see no future, pay no rent

I'm not kidding when I talk about religious experiences in my car. I have them a lot. Once I was listening to Africa by Toto. I don't understand, and honestly, I will never try - but one rainy day I was on my home from Huntington, listening to the radio. I ended up singing about as loudly as a human can and crying my eyes out. It remains enigmatic.

I write - or not really WRITE, but mostly come up with most of my ideas behind the wheel. I do. I just can't stop it. I jot down crazy and messy words that will trigger a memory or a thought I serenely had alone on 600 N. Or I'll text a short note in my phone on I-69 that punches me with poignant emotion...for example:

"Harvest-dust smells sweet, settling in my lungs under a sky I won't ruin with words" or

"Sometimes the tree bark in my blood gives me a rest. And I think the earth is turning like it should."

And let's face the reality, Toto and writing blows any other kind of religion I've tried out of the water.

So, lets not forget about what happened yesterday. The clouds were sickeningly insane. I can't begin to comprehend the overwhelming sense of warmth coursing through my blood. I was driving into the best mixture of moisture, light, dark and earth science. I needed to pull over and dip my hands in mud near a cemetery. Or offer some sort of gift to the universe that might make it think about gracing me with these skies everyday. Or lay flat in the fields near homes nestled comfortably in a county kind of forgotten.

I didn't do these things. Instead, I took pictures.

And I thought, I'll blog about this. I, also, thought that my car just might be the only real sanctuary for a gal like me.

The party's done, the cake's all gone

It happens no matter where you are. You pick favorites. Horse races - favorites. Clothes - favorites. Kids - favorites. Books - favorites. Foods - favorites. Library patrons - favorites. It just, naturally, happens. You connect with something of a likeness. You talk and laugh and talk and laugh and think, "Yep, this is it." I have favorite library patrons/customers - I do. I won't pretend I don't and say things like, "Nope, they all are special" or some shit like that. I will just flat out tell you, I have favorites. It's good to have people who resonate with your soul. I won't apologize for it. Some babies stand out among the mass. Some grown-ups stand out.

If you haven't gathered already, I'm talking about specific library patrons. There's a baby with floppy hair and two, yes, TWO teeth on the same side of his mouth that make him look like a little monster. He knows me. He knows me by my voice because of storytime, he knows me by my smile. He knows me because I love him. This baby has a dad. This dad likes me. We click. We laugh and talk and shoot the shit and laugh again about his family from Louisville and the other babies in storytime. We get each other. He's dapper, you know? Black pea coat, salt 'n' pepper hair, thin framed glasses and a good singing voice - but that's not why I like him. I like because he's nice to his baby and to me and to other parents and because we just have something internal that settles easily and comfortably with one another. We like each other.

Guess what, guys. He just found out he has a brain tumor.

And that's the kind of nonsensical world we live in. Dads get brain tumors. Dads die in fires. Sometimes the dads who deserve to live and be healthy don't and arent'. The Dads who are despicable, you know, the abusers who suck at life, live and are healthy.

This is a somber day, indeed.

god damn it.

kiss me and kiss me until i'm dead

"To the park, Jeeves, it's been a good day."

My nena says that, "to the park, Jeezes" and usually it doesn't make much sense. I think it's from some movie, but I'm unclear on that, too. So, be prepared for that sometimes, you know? The unexpected saying that never really does make much sense even in context. Life is like that sometimes, funny and unexpected.

I had lunch with a library friend who somehow likes me. He's just way cooler than me and it sounds totally middle school to put it in such ridiculous terms, but it's so true. And it was nice. We laughed and talked about people going under for surgery and not waking up (we didn't laugh about that per se) and trips to the southwest and how we'll never truly *love* the new Jimmy John's location and a tad bit of religion and what that does to people on Facebook and so on and so forth. It was nice. I mean, beyond nice. It's good to find likeness in people. I think so, anyway.

When we got back to work, these cute little black flats with so much bling on the toe were just sitting politely on my desk. I promptly tried them on and got super nervous that they weren't for me. But don't worry. They were! Don't even get me started on how well the fit. And just how much I like them! Jesus, this is boring, I know - but funny, too, in an unexpected way. And subtle things, too. Free shoes that actually fit from an *almost* complete stranger who thinks they'd "look cute" on me is a big red balloon of funny, but the small things, too, can actually paralyze me. Like, a tiny gap toothed boy telling me I did a good job at his storytime. Like, 52 kids jumping and laughing and doing silly dances (wait, that's a BIG thing). Like, having a best friend who calls just to tell me she loves me. I mean, life is like that. Life is good sometimes especially when you don't expect it.

Bored yet? That's okay, be bored. Be a carbon based vessel filled up with boredom, but do it with a happy heart. Listen to The Sunscreen song, I mean, really listen to it. Watch something or read something or think of something that makes you happy. Let life say, "to the park, Jeeves" and think about my beautiful Nena who loves wine so much and makes funny jokes that don't make sense. Think about loving so hard. Life is crazy nuts.

If that's movin up then i'm movin out

Let's talk about healing. But first, let's talk about our bodies. More specifically, my body. It's really damaged. I've done a terrible job at maintaining my beautiful carbon instrument. Seriously. I have. My back is a knotted mess of anxiety and stress. I don't know how to combat this. I'm too uptight, wound-up and high strung. Meditation? I don't know. Give me suggestions. I need help.**

I got a deep tissue massage today and a few times I nearly puked all my basil and orange infused water up. The pain, sometimes, was unbearable. How do I heal from this travesty? What have I done to bring this on?

I need to heal.






**Note: If you think about giving me stupid suggestions, which includes things that are stupid, keep them to yourself. Don't, I repeat, DON'T tell me to pray or to chill out or dumb things like that, k? Cool.

The race is long, and in the end, only with yourself

I did the dishes today. I've been feeling droopy and like dragging my knuckles through the dirt. I don't know, I'm tired and all broken out in a burny, itchy hive due to this antibiotic that the surgeon prescribed to me after I got loads of infection in my jaw after the dry socket after the wisdom tooth was removed. *phew* A little reminiscent of There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly, just not near as funny. Anyway, so dragging the knuckles lots. But earlier, I decided that it was time to do something. I chose the dishes.

I'm glad I did. It was refreshing. All the while, my husband hung out with me in the kitchen. I'm lucky. I am. I've sang about it here before. I bet it's too sappy to keep saying it, but he's the perfect counter to my crazy. He's good and easy going and stable - and we pass the baton. It's usually me who feels a tinge of gray, but when he does, I go all stable and calm. It's a good working thing. We're homeostasis, mostly. The days we aren't, it's like the universe is tilted out of whack and volcanoes are accidentally fuming and rivers are running backward.

So, while I was washing dishes and he was hanging with me, he gets up and says, "I need a q-tip". He walks, grabs one, does his ear thing and comes back to me, near the sink. That's how life is around here. And it's good.

...and your mommy sunddenly becomes your daddy

I have a good life - three boys who love me (one human, two cats), a sweet little downtown apartment with plenty of natural light, food in my mouth and booze in my belly, hot water and warm socks on this ridiculous snow day. I have a job that utilizes my (excellent) people skills and uncanny knack to identify with children. I have literacy on my side, long blond hair and some nasty cool new christmas clothes. I have the internet, so I can know many things in very few seconds, update my blogs and laugh at yours (if and only if they are about things I like to laugh at). Health hangs out with me on a consistent basis. So do my friends.

Sometimes I get sappy, I have to get down on paper (or fake cyber paper, as the case may be) how lucky I am and, equally good, how lucky I feel.

Probably, if you are reading this, I love you. And thanks for being the person you are.

e

brother and sister together will make it through

Today was great. Everything I did, I did skipping. And smiling. It's really drastic, you know, feeling good after feeling SO BADLY for days and days. I'm going to lay it all out on the line and say that today was the best day in at least 8 days. My life will always revolve around the past 6 days as Pre-Wisdom Teeth and Post-Wisdom Teeth. "Oh, remember when we went to Flashbacks and danced so hard and that weird guy tried to put his hand down your pants?!" And I'll say, "For sure! that was PRE-WISDOM TEETH." And we'll laugh. (Honest. That's how it will go.)

But seriously, did you hear what I said? I went to Flashbacks (!!), danced my ass off, fell down, and was sexually, in a very dancey manner, accosted by some tall ginger haired boy. I was all, "aww, NO HE DEEDN'T" but he did. He was dancing up on me. Nuts. Luckily, my theological and bearded friend Bryce was there to violently dance him away!

Other than Handsy McGee, dancing, and dancing so hard, was amazing! The first 3 hours of the New Year I was moving my feet with hundreds of strangers. And it wasn't weird until... well, it got weird.

We're going again. and soon.

I know I've said this, but maybe I'll actually mean it this time:
I'm going to blog more. I will. I will care for this blog like it's existence depends on me, because, well, .. you know.