**I think I wrote this for an older draw… stumbled upon it and felt like reposting it**

Make Believe

Everyday I imagine we are close even when I distance us
My head swims with uncertainty and I tend to push you away.
I listen to the silence and pretend to hear optimistic promises
but the darkness eats them up.

Everyday I lie to myself and pretend all is well in my world
That I am happy with the choices I have made.
I listen to my heart and try to quiet it’s pleas for more than this
but I am tired and dismiss it as nothing.

Everyday my dreams of greatness sink further away
Laziness becomes the path of least resistance.
I listen to my doubts and begin to think they are truths
and I am meant to accomplish nothing.

~2

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***This was posted for the draw: “Our lives are kept in Equipoise by opposite attractions and desires.” - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow “Haunted Houses” ***

I posted this a long time ago… but it immediately came to mind tonight when thinking about what to write for this draw… I apologize for reposting but I think it’s appropriate.

I want…

I want to be content… to not wish there was something more. 
I want to be able to look at my life with no regrets, and be perfectly happy with what I have. 
To not be angry that I am not where I want to be or question why I am with - who I am with. 
I don’t want to obsess about the things that I should have or shouldn’t have done.
I want to be handed this contentment on a  plate and not have to struggle to attain it… a beautifully wrapped gift in the palm of my hand.

I want not to be afraid to open it.

~2

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**OK, so this is a repost… I doubt anyone will remember it because it was WAAAAY back when… so read it and pretend it’s new.**

I remember 6th grade like it was yesterday.  Sitting in science class watching The Miracle of Life, a very UNSEXY rendition of baby making, thinking there is no way in HELL I am ever popping a kid out of THERE.  I am sure that was the whole point of making us watch the 2 1/2 hour flick… of course our parents had to sign a slip saying it was ok, and the girls watched it in one room and the boys in another.  ANYway, I held pretty tight to this no kid thing all through highschool. 

To understand more about making us watch this film, you need to understand a little more about the city in which I resided.  I think it was on the high side of the states numbers for teen pregnancy.  There were more than 10 girls in my graduating class (maybe almost 100) that had or were expecting kids.  One girl was on number three when we walked off the stage with diploma in hand… so the flick didn’t deter everyone, and it sure didn’t deter the rest of us from having sex.

I actually started thinking about it after graduation, but only after witnessing the birth of my best friends daughter… which she conveniently named after me… poor girl.  After that moment, I started to obsess.  I know.. that is so unlike me (bleah).  I was going to have a kid someday, not anytime in the near future.  I still didn’t have the other half of my baby’s gene pool decided at that time, so I wasn’t in a real rush or anything. There was a plan too.  I wanted to be married… maybe for a year then a kid.  Like my mom, I figured I turned out ok (who am I kidding), so why mess up a good thing.  I know better than anyone else, life doesn’t always go according to plan.

So, anyway, I meet this guy… a real weirdo, just the way I like ‘em. He’s 6′4″ 230 lb … long dark hair with the bluest eyes I have ever seen.  Never wore pants, always these weird homemade shorts with cartoon characters on them…. a rainbow of converse all-stars and doc martins…  Nose pierced - neck pierced… awesome drummer.  I was weird too, don’t get me wrong here.  I was not the normal, law-abiding citizen I am today.  OK, maybe I am not normal… but I am law-abiding.  Thus began the second longest relationship of my life… Let’s call this guy Ricardo, just for fun, and it sounds kind of foreign, exotic.

Ricardo didn’t want kids, and I told him that I wasn’t planning on pursuing a long drawn out relationship with someone who didn’t share the same goals in life…. so I don’t know why we stuck it out so long.  So to make a long weird story as short as I can … when we finally started talking about having kids, we were able to come up with a set of “ideas” (if you will) on how to raise our child.  I want to share these with you because I feel that they might be of use when or if you decide to have children of your own:

1.  We were not going to let our child’s feet ever touch the ground. He would be carried whenever possible, and led to believe that it would be unholy for his feet to touch anything other than the finest cloth or flower petals. 

2.  Ok this one is really bad.  We were going to tell him over and over that he was the new messiah and leader of all people.

3.  The child shall be homeschooled, because you don’t learn anything in public school other than how to have (really bad) sex and do drugs.

4.  He shall learn many foreign languages and be well cultured in the arts.

5.  We would try a new form of discipline. This is hard to explain, but it entails when he does something wrong to punish the parent.. ie “If you do that again.. I am going to beat your mother”.  Instilling a great amount of guilt for his actions.

I know there are more, but I really can’t remember, it’s been a long time.   I know you are all curious…. did they have a kid together? 

HA!  Wouldn’t you like to know!  I am not telling, SUKKA!  I’ll leave that to the imagination, or those who know the WHOLE story.

ANYway, use those child rearing ideas if you like… or feel free to add to or embellish if you will.  Let me know how your kids turn out… I am curious too.

~2

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******This morning my new neice entered the world.  A whole whopping 7 lbs 1.5 oz and 20 inches long.  My good friend/cousin went by and took a few pictures for me… and was nice enough to email them to me this evening…  I couldn’t wait to share them with you.******

WELCOME ELLA ELIZABETH

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Tonight my heart is heavy… I am sure it’s a combination of many things, but one in particular:

Tomorrow my sister has her baby.

I am totally going to miss it, and it just breaks my heart.  This is her third child, the first almost 10 years ago this week was miscarried about a week before her due date.  The second, my beautiful Danni, is almost a year older than my precious Brynn.

When Danni got here I was so excited, my sister’s pregnancy was full of stress, and we were really fearing the worst.  We were all so relieved when she arrived here absolutely perfect.

ANYway… I was able to see her almost everyday.. it is totally killing me that I won’t be able to see this baby.  I have to be with my job for like 6 months before I can even request time off… she isn’t going to know me.

Is it stupid that I would consider moving back to Oklahom JUST for that?

Danni

These silly girls can accessorize (Brynn and Danni)

Man, it feels good to be a gangster.  (Danni)

Brynn’s not picky.. she’d eat anything as long as Danni gave it to her (this the house before the trim)

Band practice

Tub Time at Papa’s house

Damn being a girl.. and these damn hormones.. bleah
~2

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A while back I wrote about a weekly photoblog… and kind of promised it to a new local magazine… Well I changed my mind about doing it for them, and would rather keep it on here.. with photos.  I know atleast here - you guys kinda “get” me.. haha

I wrote this a while back and Kemari did take some pics with her phone, but since I didn’t really need them I think they have been lost in cell phone wonderland. I promise the next one will have photos

I still want to do the “My first tattoo in Phoenix” photoblog.. any of you locals that want to come out and share the ink… let me know.  Let’s make a day of it.. take lots of pics… and blog our hearts out.

(you guys actually like the “shits” and “fucks” so I might just bring them back for you  )

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I’ve been in the beautiful city of  Phoenix for almost three months now, and I have yet to venture out.  Moving from Nowhere,

Oklahoma, I have yet to experience some of the things the locals consider everyday life.  So, I have decided that I should document these experiences for you.  I am sure you are very concerned on how people view your incredible city, and would wait impatiently for my next adventure out… IN THE BIG CITY…

I knew today was going to be special.  I have had this target in mind for several weeks now.  Not that it’s a particularly BIG deal; it’s just that I have been the Queen of Procrastination lately.  I have been milling over the idea of visiting Starbucks for some time.  We have Starbucks in Oklahoma… not in my home town, but I could definitely find one in

Oklahoma City, if I were there doing some shopping.  I wasn’t really sure I wanted to go.  I mean I didn’t want to buy into this potentially expensive trend, but I had to have something to write about… and visiting the exotic dancers at Christie’s Cabaret didn’t sound like something I wanted to attempt with baby in tow… yet.

 

Of course I waited until almost time to pick the kid up from school before I decided to head that way.  A good friend came along, and we headed to the Starbucks on Thunderbird and

43^rd  Ave.

  Every time I drive by that place, there is an endless line of cars.  We were a little behind, but decided to run in and grab a cup of Joe.

 

Getting out of the car, I noticed a woman carrying a clear cup of frozen goodness topped happily with whipped cream, and I immediately began to salivate.  I was stopped short when I noticed a small person following her with a similar drink. 

What was this?  Could this be a genetically engineered adult… one that keeps his childlike appearance way longer than most?  This couldn’t be an actual child.  I mean, who would give a child a large cup of caffeine loaded to the max with sugar.  The kid had to be about eight years old; the same age as my son.  There is no way in HELL I would ever let my kid touch that stuff.  I strongly feel that would require an exorcism.  Maybe this is something people do in the BIG CITY.

 

Still in shock, I walked through the door, and immediately the smell was intoxicating.  With hearts in my eyes, I scanned the place for something I could pick apart… I got nothing.  The place was clean and neat and practically sparkling.  I made my way to the line with baby on my hip and my best friend at my side.  She had been there before, and was hip to their crazy coffee lingo.  My eyes glazed over as I spotted the menu… was that stuff coffee?

 

“What do you want?” She said.

I looked at her all crazy like, “I want something frozen… what’s frozen?”  She began to mumble something… I am not sure if it’s coffee; it kind of resembled a foreign language.  So don’t ask me what she ordered, cause I don’t have a clue.  I looked to my right and there were these crazy pastries… HUGE.  Cookies bigger than my head; cakes… oh man rice crispy crunchies.  How can these people not be incredibly fat?  I did a quick scan again of the lobby, and there was only one person who I would consider gravity-challenged.  I was probably the fattest person in there… and I ordered a thousand calorie drink and a delicious pumpkin scone the size of my nineteen month old child… and I ate it all.

 

Damn you, Starbucks!! Damn you and your incredibly addictive sugary goodness.  I don’t know why I wanted you to see me crash like this.  I already know what I am ordering next time I go… and the next… and the next.  Do you think if I worked there, I could get my frozen stuff for free?… cheap?

~2

side note… since writing this article, I think I have been close to a dozen times.  I am considering an auto deduct… do they deliver?

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Growing up, the majority of my friends were male.  My best friend was a guy up until my senior year, when Brenda hit the ranking of full time best friend.  She was close enough to a guy… she could definitely hold her own in a belching contest… and fuckin’ cussed like a sailor (last time I saw her she still had her old potty mouth.. hehe.. Love you Bren). ANYway… I think I can safely say I know LOTS about the male brain.

I have always been the friend… rarely the girlfriend… that was just weird.  On multiple occasions me and my “brothers” would load up my trunk with boards and head off to somewhere exciting.  I drove… and took the pictures, delivered the moral support and offered advice when I could.  When it came to their “girlfriends,” I can always shake my head in disgust.

Guys in general go for one type of girl… you know the one, and it’s usually the one who breaks their hearts later on.  But it is strange how this girl can some how magically intoxicate this boy… and somehow no matter what she does to him… he will always forgive her and take her back… she knows he will… she is absolutely sure she is a “goddess” and in his eyes… yeah she is.

I won’t lie… some of my friends girls were the biggest bitches I have ever met… and I was forced to hang out with them on occasion.  I can get along with anyone… but ask me if I liked it.  Just smile and nod, Tomara, pretend that you care about her clothes, makeup, hair… pretend that that outfit is “the bomb”… bleah.

My mother has always said that you are only as pretty as you act.. and it’s funny because if these girls looked anything like they acted… their bodies would be covered with oozing pus-filled boils.

ANYway… the point of all of this nonsense:

Yesterday after I got off work, I had to pick my son up from the after school program.  On the way back to our apartment he started on about the kids in school and what he did during the day, etc.  He went on about this girl, Morgan, in his class.  He has talked about her before, saying she is mean to him.  I had explained, previously, that that just meant that she liked him, and he would usually get upset and just walk away. 

SO, anyway the bad news… Morgan had to sit close to him in reading groups before.. but now… she sits right next to him.

“Well, is she pretty?” I asked.

He was starting to blow me off, “She thinks she is a princess, and she is mean to me…”

“Is she pretty?” I am persistent..

“She doesn’t act pretty… so no she’s not.” I couldn’t help but smile.  It tickled me that I have instilled that in him… already. 

For a moment I felt like I had accomplished this HUGE thing… He didn’t like her because she was ugly to other people… and him… because she thinks she is better than everyone else… heh…

Right now he doesn’t like her, but in a couple of years, when those hormones kick in… he’ll be carrying her books to class and mixing her chocolate milk… boys - Will they EVER learn?

~2

For some weird reason this saying just popped in my head - my deceased ex-step grandmother use to say, “She thinks she’s hot shit on a golden platter… and really she’s just a cold turd on a paper plate”
hahahahaha… that kills me

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This week I have reentered the work force… Ok I am a trainee, but still.. they are paying me.  I know this is going to sound a bit sick and twisted, but I am loving every minute of it.. well except the traffic. 

The traffic is bad, but it gives me lots of time to think about all these blogs I am not posting… and man… the music. Have I told you I have a real weakness for music?  I haven’t… weird.

I will try to explain…

At one point in time, the world revolved around music.  My world.  I couldn’t imagine a life without it.  The very beat of my heart, the rhythm in my breath… the dancing algorithms that make up my brain. I wanted to be somewhere where I could be surrounded… enveloped… devoured by it.  Ok I did mention I was/am a bit of a weirdo.

There are two things in this world, outside of the being a mother thing, that allow me to totally relax and forget about all those things that are heavy on my mind.  One, of course, is my bath tub… the other is just resting my brain and turning up the volume.

Think about it.. is there anything better than overwhelming the senses with the sweetest aural sugar.

I was fortunate enough this year to be surprised with a little technological goodness known as ipod nano.  I love this lil bit O honey, but it’s still not the same as being surround by elecrical pulses reverberated by sheer volume.  To feel the music enter your very soul and radiate througout your entire body… so yeah, it’s pretty loud on the drive home, but it relieves much stress.

SO… in the truck right now.. well this week I have been rotating/revolving a couple of favorites right now CLUTCH - PURE ROCK FURY and SYSTEM OF A DOWN - MEZMERIZE.  Either of these cds start my day off right… they make that 6am traffic tolerable… and even kick that 3:30 traffic in the ass too.  Put a smile on my face before I enter those doors…. where I rejoin the “normal”.

Now that I feel like I have rambled and rambled… what’s in your player right now?  What makes your day or starts your day off right?  Stress busters?

~2

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There is a girl I know who was curled up on her bathroom floor less than an hour ago wishing she were strong enough to take her own life.  Hoping she could find the strength to slit her wrists and bleed out the sickness. 

She told me she was confused and too weak to carry out the deed.  She was afraid of what might happen to her beautiful children. Imagining them growing up knowing that their mother didn’t want to be a part of their lives. Mother and father; sister and brothers; nieces; nephews; maybe a cousin; a friend; or just a stranger or menial passerby… all affected in some way… could this very well be the end of the world?

Mind racing, heart torn…. confused…. she lay there clenching her head; face wrenched.  Tomorrow when all is forgotten the swollen aftermath of a face will remind her of her torment. 

She told me she wished she could do it… she whispered how easy it would be.  The cold blade slicing through her flesh as if it were butter.  She mumbled of release, and with each breath the stench of a rotting reality.  What could pain her so… to make her want to take this precious gift?  How could she take away that best friend, loving sister, daunting daughter, wife, and mother?  How could she be so selfish… one moment of relief, yet a lifetime of burden for those who knew and/or loved her.

Maybe her confusion clouded what was really important in her life… maybe she thought she knew what she wanted, but time changed her mind or she was too afraid to go after it. Maybe… just maybe, she was waiting for someone to just sweep her away and tell her that everything will be alright… a personal savior.  Maybe she was waiting for you… or maybe… me.  To get her head out of the clouds and give her a swift kick in the ass… to tell her to quit being so DAMN selfish and to GROW the fuck UP.

Don’t you dare pity her… selfish bitch.

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***I wrote this for the draw:  “Many persons have a wrong idea of what constitutes true happiness.  It’s not attained through self gratification, but through fidelity to a worthy purpose.” - Helen Keller (submitted by Carolyn 6/10/05)***

 

We live vicariously through our children, especially around the holidays.  As we get older, Christmas becomes less about us, but more about our kiddos.  I especially like watching their smiling faces as they race to see what Santa has left them under the tree.

 

My son will be nine next month, and I thought it was time that I dropped the “Santa” bomb on him.  I really didn’t want to tell him, but he had been talking about how the kids at school says “Santa is fake”, and he was so certain that those kids were full of bologna.  I was sure I could pull it off again this year… like always he just rips the presents open… never looking at the tags to see which are from us and which are from the jolly man in red.

 

We made a longASS road trip to Oklahoma to spend the holidays with family there.  DH (Dear Husband for those just tuning in) thought it might be a good idea to open presents with his parents in Edmond, Saturday night… so the kids had time to play in plain view of Nanny and Papa before we made yet another trip to my mom’s in Elk City (about 2 hours away) Christmas morning.  I was worried that this early present presentation would stir problems with the Santa gifts on Monday morning… being that I don’t mark anything from Santa; Gabe just assumes Santa came and left him all the good stuff.

 

After milling it over and over in my head, I thought I should tell him… Monday morning was going to come and Santa wouldn’t bring anything, because the turkey would have opened them all Saturday night. 

Gabe has grandparents in

Midwest City, and I promised him that we would drive over and visit them a bit while we were close. SO… we go and visit for a while, and on the drive back I try to muster the courage to shatter all his magically hopes and dreams of this fictional bearded fellow.

 

“Gabe… I need to talk to you about something.” I mumbled.

“Oh, yeah… ” he went on and on about some other stuff.. non related material.  He’s good at making no sense whatsoever.

 

“There once was this guy who liked to surprise the children on Christmas morning with gifts, etc….” I couldn’t really remember where I was going with this… so I made up some stuff.  I really should have looked into this before I started into my story, “He wanted to surprise all the good children this time of year… to show the importance of giving… um, what do you think about this?”

 

“We should really be focusing on the birth of baby Jesus?” he goes into.

 

“um… I guess, but that is not what I am saying,” I don’t go into the religious aspect of the holiday, mainly due to the fact I am agnostic.  I don’t push religion on him, so he gets his baby Jesus stories from somewhere else… not sure really where. “Basically what I am trying to say is how likely is it for one guy to bring gifts to all the boys and girls all over the world?”

 

“Are you saying he isn’t real?”  I look over at him and he is starting to tear up… DAMMIT!! Why did I do this… look at him, all teary eyed and sad-like.  I just broke his heart.  I can hear it now, years down the road in therapy, he’s going to talk about the day his mother told him Santa didn’t exist, and how it ruined his life… FOREVER… shit.

 

“Oh baby, what I am trying to say  is that you’re old enough now to know the truth, we all have to carry on the tradition… Santa is in here (I point to my chest like a dumb ass)… he lives in all of us.  We have to honor his memory by giving to others,” etc, etc. I go on to tell him that it is his civic duty not to mention this to anyone, to make sure his sister gets to experience this all for herself… that as long as he doesn’t say anything… he will continue to get gifts from “Santa”… “Why are you crying? Are you mad at me for not telling you, or are you mad at me for telling you?”

 

“I dunno why I am crying.  I just am.” He chokes out.

 

Damn it if that wasn’t the shittiest thing I have ever done.  I ruined that kid’s ideas and beliefs… all the magic and wonder… bleah.  He still promised not to say a word and he would help to make other’s happier by giving selflessly and anonymously.

 

SO… this kid has a big mouth and told everyone at Nanny and Papa’s house that Santa isn’t real.

 

THEN… to make things worse on me… he thought I was lying and kept saying that Santa was going to leave something for him at home and he would get it when we returned to Phoenix… GEEZ… I can’t win with this kid.

 

To sum it up… ignorance = happiness

 

~2

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I am going to try to get in the habit of posting atleast once a day, so bare with me… it’s going to be a rocky start.

Since ditching the meds, my head has been racing with thoughts I need to get out, but sadly right now I can’t seem to remember any of them.  I have been thinking about the most ridiculously scary stuff too.  While at my mother’s house I was able to watch LOTS of television.  I don’t like to watch TV… albiet it is always on at my house… it’s usually on some kid stuff or a music channel. 

SO… I was watching TV with my mother and crocheting… man, I am turning into an old lady… me and my fucking crochet.  Don’t you dare tell a soul I do that on occasion.  My mother does it, and I thought it would be fun.  Oh MY FUCKING GOD… I just said that crocheting would be fun… stop reading here and look up some porn or something.  geez.

OK OK OK… my story… I was watching Oprah with my mother… and they were showing these lovely pics of dust mites… so now I am having nightmares about these things.  Crawling all over me in my sleep… in my mouth and nose… eating my dead flesh, etc….. stuff horror movies are made of, I tell ya.

Oprah changes her sheets every 2 days… right.  I doubt that woman wipes her own ass, let alone changes her sheets… WHATEVER.  ANYway… I am freaking out about these things.  I am considering scouring with steel wool before bed…. and making sure I change my sheets right before I get in the bed… I may even consider sleeping on celophane I can wipe down everynight with bleach water or something… seriously… is there anything that freaks you?

I hate Oprah for showing close ups of those lil buggers… I will NEVER be the same.

~2

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