Strong

I might break down every once in a while, but don't forget that I'm strong.
I'm strong as fuck. That sounds pretentious, and I don't care.
I'm not strong because I want to be - I'm strong because I have to be...
because of the cards I've been dealt. I'm strong because other people
need me to be, because the world needs me to be, and because I need
me to be. I might not be as strong as I think sometimes, but I know I'm stronger
than I think most of the time - because no matter what happens,
I just keep going, just keep singing, just keep writing, just keep dreaming, just keep on being.
What else could I ask of me?

I wrote a poem today.

I wrote a poem today, and it's not very nice. I saw this woman in the park and she just... well, read the poem.

Her smile looks like a lie.
(Her children precede her, running,
grabbing, shaking apart at the seams,
two boys in worn out sneakers,
t-shirts plastered with corporate America,
eight dollar haircuts.
The air around them is jagged and agitated,
all orange and green.)
Her feet drag,
her belly is swollen beneath ill-fitting clothes,
her hair is undone and unwashed,
and her smile,
it looks like defeat.

It's not very happy. I felt almost guilty writing it. I felt like I should follow it up by writing about the couple with their baby girl who looked just so happy to be alive - but I didn't have another poem in me. I haven't written in so long.. and I'm rusty. I've written a couple of poems in the last month, and it's not prolific in any sense of the word... but it feels good to be writing again.

 

Walls

That fourth wall... why can't I let it down? I'd love to just bulldoze the damn thing, stop being cautious for once. Even when I know it's safe - when I know LOGICALLY that I have no reason to hide or distrust, I still keep that wall up. And it gets in my way. It gets in the way of my happiness and I don't fucking like it. It all falls down on the shoulders of whether or not I can trust people.

When I was in France, I had a discussion with some French and American friends about the differences in where Americans "put up their guard" vs. where the French do the same. It was decided that Americans are more like a peach - it's easy to get in with them, to become sort of casually friends, but that center is tough and difficult to crack open. The French on the other hand are more like a walnut. They have a tough exterior, but once you're in - you're in all the way.

I'm pretty typically American. I'm a peach. But instead of a nice normal wooden pit that cracks under enough pressure, mine's made of something more obnoxious - steel perhaps. I don't want to say diamond, because that would give me no hope of ever actually letting anyone in all the way, and I don't want to think like that.

So right now, I'm trying to... heat the steel? This metaphor has gotten completely away from me so I think I'll return to the literal. I am trying so hard to let people in, but my asshole brain keeps telling me not to, telling me I can't trust people, even when that logical part of my brain knows what's going on.

So, I'm trying. That's good, right? And I'm working through it, figuring it all out, figuring out why I'm feeling or pushing in certain ways. I'm trying like mad! That's all you can really ask of me.

Feeling Human

There are so many amazing things in my life right now, I don't even know where to begin. I guess the biggest one is going back to school. It's nothing insane, just a one-year "certificate" in web design, but I'm already in love. I'm taking Flash, Dreamweaver and Web Authoring this term. It's fabulous. I feel useful, at least a little.

The second great thing is Ellie getting bigger. She's not a baby anymore, she's a miniature human. She has thoughts and ideas and she's interesting. She holds conversations and she makes me think. And she's been spending a couple nights a week at her dad's, so I get some alone time.

That alone time is another grand gift in my life right now. I get to have a social life, I get to take classes, and I get to have a sex life again. And I've found a very nice ... dancing partner... who makes me feel beautiful and whole and normal.

I don't know if it's a combination of these things, or if I just love change, or if I have a brain tumor that's tricking me, but I feel HAPPY and NORMAL for the first time in a very long time. I feel like I have a LIFE. I feel like I'm not some sort of freak. I feel ... human. I'm just this girl. I'm not damaged and broken. I have a history, flaws, baggage.. but so does everyone else.

And you know what, I have been working really hard this year. Working to have this life I'm finding. I've been putting myself out there with friends and lovers, with my work and school. I've been trying really hard. I've been going to book club (usually) and the gym, and trying to say yes when I'm scared, and even ASKING other people to hang out with me. That's not something that's easy for me - just texting or emailing friends to see if they want to hang out is hard. But I've been doing it anyway. Getting signed up for school was a series of smaller and smaller hoops to jump through - and I made it through each one.

I deserve to be happy. I worked for it. Did you know you have to work for this shit? That being happy isn't just something that happens to you? Did you know you have to make that happen? Because I didn't. I fully thought I was just damaged or broken or "less than"... but I was just terrified, hiding from the world. I wasn't seeking happiness.

But now I am, and I'm going to make it my bitch! No matter what it takes. I'm done hiding.

If you please...

Dear hormones,

Chill the fuck out.

Sincerely (but not happily),
Me

Normal is Evolving

It is extremely comforting to me to read confessions from people I love and respect like the Bloggess and Wil Wheaton on the topic of depression. Because of them, it's starting to feel like it's okay to admit that I deal with this stuff. I don't have to be ashamed of my feelings, I don't have to hide them, and most importantly, I don't have to pretend I don't have them. It's really comforting to echo Jenny Lawson's words, "depression lies". It makes me feel "normal" - I think "normal" is evolving to include people like me - people who are anxious all the time, who live in constant fear of rejection and ridicule. And just because I know it's unfounded, because I know I shouldn't feel the way I do, it doesn't stop me from feeling thus. I like knowing that I'm not alone. I like knowing that even though I absolutely love my life, love my family, love my friends - it's okay to be sad sometimes. And it's nice to know that that sadness is not imaginary, even if it's not justified.

So, thank you internet, for the comfort you give by showing me I'm not alone.

So Many

Why, ohh why does someone like I
have so many feels?

I am looking forward to... God, I can't even picture it. Sometime soon, I will have a day (an entire fucking day) that I will spend alone, and I will soak up the silence. I will soak up enough silence to last the coming weeks and months. I will soak up so much silence that I will end the day screaming, just to hear noise.

It will be glorious.

I love my people. I love the people who are sucking up my time, devouring it like beasts, making me laugh and cry and feel the feels.

I think I just need to miss them a bit more. Not individually, because they're so spread out, just taking nibbles here and there, I miss them all already - but I just need a few bites of that time to squander. To toss away, frivolously.

One.
One is a recipe for disaster.
A beginning with no end.
(Perhaps a middle.)
Never an end.
One is languid - not for the impatient.
(And I am impatient.)
One is a dangerous drug,
which I crave, but fear.

Legit'

My eyes hurt from crying, but not in a bad way. The kind of crying that I need to release stress and worry, to stop fretting over things I can't control. A catharsis through tears.

And it's almost a full moon. I'm going to blame that for my crazy brain, even though there's no evidence that "lunacy" really exists.

Men really exist. They make me crazy. That's hormones, right? Completely legit'...

Mostly, I'm just feeling in a rut. I need to pop out into an open field and run around a while.

Flesh for Supper

I did not catch this chicken - did not kill it, clean it, nor pluck the feathers from its goospimpled flesh. I did not remove its head and feet. I did not see its blood in the dirt.

I did roast its body, covered in chopped herbs and garlic, slowly in my oven. I ripped its carcass apart, separating out bone, sinew and cartilage - pulling back greasy skin to expose tender white muscle. I collect the flesh to be consumed and dump the bones into a pot to be boiled for stock.

My hands are covered in the animal's fat and flecks of flesh. I feel like a barbarian. I have destroyed this small body, cracked ribs, pulled the bones from their sockets, ripped muscles out to be eaten. I scrub my hands with dish soap, removing the grease and cleaning the bits of meat from beneath my fingernails. I have conquered this avian corpse.

What Exactly...

Everything is so damn confusing. Including my life. I love my life - I really do... But I don't understand it. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing, what I'm doing wrong. All I do know is that I am happy where I live, happy with my sweet daughter, happy with the awesome friends I have. I could use more friends. I could use a little romance - but I'll get there. If I don't give up, I'll get there.

I'm also really anxious to see if I can go back to school next year. It's just a one-year program, but it's a one-year program I really want to do, and feel like I need to do. I should know this month about the financial situation. Fingers crossed.

Now, I need to make some art. Thinking paints - but words might work, too.

I wish...

I wish I could type music using the Roman alphabet.
I wish I could spell the taste of wine.
I wish I could articulate the way the dying light is filtering through the wind-tossed, blue lace curtains and making patterns on the wall by my television.
I wish I could write how that cold wind smells
or how it feels to sit here right now as me.

Today, I Write

I've been trying to write more lately. This aspiration has instead lead to more house cleaning, more cooking, more painting and more web-browsing. But not today. Well, not tonight. Right now I'm making bean soup and doing laundry and tending my plants, and generally avoiding my notebook and keyboard as much as possible. But tonight, once the child is tucked in bed, I will make myself a white wine cocktail in a mason jar, I will blast the new album I downloaded yesterday, and I will write.

I can't sleep...

Sleep has been eluding me lately. I get in bed and I lie there, staring at the shadows cast by Ellie's Tinkerbell night light on the other side of the bed. The child kicks me, snorts in her sleep, wiggles her toes against my thigh. I sigh. I start singing "Who Needs Sleep" by the Bare Naked Ladies... sure, I'm "never gonna get it".

Then, last night, I took some melatonin, avoided alcohol and caffeine, climbed into bed at a reasonable hour, and slept. Slept for ten hours. And it was glorious.

But now it's almost one and I'm sipping a glass of wine and wondering if I'll ever hit the right balance. I'm thankful tomorrow is Saturday.

Five Things That Fill Me With Child-Like Joy at Christmas

1. Spending a day with my daddy and my sister (and now my daughter), in which we cook something delicious. It doesn't matter what as long as it can be something that reminds my dad about his childhood. This year he roasted lamb & vegetables, made potatoes and gravy and stuffing. My sister made her traditional non-traditional smorgasbord of deliciousness, which included brie cheese, fresh seafood, veggies and sauces, toasted breads, smoked salmon, crackers and olives. Ellie and I had already produced an abundance of cookies and cupcakes. We spiked egg-nog and drank some delicious local ale, too. Cooking, snacking, just spending all day at home with those I love the most - that fills me with joy.


2. The Nutcracker Ballet. I used to watch a video of this ballet obsessively when I was my daughter's age. If you've ever seen a three-year-old watch a movie, you know what I mean - as soon as the video is over, you rewind and start it again. Even just hearing a few bars of the amazing Tchaicovsky score makes me stop dead in my tracks and smile. I effing love it!





3. Christmas movies. It's a Wonderful Life, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Holiday Inn and White Christmas, Rudolph, Santa Claus is Coming to Town, The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus, the Mickey Mouse version (and any other version) of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol, A Christmas Story, Miracle on 34th St (either version), Charlie Brown Christmas... almost any of them. They make me feel like a little kid.


4. The David Bowie/ Bing Crosby video. You know what I'm talking about!





5. Watching my daughter open presents. That's a new one, I guess, but hot damn, it fills me with joy. Watching her face light up as she realizes what she's holding in her hands. Watching her smile and be amazed. In fact, let's add "watching my daughter talk about santa" to this one. She believe so heartily and tells amazing stories. I cannot wait to see her face when she walks downstairs to a full stocking and new amazing toys in the morning. She's worth getting up before the sun to watch her open presents. I can live vicariously through her, now that I'm a single mama who doesn't get much in the way of gifts. But I don't usually mind so much.

Just being with my baby, taking some time off of work, indulging in delicacies of the season, getting sappy over Bing Crosby and claymation movies. Christmas is amazing. I tear up just thinking about it sometimes.


Merry Christmas everyone. (And by Christmas, I definitely mean Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Solstice, Festivus, or any other family/personal/religious/secular traditions you have!)

Time to Think Aloud Again

Well, it looks like it's time for me to spend another lunch (half) hour writing something that ends up profound or profoundly stupid - depending on my mood. I don't feel like the most thoughtful nor the most entertaining person right now. But, I also feel like I need an outlet for ... well, for the something that sits in my chest and makes me feel odd and distant this past week.

Let me start with a simple statement: Life is good. I know it to be true. I'm steadily employed, with a place to call home and the most amazing child who ever walked the earth to share it with. I may have a small pool of friends, but the people who swim there are some of the kindest, smartest, most inspiring human beings I could ever ask to know. And, to top it off, I've got this amazing fellow who wants to spend time with me even when I'm fully clothed. (That was obviously a joke - we're always naked.)

But, even though life is spectacularly, grandly, fascinatingly, stupendously great, this holiday is a lot harder on me than I thought it would be. I've always tried to play this stuff off - "ohh yeah, no problem, I don't need anyone!" I mean, obviously, I love my family and I know they love me, but I like to pretend that I'm so strong, so impenetrable that something as mundane as being away from my family on Christmas can't affect me. And that, my friends, is complete and utter bullshit.

I'm sad. Really sad. I'm so sad about not seeing my daddy and my sister this week that I've been breaking out into spontaneous tears at the slightest little nothing. Add on the fact that my daughter's spending most of Christmas day with her dad and his family, and I'm pretty much done pretending it's okay (stick a fork in me.)

But, what's important (and difficult) for me to remember is that this sadness - it comes from love. It comes from loving people and being loved back, and missing those people. I need to remember that to have a heavy heart is to have a full heart. To miss people is to love them. And that's what really matters on Christmas, right? Love. (Even when it's long-distance.)

Weekends with Ellie

I love weekends with my daughter. Every Sunday (or Friday if Leigh and I switch nights), I get to spend the entire day with her, doing whatever we please. So far today, we've cleaned my room, done puzzles, watched Nightmare Before Christmas and emptied the toy box looking for missing puzzle pieces (we found all but one, for the record.) And, while Ellie is peacefully slumbering away upstairs, I've taken the opportunity to pluck my eyebrows and hunt for zucchini bread recipes.

When she wakes from her nap, we'll probably have a snack and then try out the new paint brushes I got yesterday - maybe whip out the construction paper and elmer's glue, too.

And I love these days, the "home-body" quality, the freedom to do whatever we want, the snuggles and kisses, the amazing stories my toddler can weave (listening to her vocabulary evolve is amazing in itself), the delicious meals we make, the way everything happens and nothing really gets done. It's bliss.

Step One

I'm trying to better myself... still. Right now, I've been writing a little bit (shock and awe!), and eating better. I set a very moderate weight-loss goal, and I'm hoping to blow it out of the water. I've been taking a lot better care of myself and my house. I always took good care of my daughter, thank goodness, but I feel like she's getting even better care now. When mommy's happy, so is baby. Not that she's a baby anymore! Goodness, she's growing up - but that is fodder for another post.

So, I don't really know what my point is. I'm living at the peak of something right now, and I will start sliding down one side or another very soon - to the left (arbitrarily chosen, nothing against the left or the west) I see complacency, depression, self-destruction... but, to the right, I see optimism, self-expression, self-love, and joy that I can spread to others. So, here's hoping I can tip to the right and keep this snowball getting bigger. Also, I hope to take in my skirts again before the fall.

And, because it's just cruel to post and not share my amazing daughter - I give you my gorgeous child.


And us together at the 4th of July parade.

Lunchtime Ruminations

Life is such a funny thing. I know people say that a lot, but it's really true - if, by funny you mean just about every adjective known to man. My favorites to apply: Chaotic, complex, hilarious, depressing, delightful, amazing, mundane, topsy-turvy, dark and lovely.

I find myself frequently trying to wade through all of these ideas and emotions at the same time. They seem to make some sort of inedible stew that I have to swim about in, searching for footing. It's difficult to admit, and even harder to live, but the gist of it is the following.

I have no idea what I'm doing.
I have no idea where I'm going.
I have no idea what I want from life.
I have no idea where I will be tomorrow - mentally more than physically, but physically, too.

That all makes me sad, but not too sad. I have to concentrate on the little things to get through each day. My daughter is the most important concern - if she's healthy and happy, that's all that really matters. Secondary concerns hit me as well. Are my dishes done? Are the floors clean? Is the laundry put away? Do I have plans this weekend? When do I get to see my family? Do I have friends to spend time with? (This is a HUGE one.) Am I learning and growing enough this week? Have I lost any weight? (1.5 pounds this week! Go me!)

I just feel like I'm in a constant state of flux. And perhaps that's how it will always be. Does life ever really calm down? I don't necessarily need to find solid ground, but a life preserver would be much appreciated.

Learning

I feel like I'm in an upswing of information-intake right now. I'm running a proactive campaign to better myself.

1. Quit smoking. I feel so much better already, it's not even funny. I have more energy, meaning that my house is cleaner, I'm cooking better meals, and myself and my daughter are both happier. Yay me!

2. Head First: HTML with CSS & XHTMLI'm reading this book to teach myself the ropes. I already know most of the stuff from the first 4 chapters, but not knowing anything but HTML, I think it will help immensely. Plus, it's really fun to this huge geek. And, it will mean better job opportunities in the future.

3. Thinking about thinking about thinking. I've been sort of "self-exploratory" when it comes to my existence, my viewpoints, my way of life. I don't want to do or think anything because it's what I'm supposed to do or think.

I guess that's about it. I just feel sort of alive right now. It's a good feeling.