You got the needle?

That's me. Waiting to pop like a balloon. Full of frustration and weakness. Generally hopeful and optimistic. Those emotions are trapped in the drain from where I washed my hair.........

Pop like a balloon? Crying not needed. Relief, constantly searching.....

Sexual frustration? Look in the laundry basket.

Issues....well rounded, and plausible.

Environmental reactions..... on the way. Like the hero in those trashy paperback novels my great grandmother would read.......

Today, is blah. It's sprinkly. At least I got out of bed, out of the house.

Nothing sad going on, nothing dramatic, or anything exciting and happy, just a dose of nothing.

I guess, monotony.

Sometimes, I don't know what is worse, drama unfolding everywhere....
or, nothing to report.

Wait and see. I suppose.

If you need me, I will be in the bathtub, peeking over the edge, like a gator in the swamp.

All it Takes......is cheezy eggs.

Conjunctivitis of the life? What? Digging useless pits in the backyard, trying like hell to bury all the wrong crap in my life?
Rambling about validation, and having the cable turned off.... fixing? Turn on the timer.....

Could I bear it?

Can I lay in the swing in the backyard all my life? Hiding in a tree in the woods? Can't find me? Look up. Look at the dove in the tree.... she's at the very top.


Cutting the tops off of carrots I planted in the garden? Mindlessly washing them off while the pot on the stove boils over. Barely noticing.


Staying captive in your house and the only outlet is what isn't true interaction, with only my white flag waving...... and consumes you? Constantly connected to your network? I have a big list of friends.... but truly, only 4. If you look closely, I am hiding between the dryer and washer in the bathroom, like the "ghost boy" from 3 Men and a Baby.......

Digging like an earthworm, feeding on the dirt, getting fat, rising to the top of the soil when it rains.....drowning when it pours.

Staring at the preacher, having the words pound at your heart, while singing my favorite hymn, the lump in your throat becomes too large so I can't sing.
Tears come out, the silent ones, not a sob in sight.

Then, someone asks me, are you alright? Well, no. I'm not. More tears, sobs pop out of my little mouth before you realize it's happening....
The pain in my belly starts pouring out like water from a pitcher.......


Tearing out the guts of the piano I love so much to make a sled, because you desire the wind in my hair, finally feeling the mind blowing orgasm you so desperately needed while trying the new position I thought I really wouldn't be into.... Ripping up books I adore, and things you have written because it feels like a facade.....throwing them in the air like a snowstorm.......

These are the things escaping right now. Even if you read this months from now, years, even.....

When life is different still, maybe a little more easier, down the road.....

You will still find me at my kitchen table, itching to fight.

I had a guy that came to buy dog food, he wanted the bottom bag.....
Ok. He wanted the 40 lb bag.
Still, ok. I walked around, picked up the other bags, obviously, struggling.
This man was 6 foot something, capable.
I am 115 lb, tiny, lifting, moving, (fine, it's just fine).....
He lets me move shit around, and I am coming unglued.
Then, he states, have you ever baled hay before?
Well, yes. I have.
You can tell, you moved those without any trouble.....
You stuck your knee underneath it, it was natural for you.
The gloves came off. My defenses weak.....
He said, I would have moved those for you, but, you took it in your own hands.

What?

He left. He was nice.
He made me think.
People try to help me, and I resist.

I dig very deep, and you can only see my little eyeballs poking out of the ground.
And then , I bitch to myself, why can't anyone hear me?


Growing paranoia that someone will grab my feet as I go up the stairs.

Pink Moon

I'm just different. That's it. I am not going to be like my friends, maintaining marriages, chasing children, normal life.....

I may have to be smack dab in the jungle wresting snakes the size of myself.





Already, I show that I am just not like my precious group of girls.

I may not ever live in Texas with Jme.
I may not ever preach to congregations like her.

I may not ever touch another person's heart through ministry like that.

But, I know, God is using me in a mighty way.





I do not get along with electronics. If it's near me, I screw it up.
My camera? Screwed up.....
Cell phone? Hanging by a moment.
Literally.
It's just about in 2 pieces. Who cares?
No screen?
Screw it. Walk by faith, not by sight.......

My camera? Just leave it be.

It still works, but, it has cranberry juice in it.





Last night, I came out of church, and I was immediately happy.

My reason? You could hear the frogs making that frog noise....
It confirmed that warm weather is just round the bend.





My wake time? 5 A.M.

I don't understand my cycle. I have slept well lately.
Not last night. I kept waking up. I had this face in my head.

It was an ugly, twisted face. Not of anyone I know, but it was a face.



I could see a bare bit of light coming through the window in the next room.



My pillow and I could not get into rhythm.





Lent is almost over. Awesome. Will I start inhaling sugar? Nah.

Lent has been powerful. I still love pushing myself to limits, that are, sometimes, uncomfortable. Well, when it comes to temptations, I suppose.

I have read over and over in the bible about when Satan led Jesus into the desert.

It overwhelms me.

My weakness? Understanding.

I usually don't discuss my ex husband, and I won't bad mouth him.

Even though,I had never experienced such full devastation.

You see, it's been a year. Not today, but, in this month, it was a year.

March hasn't ever been a kind month.

My dog Chris, who was 14, died in 2007, of March.

You know who, left, March 2008....

My March 2009 story...... brings 2008 all too real again.



Have you heard the phrase, let a dead dog lie...??
Sometimes, that dead dog will get up and bite you square in the ass.......



I struggle. With improving. I struggle. With letting go.

I struggle with finding my place in the sun.



I had told my Pastor's wife last night, I just crave understanding.





The loneliest time? In the morning.

I spend almost all day long, alone, and it's not at work, right before....

And, I am a morning person.(kinda)

When I get out of bed, a certain melancholy feeling drapes over me, then, I'm relieved. I'm not leaving anyone behind in the bed.....

Go on, get up. Start the coffee.

Or right before I crawl in the bed.....and I realize, oh, it's empty.

This morning, I woke up at the foot of the bed......head at the foot?

My sweatpants somewhere on the floor....

At night, it can be the worst. It seems to be the most sobering point of my evening.

Not eating over my sink, one foot propped up on the inside of my knee....

Or when I come home, and look out the front door around dark, bc, I apparently am always expecting someone.....

So, I hate that....

I usually am a champ at ignoring those feelings. I plunge myself into projects, I go for a walk, fistfight anxiety......

What has ultimately hurt my feelings the most?

Till the Garden!!!

Tuesday. What a good day!!! I had my haircut, and it looks fabulous, probably the best H/C Mr. Pete Higgs has given me in a good while!!! Headlight out in my car got me off track from basking, yes, basking in the sun, for about 30 minutes, and right to Landa's. Beer drinking started at 1:00. Which is not something I just do. Have a beer @ 1:00? There are times the exception has to happen!!! We can't always follow those rules!!!!

We had to rent a tiller, there we go, beboppin' down the highway, in silence.
Listen closely.
What? You heard me.
Pure Quiet. Which isn't the rule either, generally Landa and I are talking. Steadily.

Not this cow.

It took, I don't know, 15 minutes to get to the place......
So we get back, hang out, still, not a lot of talking.

We seem fine with that.

Brings me back to a time Kim Perfetti and I could spend the entire day and barely say 10 words the whole day. This is when her oldest was a toddler. I guess we were 18ish. 19ish.

Back to Landa's.... the back door was open, we had a sandwich and watched Days of our Lives, and began our plan of action.

Should we wait for Steven to get the tiller off the trailer?

No, we don't. We hardly ever wait for Steven to help.
So Landa, taking matters in her own hands, gets the thing off of the trailer, and begins.

I roll up my jeans, bring up my top to sun my belly, lay my head on a towel, and nap.
Plain and simple. Nap in the back yard. On the trailer. While she does her tilling.

Legs danglin'....

I leave my chucks on.

Somehow, I cut my ankle during my nap. During a nap?

The boys get home.

Steven (her hubby) said, gosh, your'e red.

Seth (the oldest child) states, Miss Paula is getting a tan.....

Well. I am red, red lines to separate my chucks from my skin, jean line (bruise on hip from St. Paddy's day, knees, just about bruise free),(which is another post for another day, you thought I forgot, APW?), perfect line from my scoop neck tank top......

Before going home, we go to soccer practice....still, not a lot of talking....
Contentment I suppose, the past week, Landa and I have had those comfortable silences...

Before home, I drag my rear to the dam to walk, work some bugs out, try to work up an appetite for supper....

Drop by the grocery store, the lady says "Dang, you're red!!" I laugh.
BC, I am sweating. I mean, I am hot..... to the very touch....

I get home to inspect my skin, oh, it is red.....
Freckles poppin' out. My freckles are just perfect.
For me.
I love each one.

So, I'm a little itchy today. I don't have any lotion at my house, so I rub baby oil on myself, which, I don't really like.
I sit on the edge of the tub to dry out......

I'm cold, and hot all at once, so I put on my finest little shirt and panties, and my Melissa Dees toboggan, dodge Champ claws at all costs....

All and all, perfect day.

I didn't really feel any anxiety, or pressure, I went with the flow, instead of insisting doing things my way.....going against the grain....

The goats from the sheep

The one. Let me start with that parable form the Bible. Jesus told a story about a shepherd that left the 99 to look for the one. The shepherd? Worried about the one that could have fell in a pit, eaten by wolves, or worse, having a blast playing all day and at night discovering he's all by himself. It's easy to be the one sheep. Away from the herd. Or be the shepherd. To worry about the one. We are never left behind. That I believe.


My best friend, who is so beautiful and perfect, made me mad this week. Unintentionally. And it was brief. Fleeting. The mad? She really just told me the truth. She said, you have to go through the valleys to appreciate the mountains. Really?


Can I just not have to learn and endure so much? Has 2008 not been enough for me for now?


I don't know what God is preparing me for. I haven't a clue.


But it has to be huge. It has to be.



I look back on the uncomfortable. The devastating. The reason I know I am supposed to be someone amazing.



Here's something that eats at me. (But of course, love at the same time.)Being told how pretty I am. Or the word beautiful. Well, I don't feel that way. It's easy to be sexually attractive to men. It's easy to win them over with a piece of "the pie."



What isn't easy? Is the "uglier" parts of myself. The imperfections. The vulnerable. The awkward. The honest.



Do you know the times when I feel the cutest? When I find a tree to sit in, and let my feet dangle in my huge rubber boots I wear out in the woods. Or when I'm just about to fall asleep in a beater and my panties, cuddled up with Champ. Sitting on the dryer writing in my journal, listening to music.


The ugly? Ha. It's all over the place. My mama told me, over the weekend, that sometimes I say the meanest things before I realize it. Or I always assume others know when I'm being facetious.

Whoops.

Point taken, Vicky Clause.


I've had to look back lately.


Hurt is so hard to get over. I know, March was going to be difficult. I knew how hard it was going to be. Continuing to let go, and to move on. It was hard to let go of my marriage.

Open?
Open minded?
Sometimes, it's impossible.


Sometimes, it backfires.


It leaves you unapproachable.

My issues? It's not trust. Or cheating. Or fear of people leaving me.

Is hope. That's my issue. I am so hopeful, that it makes me shake.


Wearily, I feel like I'm just waiting. Waiting for the good. I already battled the bad and the ugly.


For the time being. Sometimes, all I want is a good hug. A tiny little moment of it's gonna be alright......


I heard a sermon yesterday. It was by the great Dr. Charles Stanley.
He was at his church in Atlanta.
In the great state of Georgia.
His message? It was about doing our best.
About how parents can cultivate their children.
He spoke about his mother.



How his mother always told him to do his best.


Well, did you try your best? Yes. Then you did all you could do.


That was how my parents were. School was so difficult for me. I hated it. It's a 1997 miracle I was able to get out of high school. they encouraged me, but to do my best, and even when my best wasn't the standard, they accepted me.


A flicker of encouragement can light the fire...

Ei Ei O

Yesterday, I received some great news. Yesterday, I was able to let out a long, sigh of relief. Able to close one more door. Closer to breaking free. Facing things that give me anxiety, loosen the strings a little bit, makes me a happy camper.
I have more than I need, or deserve. Lent has proven itself to be exceptional. There are times I have to hold back. Occasions, I just can't have what I desire. Lent has taught me, self denial can, and will continue to be rewarding.

MY HEAD CHANGE HAPPENED RIGHT HERE....



You know those voices in your head? The ones that say, be selfish. You deserve it. Haven't you done enough? Go on, little piggy, go for it. I want to be. I love to be, then that other voice chimes in, Guilt?

Guilt and I are familiar lovers. We glance at each other, then look away. I tell myself to resist. I push it deep down, sweeping it out of the way like I sweep the steps at home. I fall for it still. Guilt holds me in it's arms like a mama holds it's baby. Like when a man loves a woman. Guilt shoots me down like a hunter in the woods.

Ragamuffin. What a word. It sums up exactly what I feel like.

I want to go back to bed, cover my head, and ignore life.

And stop my mind from being curious about what I'm missing out on.

Ignore the lessons I have to learn.

A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. Proverbs 15:1.

There's also a song in my head.

I don't know the name of it, but one of the lines is
"Give me revelation" .......

That's a part of my hodge podge of emotion, right? Give me revelation.
Hurt. Confusion. Honest. Humbled.

Yearning for comfort.

I have been in the middle of just throwing an awful fit.

I don't always feel better after those, those, FITS.


I feel worse, actually. I feel absolutely lost.

My knuckles aren't better from the last fit I threw.
I'm glad, it's given me a reminder.

Blah, blah, blah. Fuck it. That's how it may be for the day. Blah. And nothing else. I don't feel like myself, like a wolf in sheep's clothing to be exact. Sometimes, my emotions deceive me to the point of losing control. That's it.


How 'bout not making me feel like a fuck up?

How 'bout not breaking your phone in half too?

Being enveloped in David Bowie is okay though. (1971)

Buddy Rich, I am.

I'm Buddy Rich when I fly off the handle. What could it be, It's a mirage, you're scheming on a thing that's sabotage. ( Self sabotage )

That's like standing on the threshold of a sinkhole. Like the one I know well,and I still think is amazing..... Nothing around it, just smack dab in the middle of the woods. It's very deep, so deep, that when you throw rocks in it, it's hard to hear where it hits. Also, amazing hiding place. No one thinks to look for you by a huge sinkhole.


Dreams. Dreams. Dreams. Working overtime in my little mind at night. They say, when you dream, that dreams arise from REM sleep, in which the brain is as active as it is when the body is awake. Makes crystal clear sense to me.

Latest dream? About a snake in a creek. I had stopped by the creek, and stuck my foot in, it was cold, but I couldn't see the bottom. Which is a phobia of mine. I can't get into water I can't see my feet in. Stupid huh? Being a woman of faith, that's my fear? Silly.

The snake, was very thick, almost cartooney. I was very fearful. First of all, I had put my hand out to touch it. Cartooney, and very mean looking. I wanted to pet it though. Very curious about what kind of snake it could be, I get in the water, waist deep. Just about to catch the thing, and I wake up.

I hate that. When I just don't know how it ends. Or being completely awakened from something so intense. I looked at the clock. 3:33.

Triple numbers? That's my shizzy. I dig the triple threat I suppose.

Snakes seen in a dream. Many different interpretations.

To see a snake or be bitten by one in your dream, signifies hidden fears and worries that are threatening you. Alerting you of something in your waking life you may not be aware of.

Symbolize temptation. Fears of sex, intimacy, or commitment. Phallic symbol.(obvious)

Snakes can represent healing, transformation, knowledge, and wisdom.

Indicative of self renewal and positive changes.


Kindly sheep, your gentleness is sometimes misunderstood for weakness.