I got a text last night from one of my best friends in Arkansas asking me to take my Oklahoma weather back. Apparently they’ve been in the eye of the shitstorm, tornados, massive amounts of rain…Springtime weather and they’re getting OURS!

I won’t complain, we had two days of rain which has helped the giant cracks in my backyard. (not a euphemism) It also helped soak in the sod in the front. Easter was blissful as I spent it with Bonusmom at her church and then at the Frontier for Easter Dinner. We had pork tenderloin, fresh salad with greens and onions from the garden, strawberries and mandrin oranges, an onion souffle thing that I’ve been dreaming about since, muffins and homemade cookies and wine.

RIGHT???

What is it about having a meal prepared by someone else that makes it even better? I slurped it up. Came home, and almost forgot to rejoin Facebook before I took a nap!

I’m back on, plugged in and commenting. I got lots of support in locating my vaccination files to send in, completing my grad school application. Seriously…I’m freakin 40 years old! Why in the world would I have a copy of my shot records? Or think to need it? Welp…apparently there was a law passed in 2004 and yes. It’s needed. BUT I found it, made a trip to BatShitCrazyTown and got to have a few minutes with my best friend as a bonus.

I completed my first day of the 8 day cleanse/detox. By the end of the day I had the most horrendous headache. I love chips. Carbs. CHIPS. I’m good today, though. Feel fine. I roasted a turkey breast last night for my eating this week. Starting that process at 7pm wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.

What else?

THE ROYAL WEDDING approaches!!!

Yeah, I’m giddy. I’m REALLY excited. The only thing I’m working on now is which coverage to dvr. To be sure, I’ll be up and awake to watch it live…but I want to record it too. Any ideas? TLC I think will be one that I use. They’ve got it together this week.

Ok kids. That’s it for me today. Diving into another week of Salon/Job 2. We’ve got social gatherings this week as Noodle has her Opening Night of Our Town, Norman Music Festival is this weekend, and of course THE WEDDING.

Halakaleem, Huzzuah, Happy Tuesday and I love George Clooney. Cheers!

I gave up Facebook for Lent.

You might have heard about it.

God knows, I have.

When I sat in the church I was trying on for size, the thought came to me. Perhaps I was dozing. Perhaps I was in the MOMENT. Perhaps I was right along with the Lady Pastor. Perhaps I was gassy. Whatever the case, the words, “FACEBOOK” were front and center in my brain as I was thinking about the upcoming Lenten season and how I would let it play into my life.

Let me give you a little history, lest you think me a zealot, or a Beater, or (Godblessyou) a harlot.

I was not raised to observe Lent.

From the time I can remember, I was a functioning member of the First Baptist Church of El Reno, Oklahoma. 70306.

It was a good place. I was at home and comfortable there. I made life decisions and solidified them within the hands of my PaPa at that church. I was and am still, ok with that basis for my moral compass. I have many blessed memories that are based solely on that church as a structure, and as a family.There are many many more that, if I let it, could outweigh the positive. I choose, this day, not to do that.

But the bottom line was that we sat through Big Church, wondering what it would be like to paint our nails like Ariel did in Footloose. I realize that I read my first Joan Collins book at Tabernacle in Falls Creek…but that’s a whole nuther post. We sat through Big Church. We listened vaguely to the words that were, on any given Sunday, etched into the powder blue carpet with fire and brimstone. And because we only knew what one of those things were, (dude. I had to google brimstone.) we added the phrase You’re Tarnished and I’m Not to the tone of the day. We passed the plate, we saw our parents put in their tithe check, we sang a few verses of “Just As I Am” and then we bolted.

No judgement on the curriculem of the flavor of Jesus that I was raised in…it just was what it was.

Fast forward through a marriage to a Preacher’s Kid. One who spoke in tongues. A flavor of Jesus that was, frankly, more  “Donny -I’m a little bit rock and roll-Osmond” to my more familiar “Marie-I’m a little bit country and have better hair-Osmond.” I got comfortable there, and as I am want to do from time to time…I fit myself into that mold.

Fast forward to a fabulous mind blowing stint at college where I sat in front of my mentor, crying, saying…”but this isn’t what my grandpa taught me.”

Fast forward through the years, though the travels, through unimaginable losses and extraordinary gains. Thorough thoughts once absolutely forsaken, and conversations that made me question everything. Into  a space of acceptance and tolerance and for lack of a better word…comfortable squishy-ness.

It was a place that I had carved out for myself. Through all of the books and the talks and the words and the talk shows and the movies and the music and the nights that started at a sunset and ended at a sunrise…I found my solid ground. I found my operating system. I figured out that I really liked tradition…and tolerance. I was as equally at home with some crushed velvet cushions  as I was with hand raising, lighting candles, and a little bass guitar.

Lent falls into that Yahtzee in some way.

So this year, I gave up Facebook.

What was amazing to me, one who is, to this day, unapologetic about my love for the medium, was how my brain was so programed for social networking. Now, look…ever since I was about 4 years old, all I ever wanted was a big house to hold everyone I loved in it. I cry at goodbyes. I hate being parted from those pieces of my heart that are my family and friends…one in the same really. So in THIS world? On THIS plane of reality? EVERYONE I love lives in my computer…lives in my phone…at their ready…merely waiting for the tap of my fingertips to call them into service.

God Bless Facebook.

I found old friends. I made new old friends. I made old new friends. I got clients. I got services…taxes and plumbing and shingles, OH MY! It was a party with constant comments and it fed me.

It FED me.

And when it was gone…I was hungry. And more than that…I was left alone. It felt like the world was having a party…and I was not invited. Even though it was my choice to not attend. The loneliness was palpable. My routine had huge gaping holes in it…mornings were left without a purpose…all of my “happy birthdays” drying up. Going to waste. All of my witty quips, my status updates hanging in the air, unused and just lining the walls…waiting for someone to ask them to dance.

It became very sad, very quickly, at how much I depended on this medium…to qualify my life and the way I was living it.

And here’s the thing. My life did not and does not suck. I’m not saying that at all. I stand by my love for the social networking. Anyone who is blessed enough to have friends all over the world NEEDS this technology. I’m just saying that, for me…it was a substitute for reality. For quality. For authentic living.

Once my mind got calm, once the chatter and the postings and the updates went their own seperate ways…I started to see that I was living in the moment. I was actually enjoying this meal instead of taking pictures and posting it for everyone to see. I was leaving my phone in the car, in my purse, turned to silent for minutes, even hours at a time.

WHAT THE HELL???

yeah. I know.

I reached some pretty decent life decisions during this time of reflection. These past forty days, I have given myself permission to figure some shit out. I’ve given myself permission to fall apart and to be cranky and to understand that sometimes it’s okay to be bitchy about the state of the kitchen and the one winged flying birds that seek solace from the murdering cats in there. I’m okay with the dishwasher being run when only half full. I’m okay with the fact that I have no idea how to deal with all of the new tv’s/wires that are in my home. And I’m okay with the fact that my goals in life…don’t necessarily match up with those that are around me. Dishes can stack, laundry can spoil, stacks of paper can gather…all of that just doesn’t mean life or death to me. But the fact that my mind is clear enough to reach those decisions?

That’s pretty ding danged awesome.

So.

I applied to grad school.

I disconnected with suplurfous “friends”

I decided what was true and what was necessary for authentic living.

I ate easy mac. Velveeta style.

I had a date with a man.

I had a second date with a man who turns out was married….and paid for our date with gift cards.

I read many books. Lamb. American On Purpose. The Celestine Prophecy.

I paid off some debts.

and I got used to my own thoughts…and for the first time in a long time…I kind of felt that those thoughts…were funny. and quirky. and sometimes profound. . . maybe even post-worthy.

I didn’t ever miss Facebook per se… I didn’t miss getting “poked” or having a cyber “sex on the beach” given by someone who was a hateful skank to me in junior high. I didn’t miss passive aggressive status updates, begging me to comment about clearly fucked up relationships or disasterous shoe purchases. I don’t miss getting my feelings hurt by being defriended. or being HATED in someone elses status update. I don’t miss feeling anger at the idiots that are trashing Prince William and his lack of hair and how he used to be “the cute one.”

I missed my friends. My tribe of crazy, cranky, joyful, encouraging, raunchy, bawdy, sweet friends.

There is a passage in LAMB, by Christopher Moore, that I’d like to share. (I just finished the book yesterday…and by crying myself silly at the end, I passed a friendship test. THANK GOD! )

The scene is between Joshua (the Jesus character) and his best friend Biff (the narrator) who are working out an early draft of the Sermon on the Mount. Joshua is advocating for “Blessed are the dumbfucks” (though they seem only to be getting fruit baskets), and Biff is calling to edit out the dumbfucks .

“How many is that?”
“Seven.”
“Not enough. We need one more. How about the dumbfucks?”
“No, Josh, not the dumbfucks. You’ve done enough for the dumbfucks. Nathaniel, Thomas –”
“Blessed are the dumbfucks for they, uh — I don’t know–they shall never be disappointed.”
“No, I’m drawing the line at dumbfucks. Come on, Josh, why can’t we have any powerful guys on our team? Why do we have to have the meek, and the poor, the oppressed, and the pissed on? Why can’t we, for once, have blessed are the big powerful rich guys with swords?”
“Because they don’t need us.”
“Okay, but no ‘Blessed are the dumbfucks.’”
“Who, then?”
“Sluts?”
“No.”
“How about the wankers? I can think of five or six disciples who would be really blessed.”
“No wankers. I’ve got it. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake.”
“Okay, better. What are you going to give them?”
“A fruit basket.”
“You can’t give the meek the whole earth and these guys a fruit basket.”
“Give them the kingdom of heaven.”
“The poor in spirit got that.”
“Everybody gets some.”
“Okay, then, “share the Kingdom of Heaven.”” I wrote it down.
“We could give the fruit basket to the dumbfucks.”
“NO DUMBFUCKS!”
“Sorry, I just feel for them.”
“You feel for everyone, Josh. It’s your job.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot.”

 

I’m glad to have my brain cleared of the chatter.

I’m glad to have learned to practice some peace.

I’m glad to get back to all of my friends, what that live right here in my compter.

Because even we dumbfucks need support every now and again.

And maybe…just maybe…

a fruit basket.

 

 

 

I have sod in my front yard! SOD! SOD I SAY!!! the muy expensive fat thick fabulous grass that lives in the yards of people that have their proverbial shit together! How in the world, you ask, did I get such a thing?

Delbert “rescued” it from the middle of a fairly busy road…she’s very sure she wasn’t stealing as it literally was in the middle of a road being run over by some traffic. Just her and her pitchfork. Playing frogger with the traffic. She rolled up to my house so that we could go celebrate Mr. Clift at a party with a suv full of sod. We unrolled it out last night at 11:30! I am now watering, feeding, and fertalizing the front yard which has minimal brown dirt bald spots! We’ve been through all kind of escapades together, with so many more to come. This is, however, the kind of thing she does for a friend. I’m lucky lucky lucky to have her. So is my yard!

It’s been a busy and kind of long week here at Brokedown Palace. The final week of Lent. If I had just a penny for everyone that’s asked me about Facebook in some way or another, I’d have enough dough to take us ALL on a vacation! It’s amazing. I’m going to celebrate Easter with Bonusmom tomorrow and then we’ll lunch together somewheres. Perhaps the Frontier. Perhaps a place where someone else will cook. Either way, I’m looking forward to it so much! I love this tradition.

So maybe that’s why the week was long. The days were long ones. Office in the 8:30 hour, Salon until the 7pm hour. Long days, crazy sleep. One night last week I took the last three of my melatonin (which Shirley MacLaine says is good for growing your hair!) and STILL I woke up at 1:30am. Grrrrr. The last two weeks, by the time Thursday arrives? I’m SURE it’s Saturday. Seriously.

I finished reading Lamb. I loved it so much. I can’t wait for any of you to read it and talk with me about it.

I’ve had such great response and support for The Grad School Thing. One of my clients is also in that same program and said it took about four weeks for her to hear. We’ll cross fingers.

Looking forward this at what this year has unfolded and could possibly bring has occupied a lot of my brain juice as of late. I’ve only got 10 weeks left with my roommate. Really, counting her vacation to Mexico, and my trip to the music festival, only about 8 of co-habitation. Moving forward. It’ll be strange but kind of nice to live alone again. It’s been a good adventure thus far which I don’t think anyone expected. Co-habitation is difficult. It’s hard when you have the fringe benefit of sex with your partner or spouse. But I think we’ve done a good job. I’ve already got plans for moving some stuff out of the back room into the guest room when I have it back so that’s kind of exciting. I have someone who may be crashing for a month between leases in July, so the timing works out perfectly.

Hopefully I’ll begin classes in August and by that time the back room will have become my study/office. I’ll be looking for a desk. But I do hope to make it some place that I can work on my homework, and keep myself organized.

Classes. Homework. tee hee hee hee hee!!!!

 

Tonight, I’m celebrating Becky’s birthday! We’re going to a little pub out near Batshitcrazytown, and we’ll toast our girl. I’m so grateful and blessed to have her in my life…and will forever be thankful for that. She and I are really always on the same wavelength, and I know that I can call her any time and she’ll be right there. She has welcomed me into her family, and shared them with me, which I cherish. As I told her…if she does tonight correctly…we won’t just be celebrating Jesus’ rising from the dead tomorrow!

Happy Birthday Becky!!! MUAH!

HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY BECKS!!!

 

I got a facial yesterday at my salon. Since the last birthday, I’ve started to….notice…that time marches on. (right across my face) and I’ve started to do the dance of regret for all the sunburns, all the tanning beds, all the thousands of days without washing my face before bed.

My mom never washed her face. She said my dad liked her going to bed with make up on so she never did it. As a young girl, perhaps that reason was fine. As a 40 year old woman, methinks the excuse was really she was tired and dealing with two small kids and a needy husband and didn’t care! HA!. But she had horrible skin problems as a teen, suffered greatly at the hands of a dermatologist, so I have no idea what the reasoning was. Whatever, the habit of daily cleansing and skin care was never one that was learned at home, or passed down from Mom. I just never did it. Ever. Maybe the first few weeks of Janurary, when I’ve made “life changes” for the year. Ha.

Until I turned 40. Holy balls. Maybe it was mental. Maybe it was my rockstar behavior that month. But I almost ran off of the road when I caught sight of myself in my rearview mirror. Oy.

SO. I got myself some products yesterday. Dermologica. I have instructions on how to use them. I’ve used a cleanser for a month or two now, and my hand to God, the age spots and freckles on my face have faded to almost nothing. ME the girl who grew up crying about her freckly spotted face is FINALLY FADING THEM!!!!! Will wonders never cease?

I’m not above some work. I would love a chemical peel and have plans to maybe get one with my sisser when I travel to Arkansas next time. I wouldn’t mind some Botox, but it still kind of geems me out and it doesn’t last and shit hurts when you poke needles in your face. Dude.

I’m about to do a pretty strict cleansing/boosting diet for 8 days. It’s shakes and supplements and high protein/low carbs/no sugar/white stuff etc. I fell off of the wagon the month I was sick and just haven’t gotten back on it. Trish did this before she went to see her fabulous husband who was deployed (NOT deported as I was saying to everyone) and got a weekend in Key West. She had great results. Just nice to have a kick start and get the sluggish out, ya know? I can do anything for 8 days. If I get weak, I’ll just remember the day this week where I wore some tights/legging things that decided to roll down. Thank the good Lord they got caught into a fat roll or I’d have been walking with them around my ankles.

It’s Good Friday. My time of Lent is coming to a close. I’ve got a post working on what I’ve learned and gleaned from these past 40 days…that’ll come later. But meanwhile, I want you to ALL go IMMEDIATLY and get LAMB by CHRISTOPHER MOORE.

Have you read it?

Holy moly. I have laughed till I’ve excreted moisture from both ends of my body. It’s total satire…and I’m going to tell you some parts you think “I CAN’T READ THIS” and you think it’s going to go into the sacrilegious…and it never does. It’s brilliant. I love it. Go. Get a copy and enjoy. You can thank me later.

I found a job opening for the Fall of 2011. Part time teaching at a junior college. English and Hummanities. Daytime preffered. BA required, MA preffered.

I think I will apply.

I mailed my application to grad school today.

I’ve dreamed twice this week about starting classes.

Just thought I’d share.

We’re out of coffee at Brokedown Palace.

Not a great way to start the day. But not the worst way either.

I had a pretty productive night.

Completed my grad school app, it’s ready for the post office.

Worked on my closet, hanging clothes, tossing old things that I dont need.

Watched the Thunder stop Denver.

Read a little.

it was joyous.

But I’d love a cuppa joe.

Lot’s of stuff to talk about but need to get to the office. It’s the last day there this week as they’re closed for Good Friday. I also get a facial today! Huzzuah!!!! Fresh skin! I can’t wait to tell you all about it!

Whatever you do DO NOT WATCH LAST NIGHT’S PARENTHOOD EPISODE while trying to freakin get ready for work.

 

shitthebed.

i’m a mess.

It’s April 19th. Even though I saw the date this morning while rushing around getting ready to go in early to Job 2, it wasn’t until I was in the office and Caro was reading her FB news feed and said something about it that I thought:

It’s April 19th.

Here’s 10 things I immediately thought of.

1. I was asleep in my dorm room when my husband to be (we’d be married in about three weeks) called and said, “are you watching tv.” I was not watching tv. My roomie and I had been up late working on our English papers, running out of ink cartridges for the printer. Trying to dissect poetry. Drinking coffee. It was finals week.

2. We turned on the tv and sat. Stunned. Stumbling around trying to get to class.

3. Someone called in a bomb threat to the World Thought and or PEST (Political Economical Systems and Thories…totally justified in a bomb threat PREVIOUSLY to 4/19)final. That went over about as well as a fart in a car. The campus went on lockdown.

4. My mom called late that night. We had a family friend missing. She was a person from BatShitCrazyTown. She dated my BonusDad’s brother in high school. I waited on her lot’s of times at the little family diner I worked at through high school. many many connections. She was one of the two bodies remaining that had to be gathered after the building was imploded.

5. There was an amazing amount of news. The babies. The mommas. The rescue workers. President Clinton came here. Katie Couric and Tom Brokaw did too. This image…forever burned into my brain, like so many others too painful to forget. . . I never went down there to see it. I was scared to.

6. The memorial is beautiful. I’ve never been through the museum. But every year the Race For The Cure runs right past the gates of time.

7. It took me several trips to NYC before I could go  through the church that holds all of their memorabilia. The first thing I saw upon entering though was this:

8. I remember spending a whole week of shows in Terra Haute, Indiana while on tour with Bridgework Theatre Company. We loved it. Comfort Suites. One load in, a weeks’ worth of shows, one load out. Terre Haute would be the final destination for Timothy McVey. It’s gross to me, now.

9. Our Memorial Marathon has grown to over 19,000 participants and has been called one of the “12 Must Run Marathons” by Runner’s World Magazine. I cheer yearly. On my same corner. And every year I cry. And I salute. And I am inspired and I am made so proud. Here are a few words of others…testamonials on Why Do You Run. Do yourself a favor. Click over and read one or two snippets.

10. Speaking of marathons…my friend Rachel Martin competed in the Boston Marathon and finished in 3:39:33. She’s freakin awesome and amazing and I’m SO PROUD to know her!

How’s about that for ending on a high note?

 

He was. Truly. If you get the chance to catch any of his performance series…puhleeeeeeese go. PLEASE. Do yourself a favor. GO. prepare to laugh till you ache.

Trish and I stood in line for an hour and a half to get our books signed. It was totally worth it.

Here’s a classic.