This is the day…

I will slay Dragons, I will be brilliant, I will conquer the world. But first I’ll drink my first cup of coffee, swirled with whipped cream, and I’ll be still and alone with my thoughts and hopes and dreams. Early in the morning, with my first cup of coffee, and my thoughts and words. It’s then that I know that my cup is right and Life is Good indeed. Even when I think it’s not. It is.

“…be still…”

Shalom y’all.

Caution! Construction Zone – (Wo)man at work

So, yeah, the renovations continue… this is where OCD is a serious problem kids. Make notes. But I do think I’m getting closer to happy with the new bloggity look. If you can’t see or find the new additions, the short list is that I’ve installed new, cute share buttons under the posts (see, they hide from you, isn’t that cute?) and I’ve rewritten the “About” page, reorganized the sidebar, and added social networking links so you can find me all over the danged place. Just so you know, I’m not entirely happy with the buttons, which brings me to my first rant…

You Graphics people really need to add Pinterest and Foursquare to the cute icon sets, just sayin’

There, got that out of my system, moving on!

Anyway, my next thing is to find the right header image that best portrays the chaos that our house thrives on. Something normal, but not. I’m looking, I’ll find it eventually, and then I’ll be happy with the updates, maybe. But in the meantime there’s that splash of color up there. It works. So, gimme’ feedback peeps… does it work? Is it friendly? Modernized? Easy to read? What else do I need?

Operators are standing by!

Just a little…

sad, melancholy, whatever… you know what I mean.  Well, okay, maybe not.  So I’ll explain.

I bought my last school supplies today.

I know, I know… the “white people problems” I come up with to kvetch about.  Right?  Yeah, right.  But still, this is the last semester.  The last time I have to pick out folders.  The last time I have to prepare to go back to class for this go-round.

The end.

And it’s really hard to look backward and figure out where the two years have gone.  This time in 2010 I hadn’t even reapplied to start back.  I wasn’t even thinking about it.  It wasn’t even on my radar.  I didn’t make the decision until August 2010, the day I applied, and the day I told Bob I was doing this.

Yeah… he got no notice either.  I’m communicative like that.  You’ve been warned.

But anyway, yeah, I came home in early August, with the application complete and the acceptance already done, and I announced that I was going back to school.  And now I’m one degree done and the second nearly in the bag.


No, make that double wow.  Or triple.  And add in a chorus of “time flies…” because it really does.  And who knows where two more years will take us.  How our lives will look then.

Who knows?

If you had told me ten years ago that I would be here, in Lakeland, married to someone else, with children, and living this life… well, first I wouldn’t have believed you.  And second, there’s likely quite a bit I would have done differently.  Or not.

Probably not.

But for now, when I look backward, I see so many changes, so much that is gone, and so much that is new.  I don’t even recognize this life.  Even though I love it.  Even though it’s mine.  Even though I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

I really wouldn’t.

Without this life I would not be who I am today.  I would not be so different.  I like me now.  Better than I liked me then.  Really.  I do.  And I think everyone who has left me would like me today as well.  More comfortable.  More secure.

Me, only more me than I was before.

But today, it’s folders and notebooks and pencils, for the last time for this adventure, and I’m just a little sad.  But I’m truly more curious…

What’s next?

Moving forward…

and not back.

I consider that my biggest accomplishment these days.  Of course forward movement is to be applauded anytime.  But now?  Now it’s an Oscar-worthy performance.

I’d like to thank the Academy… blah blah blah… yeah, that.

But I am moving forward.  Mostly.  With two more classes finished this week.  Yay.  No really, it’s more like YAY!  Because I’m really glad to be done with both of them.  And I only have three weeks left of my other two Summer classes.  Also, YAY!  But at the same time there’s a little sadness because this is my last Summer in school. And when I started this crazy adventure back in ’10 it felt like 2012 was years away.


Light years.

And now we’re over half way through that far-off year and I’m five months away from Graduation.  Wait, let me type that again… five months.  That’s such a small amount of time.  Five months.  I couldn’t have a baby in that time.  But I will finish a degree.


And already I’m plotting and planning the best possible course for my Masters.  And to all of you who just went “SMH”  I reply “YOLO”.  So there.  Oh, and really, was there ever any doubt?  No, not so much.  Not if you know me anyway.  But, yes, it’s next on my bucket list.  And right behind that is finding someone else to pay for it… LOL.  We’ve already got student debt… don’t need more.

But that’s the future.  Today, right now, I’m living this moment.  This goal accomplished.  This achievement.  Because that’s how you do this.  One step at a time.  One class at a time.  One day at a time.  One moment at a time.

One foot in front of the other as I live my Life.

So live your life too.  Celebrate your accomplishments.  Even if they’re small.  Because small leads to large.  Life is made of both.  The little and the big moments.  That we live as we move forward.  Forward into the future.  Which is terribly uncertain and certainly not guaranteed, but it is the future.  And that’s where we’re going.

Whether we like it or not.

At a crossroads…

The path less taken… there it is.  Overgrown, hard to walk, more work.

Is it worth it?

Hard to say, impossible to know.  Feeling mixed.  Not sure of anything… but the hurt.  It’s still there.  The gaping emptiness where so many that I’ve loved are no longer.  I never knew emptiness could cause pain, but the space hurts.  I never needed extra space.  I needed them.  Need them.  But that I do not have, I have the hurt, and the hurt is still there.

And I consider those paths.  With the hurt of that emptiness throbbing inside of me.  Wondering which way to go.

Which is my path?  What is my way?

Easy or hard.  Or both.


Easy or hard.  Or both.

Light or dark. Right or wrong.  Black or white.

Nothing is ever that easy.


Hearing but not listening…

Happens a lot.  More than you think.

All. The. Time.

We have our reaction.  Before we understand the words. We look for validation from the voices that only say what we want to hear.  We filter out anything that doesn’t validate what we believe is true.

We don’t see or hear facts unless they match our beliefs.

Voluntary blindness.

Yet, despite our self-induced Myopia, somewhere inside of each of us there is a still, small voice.  Speaking the truth.  And we cannot run from that voice forever.

That voice doesn’t stop.


I could not save others.  But I will keep trying.  I do this because I care.  Because my small, still voice will not be quiet.  My small, still voice sometimes shouts for attention to be paid.  I do not pity.  Pity is wasted.  I try to help.  I try to show truth.  I try to shine a light into darkness.

I am afraid of the dark.  And the things that live there.  So my small, still voice uses words to warn of those things.  Those dangers.


Words that harm.  Words that hurt.  Words that move.


Words that draw a picture of love.


Words that speak.  Words that hear.  Words that are lost.

because we’re hearing… but not listening.

Things you do not deal with when you’re dead…

What to do about the holidays, the traditions, the sacred and the profane of everyday life.  You don’t have that anymore.  You’re gone.

Where to?  I don’t know.  I know it’s not to that mythical Heaven in the sky, because I’ve gotten on too many planes and every time that I get above the clouds I never see you there.  You’ve never been sitting on a cloud.  Like they told me in Sunday School all those years ago.

They lied.

But you’ve gone somewhere.  Somewhere we can’t see.  And now we have to figure out the every day, without you.  Can any day ever be every day ever again without you?

I’m not sure.

This year has been cancelled, due to the empty chair you left behind.  When you went to wherever you are.  To do whatever it is you’re doing now.  We’re still doing too.


But the chair, and the space, and the voice that lived with you are all gone, empty, and silent.


But these are things you do not deal with…

when you are dead.

An Open Letter to a Friend…

The first thing you need to understand is that you do not need to defend yourself if you feel you made the right decision. After all, you are an adult, you have to live with your mistakes, and whatever those mistakes cost you only you will have to pay.  The second thing you should understand is that I’m not angry with you over this decision you have made, nor am I even surprised.  I knew you would do this.  In fact, I actually understand (probably better than you think) why you have done something that everyone in your world disagrees with so wholeheartedly.

You see, I’ve been in your situation before.  I know where you are.  You’re lonely.  You’re unhappy.  You feel trapped.  And he’s the only solution you have right now.  So he’s better than nothing.  Better than being alone.

But is he?  Is he a solution, or is he the problem?

He says he’s changed.  He says things are going to be different.  He says…words.  Just words.  Fact is, he’s been like he is for years.  He hasn’t changed.  Another fact is that so have you, and you didn’t change either. So if we have two people who are exactly the same, creating the same combination together, how could any other outcome be the result?

He has to have control.  He has to have subservience.  Before when you were with him you saw up close that when he didn’t get those two things there were problems.  How does that change in two weeks? Ask yourself that.  And be honest.  Because  when you stop and really be honest, instead of defensive, I think you’ll admit that you don’t even care whether he changed.  I think that’s when you’ll tell the world with words what your actions are already saying – you believe he’s all you can find and all you deserve.  You think he’s your only chance.  You think it’s him or being alone.  Forever.

I wish you loved you as much as so many others do.  I wish you saw the beauty, the caring, the goodness we all recognize and want to protect.  I wish you liked you, really really liked you, like we do.  None of us are mad.  We’re scared.  We love you, we care about you, and we don’t want to have to identify you in a Morgue.  None of us want that.

And that, when you get to the bottom of the drama and ridiculousness, is what’s wrong with everyone in your life.  There are very many people who care deeply about you.  Those people will all blame themselves if something catastrophic happens to you.  No one in your life has any investment in him.  Nobody even likes him.  Let alone loves him.  We saw him hurt you before.  We will not forgive him.  We don’t have to.

And now you are in more danger than ever before because you have done something he had not been able to do before.  You have made this decision that we all hate.  And now you say we’ve written you off.  But you have to understand, to us you’re the one who wrote you off.  By going back. By not trying to fix your life on your own. By not being an adult and accepting that decisions have consequences.

Is this the price you are willing to pay?  Is he worth that?  Are you sure?  Is he really Mr. Right?  Or is he just Mr. Right Now?  Only you know.  We do not.  But you know what the price is to be with him.  And that is what you have to pay.  With your family, your friends, your grandchild.  All of that.  Is he worth that?

Think about it.

Just know that if it gets horrible, the door is open.  But if you keep running back to him, running back to danger, eventually no one can save you.  No one will.  You have to save yourself.  You have to love yourself.  More than we do.  More than he does.

More than anything.

If you choose to be with him because he is your choice, know that I am sad, but I am not surprised.  I wish you love, and luck.  You need both, from someone who does actually love you.  Not someone who simply says the word and means something different.  Love is not about control.  Love is not about hurt.  Love is not words.

Remember that.  Always.

And while you’re at it… get the hell offa my lawn!

So, I’ve mildly ranted on Facebook about this, but I’m really gonna’ go off over here.


Really?  All week?  What exactly are you over compensating for this time?  They make medication for that BTW.  Meanwhile my dogs are now starting to look like villagers from some backwoods spot that was shelled repeatedly during the Hundred Years War.  Or perhaps three of the dogs who lived at Fort Sumter.  And I know they were weird before, but this is just beyond the weird.  Barking at all hours, sitting and quivering.

All because you’re a good American because you blow shit up?

Please note that I consider youu, and your flag-waving, explosive-using faux patriotism to be everything that’s wrong with the world today.  I’ll bet you don’t even vote.  Or know any of the words to the Declaration of Independence.  Or the Constitution.  But boy can you buy illegal fireworks that show the world in sparkly red, white, and blue explosions how much you love your country.

Your neighbors aren’t feeling that love.

Just stop.  Really.  Stop.  Because I know what the laws are and I’m going to report your illegal self if I have to deal with one more weekend of this nonsense.  You’ve been warned.  The dogs will come over later and express their displeasure.  I don’t think you’ll miss their point.

“These are the times that try men’s souls…”  and indeed they are Thomas Paine… indeed they are.

Bah humbug.

Change is gonna’ do you good…

If it doesn’t kill you first.  There’s always that risk.

Yeah,  you know… “the more you know”… and of course, you’re welcome.

But what all that mumbling’s about?  Charting my future.  Sorting out the whole “what am I going to be when I grow up” question, which BTW might have made the last 30 years a little easier if I’d handled that sooner rather than later.  Just sayin.  Of course, by procrastinating on it for this long the plan doesn’t have to be as long… not so many years left to work with.

There, that’s a cheery thought.  Ponder that one for a while.

But getting back to my mental meanderings, letting your life plan be charted by a drunken Goat wandering in a pasture is not exactly the best way to do it.  Yeah.  Write that down and remember it younglings… and make a real plan.  Before life makes one for you.

Meanwhile, here at teh Googles, I’m researching mine.  Plotting and planning.  Now that I’ve given the path a name.  Now that I know what it looks like.  May the next 48 years be totally different from the first 48.

That was my birthday wish.


Different.  Because they say in the advertisements “different is good”.  I hope so.

Don’t you?