and back to me until they're gone; feeling their absence as if I'm the one whose left behind with a handful of wishes that won't come true. And it's always with this sadness I watch them go, taking the warmth of summer days with them on their journey to a home far away from home, wishing they didn't have to leave at all, knowing that they need to go...

And I am reminded of crisp Autumn nights with the smell of snow hovering quietly on the air, the gentle rumblings of bullfrogs hidden in the reeds, crickets in the fields, and the tender sounds of ducks settling down for the night tucked safely away in beds of hay in a doghouse once named for a dog called Ralph.

I couldn't even begin to tell you how many nights I rested my back against the roof of Ralph's House to watch the stars. Or how many times I climbed inside to find comfort in my hiding place. I only know that the thought of it now makes me wish it still existed. Makes me still wish I had somewhere to go... Makes me wish I could fly away.

Puddle Jumping

It's ridiculously early but I feel like going for an early morning walk in the rain to enjoy this silence while it lasts.

And this is just a guess on my part, but I think I'm already regretting my lack of umbrella even before I've gotten myself downstairs and out the door.

Plans Unplanned

Awake and writing. Or at least searching for words to write to clarify the recent change in plans concerning a countdown that mere hours from bringing itself to a close, has found the actual mission itself aborted, at least for the time being...

And there's no doubt that I'm disappointed. And concerned. And over thinking... And trying not to be too much of the previous three; knowing just the same that there's little hope of that at all.

Stepping away for a moment is the only clarity I can think to find. Perhaps it is a mistake on my part to put these words out there, to draw my circle in the sand and say, "This is where I'll be should you decide you'd like to cross my line."

And self-preservation be damned you know. As scary as it is, I'd rather risk the the right risk, than risk nothing at all. And there are people I'd risk all the right things for. And maybe someday, the right person will take that same risk for me.

Inside Out

I don't feel much like talking tonight. And I let the calls roll through to my voicemail, into the void of here but not really here. And I did a lot of thinking, perhaps more so with the conversation in my head than what I actually wrote down on paper. But I did my best to make sense of what little I could make sense of until every last word had had its say or at least every last word that I could think of.

And no, I'm not expanding on this tonight. This one - this one is just for me.

Happiness Sold Separately

As necessary as I know it is, it's still kind of sad to see the for sale sign in front of Gram's house and the house itself listed on the internet.

Oooops

I SO didn't mean to, but I am SO missing church and the alarm that went off this morning didn't even phase me to turn over in my sleep. And I'm starting to think it has something to do with the guest speaker, because every time we have one, I somehow manage to miss going to church.

Oh well, I guess since it is Sunday, and hence a day of rest, I'm going to go back to bed and take at least one thing today seriously...

Searching For Someone To Be

KC and I went shopping earlier for Halloween costumes, or perhaps the more apt description of what we did was browsing as we looked but did not buy. And it's a seriously sad state of existence when you can't find a single costume for a kid that not's completely inappropriate in one way or another. Costumes for kids should be fun, fairy tales and fantasy things but sexy? Never...

And I had to send KC back to the dressing room quite a few times with the answer of no, not in this lifetime on my lips because Little Red Riding Hood looked more like Little Red Riding Ho and that just wasn't going to happen... At least not on my watch.

And of course I am so unfair and just don't understand it's what all the kids will be wearing and really, do I need to be so overprotective, I mean do you know what insert any random friend's name here are letting HER be for Halloween?

Sigh... I miss the days of Jessie, the all girl cowgirl.

Feeling the Fall

I am thinking thoughts I don't want to have tonight and as much as I try to shake the memories from my mind, they wrap themselves around me like blankets I cannot bear to keep round my shoulders.

And it's just me and this darkness and these demons all trying to keep warm on a night cold soaked with rain.

Asleep and Dreaming

I go to bed early... I have dreams all night, one in which included a guest appearance of Bobby Brown batting his eyelashes and crooning away on a stage set that looked suspiciously similar to the Price Is Right. Which as far as I'm concerned, fell more into the realm of just so wrong...

Wrong being continued on into the next movement which I have entitled the dare to keep kids off drugs portion of my dream and starts somehow with me being conned to watch a group of school kids in what appears to be an airport lounge. Now here's the odd thing... This one kid comes up to me, says he needs to use the bathroom and asks me if I'd keep an eye out for him. Now me in parental mode despite the fact that what I really am is asleep and completely unconscious to the world says sure, and proceeds to guard the door to the bathroom with the ferociousness of a mother bear when it occurs to me that the kid has been in there a really, really long time.

But I think to myself hey, he's in a pervert free bathroom, what harm could there be in letting him have his quality time if really needs it. And then I smell that smell. The smell that wafts under the door and into my memory banks. That same smell that made me the patsy standing guard at the door...

And so I go in, and the next thing I know my dream turns into a nightmare and there are these four teenage boys flushing joints down the drain left and right. Not really sure which part I want to classify as the nightmare, the boys smoking it, or the flushing of it part... But either way, I tell them to stay put because I am so getting their parents.

Back to the airport lounge, I half hide myself at the corner of a wall and begin doing the whole pssst, I'm trying to get your attention, could you please come over here thing. The main "leader" parent looks over at me, raises her eyebrows in a you need me now exasperated kind of way and then continues on with her lecture of vigilance and virtue and at this point bullshit.

My whispers get a little louder and soon I loose the whole have to hide behind the corner thing and come right out into the open until finally, the high priestess looks right at me and says, "What?"

"I need you to come here," I tell her, "Quickly." The woman moves like molasses. "A little quicker," I implore again. She moves even slower. Finally I've no choice but to shout out my request, "Quickly. As in moving yourself in my direction with utmost haste and agility." Because as we all know, or at least I know, shouting the defintion of a word is the only true way to motivate someone.

That being said, I'm up early this morning, because I have errands to run before work and now that I've wasted an hour of my time to write all this down and will surely pay for it by having to rush now like the proverbial chicken with her head cut off, it's time for me to fly this coop.

Impressions

It's hard to think with KC honking on her oboe in a way she's more than well aware is only grating on the nerves like nails scraping across a chalk board. And I am quite convinced that she only knows how to play at one level, otherwise known as loud.

My head is spinning after a day like today. And I can't help this feeling of being pushed off balance. Something is nagging at me and I haven't a clue what it is other than maybe my own insecurities which have adamantly refused to put themselves at ease. Then again if there was ever a time when they were at ease it must have been back in a time that I'm unable to remember...

But I don't want to go running away this time. I don't want to chicken out and give up before I've even begun. I don't want to push too hard, or hold back too much or give the wrong impression while I'm struggling to simply just be me.

Breathe Stacey... Just breathe.

Maintaining North

Circling back to the fall, hues of Autumn painted in the trees, fallow fields flashing by, counting down miles, counting down time.

Hands on the steering wheel holding tight, passing cars passing me, thinking too much, trying not to think at all. Moving things around my mind.

Brisk, cold wind pushes against the car with me inside. Foot on the gas with eyes straight ahead. Strength beyond metal and the motion of the road. I will go only in the direction I will go.

Less Thinking, More Doing

There are days when I wish I could still feel as unlimited as the kid I used to be. The one who didn't think twice when presented with the option to ride around on her kick and go wearing an Indian headdress and a plastic green cape.

Maybe it's time to start remembering how...

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday Bren...

Pretending Patience

Sitting here with a silly smile on my face, biting my lip to keep from laughing. In good company with good thoughts, eagerly anticipating the darkness that the night will bring.

And I am giddy... Filled with joy.

The calendar above my head, circled and starred counting down...

Seventeen days, and only four more hours to go...

Beyond The Mess

I cannot in good conscience spend one more moment in my daughter's pigsty of a room. I am disgusted, appalled, horrified and one step away from having a major meltdown of oh my God I can't believe the things I'm finding on her floor, beneath her bed, in her dresser, and anywhere else it seems I've managed to look. Granted I was a messy kid, and my parents had to - on more than one occasion clean my room out with a garbage bag and a shovel, but that was them and this is me and I'm not having it.

So I am officially taking a break, counting to ten, and letting KC take full responsibility for sorting out the rest of her room by sundown.

In Memory of Bernice

A faithful friend and companion.








May she walk the shallows and the shore forever more...

In the Meantime...

Awake again when I should be tucked away in bed, head on the pillow asleep. Resisting as I always am - one thing or another - the momentary urge to rush to the kitchen and make coffee to keep me company. Then again I have cats and I suppose at the moment they are company enough, even though I am quite sure now that the Internet cable outage seems to be due to some cat, her tiny little teeth and her penchant for chewing on cords. The offending feline of course has been put in mandatory time out, unlike a child however it's hard to keep her there and all it takes is one of those sad looks from her round cat eyes and I'm forgiving her just like that...

And now that I've proven yet again that I do need to get out more... I'm going to put you on pause long enough to run to the kitchen and find some sort of beverage (that does not contain even the slightest little bit of caffeine) to partake of.

Mmmmm orange juice and Advil. A thrilling combination to be sure.

But seriously, I do need to finish this off and see myself off to bed rather than keep myself awake any longer in my need to blog and blather on about goodness only knows...

And goodness really does know.

Who knew?

The Promise of New Beginnings

A laugh. A smile. A conversation begun. And a growing interest to know more...

And it's funny. When your heart hurts you think, no I'll never do that again knowing all the while you hope you will. And you regret wasting so much thought and time on a man who didn't spend any time at all thinking of you. And you can say this without your heart hurting all that much anymore, and you can see the why of why it wasn't meant to be. And you can feel okay about wishing him the very best while knowing that the best for you is still waiting for the right one to come along.

And it's time to really mean it now. To let the thought of him go. Because that's all he is now anyway. A thought as fleeting as a daydream, as fast as a cloud sailing across the sky. An ending to an old conversation that must take place so that a new one may begin.

Enough of Wednesday Already

So I'm exhausted. Tired enough to fall asleep standing up with both eyes wide open seeing everything and nothing at all. And I guess that staying up late to improve my skill level on guitar hero isn't exactly gelling with rising at dawn to ready myself for work.

I had more to say but my concentration just got busted from an incoming call...

More tomorrow if and when the bad news stops pouring in.

Venting

I decided to be mad today. Decided on my way home that I was really angry enough to spit nails. And it's a good thing I have something that occasionally resembles self control because I was tempted to pick up my phone and hand out some severe tongue lashings to more than a few of the people on my list of done me wrong.

And so I'm sitting on my hands. Sitting on them to prevent phone calls, emails, smoke signals... You name it. Because I respect myself more than my lonely little heart would like me to and second best or second rate just doesn't cut it with me. At least, not anymore...

Because I'm not desperate enough to want any man who isn't working his ass off to make sure he's got me. Because I'm worth more than a cheap one night you know what. Because anyone who wants to be in my life has got to show up, on time and in person.

But most of all because I deserve someone who loves me. Just the way I am.

Cause We've Got To Have Faith

I heard something tonight that made me sit up and take notice, enough to take the pen from behind my ear and write it down less I should forget. Our discussion tonight in small group centered on the beginnings of spirituality.

"I've always believed that God answers our prayers in one of three ways," said Marcia, "Yes, no or wait. And sometimes the waiting isn't really for you but for someone else who needs more time." And just like that, I got it in a way I hadn't quite grasped it before. Understanding it as the possibility that whatever the reason for the wait - it's not necessarily on hold because of me.

In other words... I'm okay. And it's alright to retrieve my self-esteem from the trash.

That my friends is a spiritual moment. The moment when your breath catches and your eyes boast a new awareness; a spark of knowledge that warms you from inside out. The moment when you know the past and the path you strayed from can coexist with the bright new future just ahead.

The lesson I walked away with tonight is simple. Ease up...

Don't be your own worst judge. Don't think because you're not where you want to be right now you've no hope of ever getting there at all.

Don't put life on hold to make it perfect. Don't believe you've got to be like everyone else to achieve your goals and dreams.

Believe in other people. Believe in people who believe in you.

Be thankful for what you have. Be grateful for unexpected blessings.

Be honest and true. And seek that same clarity in others.

Find joy and that joy will find you...

Mom On the Run

I admit it... I slept with the light on last night. Pretending it was only sheer laziness that kept me from getting out of bed to turn it off rather than cop to the fact that keeping it on made me feel better protected against the fugitive spider in my room. ('Cause everyone knows that spiders will absolutely not crawl into your bed just so long as the light is on.) And it was with this knowledge that I was finally able to fall asleep last night and stop worrying about whether or not the brown walls of my bedroom were camouflaging the little bastard. And as far as I'm concerned tonight, he took advantage of the opportunity to pack his bags and leave while I was at work today, leaving my room miraculously spider free.

Did I mention that I really don't like spiders?

In other news, no word on the Mom front which I'm guessing means she's yet to track down Bono or any of his affiliates. I do wonder however if she's having the time of her life, not that I actually have any doubts that she is. But it's just so weird, my little Mom is a world traveler. Experiencing new places, new people, and new things, and all without me...

And I've got to admit, I'm a little jealous. But in a very good way. I did tell her however that next year we'll be adding me to her carry on luggage. I don't care where we go (actually I do) just as long as it requires a passport and lots of dramamine to get me through the airplane ride.

Unfortunately I'm at my limit for blogging before bed with another early in looming large before me. And since tomorrow is an absolutely can't stay late at work night with a return of the Thursday night getting back to God dinner and discussions at church, I've got to take my lumps and go in at the ass crack of dawn... Or at least twenty minutes after my alarm initially goes off.

Ridiculous Ramblings

If I had a last nerve, I'd be down to it today. Between the minor child mouthing off, work burying me alive, and people being well people, I've had it from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. And I'm tired...

So much for that vacation doing me any good. My stress levels are back to being just as high as they were before I took the time off.

And this is possibly not a very good time for me to decide to try to negate some of my bad habits. I mean cause really... I want to cry myself right into a big bowl of ice cream right now and it's only by a thread I'm holding myself back.

I also want to go to sleep... But somewhere in my room there is a rather large spider lurking in the darkness just waiting to get me. And really, how am I supposed to sleep when there's an awful good chance that it could crawl on up and get all spidery on me...

If it weren't so darn late, I'd be breaking out my vacuum to go all Ghostbuster on its ass. For the sake of my neighbors however, I'm going to resist. Maybe I'll just sleep with a shoe or maybe I'll just sleep on the couch.

Or maybe I'll just stay up all freaking night long writing nonsense, listening to music like I am right now on my headphones. Northern Lad by Tori to be exact... Damn. I really should have gotten those concert tickets. I knew I was going to regret that one. I must have been having one of those crazy moments again...

I need to get out more.

Except Friday night is out as Bren and I are volunteering some time to the church, Saturday I've got to work for who knows how long during the day, and Sunday... Well, aren't I suppose to get at least one day of rest?

Which reminds me... Wasn't I invited to a party? And when am I supposed to go? And how am I getting there? Because no... I don't walk to camp out in a tent in someones yard, but driving home is not going to be an option.

Hmmmm... Decisions, decisions, decisions...

On another note, my Mom is on vacation in Ireland... She called me right before she left to board her plane and asked me what I wanted her to bring me back, and I asked for only one thing...

Bono.

If Mom brings him back, there will be no doubt that she is the bestest Mom in the entire world!

Recommendation for Reading

I had only thought to read a few pages. A chapter at most and then I'd put the book down and run out for a few minutes to do some quick errands. An hour and a half later, the book is finished and my errands have been moved to the to do list for tomorrow. One would think that I would know better than to bother picking up a book when I know that the only way I'll be putting it down is by finishing it.

This story however was a hard read. And there were times when I had to rest my eyes and give myself a second to breathe before continuing on. The book, If I Am Missing Or Dead - A Sister's Story of Love, Murder and Liberation by Janine Latus is not a fictional telling of something that might have been but rather a heart wrenching account of the silence of abuse, and the murder of a beloved sister. I won't pretend to think that I can do this book any justice by trying to sum it up in a few short sentences. I could, but I'm choosing not to. Advising instead that you read it for yourself.

I am however a big fan of borrowing an excerpt to share...

"If you see yourself in this book, you are not alone. I thought I was. Amy thought she was. But we weren't. I know now that if we had asked, people would have come, as they will for you.

It takes courage to change your life. Day in and day out, over and over, you have to decide to take the small, brave steps that change your future."

I know how important this message is to get out... Because it's not enough just to say it, or read it when it's easy to think that no, that could never be me. And the truth is, that's what I thought too. It took forcing myself out from my own denial before I was ready to face the truth of what I had allowed to happen... And it took twenty two days short of one year before I finally reached out and admitted to my family and my friends that I did need their help.

I only wish I'd called them sooner...

Giving Myself Over to the Muse

Another night spent with the headphones on my ears. It's like a new strange addiction for me. Entranced with all this new music and lyrics that actually mean something when they're sung. And I'm hooked, caught up in sounds. And those sounds become sights in my head like a motion picture movie. And I could watch forever...

And this is what I know is good for me to do right now. Going soul deep inside myself to try to figure out where it is I've been. And here in the darkness, I'm getting closer.

Life On the Ceiling

I sit here with my eyes closed.

Try to give myself over to the darkness and to the thoughts that only come when I shut down the thinking part of my brain. And then this damn song comes on out of nowhere and I'm pulled back into the one thought I don't want to have.

Just like that.

Thoughts I've been trying not to have anymore. Pointless ones in fact. One step forward, ten months back. And so much for saying I was through with entertaining them at all.

I want a memory erase.

I don't want to remember snippets of conversations anymore. I don't want to miss the empty minutes in an afternoon, the endless hours of the night, the early call of morning waking up alone without the motivation to get out of bed in a world that doesn't stop for broken hearts and wounded souls. Phones that don't ring, faces that come, faces that go, bodies that merge and break apart. Hopes that rise, and the reality that runs you over.

And still I can't believe that there are simple black and white reasons for every why that exists out there. How am I glass half empty girl when I always thought the glass was exactly at the level it needed to be?

Does this mean I give up the idea that on the inside we all want what's good and right? Does this mean I've been wrong for all these years?

Maybe I'm just that damn naive.


Soft, soft heart steeped in all this silence. Don't say a word. Don't shed a tear. And if you do, hide them all. All of this, every little thing is a circle game. Not saying the things we really need to say, wanting to believe the best of people, not wanting to condemn them before we're sure they've done us wrong. Wanting to forgive them when we know they have. Wishing that this big divide would take itself far, far away. So we could just live and breathe and be free of the masks of the people we pretend to be.

Why are we so scared to admit that we need to lean on those we love?

Why are we so scared that we're not enough if we're just ourselves?

Why do I feel that I can't honestly answer the question of who I am anymore?

Who am I beyond the roles I carry in my life?

And is thirty-two too young to be having a mid-life crisis?

Why am I losing sleep over all of this?

Because I'm not.

Not sleeping you know...

- What I wouldn't give just to forget. What I wouldn't give to get some rest. So I can remember how to live again. I want to live again... -

"What I Wouldn't Give" - Holly Brook - Like Blood Like Honey

Pulling a Mike Rowe.

I have to get up at a very unreasonable hour to go to work extra early in the morning to catch up on all the work I wasn't able to get finished today... And while I'm attempting to think of what I can blather on about tonight, I've got to tell you that I've got nothing. 100% nada.

And though I assure you that I could - if I really, really wanted to - continue on in this vein for a good ten minutes more, I'm going to save us all the trouble and go to bed. Because (a) I'm sleepy, (b) I'm not a morning person until about 11:00 am and (c) did I mention I have to go to work at a very unreasonable hour in the morning?


But here's an idea since I've been having some blank moments lately as to writing topics... I've decided to pull a Mike Rowe. And if you don't know who and I do say who Mike Rowe is, I direct you to the Discovery Channel where eventually you will find a man who does all sorts of nasty jobs with a smile on his face and for all intents and purposes a good attitude on screen. He's also (in my book) on the yummy side. In fact, if there was even the smallest chance that he could be convinced that cleaning KC's room fell under the heading of DIRTY JOBS, I'd be sending in my video application right here and now. (Besides I've already given up on the idea that my job would actually constitute one, that is unless you count some of the conversations I've been in on which are SO not my fault. I mean really, people tell me things and I'm just there to listen. A completely innocent bystander. A-yup.)

Anyhoo I was attempting to make a point as difficult as that can be for me... So here it is, if you have any ideas for something you'd like to read, feel free to send them my way... Who knows... I may even write something that's actually more interesting than how I spent my labor day cleaning my entire house!

Woo Hoo! The places we could go!

Toodles until tomorrow. This is me saying, brush your teeth, wash your face and get a good nights sleep.

A Day Full of Manual Labor

I got a slow start today but I'm only now just sitting down after having spent most of my evening cleaning like I haven't cleaned in quite a while. And all I can say is damn... I need a drink.

But the only drink I want right now is a tropical fruit smoothie from Dunkin Doughnuts and I'm not leaving the house to go get one. Besides we're having yet another sleepover as I have not yet learned the art of saying no and evidently meaning it.

I am not however making ice cream sundaes again tonight but mostly because I don't want to wait the twenty minutes it would take to thaw the ice cream out... I've been complaining since last October and more recently for the last three weeks to my landlord that something has gone wonky with the fridge. And wonky is putting it mildly as the freezer is snowing and turning everything in it to blocks of unbreakable ice and the fridge is barely staying cold enough to keep the milk from curdling.

The good news however is that supposedly he'll be delivering and installing a new fridge tomorrow... But like most of his I'll get to it eventually promises, I'm not going to believe it until I see it and he's not going to see the rent check until it's done.

Along with that, it's back to work for me in the morning and I'm not dreading it like I thought I would... In fact, I would almost go so far as to say I've missed a few people... Proving my point that I really do need to get out more.

Doing What I Love

I'm trying something new tonight. Listening to MSN radio to bring about some new thoughts by altering the sounds around me. The only problem is when I start to get a little too involved in the music, swaying along to the beat, I forget that what I'm supposed to be doing is writing, not getting lost in the song.

But getting lost is easy when the lyrics pull you in and the melody draws you near. You can't help but surrender yourself to a dozen different thoughts. Certain songs, certain artists, they can do that to you.

Tonight I feel a million miles away, I might as well be on the other side of the world. Nights like these when I'm okay with the darkness and the single candle lit within. Nights like these when I like being the only one here sitting alone in front of my computer waiting for the words to come. And when they do it feels like magic...

If you're like me, you know this feeling. You've felt it like the strength of arms wrapped around you. Holding you in, helping you up, giving you strength, letting you go... And when you're without it, your body always longs for that embrace.