I’ve been quietly watching this whole Aurora, Colorado dialoge plays out in the world. In the media, on social networking sites, in the salon…it seems that people are all talking about it. And we should be. It was a heinous thing. Beyond comprehension. As the individual stories start to trickle out, as we get to know about the lives of those injured, those killed, and he that did the damage, the underlying theme of the conversation is centered around guns. Guns. Gun control. Gun issues. Guns for purchase legally, and why they shouldn’t be illegal. There are raging words for and raging words against.

As par for the course, anyone who dips their toes into the pool “gun control” is deemed a crazy fucking liberal tree hugger socialist nazi who is trying to take away my God given ‘Merican rights. Just look at the backlash Jason Alexander got on Twitter.  Granted, in the new world of instant publishing that we live in, the aftermath of such a gross thing will illicit knee jerk reactions. But it’s still happening. To his credit, Mr. Alexander is retweeting all of the dissenting tweets as well as the supportive ones. There are more up just this morning.

Now, let’s just kind of look at this from a different angle. Change the words a bit.

I think it’s fine to own your own gun. Get trained. Don’t be batshitcrazy. Know that if the moment comes when you point a gun at another person, you can follow through. Make sure it won’t be removed from your hand and used against you. Make sure you KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING. It’s a mental and physical task and you need to make damned sure you’re up to both. Because that slight error in judgement has the potential to change the course of your life and possibly mine, forever.

Do we need military grade automatic weapons ala Scarface available to purchase? Don’t those bullets do the same damage as a handgun or shotgun? Dead is dead, right? When someone is collecting 6000 rounds of ammunition, how come there’s not a red flag? Are there any red flags in this case of James Holms? I think there were, and I think those flags were completely overlooked. The conversation has been centered on the guns, and the ammo and the bombs and supplies he used to booby trap the apartment.

The conversation, in my opinion, needs to change. We need to be focusing on the state of mental illness in our country. They way we look at it, deal with it, fund it, treat it. Look people, this isn’t just a case of “he watched a violent series of movies and decided to kill people.” That’s easy. And irresponsible. For anyone to blame a game or a movie or a song…pull your heads out please and get yourself a big gulp of oxygen to your brain. I think Tracey Letts, playwright and screenwriter, said it best:

“I’m clearly on the side of the argument that say we simply reflect [violence in society],” Letts, a Pulitzer Prize winner for August: Osage County, said. “That crazy motherf—– [in Colorado] had an AR-47 and 6000 rounds of ammunition. Anybody who would point the finger at us and our little fried chicken movie, as opposed to the ability to buy 6000 rounds of ammunition, is out of their goddamn mind.”

When told that conservative radio host Rush Limbaugh had blamed violent Batman movies for the massacre, Letts added, “There you go — consider the source.”

 

Mental illness is prevalent in our society. Did you know that?  “An estimated 26.2 percent of Americans ages 18 and older — about one in four adults — suffer from a diagnosable mental disorder in a given year” Did you know THAT?

We have got to figure out a way to change the words. Change the conversation. This kid, yeah he could be faking the whole thing. I could really be sleeping with George Clooney every Friday night. There are a lot of “could be’s” in the world. It’s your brain and you get to decide what you believe. But I believe that this kid fell through a big fucking crack in our system and as time goes on, more will be revealed.  It’s not sane, educated, trained gun owners who are Falling Down.  It’s the batshitcrazy people who are going through our “proper legal channels” and procuring off the wall amounts of ammunition and big giant guns.

This whole gun debate… look. I don’t want to take away your guns.  I may even want to own one myself. I don’t want to take away the right to bear arms. I want though, some dialogue, serious and real dialogue on why certain arms are NEEDED outside of our military? Dead is dead, right? I want it to be more difficult for the crazy people to get them. I want it to be more difficult for anything like this to happen again. What’s the phrase being bandied about every three seconds on Facebook? “Guns don’t kill people. People kill people.”

Well. Fine.

What can we do about that?

I don’t think anyone will ever calm down the frothy rhetoric enough to look at it. The same phrases spewing back from both sides will continue to spew.

I do think it’s time to change the phrases.

I think it’s time to look at the other layer of this story and ask ourselves, and the people that we vote into office,  what we can do about it.

I think it’s time to change the words.

In the meantime,

May God bless you, Aurora Colorado. May you feel the peace and grace of a nation who mourns with you, who questions for you, and seeks answers for all of us.

I spent about 10 hours yesterday, give or take a whining session, gathering together paperwork to submit my 2011 taxes. This has been that THING, hanging over my head all year and I’ve been head in sand about it because I know that I owe tax payments. It’s been that albatross around my neck, nagging heavily, quietly stealing into every thought, every moment. I have a plan, it just was a matter of getting everything together and submitting it. Oh, and paying for THAT service to the tune of several hundred dollars.

I have misplaced a 1099 form, so I have to locate a copy of that,  and have to fill out one last spreadsheet, then I can take it to my tax person.

It must be finished soon, because my financial aid is dependent on submitting my 2011 tax info.

Everything is connected.

I do feel better having knocked it out. With some whining on the internet and a rousing amount of support in return, I did get it finished. I’ve got everything organized so I’m going to go ahead and get 2012 up to date as well. (right? who am I???)

Homework is knocking on my door as well. I need to get caught up. I haven’t posted since I finished my paper last week. I need to start researching for the final paper as well.

But alleviating this one major thing on my back has opened room to deal with other things:

Go visit Trey at the hospital. My friend had emergency surgery for septis in his arm yesterday. It’s pretty bad, and word is, if he didn’t get to the hospital when he did, he could have died. Trey and I have hanging out nights on a regular, somewhat regular,  whenever we can. Throw some good thoughts his way, would ya?

getting my bedroom window fixed. (yeah. I know. It’s still wrapped in plastic and tape.)

paying bills.

contacting my advisors to set up meetings concerning GRE/Ph.D/Master’s Thesis.

finalizing insurance claim for the new roof.

reorganize the office.

get some butcher paper on the wall and begin my dream page.

find butcher paper…which means probably going to a craft store. . . which means I can get stuff to fix my puppets eye.

ask around about finding a psychiatrist/therapist. I’m considering therapy. I have no insurance. I have no idea how to go about finding someone that is credible and affordable. it’s such a tricky subject…I almost didn’t list it here…fear, anxiety, whatever. I’m putting it out there. How do you find someone?

I’m going to have some more coffee, wish that I lived close enough to go to my mom’s for breakfast, and get started hammering this out.

Finishing on a few good notes:

I bought another fan as an impulse buy at the grocery store this week. I’ve kept both going during the day, and haven’t had to run the a/c nearly as hard as usual. I’m happy for that.

My squash keeps producing. I really want to fry up a mess of it with some okra. Really.

I’m so excited for the Olympics to begin! I work weddings both Friday and Saturday night, so will have to watch the dvr’d version, but I don’t care.

GO TEAM USA!!!

In order for you to understand my story, you’ll need to read about how it all started. I could tell you, in my words and phrases, but it’s already been captured with the perfect words, the perfect phrases. So, go here: Trish’s Blog, and read about how it all came to pass.

I’ll wait.

What do you think? Crazy, huh? Traveling across the state lines, in a car with people I’ve never traveled with before (save Trish. We travel well together.) With people that I’ve never spent more than an evening or an afternoon with, actually, certainly not as a group. Forging our way out from under the Heat Dome, to meet another group of people we had never met.

Yet, we knew them. I knew them. We knew each other, deeply and profoundly. In my heart, I knew one in particular. We’ve texted each other and emailed singularly and in group mailings for a year now. I knew that she was a sister of my soul. The other girls, I was intrigued and excited to meet. I didn’t know as much about them, but I knew enough to know I wanted more! Oh how I would come to love them, all of them.

As we drove into New Mexico, we saw the temperature begin to drop. We felt the altitude change. There was an energy in the car, buzzing. Each of us has our own experience, so I won’t speak for any other than mine. I wasn’t scared, or nervous really. Mostly excited. It never occurred to me that I wouldn’t like anyone, or that they wouldn’t like me. I felt it in my bones that we were approaching something magical. There was about to be a merging of some really amazing personalities, and whether it was like Macy’s NYC Fourth of July Extravaganza…or San Diego’s Flop, it was going to be bright and memorable.

It was.

That and so much more.

These women that we had never seen face to face, never smelled or touched or hugged, were just as they should be. Generous. Hysterical. Caustic. Shy. Gentle. Caring. Bawdy. Open. Loving. Beautiful.

For me, it was the final piece of the puzzle.

I’ve been waiting for you. My whole life, I’ve been waiting. All is as it should be.

I’ve never been one to hold in my feelings. Except the ragey parts of me that stay tucked away, I learned a long time ago that I could either swallow and bury the emotion, or release it and make room for more. It is just the way I am made, and I’ve accepted it. It’s probably unnerving to strangers, to see me burst into tears, then laughter, then just try to stop the flow leaking from my face. I have no idea why no one has attempted to admit me into the nervous hospital. Maybe they can sense that it’s ok. All is as it should be.

There was many a tear leaking from my eyes last week.

Taking it all in, the grace of it all, and the route we took to get there. What if? What if we had never which meant we would have never, which would have never let us know, which would have never lead us here…

All is as it should be.

I’ve been asked, “what did you DO?”

Well, some of us shopped. Some of us rafted the Rio Grande. Some played backgammon. I did bang some hair. Some of us cooked…seriously it was like a scene from “Like Water For Chocolate”…you could taste the love in each bite.

Mostly, though, we talked. We talked and talked and talked and talked.

From heart break, to family, to love lost, to favorite recipes and personal triumphs, to favorite YouTube videos and dancing goats…we covered it. I came away knowing more about each of us than I did before the trip. Making connections that will forever bind us together.

And it was all too short.

Anyone that knows me, knows I hate goodbyes. From the time I was just a little girl, I would cry…CRY huge wailing tears when I would leave. Anyone. I’m crying now typing this. I remember being about 5 or 6 and asking my dad to just…just BUILD us a house big enough for everyone I love, and we’ll never have to say goodbye again. So when the time came, in the afternoon in the middle of Taos, to go our separate ways, I tried to hold it together. And I’m pretty proud of myself. There was no wailing. No uh-huh-huh-ing trying to get my breath. It was Au Revoir-o-till-next-time-o-chick-a-lingas! And we were off.

In the days past, readjusting to life under the Heat Dome, processing the thing we just experienced, I’ve come to understand two things.

One: I know now, why I wasn’t really nervous. I’ve done this before. I’ve traveled miles and miles to live with strangers. That’s how I met Kizz. Only in those experiences, we hadn’t been each others sounding board for a year previous. It was a Yahtzee, buckle up, herewego, kind of thing. Not always pleasant, but sometimes magical. So, this experience was in my wheelhouse already.

Two: For a moment there, my wish was realized. I was in a house, full of people that I loved and that loved me back. There was beauty all around us, and even in the smallest detail, there was grace. What a lucky, lucky girl I am to have the opportunity to fully experience it, to realize it and to know that,

all is as it should be.

**All photos taken by, and belong to Trisha Boonshay, Documentarian Extraordinaire.

Taos is beyond words. Amazing…awe inspiring.

Yesterday consisted of the whole group getting here, the house getting stocked with provisions and libations. I did some corrective color which took awhile, therefore we were really late getting in to town for food and drink…hindsight we just should have stayed here. The place was crowded, the band was loud, the food was fine but we ate had a drink and came right back to our fabulous adobe hut and put on soft clothes or bathing suits and got into the hot tub under the stars.

Oh the stars…they are so loverly.

Trish and I are up. After only five hours of sleep…wide awake.

All I can hear in my head is Jack’s voice, “Come one let’s go we’re wasting daylight!”

I’m going to get a cup of coffee and go stare at the mountains and breathe.

And tell Jack’s voice to shut the hell up.

 

I slept last night. Not entirely without some ick, but I got up and rubbed some icy/hot on my back and went right back to sleep. When the alarm went off, Kikimama, Sam and I were one jigsaw puzzle of ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ’s. That hasn’t happened in weeks.

Today, I will go to work and bang some hair on some of my favorite people, leave in the mid afternoon, run some errands, and come home to finish the packing and house details. At about 5:45 I will climb in the car and head west on a fabulous adventure, ending in Taos where I will meet friends from other states and we shall laugh and cry and see in person this incredible support that we have felt over the airwaves over the years.

I am thankful for so many things this morning. This coffee is damned good. The sleep was a beautiful thing. My back is lessening in stress due to my chiro who is working his magic on me daily. I’m thankful for this trip with these fabulous people. We all are bringing something to the circle…stresses of life, moves, jobs, school, bills, children, broken bits of everything…but this week we’re going to throw it all away. We will escape with each other into a place of magic and grapefruit margaritas and green chile and extreme levels of ridiculousness.

I’m so ready for that.

I’m also thankful from the bottom of my heart for Laura, who will be house sitting while I’m away. Caring for the livestock, fresh water, and litter box and garden and flowers and the general well being of Brokedown Palace isn’t a glam job. There is such a sense of relief for me to know that someone will be here.

I’m mentally checking off my list, packing my homework and books, getting the sheets changed on the beds, and I am giddy.

Those are the exact feelings one is supposed to feel on Friday the 13th, right?

 

I woke up at about 5am this morning and decided to just get up. My back was hurting, the light on my newly re-wired/hooked up bedroom tv has a light that is constantly on and that had bothered me all night long and I was just uncomfortable. My mind was just insane.

So, as I’ve been getting into the habit, instead of forcing rest, I just get up. I put a towel over the tv. I found some muscle rub and thought to myself “holy hell. you’re using old people creme on your back” and did some stretching. I laid back down for just a bit, and while I had soothed the lighting situation, and the creme turned my back pain into a smelly menthol bliss, my brain was still doing it’s Thunderdome impersonation.

I started checking off the list.

What’s wrong?

I’ve got to go to the bank this morning and get my insurance check dealt with.

I’ve got to get to the campus before 5 and pay my tuition and return library books.

I’ve still got some laundry to finish and the kitchen floor to clean and new sheets on my bed and another two homework assignments to post before I leave on Friday.

Laura is coming by tonight to get the lay of the land before she house-sits for me. Make list of quirky things about the house so her stay is easy.

Pay JT for roof before I leave. (that can happen when we pick up Mindi on Friday night.)

Find someone/find time myself/to mow yard. (this is happening as I type! YAY!)

Now, none of these things are life threatening. Several are, in fact, pieces of good news, projects being completed, i.e. the new roof! Summer school paid for! Two major things that I don’t have to worry about anymore. The other things, will be finished before tomorrow night. Everything will be fine. Taking the time to think things through, piece by piece, to untangle the web of voices, made things easier. I’m still making forward motion, and that’s a win in my book.

One car length a head, just a mile or two faster.

Forward motion.

My roof is being repaired/replaced as I type.

It sounds as if the wrath of God is upon us, everytime a load of shingles drops. Kikimama may well have peed herself a few times. I’m excited that it’s taking place. I’ve got a call in to another contractor to line up the rest of the work.

Laundry is going, dishes are washing. I’m finished with my morning internet/coffee/breakfasting so it’s time to attack The List. Must take a few things to the cleaners and I get fresh hair this afternoon and must carve some time to write and post homework assignments.

Also…if you’re not watching The Newsroom, you’re missing some perfectly perfect Sorkineese.

Do you ever get that clogged up feeling? (no. ew. not THAT clogged up feeling…but yeah, that too)

When there are so many things you’ve got to do, so many things that must be taken care of, and you just feel like drowning?

Clogged.

My car is filthy. My window is still covered in plastic. I have yet to procure a contractor to fix my house. My taxes are still “on extension.” My homework is waiting, and piling up from the holiday/family weekend. My house is dirty.

Lord. Too much. Sometimes it just feels like too much.

Too much started manifesting itself in my lower back about two weeks ago. It came to fruition in the form of an evil spirit living in my body, stealing my sleep, cramping my muscles, clouding my brain.

Sister time helped this weekend. Because I am always one hundred percent authentic and honest with her. She loves me anyway, right? So just getting some time with her was therapy. She looks amazing. Her hard work has paid off and she is just gorgeous, and while shopping with her is enough to force my eating disorder to rear it’s ugly head, I would never take that away. She’s awesome. And inspiring for me to do better, be better, get shit marked off that godforsaken list. As usual, I wish we lived closer. We are the perfect combination.

I went and got a massage this afternoon after they all went back to Arkansas. After that, I drove directly to my chiropractor’s office.

I then went to the store and bought a watermelon, enough salad stuff for the week, and catfood to last through my trip.

I feel like a whole new person.

Cleared.

It seems that once that happened, things started falling into place. I got the quote for my roof, and it’s perfect. Now I can call and line up the rest of the work for my house. Tonight I’m going to post homework and get caught up. Tomorrow is more getting ready for my trip and getting my hair done.

This time next week I’ll have been white water rafting on the Rio Grande.

Life is good…really it is.

Do you ever get the let down after a holiday? I do. Specifically July 5th is my day. I always feel as if I didn’t do it well enough.

Growing up, it was the best holiday. There was rarely any fighting between the parents, we had cookouts and homemade ice cream and firecrackers and at the end of the night we would wind up on a tailgate, or in someone’s lap as we gazed up into the summer night and oooh’d and aaaaah’d at the beautiful fireworks display.

I love fireworks. I love the lights. I love all of it.

Each year I get close…I manage to find some friends and a hot dog. I usually get some sunshine and vitamin D on my skin by floating on some water of some sorts. It seems though, each year, this favorite of my holidays has turned from a really fun, soul filling event, into a reminder of…a time and family gone by. It leaves me sad more than full of happy.

It’s been this way for years. There for awhile it was fun. We were floating the river. Or I had my own family to feed and nurture. Or we were gathering together on the Frontier. But things change.

I don’t know. I think it’s a normal phenomonon. The post holiday let down. I don’t know how common it is to be on July 5th. Have you ever felt it? Do you know what I’m talking about?

The best thing to do is gear back up to go to the salon and bang some hair, to get more reading and writing finished and posted online for my class. I’m excited to see my family this weekend, they arrive Friday. Then the next weekend is Taos. July is gearing up with lots of family and friends, just as summertime should be.

So, I’ll just take this tiny moment of weird loneliness. I’ll take it and feel it and then bless it and let it go.

Who has time to dwell?

July.

Mortgage and most of the bills are paid.

We, Kikimama, Stormy, Sammy and I, are collectively broke ass for awhile.

There’s food in the pantry. Gas in the car. There’s crunchy and moist food for the livestock and toilet paper in the bathroom. Taos money is saved and tucked away as is money for San Diego trip. There are bartending shifts on the calendar for after Taos.

But folks…it’s some slim pickins around Brokedown Palace until August when student loans come through.

School officially begins today. I’ve got to sit down, turn off everything and start reading.

I need to get my taxes together and turned in. Yeah. I know. I filed an extension and planned to do it in June when my life…what? What did I think my life was going to do in June? But yeah. I’ve got to do that, figure out what I owe, start paying on that when the student loans arrive. It’s a Peter/Paul situation over here in that area. I’ve got to make a time to go to campus and talk about money. I have no idea how I’m going to pay for this summer’s classes. I’m going to have to just squeeze it with bits paid here and there until my money for the fall comes along…sigh. Everything is riding on that it seems.

And it’s been making me crazy for weeks. Months.

I’m also trying to get some people to freakin call me back in regards to upkeep and repairs on my house. I got some numbers from Darci’s guy…to replace the entire window, the whole thing mind you, one window was $528.00–that seems insane to me.

I’ve got to get another guy out here to look at it. More than likely I’m going to have to go back to the insurance company and say, I’ve had people out to look, there’s more damage than you gave me money for, bla bla bla.

Also, I fired my lawn guy this past week. Did I tell you that already? He weedeated my flowerbeds. The plants that I was growing from seed…he killed them. Not the REAL WEEDS mind you, just the ones I had planted. He’s an idiot. So I have to find someone else now, which won’t be hard but…one more thing.

I can’t tell you how frustrating it is. But maybe you know. Because I’ve been whining about it for awhile now.

Cindy is in NYC this week. I’m so excited for her, and partly jealous as well. I miss the city. I miss Kizz and Talaura. I know this trip holds a lot for her. It was a trip that she and Chris had been planning…4th of July, Lady Liberty…I’m so glad she went. I’m so glad she’s there. I’m so glad that she knows Kizz and has double the love to wrap herself in.

July. July Second to be exact.

Princess Diana would have been 51 years old yesterday.