“It’s exhilarating to be alive in a time of awakening consciousness; it can also be
confusing, disorienting, and painful. This awakening of dead or sleeping con-
sciousness has already affected the lives of millions of women, even those who don’t
know it yet. It is also affecting the lives of men, even those who deny
its claims upon them. The argument will go on whether an oppressive economic class
system is responsible for the oppressive nature of male/female relations, or
whether, in fact, the sexual class system is the original model on which all the
others are based. But in the last few years connections have been drawn between
our sexual lives and our political institutions, which are inescapable and illumi-
nating. The sleepwalkers are coming awake, and for the first time this awakening has a collective reality; it is no longer such a lonely thing to open one’s eyes”–Adrienne Rich

I love that.

It’s no longer such a lonely thing to open one’s eyes.

Isn’t that the truth?

Adrienne Rich passed away yesterday. It’s a sad world that won’t get more of her words. She put words together so beautifully, so clearly stating the thoughts that are forever scrambled in my brain, trying to make it out onto the page.

She speaks clearly about motherhood, marriage and how her life was different, and how she wanted more than what these things were supposed to bring.

“…to be a female human being trying to fulfill traditional female functions in a traditional way is in direct conflict with the subversive function of the imagination.” 

Godspeed Ms. Rich…I miss you already.

—————————————————————–

In other news…

Tickets for the performance of Listen To Your Mother are on sale. They are general admission, so know that as you make your arrival plans.

Happy Thursday!

When I started this Grad School Thing, I facebook’d a guy I went to school with. We knew each other, but never hung or ran in the same circle. But because of the nature of social networking, we comment, email, like posts, all the time. He graduated from the same program I’m currently in and is working on his Ph.D. at OSU currently. He’s been a huge source of support these last months and I’m so grateful that the internet made us friends.

I say all of that to say this:

Last night, he posted that his sweet pup, Chaucer, was seizing. Pretty frequently. This afternoon they had to put him down at the vet. As we know, it’s a thing that hurts beyond measure. And as we know, treats for everyone. Extra love for those we’ve got here, in honor of those we’ve sent away.

• Finishing up applications for scholarships this week
• must grocery shop for real, clean foods
• banking
• response paper due tomorrow
• readings due for tomorrow and thurs
• papers assigned finally, with due dates and found out today a stupid group project for southern women class
• readings and watching the movie version of A Farewell to Arms before Monday

Mostly just trying to get a grasp on timelines and due dates and things that must be done in combination with both jobs and other social obligations. Must get spare room tidy and clean (it’s not dirty, just a holding space for cats and laundry right now) as I am taking in a boarder at the first of April.

Jumping back into the thick of it and it’s a little wobbly this week for me. I’m ready, though, for the routine. I find my tolerance for things such as people not listening during class, people not responding to my texts, and professors that are completely unorganized is at an all time low. I need to see McCracken, because my neck is just janky. I’ve got a stress knot in my shoulder that is just wrecking havoc, but who the hell has time or money for a massage these days? Pfffft. Not this chick.

Here’s what I’m happy about. The fact that I don’t have heat or air on right now. Just fans and screens open. My lawn is mowed. It’s all weeds and I do believe I will ignore that this year, but they’re mowed. I’m going to fire up my grill tonight. Make some lean hamburger patties to eat the rest of the week and grill some veggies. That makes me really happy.

 

 

My friend lost her brother in law suddenly this past week. Early 40s, heart attack, never regained consciousness.

I’m going to a benefit this afternoon in honor of Rudy. Proceeds to help his wife Hope deal with medical bills and the business of death. It will be a mixture of music and fun and friends and yet…the underlying obvious thing missing will be Rudy.

One of my clients is facing a biopsy this coming week on a tumor that was found.

I just finished a great weekend that was full of work, and live music, and laughing and bitching and lavender blueberry cobbler with a ginger butter crust.

The fact that all of this can all happen in the same calendar space is…interesting at the least, isn’t it?

Figuring out how to put one foot in front of another, juggling responsibilities like bills, and duties, work and home, employees and litter boxes, all the while keeping your soul filled with great gulps of optimism at what is ahead…it’s a thing. Indeed it is a thing.

I always have those things that gnaw at me. . . soundlessly gumming my outer layer of sanity away. . . about money, about my appearance, about what I should be doing better in my relationships, about how to not be taken advantage of while still living a generous life. And as with most things, I ebb and flow.

Hawk and I realized years ago, that we ebb and flow. We decided that we’re better off when we’re flowing, so we work at staying in that space. She gets it. So do I.

I know that when I’m eating right, moving around, keeping the bad things at bay, I feel better. Those things need to ebb. A whole lot of ebbing needs to start happening in that area. But you know, this whole damned blog is full of posts that say that very thing. It seems it’s just the circle I live in.

Wouldn’t it be nice, if we could all ebb and flow at our whim? If I could just blink and make it nice and tidy and organized and neat and timely? If the good could just outweigh the bad. If we could ebb the loss and flow the love. . .

Wouldn’t that just be nice.

 

So, last night I cried myself into an earache.

And while I know good and well it’s the allergies of the season, and I’ll hit the school clinic next week if it’s not better, still. It sounds better the other way around.

Last night I watched The Descendants. With my boyfriend George Clooney. I had heard that it was soul wrenching. I think subconsciously that’s why I didn’t see it in the theatre. My mental stability at the end of the semester and the beginning of this year couldn’t withstand a wrenching, of any kind. But last night, I chose to jump.

I think it’s one of the most beautifully told stories, beautifully crafted, the whole shebang, that I’ve seen in a long time. I did ugly cry. A real lot. It’s still with me this morning. The girl in it? Shailene Woodley? Amazing. She held her own in every single moment of the film.

But even as I was talking to friends online, I would tune right back up.

There are scenes, and not to give too much away, but there are scenes in which family members say goodbye to someone who is being taken off of life support. I think the honesty is what got me. Woof. It was hefty.

I followed that up with Being Elmo. It’s a documentary that’s on Netflix right now and I’ve been wanting to see it and thought that it would be the perfect pick me up after what I’d just watched. HOLY CRAP, I think I cried harder at that one. It’s a beautiful story. Beautiful. But there were tears…Lord. Lot’s of tears. Especially during the scenes of Jim Henson’s memorial service.

Today is slammed at work. The weekend is slammed with more fun. Then we’re back at it. School. Focus. Reading. Homework. Papers. Spring Break down, and onward until June. I have carpets that require deep cleaning. Stuff that has to be returned that I borrowed for Chris’ celebuneral. There’s lot’s left to check off the list before this break is over…but I’m kind of ready for some routine again.

My brain is just kind of mushy this morning. Rather than continue to blather nonsense, I’ll just say HAPPY FRIDAY YA’LL!! and peaceout.

 

Exactly one year ago today, I voiced to you, gentle readers, my desire for applying to grad school. It seems that my plan was initially to study British Literature. I think I was channeling Ma and my USAO experience.

I remember the night, it was a drunken debacle of a night after my friends mother’s funeral. It finished about 4am with Gert telling me, you really should do it. You really should.

I’d thought it before. Mostly in the shoulda woulda coulda file of my brain. Mostly when I thought about how I missed the boat. Mostly in the context of the graduate assistantship to Ole Miss that I gave up because at the time, I was married to a racist, slacker, pothead piece of fucktard, who said, “We are NOT moving to Mississippi. There’s nothing but black people there.”

It stuns me NOT that those words came out of his mouth. It stuns me that it took several more months before I would leave. Stuns me. 

However, that’s not the point of this story.

I was thinking about it, the seed had been planted way back in 1997. Gert added some tenderness and Miracle-Gro and love. Many conversations later, with Caro, with my sister, with many of you and here I am. At the end of May, after Spring semester and intersession, I’ll be 21 hours into my 32 hour program.

I look back on that post, and read your comments. I see Chris’ words, which are eerily comforting. Brought tears to my eyes. But that’s ok. They did a year ago, too. I see your support. From the very first time I wrote the words.

What a difference a year makes, eh?

Looking back on all of the obstacles, mostly self inflicted neuroses, I think…”man. I am SO GLAD I did this.” And as is usually the case I wish for 2012 MistiRidiculous to be able to go back and speak to 2011 MistiRidiculous and say,

“Girl. GIRRRRRRL. Take. A. Breath. Jump into it. Go. Figure it out. Steer clear of that bitch that teaches the Young Adult class, and get involved. You’re going to be just fine. You will still have your house, You will be crazy stressed, try to get some more sleep. But it’s all good. Take a breath and LEAP.”

I’m incredibly uncertain about the future. I’m crazy nervous about the next few semesters, about picking a thesis topic, about getting a thesis committee together. What in the name of Carrie Bradshaw am I going to wear if I get the TA position??? And seriously. Can ANYONE tell me what in heaven’s name am I going to do AFTER I GRADUATE??? Ph.d program? WHERE? What if no one wants me? What if I garner so much student loan debt that I just get buried under it? What if I never get hired by anyone? What if I’m totally a fraud and couldn’t teach a kangaroo to freakin hop???

This is where 2013 MistiRidiculous needs to show up and say,

” GIRRRRRRRL. Take a breath. It’s all fine. See? See how things have worked out? Take a breath. Leap.”

But since that never seems to happen without the aid of a magical baseball diamond in a cornfield…I’ll take comfort in words.

Yours. Mine. Ours. and Patty Griffin’s.

 

Relationships take work.

I know all of the platitudes, platitudes? Is that the word I want? perhaps…

“it should just be easy”

“if it’s work it’s not love”

“it should just come naturally”

So here’s the deal.

That, ALL of that is bullshit. Absolute one hundred percent BULLSHIT.

Relationships take work. In order for them to be a success, for them to thrive, due diligence must be paid. In this busy world, this thoroughly connected, overly booked world that we’re all living in, you must make a conscious decision to throw a little attention to your relationships. Pick up the phone. Send a text. Mail a card. Write an email. Connect on social media.

And if these connections are coming to you? It is imperative that you make the choice to stop for the five seconds it takes, and respond. Touch back.

I realize that there have been weeks and weeks that I just take take take. I will read a blog post and move on to the next one. I’ll read an email and not respond. Just take.

And that is self serving and if I let it go on long enough, just plain ass rude.

Relationships take work.

They take effort.

They require a choice. A choice to make time, be it five seconds or an entire day, to put that relationship at the top of the list.

I understand life is nuts. I feel like I am perfectly qualified to say that I UNDERSTAND a busy life. I know that it’s easy to take for granted those steadfast people in your rolodex, and push them to the back thinking, “they’ll understand.” And they probably will. We ebb and we flow, don’t we? In every area? It’s human nature.

But at some point, without a little tenderness, a little love, a the actual display of such…things dry up and dissolve. It’s so easy, isn’t it, to just tuck our heads and forge into the fray? Put on our blinders and focus on the endgame.

“as soon as I get this paper written.”

“wait till Spring Break”

“we’ll find some time, sometime…”

I’m so guilty of it. Absolutely. Taking for granted those people that have been in my solar system, rotating around, hanging there patiently waiting for time.

Are you?

Taking into consideration all that we’re all dealing with, trying to navigate this life, this year, this new path, it’s understandable when we get lazy. But the fact of the matter is it hurts to feel ignored. To be shoved to the back of the line. To consistently be denied that time. To be guaranteed 5th place.

This past weekend was exhausting. It really was. But it was worth every second on the road, driving in the rain, coming home and hanging out and watching tv till midnight with friends…totally worth it to throw a little tenderness and attention onto some relationships that I’ve been neglecting.

Time.

It’s infinite in it’s finiteness.

We’re all so aware of it this year.

So my goal, is to keep things flowing instead of ebbing. To be present, to be responsive. To give more than I take.

That kind of work?

Better than winning the lottery.

So.

I got cast!

WOOT WOOT!!!!

If you want to come see me please get your tickets right now. as in yesterday. 

Look, ya’ll…they’re only 18 bucks.

SO. go. get em.

Right now, I have had a weekend full. Full of LIVING THIS LIFE.

Edward Sharpe was absolutely stupidgood. SO GOOD. It was spiritual. We laughed and cried and danced. I recorded two songs that I will attempt to upload. i.e. I will have Trish attempt to upload. We sang, we talked. We came back to our hotel and laughed some more. We danced. We (the grownups…term used loosely) had a night cap(s)

And we talked about living this life. Trish and I BOTH had a crazy lead in to tonight’s event. crazy busy. But as she said, “ya know what? WHY NOT???”

why not indeed.

so. tonight I got cast in a show where I will go speak about not being a mother. and I danced crazy at a venue that for me, is just a spiritual experience. I saw some friends there, and I end this weekend with girls that I love, having seen family that I love, feeling like I’m loved in return.

what more…I ask you?

We’re halfway through the mega weekend…this morning I made pancakes (real ones not microwaved ones) and we’re just sitting around witching nick on tv.

Yesterday was frantic. After working a wedding Friday night, and laughing my ass of with Rach, (it was a wedding for the books, ya’ll. lot’s of laughing) I got up and got on the road Saturday to head to Fayetteville for my 1pm audition. I got there extra early, which was fine with me. I didn’t really know where I was going, and wanted to make sure I had plenty of time to just adjust and be calm and get prepared.

I think the audition went well. I read, my voice was a little shakey with emotion and adrenaline. I got great response from the three women, lots of laughing and good vibes…until…until I got to the part where I state that I am Not a mother. And when I said that I was from OKC. And it was probably my insecure voices. Because we all know those bitches are loud. So. we’ll see.  We find out tonight. Either way, and I’m one hundred percent honest about this, if I don’t get picked to perform I’m fine. It’s the first time someone read my words and said, We Like This. It was an amazing affirmation. It’s like when you write something and get a billion comments. Comments are a warm fuzzy blanket of affirmation.

If I don’t get picked it means no crazy driving to Arkansas for rehearsals and performance. No spending 100 bucks per weekend round trip. That’s cool.

If I do get selected, then equally great. What an honor.It will be an amazing thing, and I have already got plans for Trish and I to submit for OKC to be a venue for next year in Oklahoma City…and for Infant Crisis Center to be our charity.

So. We find out tonight. Onwards and upwards.

I’m about to start bangin hair. But I’m afraid I forgot a brush and a bottle…I may have to run into town and find something at walmart or if there is an ulta or something.

Crisis averted here.

Last night I got to see my sisters new house. it’s BIGGER THAN THE BLUE BANANA!!! I can’t wait for them to get into it and get settled…the holidays are going to be awesome this year.

They have an offer on theirs and we’re all on pins and needles waiting to see if it goes through.

THEIR COUNTER OFFER WAS ACCEPTED! THE STRESS IS OVER!

 

Tonight I head to Tulsa for the Edward Sharpe concert. YAY live music! Trish has been at SXSW this week and is texting me new music that she’s watching. I’m so excited to download all of it and start having new tunes! Which, I just scratched off a code of an itunes gift card and damned if I didn’t scratch too hard and removed half of the number. flop.

what else?

Oh yeah. The Universe is presenting me with several things. I’m taking in a boarder, for a few nights a week for the next 8 weeks. My sister has a student intern at work that is coming to OKC for her school nutrition rotation. She’ll stay with me a few nights and I’ll get some extra cash. I also have another friend who’s looking for a place to stay. We’re going to talk about it tomorrow.

This is good. I have some tax debt to pay coming up. I have a trip to San Diego coming up this year. There’s things I could certainly use the extra cash for.

So. That’s it from here. Hope you’re soaking up some good time this weekend.

After class yesterday, I scrambled around to re-do my application for a teaching assistant position for next Fall. I worked between clients. I attached information above and beyond the requirements. Between clients I ran home, got my USAO transcript and was drove right to the Quick Print that is a few stops down from my salon…closed.

By the time I finished with clients, it was 7:30. And while there was NO cut off time for submissions, by the time I got everything locked and loaded, my information refused to upload and stayed hanging, incomplete, in cyber limbo.

I called the number listed and left a message last night about 8:15 when I finally gave up. I also called and left a message this morning. But it’s the Friday before Spring Break and I’m sure everyone has left the building.

It kind of knocked the wind out of my sails last night. This morning, after a decent night’s sleep with the windows open and my summer blanket on the bed, I’m fine with it. If it doesn’t happen, so be it. It means I won’t have to use one of my class times taking a pedagogy for teaching assistants class. If it does happen, I’ll get to stretch my muscles, get out of my comfort zone and become part of a group. The T.A.’s are a tight knit little community and it would be nice to be a part of that. I bless it and let it go. I take pride in the fact that I didn’t give in to my fear and let the voices win.

But don’t we all have those voices? No matter what the persona we extend to the public, don’t we all have those moments where we just want to curl up under the covers and hide? Cindy commented that she was surprised that I had those fears…but I know that we all do. Fear of failure. Fear of rejection. For the most part I’ve conquered them in these 41 years on the planet. But some days…some of those days…BAM. They sneak up and smack you on the ass so hard you kind of expect a kiss afterward.

I suppose the key is to be able to navigate through that quagmire of fear and get to the other side. I don’t think you have to be especially brave, or extraordinarily gifted in deflecting the rejection that goes hand in hand with fear. I think, though, that you do need a tribe of extraordinarily outrageous people, who are especially fearless, waiting for you on the shore, beating the drum, sounding the horn, dancing and clapping and cheering you on.

With that kind of support, who needs a life jacket?