Crooked Flight

I'm at a loss for words today but I will be working on some personal, more private writing in my free time.  This is a poem I wrote awhile back so I thought I'd share. Thanks for reading.

Crooked Flight

What do I fear I will find

Should I press pen to paper

And let create within my mind

The visions of everything it is I want

And then some

The visions that are just a fingertip away

Scraping each direction

Threatening to disappear

With each breath, each motion

I take during each day

I run so far so far

Not wanting to have to stay

Stuck here in the moment

Of monotony and boredom

Stuck within the fear that prevents

Me from finding that something missing

What I’ve searched for

For so long

I don’t want to live the lie

Of lifeless dreams

Trapped beneath my bones,

Wrapped tightly around my neck

Suffocating me with thoughts

Of failing.

Thoughts of being translucent

And unable to express

The need to be free

To fly

Like a bird with a broken wing

Crooked, yet determined

And drifting against the wind

To find the destination of her dreams

People Are People

Good morning. So today is one of those days that I feel I have absolutely nothing to write about. But alas, I have promised to write something every day so here it goes.
I woke up this morning with a Depeche Mode song stuck in my head so I'm already annoyed. I wouldn't mind except for the fact that one of my ex-boyfriends loved this band and they always make me think of him. I am truly over all of the crap he put me through and have moved on completely....but I still don't enjoy remembering him in any sort of way.
I'm feeling a bit scatter brained this morning. Sometimes it seems like my mind won't shut off completely. This does not help in getting a good nights sleep. I woke up with said song in my head, then began to wonder what the last episode of Orphan Black in season 1 will reveal. Then my brain went to whether or not I should go ahead and just buy season 2 because it's on sale on Amazon right now but this made me feel guilty because I now have all of these extra hospital bills to pay and if I spend money on fun things instead of being responsible, it doesn't help my cause in trying to pay everything off. I then tried to make myself feel better in reminding myself that I have paid off 4 different credit cards since January so I deserve a little treat. But I've used this excuse several times alone this year, which then made me think of how much money I could have put towards another credit card if I hadn't joined the Disney Movie Club. But it's a great bargain and I've actually saved money and earned points towards free movies so there's that.
My stomach is also very unhappy with me this morning. We ate mexican food for lunch yesterday which always sounds like a good idea at the time but then I pay for it later. Plus, I'm not convinced that the beans do not have lard in them even though they specifically have told me several times that they do not. I've been a vegetarian for 15 years and haven't purposefully eaten meat since  then so I imagine if the beans did indeed have lard in them, my belly would be much more upset than it is right now because it's not used to such protein in it's system. I say purposefully because there was the time several years ago when the waitress told me there was no meat in the spaghetti sauce and then I found some after taking a few bites and she laughed it off like it was no big deal. Bitch.
And one time I got sausage in my hair.
Anyway, I have to go to work now so I'm going to just abruptly end this post of randomness. Thanks for reading and hopefully I'll have something more concrete to share tomorrow.

Que Sera Sera

It's a rainy kind of Sunday. The pets are fed and they're all taking their morning naps. The laundry is sorted and the first load into the wash. No plans, just an small idea of what the day is to bring.
It's my favorite kind of day.
We could get in the car and head west, close our eyes and pretend we're driving along the 101, listening to the West Coast greet us in good morning. We could adorn our raincoats and rain boots, take the Leira Dog for a walk or simply hike a short trail along the parkway. We could sit on our screened in porch, kitty in each of our laps, listening to the rain and the phenomenon that is Pandora, reading a good book or two. 
I could paint, possibly discovering that I have a gift in an art I never knew existed for me. I could hop on my bike and ride up and down the hills in our neighborhood, pretending to be a child again. I could head to the fresh market and buy arm loads of fresh bread and fruit.I could do yoga and breathe in the sent of the rain on this cloudy, beautiful day. I could build a fort with couch pillows and watch Classic Doctor Who episodes. I could drink tea and eat biscuits, dressed up like Mary or Sybil from Downton Abbey. I could make a pie.
I could write my Pulitzer Prize novel today.
Anything could happen. The newness and freshness of waking up without a plan of what to do can be so invigorating. Even though I know there are other things to be done. The house needs a good cleaning. The bills need to be sorted. The groceries need to be listed and bought. Leira dog needs to be bathed. The kitties need their nails trimmed and litterboxes freshly scooped. Our Disney trip coming up needs to be planned. We need toilet paper and razors, so a Target trip is in order.
But I choose to be in control of today. I will not let the burden of errands and responsibility cloud the happiness and childlike quality a day like today can bring. Too often, I let the confines of the world and how we're supposed to live our adult lives take over and prevent me from doing the things I love and enjoy. Too often, I let the guilt of not doing something productive get in the way of doing something fun. If we could all live like Mary Poppins, the world just might be a better place.
But it's so easy to get caught up in to do lists and life in general so we miss out on so many good opportunities. Perhaps, we even do this without realizing. They may be small and seemingly unimportant, but it truly is the small things that bring along the joy that we so often crave. Why is it so easy to put off the things we enjoy? Why can't we just take one day to put aside everything else and simply live?
I choose to be in control of this day. I choose to take a stand against the norm and live it out to it's fullest, doing whatever it is I feel like doing. 
So I'm excited for this new day and for the openness and surprise waiting around the corner. I feel goodness coming my way and I'm looking forward to taking in each moment with full acceptance and open arms.

'Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be
Que Sera, Sera' 
-Doris Day

To Write

When I was younger, I wrote every day.
I was probably 6 years old and I had this green composition notebook that I carried around with me all of the time. I mainly wrote short stories, mostly about cats.
When I got a little bit older, I was a bit more private and started keeping a diary. Each day, I would write about everything that happened to me from the moment I got up to the moment I went to bed and put pen to paper to write about it.
Then high school hit and thus the bad poetry began. Maybe not all bad, but the subject matter was always the same. The name might have changed. The words however did not. (This sadly carried over into my 20's).
I always did well in English and I've always enjoyed writing about everything. I used to have all of these ideas for short stories, novels, poetry, ect. I couldn't get the words written onto paper quickly enough.
Now, it's a bit of a struggle.
I don't seem to have the imagination I once harbored. The language of writing suddenly seems all jumbled up in my head and my mind is screaming to let them out.
When I I decided to write this memoir, what 3 or 4 years ago?, I was excited and thrilled to have a project to focus on. But suddenly, something had changed inside of me. I have all of these events and moments in my life that I wish to share with the world but I'm still a very private person and I suddenly became super vulnerable. I held back, still do, and I'm finding it hard to let go and simply write.
I started thinking on this the other day, wondering what exactly had changed when I realized it was my audience. I've always had the power to choose who did or didn't read my thoughts. Then I started blogging and my words were no longer safe in the confines of my little green composition notebook. 
They were out there naked for the world to see.
I didn't realize that I was doing it, but I started leaving out details and editing out facts, because this is me. This is my life but it's intertwined with others. I began to worry about opening wounds or creating new ones. I began to stress about what people might think of me.
I became mute without even recognizing it.
So here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to start writing for me again. Every day. It might just be a few short sentences or a whole page of nothingness, but I need to start somewhere. My story is aching to be heard and I truly do want others to hear it. I can't let the critics in the world or in my mind allow me to fail.
I have a heart and soul to share through my words and I choose to share them.
Starting today.

Life Happens

I just got out of the hospital about a week ago- nothing too serious but scary enough to make me wake up a little bit more. I've always been a healthy person so whenever I am feeling poorly, I don't tend to make the best patient. I don't like for anyone to wait on me hand and foot and I've never been one to readily ask for help should I need it.
This time, I needed it.
I'm still not convinced this doesn't show a sign of weakness though I will say, even when I was hunched over in the backseat after puking for the 9th time that day, I was still able to laugh about it. Someone (I forget who) happened to mention that there was a rainbow hovering over the mountain tops and without missing a beat, I proclaimed, "Awe. It must be there to welcome me into Heaven".
Funny, right? I thought so, but my husband and parents did not seem too amused at the time. (Minutes later I was puking in a plastic bag in the lobby of the ER, wishing someone would just knock me out already.)
This whole episode was a nice reminder of how marriage works, or should work. Andrew stepped up and took the whole 'in sickness and in health' completely seriously. I never doubted that he would do this, but I also never imagined him holding my IV bag while I peed in a cup, asking him kindly not to look at my backside reflection in the mirror while doing so.
Modesty has always been a strong trait in my personality.
But seriously, he was wonderful. He helped me go to the bathroom multiple times. We even had a routine. I would wake up mumbling that I had to pee (again) and he would stumble out of the nice recliner the hospital provides for family staying over (i.e. tiny chair that he often got stuck in and often woke up in pain due to the position he happened to fall asleep in), told me to sit up slowly, walked to the bathroom to prepare the toilet paper (because the dispenser was cruel and often mocked my weakness and inability to tear off more than half a square at a time), grabbed my hand and IV pole and scooted me to the bathroom as gracefully as possible.
Andrew and I have always had a special sort of language. We often find ourselves having a conversation in front of people, completely forgetting that they are there and then realizing that they are staring at us, trying to figure out what it is exactly we're talking about. Through the years, we have broadened this language into simply sharing a look towards one another and knowing exactly what the other is thinking. There were times in the hospital when I would be in so much pain, trying to mask it from everyone else in the room and all I had to do was look at him and he knew.
He always knows.
This whole episode got me thinking about life in general and how I have been living mine from day to day, just trying to get through the work week so that I can enjoy my day(s) off as they come to me. I waste so much time thinking and worrying about all of the 'stuff' I need to do and accomplish, pushing more important things onto the back burner, claiming I'll get to them when I can.
I seem to be waiting around a lot.
Waiting for my next day off so that I can clean/run errands/watch Netflix. Waiting to be able to apply for insurance again. (No, we don't have insurance so please kindly wipe that judgmental look off of your face). Waiting for our next vacation. Waiting for the right 'time' to have a baby. Waiting for that next paycheck so that I can apply a larger payment to another credit card in order to pay it off completely, turn around and apply the same payment in 2 weeks to yet another credit card. Waiting to own a home because we don't even know where we will be in the next 6 months to a year. Waiting for approval.
There is a lot of waiting in my world and it's starting to slowly suck me dry. Patience has never been a strong suit in me and though I try to take each challenge one step at a time, I often get overwhelmed and try to take everything on all at once, get discouraged and simply feel like giving up until I get another outburst of energy to try again.
It's exhausting.
And it's not easy to come up with the right solution. I don't know how to approach certain areas in my life. I worry too much about the outcome when in all reality, I know deep down I can't control others reactions or feelings towards any given thing. The last thing I ever want to do is cause someone else pain.  When it used to be just me hanging out on the sidelines waiting, I seemed to be more OK with this philosophy. But now that Andrew is here beside me, it's affecting him too.
And it's affecting us.
No one seems to put this into account or maybe we haven't really given them the chance to because we're too worried about hurting them and not really focusing on the fact that we are unintentionally hurting each other.
It really does feel like it's just him and me and I truly am OK with that. I feel like this is what marriage should be. Yes, we have our own sets of friends and tons of family who we love and adore, but at the end of the day, he is the only person whom I feel truly gets and understands me.
I don't want to keep waiting around to begin my life with him.
And I don't want to keep on living from day to day without having some sort of idea or plan as to what the next step in our journey should be. We shouldn't have to mask our hopes and dreams and I'm not even sure why exactly we feel we have to. But we do just the same.
And it's not helping anybody.
I've always been a dreamer. It's pretty typical of me to take the road less traveled. I may get lost along the way but I always find myself in the end.  And now, Andrew and I have each other to take care of and no matter how little or far we may stray at times, we always come back to meet again in the middle.
It might not seem like it, but we do have a plan. And it's ours and ours alone.
I know we always have each others backs. He never left my side when the poor nurse was trying to get an IV catheter in me multiple times, failing until the blessed third because I was so dehydrated. And I knew he was being protective of me without even looking at him. He helped my morphine doped up self answer the billions of questions asked over and over again by each person who entered the room. He made phone calls. He held my hand when I was scared. He asked questions of his own. He made sure I was comfortable. He tasted the broth to make sure it was vegetable and when it wasn't it, he let them know and asked them not to bring the jello or coffee anymore because he knew I couldn't have it. He went home to take care of the pets so I would have peace of mind. And he came back every night to sleep in that ratty old recliner. And when I was finally able to come home, he continued to care for me as I know he always will.
This is the real thing folks. This is what life is all about.
In sickness and in health.

The Woman In the Mirror

Sometimes I feel like I'm wearing a mask.
I feel like I have to hide the real me in order to accommodate everyone else. I know this isn't entirely true. I am a quiet introvert who often simply sits and listens to the conversation going on around her. Should I get up the nerve to add a little anecdote of my own, it  often backfires into awkward silence or forced laughter because no one seems to understand/get what I'm talking about. Perhaps it's my delivery? I tend to stutter, get too quiet or too loud depending on how nervous I feel in a situation.
Lately, I've been just keeping my mouth shut because my self esteem is more fragile these days.
Sometimes, my feelings get misread. I tend to hold back until the oddest circumstance sends me into a fit of tears or laughter. I used to cry a lot in high school and paid for it with cruelty from my peers. Enough so that when I returned my sophomore year, I hid the tears long enough to get home and cry in private. The longer I did this, the more I held back and even stopped crying behind closed doors.
What was the point?
This makes me sound like I was some fragile/lost/depressed little person...but who isn't at least one of these in high school? We all just handle it in our own way.
I don't like crying in front of anyone. It's not that I see it as a weakness, it's that I fear this is how everyone else perceives it. My brother-in law mocks me because I cry at movies (pretty much MOST movies/TV shows). I take it because that's what's expected and it doesn't truly bother me enough to cause a conflict. But this is my outlet- my way to escape into a fictional world and feel for fictional characters.
It's how I am able to let go.
My Dad doesn't understand why anyone would want to go see anything that would upset them. (For example, the ever so popular 'The Fault In Our Stars'). Why would I purposefully go, knowing it was going to be upsetting?
Because it's a beautiful story and stories such as these awaken feelings in me that I don't want to let go of, even if it's only in a fictional world. I empathize but I don't claim to understand what these characters are going through.I try to apply this to real life situations as well.
But the mask always stays on, leaving me with little to say. I listen. I'm a listener and I typically nod my head and share a compassionate glance when someone finds the need to vent to me about any given thing. I hear everything around me and it seeps into my pores. I hear the common 'I need to lose weight' conversation at work and it affects me because I don't know how to join this conversation. If I say 'me too' (which is what I typically believe), I don't know if I'm more scared of silence, someone agreeing or someone saying 'no you don't'- because it's a real problem and something I struggle with every day.
Plus, I hate it when you're talking to someone and suddenly the conversation turns, making it only about them. Sometimes I need to vent too and though I appreciate someone trying to understand, sometimes I just need someone to listen. 
I don't thrive being around such negativity. People are generally too hard on themselves and where I choose to keep it quiet and confined in my own mind, others tend to let it out in the world, creating a harsh light around everyone else around them.
On the rare occasion, I'll pipe in with a cynical remark, joining in the badly tasted humor around me and then I feel sick to my stomach.
When is it ever OK to make fun of another human being behind their back? No one ever truly knows what's going on in anyone's life and we're all so quick to judge.
These are the things that keep me up at night.
Mask or no mask. Sometimes I forget who I am and who I want to be. It's hard to hold onto completely and it's easy to stray.
All I can do is keep striving to be better.
It's amazing how powerful positive thinking can be.

'As I, turn up the collar on
My favorite winter coat
This wind is blowing my mind
I see the kids in the streets
With not enough to eat
Who am I to be blind?
Pretending not to see their needs'
- Michael Jackson ('Man In the Mirror)

It Only Takes A Moment

It's summer.
And even though I swore I would never complain about the heat again after moving from 100+ degree weather during Raleigh Summers to 80+ weather here in Asheville....
It's freakin hot!
The humidity is starting to make me resemble Monica from Friends during her Caribbean excursion. I will not be getting corn roes but good Lord, how I sometimes wish to have some magic beauty tips on keeping my hair semi-smallish and my face from glistening in sweat with it's paleness for all to see.
I'm not a girly girl- never have been. But I do have moments when I would like to feel pretty. Those moments in THIS weather are very few and far between this season.
Every time I feel like I'm starting to become a little bit more comfortable in my own skin, small insecurities creep back up in a huge way. My skin will start to clear up one day and the next it looks as though I'm a 30+ year old teenager with dark circles under my eyes and acne across my forehead.
I've been asked to be in 2 weddings this year which makes me feel super awesome and like I'm doing something right. One of the weddings was a few weeks ago and we were able to pick out our own dresses but the Bride wanted us to wear fishnets.
I am not a fishnet type of girl per say but as a Bridesmaid, 'your wish is my command' is the sort of attitude that should be portrayed. So fishnets were discussed and a type of lacy pair with flair was picked out. Again, not my cup of tea but I complied, sucked it up, bought the fishnets and the Mary Jane shoes (Oh, did I not mention the shoes?) and I was all set only to find that the day of the wedding everyone else had gotten NORMAL fishnets and I was the only one with the lacy ones. No big deal...I just didn't get the memo.
But I felt so silly and how does one explain the difference?
So, I'm feeling slightly pretty in my purple dress and non-matching tights comparatively to the other girls(meaning the tights, not the prettiness. Everyone looked really beautiful. I just looked like a complete heel who didn't want to get the same sort of tights as everyone else when this was never the case and I was always the one that showed mega support towards anything the bride wanted to do, never complaining, just simply doing...but again. No. Big. Deal. ) Pictures were taken during the whole event and I smiled and laughed and played.
Oh Lord, did I play.
When the music started and no one was dancing, Andrew and I decided to dance with our sweet 2 year old niece. Awesome! Great quality times were ahead. So we're dancing and she loves to be lifted up and swung around. The moment we tried to gracefully lift her up, she went completely dead weight and we barely got her feet off the ground. Wow. She's much heavier than she was the last time I held her in my arms. But we carried on, lifting her and dancing with her, enjoying her giggling and sweet smiles as any proud Aunt and Uncle are apt to do.
But holy crap. I felt so old after a song and a half and I was completely exhausted.
Why didn't we simply have kids when we were still in our 20's?
Needless to say, it was a bit discouraging being out danced by a lively and energetic 2 year old that never stops. It was worth it....but still exhausting to say the least.
My point? My point is that the universe seems to keep challenging me more and more every time I think I'm just a little bit ahead of the game. Every time I see a new path in our journey getting closer and closer, something comes up, making that path just a little bit further away from reality.
For example, the day after the wedding, my back was in quite a bit of pain and I just figured it was from all of the dancing and riding in the car. The next day, I was in the ER with a massive UTI and kidney infection.
Who knew?
John Lennon said it best, "Life is what happens when you're too busy making other plans". I used to think that this lyric applied to only good moments in life that happen under our noses, un-noticed becasue we're so busy worrying about the future. The longer I live however, i'm beginning to understand that it appies to all aspects of life.
Life happens.
Shit happens.
And we are in less control of the world around us than we would like to be.
So next time I find myself struggling with the summer heat, simply wishing for Fall, I need to remind myself that the year will be at it's end soon enough. So many months and days and moments lie between and I don't want to miss any more of them...
Good or bad.

"Before you go to sleep,
Say a little prayer,
Every day in every way,
It's getting better and better"
- John Lennon