I’ve been to all three of my classes at this point. I’m officially overwhelmed about some aspects of every one of them. The workload, the papers, the research, the time suck that they will all take…

I’m underwhelmed by some aspects of some of them as well. I didn’t know my graduate classes would have a mix of grad and undergrad students in them. I didn’t know that my YA Fiction class would be probably more of a methods class for the English Ed undergrad majors. I’m sure I would have known some or all of these things had I had any kind of advisement, or orientation upon enrollment…but what’s done is done.

I’m doing my best not to let anyone else’s perceptions and experiences color my own before I can make my own mind up about it. That’s one of the most difficult things, actually. People mean well, and any guidance is nice but…it’s my experience. Mine.

I’ve made it to all my classes on time. I was actually 40 minutes early this morning. (that 9am class was, in fact, a 9:30 class.) Parking hasn’t been too terrible except for when I tried to find something close to the library today after class. That was a joke. It was jokier than a joke. My classmates are…indifferent. The grad students have all (it seems) been together throughout undergrad and have a cohesive unit established already–or–they’re those academic crazy cat ladys that like to throw around established authors of literary criticism  on the first day of class. Ugh.

I miss being part of a group. . . and it seems like that was an instant thing at USAO. But that was because my then fiance had been going there, and I had been hanging out on the weekends for a year previous. . . even though I would find my own group eventually I did have a built in cushion.

The work is enormous. I’m working at scheduling my time, getting organized now that I have my information and due dates and whatnot. The discipline its going to take is…GAK.

But for what it’s worth I’m in it! In it to win it!

 

I have been fixated on getting a desk for my study for some time now.

I’ve searched on craigslist. I’ve looked at Wal-Mart. I looked at Goodwill.

The elusive desk was out there, I knew it. It was like this missing piece to the puzzle.

I’ve gotten rid of furniture, I’ve moved what I had left around and made my space a more conducive place for study.

My YaYa Tammie has been texting me for a few months that she has one I could have. Measurements worked out. It seemed a good fit.

With plans made with the Pseudo Sisters to borrow a truck and drive over to pick it up and haul it back, it seemed that the final piece of my puzzle was going to be in place before school started.

I could breathe easy.

The desk fell completely apart once we got it to my house.

Like…in pieces-fell apart.

We had a posse of help at the house, moving, lifting, shifting. And we all just kind of looked at it. Piece by piece. On the front steps.

Brokedown.

We laughed, loaded up the pieces in Josh’s truck so he could dump them and continued on with our day.

It was, however, the beginning of my unraveling. Piece by piece it seemed that my school puzzle was going to come unraveled. I was focusing on finding my classes, the scenarios kept playing over and over. Taking the wrong books. Being in over my head. Wearing clothes that were uncomfortable. Being so brain dead by the time my second class begins that I just fall asleep. Nonsensical scenarios playing out with the pomp and pagentry of a Broadway show. Starring all The Voices in all their glory.

I came home. Watched a few eps of Friday Night Lights. And took a quarter of a xanax. I called Lynn to come over and watch True Blood. I mowed the back yard. And I made brownies.

It was just the thing I needed. Someone to just say, “tell me exactly what it is you’re scared of.” Someone to just be here to eat a brownie with me. It was perfect.

She’s not the only guide in my life. I’ve been blessed for years to have people who will love me, who will support me and who will break it down and spell it out.

When I graduated high school, my English teacher wrote me a letter and enclosed a little money as a gift. As a student you would expect me to grab that cash and move on down the road. But the letter was something that struck a chord, stayed with me.

Dated May 24, 1989

“…You have so much ahead of you. Just remember that you can have whatever you want.  But…you will have to pay for it, either in effort, patience, determination, or maybe with tears and self-respect.  The tricky part will be in deciding whether what you want will be worth the cost. In the final analysis you will get what you pay for! Go for it! We’re proud of you and if you ever need anything we’ll try to be here for you.”

I’ve kept that letter. I framed it way back then and have moved it with me throughout the years. There have been tears. There has been effort. There have been what some would call false-starts, but what I would call opportunities. Some of the opportunities were, in fact, not worth the cost. I’ve started over, rebooted, turned a corner more than one probably should in one lifetime. I’m not in that secure safe place that one would expect a 40 year old to be in. But its my one time around on this planet and apparently…this is how I’m going to do it.

As I was reading it last night, it occured to me that I’ve had this beautiful, guiding tribe surrounding me and leading me from day one. On this world, in the next one. . . always watching out and sending me strength.

There’s no way I’ll get lost today with that kind of backup.

 

I cut my cable back to nill yesterday. I’ve still got HBO until TrueBlood is over. I’ve got back up plans for Dexter and Mad Men. And I’ve still got my $8.00 a month for Netflix streaming.

Mike and  I were talking about how getting rid of all the clutter of the channels forced him to become a more active viewer rather than a passive one. I like that. I like making a conscious decision about what I’m feeding my brain rather than just numbingly snacking on crap channel after channel after channel.

I’m happy with my thought out decision. Just pulling the plug. I admit I did up my internet speed. I’ll be streaming more from Netflix and wanted to make sure there were no problems. But still. Savings is savings.

My latest viewing addiction is Friday Night Lights. I cannot recommend a show more. I watched 6 hours last night. SO GOOD. Quality.

it occurs to me…this is also a nice little way to think about life, eh?

Active living vs Passive Living

Purposefully choosing what we do with our life rather than the opposite.

Taking the power back over things that seem to rule us. Pulling the plug.

Moving forward.

 

I had some panicky moments yesterday but after the bills got paid, I said a prayer of thanks, took stock of what I’ve got to live on and what I really need to buy. My austerity plan is in motion and I have faith that it’ll all be ok. I’m looking at cutting back in the cable department again. I can depend on the kindness of others who have it for a change. I can figure out how to get my fix elsewhere. I’ve got a payment that goes to my workout place…gah. It’s time to get back there. That won’t end till the spring so I need to just giddy up.

It seems like today, though, that I have just let it all weigh down on me. I wanted to get up and ride, but finally had a night of uninterrupted sleep and just stayed in bed resting. I need to borrow the mower and weedeater and do some yardwork. Theres stuff that needs be done and I’ve got most of the day free to do it.

Yet I just sit here. Chatting on FB about everyone’s first day of school, catching up on emails, drinking coffee.  It’s like my body knows that the time of lazy is tick tocking away and next week I’ll be slammed crazy again.

But I’m happy with my austerity plan. It’s almost a relief to know that while things are scary in the bank, every day spending nothing is another day better.

The clock is counting down….just a few more days until That Grad School Thing becomes Reality. I’ve noticed that I’m getting antsy.

Antsy about everything.

About money. I forgot to pay some bills at the first of this month. This has happened maybe two or three times this year and I NEVER do this. (except for the two or three times I’ve done it this year) I’m worried about my new work schedule, and making the money I need to make. I’m jittery and antsy about it and have already started thinking about where I can cut back. Working on an Austerity Plan. No more eating out, drinking out…which pretty much kills the social life but if my friends dont understand then really. Not my friends. Right?

About the workload. Have I bitten off too much? Am I going to be able to DO THIS THING??? sheesh.

I know there’s other things I’m antsy about, but I can’t remember them because I’m a little focused on the Money and the Workload.

I’m also fixated on getting a desk for my study. My doors have been installed, my back room is almost perfect…But for that imaginary desk. Clearly, I’m focused on the desk because it’s something I can control. I’m trying to figure out who has a truck I can borrow because YaYaTammie has one I can have, but it’s big and won’t break down to fit into my car and she lives in Yukon. Gah. Roadblock. Navigate around it. I’ll figure it out.

So that’s me. Just a bundle of nerves today. I’m going to have some peanut butter toast then get some bills paid, and I need to go to the grocery store. However. I may go ride my bike awhile instead.

Happy Humpday, ya’ll.

It’s been no secret that I lovelovelove the book The Help. Many months ago, M’Lynn sat across a table from me, grasped my hands and said, “you MUST read this book….it affected me.”

It was a few weeks/months later when Kathy finished reading for her book club and loaned me a copy. (apparently I was on an austerity plan that included not buying new hardback books for myself, because I cannot imagine why I didn’t run out and buy it immediatly???) But I digress. I read the book in five minutes. It was fat girl at the buffet binging on the words…the first novel of this author. I loved it. It was a beautiful story of courage, and not fitting into the status quo yet still marching along. It was a story of women and friendship, two things that will always get me.

Now, I know some of you read it and went, “meh” and that’s ok. Different strokes, ya know. The blessings of being different. However, I did NOT go “Meh”. I went out and bought a copy, and then was gifted a copy and immediatly passed them both out for others to read. I then told every client I knew who liked to read to run to get a copy. Because, that’s just what I do.

Wednesday, the movie version came out.

We (all of us that love the book) had been trepidatious about this movie, as book lovers usually are. But I had faith in it and couldn’t wait to see it.

Trish and Gabe and I made plans to see it opening night. We had a special dinner at The Melting Pot then hit the 9:30 movie. We loved it. Laughed. Cried. Loved.

I turned around and Sunday, Isabelle and Audra and I went to brunch at Cheevers and then hit the matinee. Bigger audience this time, lots of laughter and clapping and audience participation. Still the tears. Still the laughter.

I love having these special experiences with these women. I couldn’t have asked for better. The perfect girl’s night/day!

The movie was different. They changed a lot, rearranged and left out some stuff as happens when it goes to screen. But I loved it. I’m happy to have seen it. I love Emma Stone. I love Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer. I love the bond of these characters and the strength of their spirit. I love that they truly take care of each other. They are a witness to their lives, standing strong for the ebb and flow of it all. What a blessing.

I know how they feel.

It’s my last free Monday. I’m going to be lazy and productive. I’m going to finish reading Little Women. I’m going to watch some tv on Netflix.  I’m going to have dinner with Caro tonight. And we’ll see what else arrives.

I took the day off today to help give a baby shower for one of my friends from high school. Yeah. Late bloomer. Whatever. She is just the most amazing mother I’ve ever seen and I’m all for adding more babies to the group! So we gathered for a brunch shower and laughed at all the little girls, and oohd and aaahd over presents and shed a few tears and then chased them away with laughter.

It was beautiful.

As I drove away, sweet Alli’s voice of “Iloveyou!!!” ringing in my ears, I just was overwhelmed with this feeling of peace. . . of grace. How blessed am I to have these fabulous people who are so generous with their families and love. How blessed.

It was just an amazing way to start the weekend.

I got new tires for The Bike! Tubes with goo and new tires with some different tread and I’m excited! I’m going to have a nice morning ride tomorrow.

My handyman installed new front and back doors at my house today, too. My backdoor is a sliding glass door. And the original installation was janky. Everything those people touched in this house…just janky. It wasn’t even locking anymore, and you could see where it wasn’t even closing. . . there goes that a/c! So. I decided before school starts to get a new one. My front storm door is a solid glass door. No screen. Now, it has a screen. It totally changes the look of my front porch, the red door isn’t really visible but I could care less about that. The back door is in. It locks. But because of aforementioned jankiness he’s got to come back tomorrow and then finish the whole thing Tuesday. But…it’s done. And it’s secure. And it’s more efficient. And I feel good about that.

It’s Saturday night, I’m home watching movies and thinking about straightening things up around here, throwing in some laundry, changing the sheets…and I’m just happy not to have to go anywhere, be anywhere, do anything. I’m happy.

I was on the phone with my friend Mike two nights ago. We text and talk just about weekly, especially during the summer months as we like to rehash the week’s episode of True Blood. Mike and I have been friends since ’97 and he is part of my heart. He and his wife have been trying to sell their house. It’s a bad financial deal and they just need need NEED to sell…

Two months on the market and things were getting desperate. When we were talking he mentioned forward motion…that was a goal.

“you know when you’re stuck in traffic, and you switch lanes only to go just another car length, or just a mile or two faster than you were…it just makes you FEEL better about it? You’re not necessarily going to get to the destination faster, but because you are in motion, your head wraps around it and you just feel better.”

We talked of his plans for his family and their forward motion, and seriously, I think the house heard us talking. I think we aligned our mojo and threw it at the situation.

They got an accepted offer on their house last night.

It got me to thinking, though…about Forward Motion as more than just a phrase tossed out in a conversation and more about how it applies as a life theme.

Newton’s First Law of Motion states:

 

I. Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it.

There are the obvious connections, the bike riding, moving the furniture and clutter around and out of my space, the grad school thing, taking the next steps in life…but think about it a little deeper.

Or better yet, think about the opposite.

When we’re stuck.

It’s so easy to get stuck.

My personal sticking point is usually first and foremost my weight. I struggle with it. I know who I am and what I really look and feel like inside this body, and I can do amazing things to counteract and continue forward motion in regards to it…but one little somethin, one little external force…a bad Christmas, a dismal lonely winter, bills and fear of money and how I manage it, insecurity and loneliness and desperation, a fight with someone I regarded as a true friend…any of those things can stop me in my tracks. Road blocks. And the only path that I can walk leads right to the fridge or the drive through or to the wine rack.

Then it becomes a vicious circle. The weight makes me feel ugly and unloveable and like I will never have a healthy relationship again…and those Voices are in four part goddamned harmony, singin’ out louise, and I eat and drink to drown them.

Stuck.

In a circle.

Look kids! Big Ben! Parlament!

And then, with a little forward motion, and perhaps a change of scenery…the circle is broken. It comes in the most secret times of the day. The darkest times of the night, but it comes.

And clarity can return, bit by bit.

And MY voice becomes more resonant and clear than The Voices, and begins to drown them out.

It’s just a kernal. . . an idea planted.

It’s just a step. . . five minutes to breathe gratefully by yourself.

It’s eating a vegetable. . . drinking water.

It’s just a car length ahead. . . a mile or two faster.

Forward Motion.

It’s become a touch stone for me this week, I think, because it’s attainable.

An object that is in motion tends to stay in motion…the trick is staying in motion. Knowing how to maneuver around the road blocks, navigate through the traffic.

It’s just a car length ahead. . . a mile or two faster.

 

Taking full advantage of my free weekends, I had one that was just chock full of goodness. Friday night, Saturday night, Sunday morning, Sunday night…all spent with friends. I’m just stockpiling all the energy that I’ve been running so low on this year…yesterday I spent the entire day on the couch/in the bed napping/ back on the couch. I only went out for foodstuffs once. . . until the storm blew through.

We had crazy ass 70 mph winds, hail, sideways rain. The electricity went off and on and off and on. It was scary a little in that I had no tv. The a/c seemed to be acting a fool last night, but eventually it went back to work and cooled the house.

Today involves getting laundry done, grocery shopping, a client this afternoon, and then to school to finish off the last bits of enrollment, i.e. books, parking sticker, et al.

The storm brought in some cool weather. It’s only getting to 99 here today and the world seems a better, nicer place. I know it can’t keep it up forever. It has to break eventually. . . right?

I should’ve been on my bike this morning but SP is still holding it hostage. That’s on my list too. Get the bike back.

Have a day, ya’ll.

 

Life is like riding a bicycle – in order to keep your balance, you must keep moving.  ~Albert Einstein

 

I’ve been muddling over the idea of this new bike riding venture as a metaphor for my new life. The whole idea of forward motion, moving into the New, leaving the Old in the rear view…there are lot’s of things to take into consideration when you’re on a bike. Balance is the biggest thing I struggle with, and if you’ve read here for any amount of time you know that it’s a struggle that permeates my entire life. I strive daily to get it together. Keep it in line. Keep moving. Keep moving. Keep your focus on where you want to go.

Yesterday…I fell down.

Like really fell down. Crashed my bike. It was as if something took control of my brain…I lost focus…lost balance…overcompensated so that I wouldn’t crash into Sean Patrick and hurt him and down I went.

I. Fell. Down.

Yes, I hurt. My knee and elbow look like someone’s been trying to zest me. There was lots of blood and oozing. My head hit the ground pretty hard and I sent up a word of thanks to my new purple helmet. As I lay on the ground covered in asphalt and grass, grabbing my knee and praying not to see bone when I looked at it, all the Voices came blazing in, swords drawn, chanting, “YOU CAN’T DO THIS. GO HOME. GO HOME.”

I really hate those bitches.

SP sacrificed his water to cleanse my wounds and rinse off most of the blood.

I fought with the Voices in those few minutes of recovery. I thought about going home, because we were only 5 minutes into the ride. I thought about the blood running down my leg and how much it hurt. And I thought about Life. And how many times I have fallen and lay there bruised and bloody. And how the Voices will use that tiny opening to blow the crap off of the locked door and race in, eager to take control. I thought of how I can’t really remember exactly what made me lose balance, lose focus, and overcompensate myself to the ground, but I’ve been here before…written about it all before.

“How is it, that I am here. Again.”

“When will I learn this lesson.”

“Why can’t it just be easy for awhile.”

Money. Weight. Relationships with men. Relationships with family. Career. Anger. Forgiveness. Love. Fear.

Loss of balance. Loss of focus. Overcompensate.

It happens. Daily. Doesn’t it? And man, it’s hard to get back up. It’s hard to get up time and time again. Because it’s risky. There could be another fall. There could be more blood and bruising. There could possibly be more failure and chanting from The Voices.

Or.

Or there could be the hands of a best friend pulling you up, washing you off, making Janet Jackson Rhythm Nation-knee pad/elbow pad jokes and cheering you on.

It’s a choice, isn’t it? This life. This ride.

I could either lay there, or get up.

I got up.

And we rode.

7 + miles.

 

Homeslices- 7+  Asphalt-0