Honesty & Some Other Stuff

To say that yesterday was a day of enlightenment would be an understatement. I learned more about myself after a few laughs with two friends than I have in the whole amount of my time on this planet. I learned that I almost allowed myself to be sucked back in by the fear. It almost got me but it didn't. So if you just followed me recently, and suddenly you start seeing some new posts and go WTF? Who is this? Then it's because I am going to attempt to actually do what it is I keep saying I am going to do. Although I haven't actually done it yet.

Confused, much? Me too.

I am going to actually publish the posts that are sitting in my drafts folder. The ones I write but don't publish because of fear. They are the real things I want to talk about but don't because I don't know what people would say. I have one almost finished so if after meeting me. The real me. You decide to unfollow me. That is ok because I get it. I cheated you. I lied to you. I pretended to be something that I wasn't.

For those who have been here just for me I am gonna get to know you. To really know you. I have never done that before so I might be awkward and not know whether to lean right or left so please be patient with me while I figure this all out.

To those of you who reached out to me and I didn't hear you because I had my blinders on and was too busy paying attention to myself. I am sorry. I am sorry for not really hearing what you were saying. I am sorry that I almost missed having you as a friend, but so very glad that I didn't.

So now I am gonna just be me. In all my dorkiness and cheesiness.Because I really am those things and I like it that I am.

 I probably won't have as many followers as I would have if I had just kept saying the things that I know people would want to hear. But I learned yesterday that the number 3 is the most amazing number in the world and I am a part of that.

I learned that the 2 stooges who actually visit my blog and read what I write. Every single word of it. They are much more important to me than you because seriously? A minivan? That is so not me. I am more of an Evo.

I learned how freeing it is to just be. I have been in survival mode for most of my life. In survival mode you do things you wouldn't do when you "live". Don't believe me? You'd be the first to eat my ass if we had been on that mountain. Don't lie. You know you would have.

That is how I live every day. Eating frozen ass. I think I would like to try something different from the menu. Chocolate sounds good. Yes, I think I will start with chocolate.

I Raise My Glass to - Sapphire Dragonflies

So raise your glass if you are wrong, in all the right ways, all my underdogs, we will never be never be anything but loud and nitty gritty dirty little freaks won't you come on and come on and raise your glass, just come on & come on & raise your glass
-Pink

Today I read a post called Keeping It Real and at first I was going to just write a single blog post about the person who posted it. Then I thought no that isn't enough. Then I thought I would start a "blog of the week", but there are so many already cheesy awards and things so that was out, but I had to do something.

So in honor of her post I want to also "keep it real" because sometimes it's something I have a difficult time doing.It's much easier to be numb than it is to feel. So since she is the one who mentioned the song "Conversations with My 13 Year Old Self" which also led me to finding "Raise Your Glass", that is why I decided instead of a "blog of the week", I would  "Raise My Glass" to whoever has inspired me that week and since her post led to the creation of this I raise my first glass to

Sapphire Dragonflies

If you don't know her, then you are definitely missing something in your life. Secondly I would like to also honor another friend and while only she might understand the importance of this or at least I hope she understands the importance of what this means to me. For my wonderful friend

Deus Ex Machina

I give the "My Sam"

"I cannot carry your burden, Mr. Frodo, but I can carry you"

Vanimle sila tiriCormlle naa tanya tel'raa

I have so many people I want to raise my glass to. I will to each and everyone who has brightened up my world and given a helping hand to a frightened little so she could go play with dragonflies. For the first time in my life I feel I have friends. Thank you to all of you.

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

This is "my spin" on the writing prompt from TRDC. The prompt was to take something ugly and find the beauty in it. I decided to choose something that is more "socially ugly" than "physically ugly", and I only exceeded the word limit by 15 25 words this time which is an improvement over last time. Oh, and if you can, when you're reading this, imagine it being read by someone with a strong southern accent. It's hard to write  a southern draw.Those aren't spelling mistakes just in case it wasn't obvious.

Growing up living in my grandparents house, we didn't have much. There was no indoor plumbing. Instead you just picked an unused spot outback in the weeds. If you had to go at night, there was an old tin can at the end of the front porch. It was too dangerous at night to use the weeds. A snake might crawl up your pant’s legs and try to take a bite outta ya. At least that is what Pa use to say.

 I wasn’t allowed to use the weeds at night.

Our water came from a well outback. In the winter it would have to be heated on the stove. Then Ma would quickly fill the bathroom sink so I could take a bath.

It was fun when Ma helped me wash my hair.

We didn’t have a normal washing machine. Instead we had one of those old timey ringer washing machines. My arm got caught in that thing more times than I can remember trying to get the sheets through the ringer. We also didn’t have a dryer so clothes had to be hung out on the line.

 Sheets take a long time to dry in the winter.

You also had to be careful where you walked. Some of the floor boards weren’t too sturdy and you could fall through. Like the time my uncle forgot and stepped on the wrong one and fell through the attic. I never laughed so hard in all of my life. Me standing at the bottom of the stairs looking up at his legs dangling through the ceiling. Him yelling at me to get Pa. Me doubled over, tears streaming down my red face, trying my best to suck air back into my lungs. I thought I was gonna suffocate right there.  Finally, air seeping into my lungs just as Pa came to see what all the ruckus was about.

Times were tough. Dinner sometimes was just cornbread and buttermilk. I liked those nights the best. Filling my glass up with ice cold buttermilk. Then crumbling the freshly baked cornbread into it. After each spoonful, taking a bite out of a crisp green onion that I had just picked from the garden. Much better than the nights when we had poan bread and salmon patties. 

I didn’t like poan bread. I tolerated the salmon patties.

Saturdays were the best. Pa and I would go to visit Pa’s sister, Aunt Giddie. Her house smelt like dog piss, but she made the best turnip greens and macaroni salad I had ever eaten in my whole life. As soon as she would hear our car pull in the driveway, she would start fixing my plate. By the time I walked in the door, she would be saying, “There’s a plate on the table fer yee. Help yurself. The rest is on the stove”.

 Aunt Giddie didn’t get any visitors except on Saturdays when Pa and I went there. I didn’t really like Aunt Giddie, but if I went there, then she would always let me take an extra piece of chocolate pie home with me for later. Along with a big bowl of macaroni salad.

 I loved macaroni salad.

Some people called us poor. Others called us “white trash”. I didn’t mind because on Sundays I got to go exploring in the woods or fishing with Ma, and when we would get back, there was Aunt Giddie’s extra piece of chocolate pie waiting on me, and sometimes Ma would even make her homemade banana pudding.

Homemade banana pudding is my favorite. It's the only dish Ma knew how to make.

Is it Strange?Should I be concerned?

..that whenever I start setting up for dinner the cat goes and sits in "his spot"to the left of my husband and waits his turn to be "served"?

..or that if you open a bag of potato chips and he is within a 10 mile radius he will hear you and before you can eat the first chip he will appear out of nowhere and then rip the bag out of your hands and eat them all?

..or that if after ripping the bag of chips out of your hand he discovers they are "plain" instead of his favorite "hot n spicy" flavor he will leave the bag laying there spilled all over the floor and not eat any of them?

..or that when I am asleep he sits on my pillow beside my head waiting for me to wake up careful not to disturb me but occasionally just to check if I have woke up yet or not he will put his face less than 1/2 in from my face and STARE at me

..or that after he has been staring at me for about 5 mins like this I finally open my eyes to make him go away because he is freaking me out just to have him touch my shoulder with his paw and then suddenly run out of the room as if we had been playing a game of tag and he was waiting for me to wake up just to say "You're it".

.. or that whenever he is cleaning his rear paws sometimes he will hit himself in the face because he thinks the foot belongs to another cat?

..or that after he kicks himself he will bite the foot of the "other cat" in retaliation for kicking him in the face only to then kick himself again in the face because of the "other cat" who had just bitten his leg?

..or that his favorite toy is an old "fed ex" box that if we try to throw it out he goes out and brings it back just to sit inside of it and play with the "other cat"

..or that if you hold open a large plastic shopping bag, he will jump inside and if you don't swing him back and forth he will shout at you until you do

..or that when I go to the bathroom he insists upon coming too and if I don't let him in, he slides himself under the door only to then come and sit on my shoulder while I "take care of business"

..or that when I am trying to do something and he is extremely annoying and won't stop getting in my way, I go and start to pretend to set up as if we are about to have dinner so that he will go and sit in "his spot" for at least the next ten minutes and I can finish whatever it was I was doing

..or that I have used this method of distraction so often that now when I actually do set up for dinner he comes to kitchen just to "check" that I am actually about to bring dinner and only then will he go and remain seated in "his spot" and wait to be "served"

None of that is strange, is it? Nahh, I didn't think so either.

Linking up with Adventures in Mommyhood's Weekly  Sunday Funday

Sugarplum Fairies

Sleep. It is something I very rarely do. When I do sleep, it isn't  because I feel sleepy. Often times I sleep because well it's been 27 hrs since the last time I slept so it just seemed the right to thing to do. Majority of the time when I do sleep it is often due to help from some OTC aid, but this lack of sleeping doesn't stop me from dreaming.

While most people dream when they are asleep, I dream while I am awake. I dream about a lost little girl sitting alone. Singing lullabies to her stuffed animals. Gently rocking them in the safe comfort of her arms. Even from a distance, I can see the sorrow etched across her soul. I find myself longing to know what she dreams of.

Does she even dream?

Does she ever long to be a ballerina or an astronaut?

Does she hope to be a doctor or  a teacher?

Even though her haunting eyes reveal so many things, they keep her dreams safely hidden. Far from the prying eyes of those who might steal them. They are her treasure. Hers and hers alone. Like a fierce warrior, she defends them. Protects them. They are her only possession.

Suddenly she looks up. She is aware of my presence. Aware of my watchful stare.

I wave to her, but frightened she disappears. Saddened by her sudden departure, I return to my own dreams. Hoping to find her there.


This was for the Studio 30+ writing prompt "Childhood Dreams"