I had some moments of rage today.

I know, right?

That just doesn’t even belong anywhere around here lately, but it is what it is.

I had some rage.

First let me add the preemptive caveat that if you think this is you I’m talking about: well it either is or it isn’t. Go with your gut instinct. But you know that more often than not, the 5 people that read here are NOT who gets the focus of my rage. If I’m pissed at you or feel like you’re pissed at me,  I will either just call you right up and lay it on the table, or be so overtly passive aggressive that we both start laughing and just bless it and let it go. We know how I work in that arena. So don’t fret.

This thing that’s going on with me?

It’s good. It’s true. It’s authentic.

It has changed everything.

Everything.

But I’m not mad about it.

I’m not freaked out.

I’m not crosseyed with the hearts and flowers and coloring every episode a lovely shade of blush and bashfull to the point of not knowing what’s happening, either.

What I am, is happy.

What I am is excitedly content.

So when I’m met with…let’s not call it “unsupportive behavior” let’s just call it “active reservations” –about this thing that is doing wonders for my complexion, I want you to know that I get it.

I get it.

Yeah, it’s all whirl-windy-silly when compressed into the devices we use to mark time.

Yeah, it can perhaps be seen as illogical.

I get it.

That actively reserved stance comes from several places. Most of which are a direct result of the choices I’ve made in my past relationships. Reaction comes from fear and wariness and the need to protect from future mistakes. All of those things are strategic parts of a great friendship.

I have felt them for many of you at one time.

You’ve seen me stumble and you’ve picked me up. You’ve seen me want something so desperately that I chose to lose parts and pieces of myself, and you steadfastly helped to piece me back together again when the day came. You’ve understood the way I’ve chosen to navigate this life, and up until awhile ago, all of that made perfect sense.

So. I get the fear. I get the cautious optimism. It’s what I’ve given you to go on.

I am here to tell you, friends…the time has come to give you a different template.

I ask that you understand that the roads have all led me to this place.

I ask that you continue to love me, even if I fall again, just as I do you.  I ask that you put that fear and that reactionary impulse to immediately doubt and disbelieve, I ask that you tuck that away.

And I ask that you not view this thing, this shiny, perfectly wonderful thing, with that clouded, scratched lens. Don’t project that which you view with the fear I have shown you previously, onto this thing that needs not be feared.

Because it’s starting to fucking piss me off.

(see what I did there?)

Being happy is a choice.

and it’s the one that I choose.

So please try not to worry. I’m in very capable and strong and supportive hands.

 

 

 

 

I can’t believe it’s been so many days since I’ve written and posted. I can’t imagine what’s kept me away from this place…heh heh heh.

Life is good here at Brokedown Palace.

I presented my first paper at my first conference this weekend. I had great support with my school partner in crime, and a steady flow of texts from Mark, sending me calm and cool thoughts. My presentation was ok. I think it was rushed. I followed a girl who read her paper word for word. Even managing to mispronounce many of those words. ??? Seriously??? So I think I err’d on the side of going too fast, trying to interject some energy back into the room. Whatever, it was fine and dandy and it’s done and I have that under my belt and on my CV. Done diddly done.

This week is study for the Subject GRE which I’m taking on Saturday. It’s writing a paper tonight to turn in tomorrow. It’s keeping afloat and focused. It’s VOTING on Tuesday. Lot’s going on, and managing to continue to navigate the Happy at the same time.

It’s getting a little easier, that part.

“We’re going to have to be judicious about the time you spend not studying this week.”

Indeed.

I’ve met his people. His tribe that sustains. This next week he will begin to meet mine. I’m excited for that and I know that you will love him, too. Everything is just good.

So that’s where I am today. On the couch, I’m about to finish this book on the Indian Captivity Narrative and write a book review paper about it. Michael is coming over for SOA and some supper. I’m going to make Cindy’s apple sausage/cabbage/potato slurry. I cannot wait.

Hope your weekend was perfect.

Mine was.

Just perfect.

 

 

I know that I’ve always talked about the voices that I have in my head.

When I wake up, whoever is the loudest gets to drive the bus.

That’s just the way it is. It’s what we’ve worked out to be a finely tuned well synced system and that’s just that.

So it kind of throws everybody off when I’m all blissed out. I know that I’m all googlie eyed and silly right now. I’m doodling in notebooks and doing name quizes and counting the minutes until I get to be face to face, all the while I’ve got an entire army of voices in the back of my head that are dealing with some pretty interesting shit. I think they’re wondering what’s going on, when will it be play time again and who the HELL is driving the bus???

I’ve been pretty successful in keeping them quiet these past few weeks. I’ve got a lot of irons in the fire with school, and papers, and the literary conference I’m presenting at on Saturday, and then the Subject GRE the following Saturday. I’m still waiting to find out about being awarded the LTYM Show, which should come soon…and IF that happens what kind of work that will entail. Hurricanes, and biopsy’s and exams all pile on…

all the while we’re navigating a new relationship.

and working out schedules.

and trying to be logical and get some sleep.

and wrapping our heads around how…everything has changed.

I am amazed that there hasn’t been a full blown, blue faced Braveheart revolution happening with the voices. Seriously.

But I think that since I have a space to be, a place to express, and someone who steadfastly supports…that it just might be a time of being settled in my brain.

Maybe.

For that, I am so grateful.

Actively grateful. I don’t want to take any of this for granted, or assume that it’s just going to be here forever or not acknowledge the fact that I GET how really graceful it all is.

So in that spirit I’m going to give you a list. I do love a list.

1) First and foremost, Burl (Bonusdad)’s biopsy results came back. NO CANCER. Did you hear me? NO FUCKING GODDAMNED CANCER!!!!!  I am beyond relieved. Now, both he and my mom get a do-over. Shake the Etch-A-Sketch clean. There is a second chance. I hope that they both get that, really really GET that, and do something about it. Life is really a beautiful gift. I do not take that for granted.

2) You. I’m so grateful for you. For your support of all things Ridiculous. You may not think that I know you’re pulling for me, or that I know you’re sending me love and light and prayer and energy…but oh sweet sweet friend…I do know. I feel it. I know that when I am at my most empty, scraping the bottom and so dry my lips have cracked…that you will re-fill me. Sometimes I fear that I ask that too often, too much, without giving enough back. Yet you’re always here. I do not take that for granted.

3) This ❤ thing. It’s been a long time. I was actually, really just done. I was settled in to be the stereotypical collector of higher education degrees and cats. I’ll be the eccentric spinster aunt that lives in the attic. I’d kind of gotten comfortable in that place. I surely wasn’t going to just quit living…and then all of a sudden there comes a day that has equal parts mud and magic, laughter and tears, soul saving pizza and octopus puppets…and everything changes. I am amazed and full of wonder. And really just full of peace. I’m not twisted and crazy. The voices aren’t questioning and jealous and stirring the cauldron. This is. And while it seems fresh…it’s been working it’s way here for a long long time. I do not take that for granted.

4) I enrolled in my FINAL SEMESTER of This Grad School Thing, this week. I’m taking one class, and the rest are thesis hours. Shakespeare’s History Plays. I’m excited actually. This is a prof that I’d wanted to work with before my time was up. I really know nothing about the history plays as I’ve always skewed more to the comedy section of Willie’s stuff. It’ll be good. The whole looming concept of  What’s Next is out there. But once again, I’m completely at peace about it. That peace of mind, in regards to this adventure? I do not take for granted.

5) I have fallen into an entirely new group of friends these past two weeks. Real, genuine, honest, authentic people. Who want to know me as much as I want to know them. It’s daunting being the new girl. That’s a role that I have not played in a hot minute. But this has been just as graceful as it could’ve possibly been. Plus, I’m totally not above buying love or my way into a group with fancy LED lighting up lipgloss. I’m not an idiot. I look forward to getting to know these people, and making memories that are woven with their thread. I am blessed by the addition and I do not take that for granted.

6) MY group of friends, who for the most part of this semester have been sorely and shamefully ignored. I pop up occasionally for a bridal shower, or a porch night, or a dinner, but my routine this semester has been pretty much locked down. SO, for me to beat the drum and call them to order and announce what’s going on over here…the fact that they listen, and they are just as giddy for me as I am, good grief. I could cry. I could. Because I know not everyone has that. I have it in spades. By the bucket full. Entire gobs of good. I do not take that for granted.

So that’s my list for today.

On this last day of October, a month that changed everything…I’m grateful for you.

and for this coffee.

Lord this is good coffee.

and for George Clooney. I’m really grateful for George. Because….I mean….come on.

 

Sandy is kind of a bitch, eh? I was a nernous ninny all day. I’ve got people that I love there. My people in Brooklyn, Talaura, Kizz, my cousin Jerome. My people in New Jersey, Abby and Seth. My people that I have vicariously through them. I was just nervous. Weather is just…lord.

Watching the morning after, and what went down, looking in the light of day…it’s going to be a long haul to recovery for my favorite city.

I was a little sideways last night. I think it was the full moon, the storm, school, schedules and working around and inside of them, I went to bed with all of my thoughts and feelings on the outside of my skin. Crazy dreams. Unsupportive voices. Kikimama decided to try to sleep on my face. Ugh.

But this morning, I awoke to a song and some conversation and good coffee and giggles and support. It was the new version of morning coffee clatch…and it was perfect.

It totally fed my soul this morning. Because it feels so good when your people feel good for you. You know I’m totally hopped up on the happy anyways, so it just makes it even better when others get hopped up, too.

It makes me so happy to see the happy become contagious.

So, happy happy morning to you all. Today, I write. I write, I clean a bit, I run a few errands and do some banking and pay some bills. But mostly I write and I read. Then tonight, dinner and drinks with PseudoSis 1 for some desperately overdue facetime.

Cheers ya’ll!

 

OH. P.S.

remember that literary criticism test that gave me anxiety? Totally made an A.

 

I’m happy.

And that is the general state of affairs over here, but…this is different.

This is Happy. Capitol H Happy.

There have been some very interesting developments in my life lately, some of which I’m not yet at liberty to share with you…they will have their time…some of which are just mundane, daily, I feel like I’m “winning” things…one of which is…not mundane or a daily occurance…

I’ve met someone.

And he is all of the adjectives one would use to describe everything that is right and good.

I think that we are both knee deep in wonder and amazement. That’s just the way of things, right? When the unexpected appears and takes you out at the knee and you’re flat on your back looking at the stars and thinking…”I have no idea how I got here…”

Time and it’s random non-linear-ness have been playing tricks again…because it feels as if this has been…longer than it has been.

So we laugh about that.

We laugh about a lot of things.

If you’re running around this Sunday afternoon, doing the things you do, or prepping for a storm, or still in your pj’s, or sipping coffee or roasting tomatoes or doing laundry or having a Sunday Funday cocktail…and you wonder in a brief moment how I’m doing since I’ve been kind of off the radar with school and work and life lately…

I want for you to know that I am happy.

This kind of happy.

 

 

For Happiness is anyone, and anything at all that’s loved by you…

 

Feel free to step away and gag now. I know. Seriously. I totally support you. I’d probably do it if I were you. So go ahead. Here wait, Watch this. This will balance out the cavity inducing ridiculousness that’s running amuck over here:

One of the things that I’ve been trying to do when I find myself in the middle of a situation that is steeped in anxiety and panic is to go to the worst scenario, and walk backwards.

You’re not dying.

They can’t eat you.

You never have to do this day over again.

Step by step I proceed until I can breath calmly and move forward.

I had a sorta kinda panic attack today. It started from about 11am and worked its way through my day coming to a head about 3ish? 4ish? I dunno.

I didn’t go to my first class today, but got notes from my study buddy friend. I tried to sleep it off. Tried to think it away. Focus on the giddy. Focus on the music. Focus on upcoming plans.

Yet there it was. This funky thing just kind of sitting on my shoulder.

I had my first major exam in Literary Criticism tonight. This is the class, as I’ve said before, that all of the master’s students say wrecked their 4.0.

I know that I’ve got it written in big colorful letters on my Desire Wall/Goal Wall/Dream Wall whatever the hell I call it, that I don’t have to be perfect. I am not required to stay at this level of perfection. It’s okay.

. . .

My stepdad, last week, found out that he has a mass on his lung. He’s been seen by three doctors, and the thing shows “signs” of cancer. He went to Little Rock to the VA hospital there and this morning they did a biopsy. We’ll get those results in a week or two. I haven’t said anything because there’s just not much to do until we know something for sure. Pragmatic approach. Me. Pragmatic.

Yeah, it’s weird. I know.

So. The biopsy was today. Mom kept me posted with texts throughout the day. It went well. The lung didn’t collapse, as was a possibility, and he should be leaving the hospital tomorrow. We should get results within the next few weeks.

There’s a lot of stuff swirling about. And I promise you some…a lot…is good, new, shiny, potentially delicious stuff. But today was one of those days that tried to get the best of me.

I finally just breathed through it, and got centered. This post that I wrote for the Lenten season this year popped up on my sitemeter, so I went over and re-read it. 

That was not an accident, friends. Not an accident at all.

Sometimes the reminders are subtle, and sometimes they come in the form of highlighted text that says CLICK HERE AND READ ME.

The day has wrapped up nicely.

Pretty sure I owned that literary criticism test.

Burl is going to be okay.

I made a wish at 11:11 tonight.

I’ll let you know when it comes true.

i fear hurt

that it’s all in my head

merely a manifestation of my hearts longing

rather than what

actually

is.

because who would want that, right?

how could that-this-be really desired in real life?

and that truth-proven

is more painful than living inauthentically in a fantasy

behind a wall

under a rug

hiding feels easier

but not better.

it does not feel better. 

 

 

just some words I found in a notebook that I thought I’d put down here. 

it’s interesting what changes over time. 

and what does not. 

 

I’d like to tell you about my friend.

 

She’s more than a friend really.

Best friend doesn’t cut it either.

Sister is closer, but not that either.

We’re really too different to be soulmates.

We’re really too alike to not be soulmates.

My girl Talaura turns 40 today. She’s…I think…one of the last ones of us to get here. And honey, we’re welcoming you. All of us on this side of that age box, welcoming you with open arms.

Here are a few things you should know about her:

She likes her hot drinks cold and her cold pops room temperature.

She will, at any given moment, have the ability to dig into the trunk of her car, into her closet, into her desk drawer, and put together an amazing costume.

She has a wit that is sharp and fast.

She has a heart that is ginormous and welcoming.

She sometimes mixes up her Dayquil and her NyQuil and will sleep through her soap operas on a sick day.

She’s a lot nicer than she used to be in regards to nicknames.

Girl can see something, then make it the next day. She has an eye for creating.

She can string a line of words together that will make you weep, or sing, or weepandsing.

She loves you back.

If you’re feeling lonely, in a new city and a new state, she will stay on the phone with you and talk in a character voice opposite of your character voice and play out the Redneck Boyfriend Scene until you’re both crying from laughter.

She will hold you when you cry.

She will pick you up when you fall down.

If your marriage is dissolving before your eyes, she will pack you into her car, and she will drive you to a place where you will be ok.

If your marriage dissolves and she happens to be living with you at the time, she will, without judgement or malice, live with you in a one room/one bed rent by the week motel for the rest of the summer.

And she’ll make it fun.

She’s one of the most talented shoppers I’ve ever seen.

She remembers. Everything. Everything that I do not.

Her laugh will light up a night.

She will totally support you when you order that next bottle of wine.

If your plane is late and she’s picking you up, and it winds up being 1assoclock in the morning before you get there, she will make you a peanut butter sandwich and bring sunchips and a soda for when you get off the plane.

She gets a serious case of the nerves. Sometimes.

She is as strong as she is fragile.

She lands on her feet.

I know, without a doubt, that this leap into the new decade can be a wonky one. And we all have our own experience with it. I also know that while there may be a day or two where we all go HOW THE HELL did this happen??- that this girl, our girl, my friendsistersoulmate is going to OWN this decade.

I’m forever grateful that she’s kept me along for the ride.

Happy Birthday sweet girl. I love you with my whole heart. We shall celebrate with uncommon levels of the ridiculous when you come home for Christmas. That’s a dang promise.

I’ve been behaving like a 16 year old girl this week.

Staying up late on school nights, putting off homework until the wee hours of the morning…because.

Listening to music and burning cd’s and daydreaming.

Lord.

I think I’ve Freaky Friday’d with someone’s kid. Anyone out there have a daughter that is unexpectedly grown up…wait wait. You probably can’t tell the difference. Nevermind.

I’m not mad about it though…

Yesterday at work tried to eat me. 10 clients. 10 hours of work. No time to pee. I finally ate my apple I brought for lunch..at 6:30 pm. But I’m not going to complain. I’ve been living like I have all kinds of financial security, so it’s time to get back on the horse. So to speak.

Tonight I get to see my family and my boys and hang out at The Frontier under the stars.

I betcha I wish on a shooting one tonight.

My wish is to still be the 16 year old…but with a little more sleep.

Happy Friday ya’ll.

 

 

Can someone be good at letting things go and not be good at forgiveness?

Can someone be good at making friends and connections and not be good at letting down their wall?

How do all of those contradictions live inside of a person without making them just batty as a june bug?

I had an email on Facebook today. From someone that was once very important in my life. They were important because they made someone that I love very much very happy. And then they didn’t. And that is the way the story goes. I had an email today from this person that began with:

I’m sure you’re not jumping up and down to get a message from me and I understand that, but felt the need to say thank you

Turns out they read my blog. They read Ruint Blessings and for some reason it struck a personal note with them and they wrote to tell me about it. It was one of the most kind and generous things ever written to me, moreover, it was about something that was personal to me and that I’d put down here.

I’m still kind of sitting here with my mouth open. Dumbstruck.

What a generous thing. To be kind enough to reach out to someone that you clearly think doesn’t like you, and to give compliment after compliment…

And I am a little heartbroken because I’ve never done anything to change the mindset that I disliked them. I just kind of blessed it and let it go…without clearing the air. Or asking for forgiveness for the part I played in the debacle.

I want to be someone that is authentic and honest and genuine. I want to create that for myself and attract that into my life. I am absolutely bumfuzzled as to how I can walk on this planet, with the Bless It And Let It Go motto, yet have someone still carrying the weight of my actions around. That’s just shitty. Shitty boombalitty. But I’ve since cleared the air, and there is forward motion and amends are made and moving on…

But it got me to thinking about the other dichotomies that I’m built on…

When will I be able to really let down this wall that I live behind? I mean, I know I’m pretty transparent as I lay most everything down somewhere on the internet, or in my daily relationships, or monthly confessionals to whoever the lucky person is on the phone. I feel like I’m doing a good job at being real. And at owning it, owning my choices. But…it’s not all open. Lord. Ya’ll should see what I’ve got tucked away in this attic of mine…stuff that I keep from you to protect you. I promise you that.

And I’m not suggesting it should be all out in the open. That’s just indecent and messy and no one needs to go slipping around in that muck and mire. What I’m wondering, what I’m thinking about is the act or process of revealing ones self. Opening up to another. It doesn’t come without risk.

sharing stories.

We’ve all got them. We’ve all got stories that made us who we are now. Some good. Some fabulous. Some tragic. But they’re ours.

Ours.

I think real connection comes from sharing. From risk.

That…that right there…makes my palms sweat.

It is a real fear that I have, to tell you the truth. That the people new to me, will be halfway through my book and slam it shut. Retreat. Back away slowly.

It’s happened before, but it was covered up in lies and deciet and I was none the wiser until they told me.

This is too much. I don’t like this. I’ve been lying and going along with you but I don’t like this at all.

Yeah. So. Well.

I am a lot.

I own that.

What I’ve discovered today, is that what I thought I figured out…was not. There is work to be done. Holy hell is there work to be done. Connection is risky. Forgiveness is an active thing. It’s not stagnant. Blessing it and letting it go is one thing, but really REALLY doing that, and making sure everyone involved understands where you’re coming from…well that’s another thing.

So it’s constant, isn’t it? This thing we’re all doing? This Once Around?

The email ended with:

 

… But that doesn’t stop me from appreciating your gift of writing and being grateful for the lesson you taught me in your “Ruint Blessings” post.
So thanks. I hope this season treats you and those you love, well. You’re a cool cat Misti…

Rock on.

 

Thank YOU, friend.

This lesson, you taught ME.