I've been reading all the hoopla about Leap Day. Every four years we get an extra day. Ok. Extra day. 24 more hours than the last couple years... how do I make it count? I've decided to make today my own personal "Leap Year Brag Day".
I truly have so much to brag about. I am alive! That is the biggest!! Just in my lifetime, the death toll of family and friends is very high, and death has touched someone of every age. From the oldest, my grandfather in his early 90's, to the youngest, my granddaughter who was only 4 months old, I just don't understand death. I guess I am not suppose to understand it. With every death, I find myself with more and more questions as to the rhyme and reason of each life. Why are some so lucky to live a long life and others not given a chance to even know they have a life? I just don't get it. But!! The gratitude I have~ that I woke up breathing this morning, WOW!, now that is LIFE!!
I am happy to say that I also enjoy good health. As a 50's something, I can still get around pretty good. I have the use of all my limbs. I can still hear and see well (yes I wear glasses, but if you're over 40 - who doesn't!?!). About to hit a 15 year milestone of giving up cigarettes. (woo hooo!!) After all the drug experimentation back in the day and living life on the edge of everything all my life, I count each day a blessing. I think the most important of all is I have a good attitude about life. I am one lucky girl. I work 2 jobs, one is physically demanding and I can still keep up!! (Yay!) I am a gamer, I have a DS 3D that I take everywhere with me!! I read alot and now claim to be a 'writer'!! Can't get any better than this!
I am grateful for my relationship. I am coming up to a 4 year anniversary of the night I met Del. From the minute I met him, I was completely and utterly comfortable. I know that sounds lame. And not very romantic. I went through all that in my younger years, you know, basing everything on those 'feelings' of love and desire. Not to say Del and I don't have those feelings but from the very beginning we just connected. For the first time in all my history with men, I didn't just jump in the sack with him. We waited. And agonizingly we waited some more. We had this discussion about finding out if we could be friends first. Both of us burned so badly by mistakes made in failed relationships. We hung out, we drank, we ate, we enjoyed time together, acting like high schoolers with all consuming crushes.... and the wait paid off!! I've not felt so sure of anything in my life as I am about his feelings for me. As human beings we strive for the ultimate feeling of love and security from our partners, and in Del I have that. I must say also, I love him like no one else in my life.
I have a fantastic family unit. 2 great kids, 6 wonderful grankids. My Mom is living at age 77, by herself and to this day still inspires me. Lost my Father many years ago, and is one of the few relationships I wish I had today. I have both my siblings and all my nieces and nephews and their families.....and it just keeps growing!!
I also have a wonderful 'family' of friends. I was not much of a friend to women as I grew up, girls as a rule are just so stupid. (Guy friendships were easier because there was no competition, even now men are more approachable than women.) I did manage to find a rare few that clicked with me. I am not an easy woman to know if you are a woman. I am sorta standoffish. Not that I think I am better or that I don't measure up or that they are or don't... but just not that much in common. I've been told that I am somewhat overbearing. Not really, I just don't take shit and I think for myself. Some women find that trait hard to deal with. Good. If you have issues with that, then you have too much drama for me. I have discovered as I age that those few women I have befriended over the years, have become a great part of my grand scheme in life. Without them, how could I grow? In the last few years I have made a couple new girlbuddy friendships. I am learning so much about myself from all of these very different and amazing women. For this, I am grateful beyond words.
Am I happy? Yes. Am I grateful? Yes. Am I satisfied with my life? Mostly. Truth be told, I would not go back and change a moment. Every little thing that has happened in my life has brought me to today. How in the hell could I not be grateful??
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Thank you Motley Crue!
I wanted to be a singer. Not for the fame. Not for the notoriety. But just cause it feels so good to sing. The endorphins it creates!! It's a serious happy feeling! I retain, in this damaged brain, lyrics to songs long thought forgotten! Due to not having any real singing voice, I am regulated to singing for myself ~ at very high decibels ~ in my car ~ with my stereo up ~ way too loud! Since the car wreck, my little thumper is out of commission, I now wear earbuds (this is so I still cannot hear myself!) because hoopty has only big hole where radio should be. But in my mind... I am the one belting out the heartfelt sentiment that every song carries. I am that pain. I am the rock. I am that joyousness. I am the roll. I am that lover. I am all those and more. It doesn't matter the genre of the music either. I have such an eclectic mix of music on my ipod which spans them all. If I had to choose a specific, it would probably be the blues. Sad, love starved blues, the sadder the better... what a pick me up!!
I have done this since I was a kid, my sister and me, on the big front porch, an old floor lamp with no shade and the bulb holder bent upward to look like a microphone on a stand, screaming out Diana Ross and the Supremes... Aretha Franklin and the Jackson 5. What a memory!!
A couple days ago, I looked out the window at my little blue car, sitting there in the yard, a sad wounded look about it. I longed to jump in it and run up the road.... sigh. Then a flicker of an idea!!! I loaded my ipod with a few heavy bump songs and grabbed my keys. I went out, started the car and plugged in the ipod. The first song began, I cranked the volume and began to feel it. The vibration of the bass flooded my little car, the drivers seat one continuous wave of subtle movement felt only by my body. And the music runs through me like water flows in a creek. Big sigh.. I miss this so much..... and so the singing begins.
(It's not an ordinary car stereo here, I (Yes I said I) removed factory stereo and replaced it with a Sony Xplode and I have two 12's driven by 800 watts, in a huge box that takes up the entire trunk. It may not be a high end system but it cranks for me!!)
I sat in that car, maybe an hour, singing, banging on the steering wheel, feeling the power of the music, feeling the love or pain of the words Iscreamed sang. The only thing missing was the movement, the actual driving of the vehicle. But inside me, heart racing, mind searching for lyrics, crackly voice trying to keep up, I felt alive!
I can't imagine what the neighbors thought I was doing, but it didn't matter to me, just as it doesn't matter to me what the average other driver on the road thinks when they spy me wailing away in my own little world. To me this is heaven. Sorry,
gotta go,
now playing....
Kickstart My Heart!!
=)
I have done this since I was a kid, my sister and me, on the big front porch, an old floor lamp with no shade and the bulb holder bent upward to look like a microphone on a stand, screaming out Diana Ross and the Supremes... Aretha Franklin and the Jackson 5. What a memory!!
A couple days ago, I looked out the window at my little blue car, sitting there in the yard, a sad wounded look about it. I longed to jump in it and run up the road.... sigh. Then a flicker of an idea!!! I loaded my ipod with a few heavy bump songs and grabbed my keys. I went out, started the car and plugged in the ipod. The first song began, I cranked the volume and began to feel it. The vibration of the bass flooded my little car, the drivers seat one continuous wave of subtle movement felt only by my body. And the music runs through me like water flows in a creek. Big sigh.. I miss this so much..... and so the singing begins.
(It's not an ordinary car stereo here, I (Yes I said I) removed factory stereo and replaced it with a Sony Xplode and I have two 12's driven by 800 watts, in a huge box that takes up the entire trunk. It may not be a high end system but it cranks for me!!)
I sat in that car, maybe an hour, singing, banging on the steering wheel, feeling the power of the music, feeling the love or pain of the words I
I can't imagine what the neighbors thought I was doing, but it didn't matter to me, just as it doesn't matter to me what the average other driver on the road thinks when they spy me wailing away in my own little world. To me this is heaven. Sorry,
gotta go,
now playing....
Kickstart My Heart!!
=)
Friday, February 17, 2012
There's always a knock at the door.
Two days this week I woke up and my first thought was about dying. Unfortunately for me, this is an underlying enemy in my everyday life, the idea I will die. As we all know... it's inevitable. I cannot change the outcome. We're born. We live. We die. There are those who believe there is life after death. There are those who believe there is nothing else. When I became old enough to understand the cycle of life thing, the burning question was... why? WHY? Why be born at all if that is the end result? I was never the same.
When I made friends with that nice guardrail last November, it was never so clear that I risk my life daily just waking up. I've had a strange feeling in me that I just haven't been able to calm. I had an absolutely frightening, in my face, introduction to the idea that someday I won't be here. Funny as that sounds~ as if I were just going to jump in my car and you wouldn't see me for a while but I'd be back, oh no! I won't be here. Gone. Forever. Period. Believe me, the idea of death scares me. I'm sure it does everyone, but I am so afraid I haven't done what I'm meant to do in this life (or have I done it already and don't know??) or what I think I really want to do... which is... what.. exactly?
Still.... there is a yearning. And the death theme keeps looming...
Whitney Houston. It's taken me a few days to soak it in. Oh, I've heard all the things the media has said someone else was quoted as saying. She was an angel. She was an addict. She was beautiful. She was a wreck. She had talent. BIG talent. I was mesmerized by her voice. So clear and crisp. She sang with such sweet grace. Yet for all her success, she was an addict. All that beauty, and she looked in the mirror and an addict looked back. And she was an addict for a very long time. I don't know all the details, but she rode a roller coaster ride of drugs and disfunction. Only she had money and fame to do what ever it was she was doing. Money doesn't save you. Fame doesn't save you. And now... dead at 48. Did she accomplish whatever it was she was supposed to do before leaving this life? Is her death just another wake up call for me?
I don't have fame. I don't have money. I'm not an addict. Well at least not a drug addict. (I have other vises that could be considered addictions. But we'll leave that for another post.) I will not do anything that will touch as many humans as the sound of Whitney's voice. So of the few hundred people who did, who do and have yet to know me, will I make much of a difference?
Whitney left behind, not only a child, but a legacy of music. My own ride from cradle to grave.. just what will my defining legacy be? Of course my bloodline will continue as I have kids and grankids, but is there something more? I can't stop my death, I can't even prolong it. My last breath will be just that. The last. I find myself on the razors edge. On the verge, as something keeps pulling at me from all sides. Is it just life trying to get out?
When I made friends with that nice guardrail last November, it was never so clear that I risk my life daily just waking up. I've had a strange feeling in me that I just haven't been able to calm. I had an absolutely frightening, in my face, introduction to the idea that someday I won't be here. Funny as that sounds~ as if I were just going to jump in my car and you wouldn't see me for a while but I'd be back, oh no! I won't be here. Gone. Forever. Period. Believe me, the idea of death scares me. I'm sure it does everyone, but I am so afraid I haven't done what I'm meant to do in this life (or have I done it already and don't know??) or what I think I really want to do... which is... what.. exactly?
Still.... there is a yearning. And the death theme keeps looming...
Whitney Houston. It's taken me a few days to soak it in. Oh, I've heard all the things the media has said someone else was quoted as saying. She was an angel. She was an addict. She was beautiful. She was a wreck. She had talent. BIG talent. I was mesmerized by her voice. So clear and crisp. She sang with such sweet grace. Yet for all her success, she was an addict. All that beauty, and she looked in the mirror and an addict looked back. And she was an addict for a very long time. I don't know all the details, but she rode a roller coaster ride of drugs and disfunction. Only she had money and fame to do what ever it was she was doing. Money doesn't save you. Fame doesn't save you. And now... dead at 48. Did she accomplish whatever it was she was supposed to do before leaving this life? Is her death just another wake up call for me?
I don't have fame. I don't have money. I'm not an addict. Well at least not a drug addict. (I have other vises that could be considered addictions. But we'll leave that for another post.) I will not do anything that will touch as many humans as the sound of Whitney's voice. So of the few hundred people who did, who do and have yet to know me, will I make much of a difference?
Whitney left behind, not only a child, but a legacy of music. My own ride from cradle to grave.. just what will my defining legacy be? Of course my bloodline will continue as I have kids and grankids, but is there something more? I can't stop my death, I can't even prolong it. My last breath will be just that. The last. I find myself on the razors edge. On the verge, as something keeps pulling at me from all sides. Is it just life trying to get out?
Saturday, February 4, 2012
How fast was that again?
30 years.
That block of time went by in the 'blink of an eye'. Stupid saying, but so true. Defined by my daughter Shelby, my 'Booboo', as I loving refer to her, who was born Feb 11, 1982. As her 30th birthday approaches I am so overwhelmed by thoughts of her. Her actual birth day was such a surprise! I had returned to Minneapolis just a few days earlier from a trip to St.Louis. A St.Louis baby shower!! It had been stressful not because I had flown, but because the day I was to board my plane and leave St.Louis, there was a blizzard and I couldn't even get off my Mom's street to make it to the airport!! The entire midwest was covered with record snowfalls.. most types of transportation were near stand still conditions! But it was just a one day inconvenience as St.Louis plowed through the mess and got the city going again the following day.
Not due until March 21st, my little sweetie decided she was ready to make her entrance... (so like her mother, with that unfortunate personality flaw - does not like waiting!!) And the next thing I knew I was holding this tiny little creature, all 5 pounds and 1/2 ounce of her.
If you had asked me, (well you didn't even have to ask me as I voiced my opinion quite loudly on the subject!!) I would have told you that I didn't want to have children. I was a very selfish entity that could only think about the immediate needs of ME. In fact, at 25, I still had growing up issues! My mind never wrapped itself around the idea of being a parent. I had even said many times that if I were to get pregnant, then I would take means necessary to change that status.
One day, after a few days of not feeling well, my best friend brought me a pregnancy test! No! Not possible!! But the damn thing said yes. Ok. Here I am. After all the bragging of what I would do if.... I now find myself at that crossroad. But, something inside... something inside.. I agonized over it, I changed my outlook on things and I stepped into a different world. The world of Motherhood. ugh. Even the sound of it. This is going to be so hard. What was I thinking??
As any woman can tell you having a first child is extremely frightening and extremely exciting!! There is nothing like it to explain the mixed emotions. The body changes... the belly... the mood swings... it was wonderfully distressing! I don't know if I would have been more prepared mentally for her arrival if it had been closer to the 'supposed' due date. The fact she busted out early was soooo my life!! When they placed this so very small bundle in my arms... my heart screamed bring it on!! I have so many stories about my little sweetie. So many cool things that only her and I share. The unconventional upbringing she has had shaped her into the loving, caring mother of three she has become. She is someone who taught me about myself in her innocence and teaches me to this day.
30 years.
It went by in a blink of an eye...
That block of time went by in the 'blink of an eye'. Stupid saying, but so true. Defined by my daughter Shelby, my 'Booboo', as I loving refer to her, who was born Feb 11, 1982. As her 30th birthday approaches I am so overwhelmed by thoughts of her. Her actual birth day was such a surprise! I had returned to Minneapolis just a few days earlier from a trip to St.Louis. A St.Louis baby shower!! It had been stressful not because I had flown, but because the day I was to board my plane and leave St.Louis, there was a blizzard and I couldn't even get off my Mom's street to make it to the airport!! The entire midwest was covered with record snowfalls.. most types of transportation were near stand still conditions! But it was just a one day inconvenience as St.Louis plowed through the mess and got the city going again the following day.
Not due until March 21st, my little sweetie decided she was ready to make her entrance... (so like her mother, with that unfortunate personality flaw - does not like waiting!!) And the next thing I knew I was holding this tiny little creature, all 5 pounds and 1/2 ounce of her.
If you had asked me, (well you didn't even have to ask me as I voiced my opinion quite loudly on the subject!!) I would have told you that I didn't want to have children. I was a very selfish entity that could only think about the immediate needs of ME. In fact, at 25, I still had growing up issues! My mind never wrapped itself around the idea of being a parent. I had even said many times that if I were to get pregnant, then I would take means necessary to change that status.
One day, after a few days of not feeling well, my best friend brought me a pregnancy test! No! Not possible!! But the damn thing said yes. Ok. Here I am. After all the bragging of what I would do if.... I now find myself at that crossroad. But, something inside... something inside.. I agonized over it, I changed my outlook on things and I stepped into a different world. The world of Motherhood. ugh. Even the sound of it. This is going to be so hard. What was I thinking??
As any woman can tell you having a first child is extremely frightening and extremely exciting!! There is nothing like it to explain the mixed emotions. The body changes... the belly... the mood swings... it was wonderfully distressing! I don't know if I would have been more prepared mentally for her arrival if it had been closer to the 'supposed' due date. The fact she busted out early was soooo my life!! When they placed this so very small bundle in my arms... my heart screamed bring it on!! I have so many stories about my little sweetie. So many cool things that only her and I share. The unconventional upbringing she has had shaped her into the loving, caring mother of three she has become. She is someone who taught me about myself in her innocence and teaches me to this day.
It went by in a blink of an eye...
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Lemming? Don't think so.
I was talking to my close friend about my newfound blogging career. The ins, the outs, the ups and downs. What I took away from that conversation was that - in everything I might possibly write about, I should keep it honest and real. My dilemma with this is - that of all those who know me.... they really don't! Can I write so honestly that of those who know me well, will they be shocked? Will they judge me differently? There is so much about me that is unknown to most. It's funny because I liken this thought to a funeral and those who knew the deceased are amazed because each one brought something new to light that the others hadn't known about! Which goes to show that we humans are indeed multi-faceted creatures!
How do I let others know me when I'm still figuring out who the hell I am?? I've been trying to find the right word to describe me and the word that's foremost in my mind is..... Unconventional. Yep! That's it... oh there are so many other words I wish I could use, but that one.... well it calls to me.
I wasn't a conventional kid. I wasn't a conventional teenager. I wasn't a conventional girlfriend or wife. I wasn't even a conventional mother. In fact, I don't think I am conventional now in any sense. This could be the reason behind my never feeling as if I fit in anywhere. I am the oldest of three children. As a kids, my sister got along great with my Dad and my little brother was Mom's favorite. I grew up wondering why I had been born, why had I been born a girl. It just wasn't fair. I say that because in this time I am referring, men had most of the advantages, women were so restricted! (Just want to clarify... no resemblance to Chaz Bono!!) I was given a name I did not like. I was never comfortable with myself. I wanted to run with the boys, which I did. Not in the giddy girl sense... but because I was a tomboy. I played baseball. I wasn't afraid of bugs or animals or getting dirty. I rode my bike as fast and as hard as any kid on my block!
Most of my bravado was born of insecurity. Then and sometimes now. I wanted so much to fit in that I did many things that weren't good for me. I had a rebellious streak that kept me in trouble most of the time. As a kid I argued and butted heads with my Dad. I must have driven him crazy. I think sometimes of the crap I've gone through with my own kids and I know I must have had him scratching his head. Poor man. In those years right before he died, we had gotten on the same page about something when I had my first child. Finally friends. I don't know if he ever knew how I sorry I am for putting him through the wringer.
I was raised in the idea that girls were designed for one reason - to marry, have kids, cook and clean... the whole 1950's vibe of the stay at home woman. NO! Not me!! I don't want those things.. I don't want to settle down!! I don't want kids!! I want the freedom to do whatever I want to do. Go where ever I want to go. I want this without having to ask permission from anyone. No one is going to tell me what to do! All the screaming and fussing with my Dad - I did everything I could to show him he couldn't best me. I was spanked, I was whipped, I was exiled to my room. I was grounded, I wasn't allowed to do fun things I should have been doing. I had everything that was important to me taken away. But it didn't matter... he couldn't take my thoughts, or my dreams. I spent a lot of time thinking of the moment I would grow up! and be an adult! and not have to answer to anyone! What. a. dumbass.
I spent a lot of time looking for acceptance. What little I did manage to find was fleeting. Because instead of looking within me, I was looking for it in others. Validating myself by what others thought of me. My first drug experience was in high school, a boy who liked me spiked my chocolate shake with mesculine (a hallucinogenic) without my knowing. I was expelled for 4 months, he was expelled forever. When I returned, no one treated me the same because now I was considered a 'druggie'. I quit one month after returning. Soon after I found myself caught up with people I barely knew and trying all different drugs. I took things based on someone holding it out and saying... "it won't hurt you, try it!" I began a downward spiral of relationships with boys and then men who weren't right. Those bad boys that girls love so much... I wanted them. I wasn't much of a threat either because I was 'one of them'. I was able to distract them long enough to bed me because of my eagerness to please. I went from one relationship to another, searching but not finding, that elusive feeling that I was someone. I didn't realize that I would never find it in another. I didn't realize that for a very long time.
Looking back, I am surprised I am alive. I pushed my personal envelope soooo far. Yet. I still live. I still am. Wonder why?
How do I let others know me when I'm still figuring out who the hell I am?? I've been trying to find the right word to describe me and the word that's foremost in my mind is..... Unconventional. Yep! That's it... oh there are so many other words I wish I could use, but that one.... well it calls to me.
I wasn't a conventional kid. I wasn't a conventional teenager. I wasn't a conventional girlfriend or wife. I wasn't even a conventional mother. In fact, I don't think I am conventional now in any sense. This could be the reason behind my never feeling as if I fit in anywhere. I am the oldest of three children. As a kids, my sister got along great with my Dad and my little brother was Mom's favorite. I grew up wondering why I had been born, why had I been born a girl. It just wasn't fair. I say that because in this time I am referring, men had most of the advantages, women were so restricted! (Just want to clarify... no resemblance to Chaz Bono!!) I was given a name I did not like. I was never comfortable with myself. I wanted to run with the boys, which I did. Not in the giddy girl sense... but because I was a tomboy. I played baseball. I wasn't afraid of bugs or animals or getting dirty. I rode my bike as fast and as hard as any kid on my block!
Most of my bravado was born of insecurity. Then and sometimes now. I wanted so much to fit in that I did many things that weren't good for me. I had a rebellious streak that kept me in trouble most of the time. As a kid I argued and butted heads with my Dad. I must have driven him crazy. I think sometimes of the crap I've gone through with my own kids and I know I must have had him scratching his head. Poor man. In those years right before he died, we had gotten on the same page about something when I had my first child. Finally friends. I don't know if he ever knew how I sorry I am for putting him through the wringer.
I was raised in the idea that girls were designed for one reason - to marry, have kids, cook and clean... the whole 1950's vibe of the stay at home woman. NO! Not me!! I don't want those things.. I don't want to settle down!! I don't want kids!! I want the freedom to do whatever I want to do. Go where ever I want to go. I want this without having to ask permission from anyone. No one is going to tell me what to do! All the screaming and fussing with my Dad - I did everything I could to show him he couldn't best me. I was spanked, I was whipped, I was exiled to my room. I was grounded, I wasn't allowed to do fun things I should have been doing. I had everything that was important to me taken away. But it didn't matter... he couldn't take my thoughts, or my dreams. I spent a lot of time thinking of the moment I would grow up! and be an adult! and not have to answer to anyone! What. a. dumbass.
I spent a lot of time looking for acceptance. What little I did manage to find was fleeting. Because instead of looking within me, I was looking for it in others. Validating myself by what others thought of me. My first drug experience was in high school, a boy who liked me spiked my chocolate shake with mesculine (a hallucinogenic) without my knowing. I was expelled for 4 months, he was expelled forever. When I returned, no one treated me the same because now I was considered a 'druggie'. I quit one month after returning. Soon after I found myself caught up with people I barely knew and trying all different drugs. I took things based on someone holding it out and saying... "it won't hurt you, try it!" I began a downward spiral of relationships with boys and then men who weren't right. Those bad boys that girls love so much... I wanted them. I wasn't much of a threat either because I was 'one of them'. I was able to distract them long enough to bed me because of my eagerness to please. I went from one relationship to another, searching but not finding, that elusive feeling that I was someone. I didn't realize that I would never find it in another. I didn't realize that for a very long time.
Looking back, I am surprised I am alive. I pushed my personal envelope soooo far. Yet. I still live. I still am. Wonder why?
Saturday, January 21, 2012
An Unexpected Afternoon Escape
As I grow older I realize I envy the young. Oh how I long for those lost lazy days of being a kid with nothing to do and not much to worry about. Except how I look, does that boy I like even know I'm alive, will I ever be ungrounded (!!), will I get a good grade on that paper I wrote... you know - the important stuff!! Haha!! Those were the days when I dreamed of being older! How could I know that at the same time most adults were dreaming of being younger?? What a cruel twist of fate!!
I was recently transported back in time. Complete with all the adolescent feelings I had long forgotten. When I was in grade school, there was a reading program that once every so often the teacher would pass out an order sheet for easy read books. I have always had a love for horses. I would do extra chores at home, or go on a hunt for bottles to return to the store for deposit money, just to make that little bit to buy every one that involved a horse. I gobbled up those books like a hungry animal and would read those that grabbed my heart over and over. Gentle Like a Cyclone, The Blind Colt, The Red Pony, Black Beauty and of course National Velvet. Books were my escapism from a childhood that I was not very happy in. To be involved in the storyline was easy and away I would go, on one adventure after another.
I found myself in town recently with an unexpected couple of hours on my hands. I was angry at first, as now I am stuck, what to do?? Drive home only to turn around and drive back to town? (For those of you who don't know - I live 35 miles from my job, and that's driving through town!! Which means at least 45 to 50 minutes one way!) It's the middle of the day, everyone I know is at work.. ugh now what?? So on a whim I thought, 'go to a movie!' Well I checked a couple of theaters and not too many movies starting at that time except one... War Horse. I had seen the trailers for this movie, it looked interesting but not something I thought I just had to see. What the hell. It was now 2:10 pm, movie starts at 2:30 pm across town... could I make it? I could miss the first few minutes I suppose, although I HATE that, because you might miss an important moment that effects the rest of the movie. Whatever... I got in the hoopty and away I flew!
I paid for my ticket, stopped at the concession stand, (after all what's a movie without buttered popcorn and a handful of napkins!?!?) then proceeded to the door marked War Horse. I opened the door to total darkness... ever so slowly made my way to a seat and sat down. To my surprise another preview began and I realize I made it in time to catch the entire movie!! Awesome!
Within minutes of the movie beginning I was caught up! As it progressed I became the young girl I use to be, transported back to my room, laying on my bed with my nose buried deep in a book. In my mind I am in the story, living the life that's printed on the pages in my hands. The beauty of the horse appealed to me like no other animal. Each horse as individual as the story written about it. Back in the theater, as the story unfolded on that big screen, all those old emotions were as vivid to me as they were back then ... anger at this, joy at that, and (thankful for that handful of napkins) crying at the sadness of another part.
The movie ended, the lights slowly returning and I just sat there. Surprised to find myself at a crossroads such as this. Elated that I enjoyed such a great movie. But at the same time a sad sense of melancholy, at lost youth and at lost innocence.
I was recently transported back in time. Complete with all the adolescent feelings I had long forgotten. When I was in grade school, there was a reading program that once every so often the teacher would pass out an order sheet for easy read books. I have always had a love for horses. I would do extra chores at home, or go on a hunt for bottles to return to the store for deposit money, just to make that little bit to buy every one that involved a horse. I gobbled up those books like a hungry animal and would read those that grabbed my heart over and over. Gentle Like a Cyclone, The Blind Colt, The Red Pony, Black Beauty and of course National Velvet. Books were my escapism from a childhood that I was not very happy in. To be involved in the storyline was easy and away I would go, on one adventure after another.
I found myself in town recently with an unexpected couple of hours on my hands. I was angry at first, as now I am stuck, what to do?? Drive home only to turn around and drive back to town? (For those of you who don't know - I live 35 miles from my job, and that's driving through town!! Which means at least 45 to 50 minutes one way!) It's the middle of the day, everyone I know is at work.. ugh now what?? So on a whim I thought, 'go to a movie!' Well I checked a couple of theaters and not too many movies starting at that time except one... War Horse. I had seen the trailers for this movie, it looked interesting but not something I thought I just had to see. What the hell. It was now 2:10 pm, movie starts at 2:30 pm across town... could I make it? I could miss the first few minutes I suppose, although I HATE that, because you might miss an important moment that effects the rest of the movie. Whatever... I got in the hoopty and away I flew!
I paid for my ticket, stopped at the concession stand, (after all what's a movie without buttered popcorn and a handful of napkins!?!?) then proceeded to the door marked War Horse. I opened the door to total darkness... ever so slowly made my way to a seat and sat down. To my surprise another preview began and I realize I made it in time to catch the entire movie!! Awesome!
Within minutes of the movie beginning I was caught up! As it progressed I became the young girl I use to be, transported back to my room, laying on my bed with my nose buried deep in a book. In my mind I am in the story, living the life that's printed on the pages in my hands. The beauty of the horse appealed to me like no other animal. Each horse as individual as the story written about it. Back in the theater, as the story unfolded on that big screen, all those old emotions were as vivid to me as they were back then ... anger at this, joy at that, and (thankful for that handful of napkins) crying at the sadness of another part.
The movie ended, the lights slowly returning and I just sat there. Surprised to find myself at a crossroads such as this. Elated that I enjoyed such a great movie. But at the same time a sad sense of melancholy, at lost youth and at lost innocence.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Time to Accessorize
Style. We all have our own. Each feeling comfortable with our special quirk. I've always admired those who can rock the latest trends. And in each decade I've lived, I have seen some interesting trends!! Even went through a few myself! (Hip hugger jeans in the 70's!! Leg warmers in the 80's!!)
But personal style in nothing without accessories. Hats, earrings, handbags, belts, shoes, boots... the list is endless. Each of us has that one item that once we've got it on, the attitude changes and we walk a little taller! I've never been much of a clothes horse, I am the most comfortable in jeans, t-shirt and a great pair of broken-in Reeboks. It's my accessory that makes me.
I have one friend with a bracelet fetish, another a collector of handbags, and one who loves boots. But me? My favorite accessory? My car. Yep, I said it. My car. There is nothing like it. Climbing behind the wheel, adjusting every thing just so... pushing the clutch pedal in, gliding the shifter into 1st gear, aahhh... for me, that's heaven. I just love to drive. Let me say that again... I just love to drive!!
I have always had a thing for cars. Every car I've owned in my driving career, no matter what shape the poor thing was in, I tried to fix, cover, or disguise.. I'd wash, wax and shine to make it look it's best. Once that was achieved, I'd sit a little taller, my disposition more self assured and I'd feel fantastic!!
Oh, I've felt the sting of finding one of my favorite sweaters in the dryer - now 3 sizes smaller than me! Another sting of one missing (and still lost!) diamond earring! The loss of that favorite item, whatever it may be, is painful. (Damn! I looked great in that!!) Oh... Ouch!! Stung again!! Only this time it's my FAVORITE accessory!!
A few days before Thanksgiving, on my way to work in the pouring rain, I caught a patch of standing water in the road and it spun my little blue car around in circles and then crashed into the guard rail. Many blessings were counted - I was not hurt - no other cars or people involved - no property damaged. Whew!! Poor little thing took a hard hit though and has been parked in our driveway since, awaiting judgement as to whether or not it can be fixed. Another blessing is that I do own another vehicle, so I was not without a car. Things changed though... car #2 is now down for the count. Fixable? Yes, but very, very costly.
I am now driving one of Del's cars. I am not complaining, as it is a way to get from point A to point B. It's just that I am not myself in this vehicle. It's a hoopty. Just typing that word depresses me. A black car with a white hood and one white fender. Ok, imagine that beautiful leather coat you love to wear, because it just wears you so well. It's gone. Now imagine another black coat but someone has ripped the collar and one sleeve off of it and replaced it with dirty white corduroy... are you with me? Let's just say... I DON'T WANNAWEAR THIS COAT DRIVE THIS CAR!!!
Umm, sorry, but it goes beyond just looking hoopty! To get out of said vehicle, you have to roll the window down to open door from outside as it has no inside door handle. When it rains it drips on your left leg. The dashboard has a huge void where a radio once resided. Now a big gaping hole with wires dangling. (Anyone who knows me knows that music is a BIG DEAL with me..... smh). But the kicker of this hoopty (as if these few things were not enough) is I must lift the hood and touch a wire to the positive post on the battery to start it!!!! Arrggg!!! Really??
I am not, in any way, under valuing the fact that I have a car to drive. I realize there are many that do not have the luxury of having multiple cars to use. For this I am very grateful. But my vanity is suffering!!
Ok, I've come to the conclusion it is time for a new coat... er, car. Not necessarily a new one... just one that is new to me. The hunt has begun. It's sorta like contemplating a new hair style. Hmm.. wonder what the future has in store?
But personal style in nothing without accessories. Hats, earrings, handbags, belts, shoes, boots... the list is endless. Each of us has that one item that once we've got it on, the attitude changes and we walk a little taller! I've never been much of a clothes horse, I am the most comfortable in jeans, t-shirt and a great pair of broken-in Reeboks. It's my accessory that makes me.
I have one friend with a bracelet fetish, another a collector of handbags, and one who loves boots. But me? My favorite accessory? My car. Yep, I said it. My car. There is nothing like it. Climbing behind the wheel, adjusting every thing just so... pushing the clutch pedal in, gliding the shifter into 1st gear, aahhh... for me, that's heaven. I just love to drive. Let me say that again... I just love to drive!!
I have always had a thing for cars. Every car I've owned in my driving career, no matter what shape the poor thing was in, I tried to fix, cover, or disguise.. I'd wash, wax and shine to make it look it's best. Once that was achieved, I'd sit a little taller, my disposition more self assured and I'd feel fantastic!!
Oh, I've felt the sting of finding one of my favorite sweaters in the dryer - now 3 sizes smaller than me! Another sting of one missing (and still lost!) diamond earring! The loss of that favorite item, whatever it may be, is painful. (Damn! I looked great in that!!) Oh... Ouch!! Stung again!! Only this time it's my FAVORITE accessory!!
A few days before Thanksgiving, on my way to work in the pouring rain, I caught a patch of standing water in the road and it spun my little blue car around in circles and then crashed into the guard rail. Many blessings were counted - I was not hurt - no other cars or people involved - no property damaged. Whew!! Poor little thing took a hard hit though and has been parked in our driveway since, awaiting judgement as to whether or not it can be fixed. Another blessing is that I do own another vehicle, so I was not without a car. Things changed though... car #2 is now down for the count. Fixable? Yes, but very, very costly.
I am now driving one of Del's cars. I am not complaining, as it is a way to get from point A to point B. It's just that I am not myself in this vehicle. It's a hoopty. Just typing that word depresses me. A black car with a white hood and one white fender. Ok, imagine that beautiful leather coat you love to wear, because it just wears you so well. It's gone. Now imagine another black coat but someone has ripped the collar and one sleeve off of it and replaced it with dirty white corduroy... are you with me? Let's just say... I DON'T WANNA
Umm, sorry, but it goes beyond just looking hoopty! To get out of said vehicle, you have to roll the window down to open door from outside as it has no inside door handle. When it rains it drips on your left leg. The dashboard has a huge void where a radio once resided. Now a big gaping hole with wires dangling. (Anyone who knows me knows that music is a BIG DEAL with me..... smh). But the kicker of this hoopty (as if these few things were not enough) is I must lift the hood and touch a wire to the positive post on the battery to start it!!!! Arrggg!!! Really??
I am not, in any way, under valuing the fact that I have a car to drive. I realize there are many that do not have the luxury of having multiple cars to use. For this I am very grateful. But my vanity is suffering!!
Ok, I've come to the conclusion it is time for a new coat... er, car. Not necessarily a new one... just one that is new to me. The hunt has begun. It's sorta like contemplating a new hair style. Hmm.. wonder what the future has in store?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)