From another time but still part of this, of who I was and who I am...
After the last Divorce...
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
No wonder there are so many people on myspace. I mean, everyone out there looking for that special person but not knowing where to go to find them. When in truth, you're most likely to stumble across him or her when you aren't looking at all. But what to do when you aren't looking, a special person catches your eye and captures your heart and then shreds it?
We wonder why some men are such jerks and some women are total bitches. I guess there may be other reasons but I think the real reason is that most of us have been shat upon so many times we've become jaded. To make it worse, even those of us with the best built walls-carefully constructed, heavily guarded-are vulnerable at times. That's when the buzzards swoop in and make a meal out of what's hiding behind those walls. Bastards.
It's just not right when someone makes you believe in happily-ever-after again only to find out it was a trick after all. Smoke and mirrors, illusions, sweet nothings become bitter somethings. That first taste of love, the thumping heart, racing breath, sparkly eyes...yeah, it's great. Then what? How do you recover when you find out all that was just a way to get in your pants? It's a cruel joke and a heartless one to play.
What to do, what to do? There's not a damn thing to do about it, sadly. I guess we could all just shut down and carry on with life in an emotional vaccuum. Not the most fun but certainly the safest modus operandi. Or, we can continue to build walls...adding another brick each time we discover how truly crappy the opposite sex can be. Maybe even this, we could continue to guard the walls we've already built but step outside that comfort zone occassionally, to feel the pain, the joy, the excitement and the let down. To ensure we're human after all.
While I'm not thrilled about my broken heart, I'm thankful for the experience. I hope it makes me stronger, better, and more accepting of the walls other people build. In the meantime, I hope I don't get too lonely and fall for sweet lies and total bullshit again.
No wonder there are so many people on myspace. I mean, everyone out there looking for that special person but not knowing where to go to find them. When in truth, you're most likely to stumble across him or her when you aren't looking at all. But what to do when you aren't looking, a special person catches your eye and captures your heart and then shreds it?
We wonder why some men are such jerks and some women are total bitches. I guess there may be other reasons but I think the real reason is that most of us have been shat upon so many times we've become jaded. To make it worse, even those of us with the best built walls-carefully constructed, heavily guarded-are vulnerable at times. That's when the buzzards swoop in and make a meal out of what's hiding behind those walls. Bastards.
It's just not right when someone makes you believe in happily-ever-after again only to find out it was a trick after all. Smoke and mirrors, illusions, sweet nothings become bitter somethings. That first taste of love, the thumping heart, racing breath, sparkly eyes...yeah, it's great. Then what? How do you recover when you find out all that was just a way to get in your pants? It's a cruel joke and a heartless one to play.
What to do, what to do? There's not a damn thing to do about it, sadly. I guess we could all just shut down and carry on with life in an emotional vaccuum. Not the most fun but certainly the safest modus operandi. Or, we can continue to build walls...adding another brick each time we discover how truly crappy the opposite sex can be. Maybe even this, we could continue to guard the walls we've already built but step outside that comfort zone occassionally, to feel the pain, the joy, the excitement and the let down. To ensure we're human after all.
While I'm not thrilled about my broken heart, I'm thankful for the experience. I hope it makes me stronger, better, and more accepting of the walls other people build. In the meantime, I hope I don't get too lonely and fall for sweet lies and total bullshit again.
Continuing on... This memory makes me smile.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Green Feet and Sweet Gum Trees
Green Feet and Sweet Gum Trees
Yesterday marked an important event for me in 2006. It was the first official mowing of the yard! For those of you who don't already know, mowing the yard is one of my favorite things to do. I don't ride-I push. Because the yard just looks better when it's been cut with a push mower.
This mowing was the first at my house because I just bought it in November. So, I was learning the lay of the land so to speak. My son decided to spend the afternoon with my parents so I was free to enjoy the experience, to meditate with the hum of the engine, smell of gasoline and grass. I went home after dropping him off, changed into my bikini top and shorts. OH NO! I left my "yard mowing" shoes at my ex's house! So, it was either turn my only pair of tennis shoes green or opt for flip-flops. I went with the flip-flops. Out to the shed, pull out the red machine, check the oil, fill up the tank, pull the rip cord (took a couple of tries, it hasn't been cranked all winter remember) and finally the blades whirr to life. What an rush! Around to the front yard I go.
Cutting in around all the trees. Who knew I had that many dogwoods and crepe myrtles? Overgrown forsythias - mental note: must trim those back. Oh look! Irises and lilies coming up. Might as well mow down the buttercups, they've put on their show for the year. How the hell am I going to mow over the mountain that is my storm shelter? Why in God's name did they put the stupid thing in the front yard!? Push, push, push...I'm at the top. Quick break to throw my hands up in the air and shout "I'm the King of the World!" I hope my neighbors are watching. Giggle a bit and slide back down the hill. Ooops ran out of gas. Fill'er up and smoke a cigarette; swallow something cold because I'm hot. Now for that little strip of grass between the driveway and the fence. I'm backing up and manage to back right into the edge of the carport. My flip-flop goes flying and so do I! Landing smack on my rear end, skinning the BACKS of my knees! it was hilarious! I hope my neighbors are watching.
Front yard done, I move on to the back yard. I already know it's going to be a challenge because I have a vicious walnut tree back there and it's left presents all over the yard. For the unitiated, walnuts in a yard equal flying missiles capable of knocking a man out at 50 paces. I decide to mow around walnut missile infested areas and concentrate on the edges instead. Will pick up as many walnuts as I can before attempting the mine field. Down a fence row I go, still in my flip-flops, and discover to my chagrin that my neighbor has an equally vicious sweet gum tree that has dropped it's spiny, prickly, evil weapons in my yard too! I discover this because I stepped right down on one and nearly fell over! Those things hurt!!! Much care has to be taken when mowing over sweet gum balls in flip-flops. Another not to self: buy new tennis shoes and use old ones as protective equipment to mow yard. After several tip-toe trips up and down the fence row and more than a few stops to un-prick my feet, the mower runs out of gas again. I decide I can stop and go pick up my son.
But not before I take a moment and survey the fruits of my labors. The smell of freshly cut grass, the green stained feet, the smooth surface of the yard, exposed sweet gum missiles, clean fence rows...nice. I am tired, sweaty, satisfied. My day has been very good.
This mowing was the first at my house because I just bought it in November. So, I was learning the lay of the land so to speak. My son decided to spend the afternoon with my parents so I was free to enjoy the experience, to meditate with the hum of the engine, smell of gasoline and grass. I went home after dropping him off, changed into my bikini top and shorts. OH NO! I left my "yard mowing" shoes at my ex's house! So, it was either turn my only pair of tennis shoes green or opt for flip-flops. I went with the flip-flops. Out to the shed, pull out the red machine, check the oil, fill up the tank, pull the rip cord (took a couple of tries, it hasn't been cranked all winter remember) and finally the blades whirr to life. What an rush! Around to the front yard I go.
Cutting in around all the trees. Who knew I had that many dogwoods and crepe myrtles? Overgrown forsythias - mental note: must trim those back. Oh look! Irises and lilies coming up. Might as well mow down the buttercups, they've put on their show for the year. How the hell am I going to mow over the mountain that is my storm shelter? Why in God's name did they put the stupid thing in the front yard!? Push, push, push...I'm at the top. Quick break to throw my hands up in the air and shout "I'm the King of the World!" I hope my neighbors are watching. Giggle a bit and slide back down the hill. Ooops ran out of gas. Fill'er up and smoke a cigarette; swallow something cold because I'm hot. Now for that little strip of grass between the driveway and the fence. I'm backing up and manage to back right into the edge of the carport. My flip-flop goes flying and so do I! Landing smack on my rear end, skinning the BACKS of my knees! it was hilarious! I hope my neighbors are watching.
Front yard done, I move on to the back yard. I already know it's going to be a challenge because I have a vicious walnut tree back there and it's left presents all over the yard. For the unitiated, walnuts in a yard equal flying missiles capable of knocking a man out at 50 paces. I decide to mow around walnut missile infested areas and concentrate on the edges instead. Will pick up as many walnuts as I can before attempting the mine field. Down a fence row I go, still in my flip-flops, and discover to my chagrin that my neighbor has an equally vicious sweet gum tree that has dropped it's spiny, prickly, evil weapons in my yard too! I discover this because I stepped right down on one and nearly fell over! Those things hurt!!! Much care has to be taken when mowing over sweet gum balls in flip-flops. Another not to self: buy new tennis shoes and use old ones as protective equipment to mow yard. After several tip-toe trips up and down the fence row and more than a few stops to un-prick my feet, the mower runs out of gas again. I decide I can stop and go pick up my son.
But not before I take a moment and survey the fruits of my labors. The smell of freshly cut grass, the green stained feet, the smooth surface of the yard, exposed sweet gum missiles, clean fence rows...nice. I am tired, sweaty, satisfied. My day has been very good.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Melanin Madness
Melanin Madness
I love laying out in the sun with a cold drink and a good book. It's like seizing a piece of paradise and selfishly calling it my own, no matter how briefly. I don't like to be interrupted when I'm actively doing nothing. I like watching my skin turn from the color of cream to cafe au lait. I realize it's not a particularly politically correct activity to enjoy but I do not care. It is during this precious time that I think.
I think about the ways I'm screwing up my kids and the ways I'm raising them right. I ponder over relationships and what's gone wrong with those in my past. I wonder what I'll fix for supper. I think about my future and where I'd like to be in 5, 10, 15 years. I plan the way I'll spend my winnings when I win the lottery. I think about what I'm going to do with my parents when they get old and really need me. I think about what I'd like to do with the blank canvas that is my backyard. I contemplate the sweat pooling in my belly button. I watch the butterflies and wish I could be one for just a minute or two. I consider my salvation and my faith.
It is in these quiet, steamy hours that I examine myself on the outside as well as on the inside. I like who I am as a woman - emotionally, physically, spiritually. This is what I've discoverd so far this sunning season. I am more comfortable in my own skin now than I have ever been in the past. I truly like who I've become. I've hoed some hard rows but wouldn't trade the lessons I gained in the weeds. When I'm not laying in the sun, I am often operating on auto-pilot and don't have the time to stop and think, stop and appreciate, stop and plan, stop and breathe.
As my skin turns brown, my life slows down just for a bit. And I am glad for this small luxury. I rarely invite others to join me on the quest for the perfect tan because while it may not seem like I'm doing anything important in truth I am. I am growing and learning. Discovering myself.
I think about the ways I'm screwing up my kids and the ways I'm raising them right. I ponder over relationships and what's gone wrong with those in my past. I wonder what I'll fix for supper. I think about my future and where I'd like to be in 5, 10, 15 years. I plan the way I'll spend my winnings when I win the lottery. I think about what I'm going to do with my parents when they get old and really need me. I think about what I'd like to do with the blank canvas that is my backyard. I contemplate the sweat pooling in my belly button. I watch the butterflies and wish I could be one for just a minute or two. I consider my salvation and my faith.
It is in these quiet, steamy hours that I examine myself on the outside as well as on the inside. I like who I am as a woman - emotionally, physically, spiritually. This is what I've discoverd so far this sunning season. I am more comfortable in my own skin now than I have ever been in the past. I truly like who I've become. I've hoed some hard rows but wouldn't trade the lessons I gained in the weeds. When I'm not laying in the sun, I am often operating on auto-pilot and don't have the time to stop and think, stop and appreciate, stop and plan, stop and breathe.
As my skin turns brown, my life slows down just for a bit. And I am glad for this small luxury. I rarely invite others to join me on the quest for the perfect tan because while it may not seem like I'm doing anything important in truth I am. I am growing and learning. Discovering myself.
Ahhh...the joys of DATING
Friday, June 30, 2006
IRRITATING MOTHER FUCKERS
IRRITATING MOTHER FUCKERS
NOTHING IRRITATES ME MORE THAN MEN WHO REFUSE TO TELL THE TRUTH...I REALIZE THERE ARE WOMEN OUT THERE WHO "can't handle the truth" BUT I'M NOT ONE OF'EM. FOR EXAMPLE, IF A GUY JUST WANTS IN MY PANTS - HE SHOULD JUST SAY SO INSTEAD OF PRETENDING TO BE INTERESTED IN ME AS A PERSON. TRUST ME ON THIS ONE...THERE'S SUCH THING AS A NO BULLSHIT ZONE AND I HAPPEN TO LIVE THERE. DON'T FUCKING LIE TO ME - ABOUT ANYTHING...EVER.
And in the next we turn a corner...
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