Everything else is just Stuff!

We spend a lifetime working for ‘Stuff.’ I like ‘Stuff’ as much as the next guy. Although my idea of ‘Stuff’ is somewhat different than some that I know. My “Stuff” is a house that I can’t really afford in an economy that hasn’t allowed me to sell it. Or a new pair of jeans because my dryer shrunk mine. Or a $10.00 box of hair dye to hide the Grey. My gas tank miraculously full all the time would be a dream come true. My needs are pretty little.


There is nothing like that moment when you ask yourself what and who you are without all the Stuff. I’ve had the opportunity to do that more than once in my life. Dammit anyway.

I wanted the White Picket Fence dream for my kids. The happy loving Mom and Dad, the original set in tact, none of this Blended Family Business. A Couple of kids. The cute little house. The dog and the cat.

After I divorced the first time I was torn with Grief over not being able to give that to my kids regardless of trying for almost 14 years with a man who didn’t even know who I really was and resented the Awakened Person that I wanted to be. He married a Girl and Divorced a Broken Woman.

That Night that the Marriage ended and me and my two girls were laying on a deflating air mattress in my mothers spare bedroom, no job, no money, no home. We took nothing with us that night when we left. It was then that I first got the opportunity to Prioritize my Stuff list. As I was laying there trying to cry quietly, my oldest daughter said it all, “Mommy its ok. We have each other. And my dolly. And clean underwear.” And she was right. You got each other and clean underwear, and maybe a can of cream corn, and you’ve just about got everything that you need.

My impatience to wait for the Right One landed me with the two Wrong Ones. I kicked down doors and rushed into two marriages in an attempt to have the White Picket Fence Dream. By first impression, Instead what I got was a lot of grief and heartache. In the Moment that is how it felt.

I should have listened to my inner voice. The first time I got married I waited until one week before the wedding to ‘borrow’ a dress and the second time I ended up getting married in a black sweater dress I found in the bottom of my closet because the one I had didn’t fit and made me look like a white German sausage in heels. The big question being why did I hide that dress in the back of the closet and pretend it wasn’t there until the night before I was getting married. DUH.

In the Bigger Picture I know that it was all meant as a passage of growth so that I’d be ready when I did meet the Right One. I’d know it. And I’d Appreciate it and Honor it in a way that I was never capable of doing before.

The light at the end of the tunnel was always right in front of me. I was just clogging it with People and Things that didn‘t belong there.

The best thing that has come from this economy and the loss of my house hanging over my head on a daily basis along with the uncertainty of my future employment is that I have been forced, again, to look at my ‘Stuff” list and to realize what makes me Breath and Laugh and Live. Not that I had ever really forgotten.

It’s Love. Loving my beautiful amazing daughters. Loving my Soul Mate. Loving my Friends and Family. And being loved back by them. That is everything I have ever wanted in my life.

Everything else is just ‘Stuff’.

There is a Bigger Picture

Some of the most Bittersweet moments in my life have turned out in the future to be the very best. Usually I’m to stuck smack dab in the middle of it to be able to even glimpse any possible Positive Outcome, until much later.


For instance, take my divorce to Dumb Ass. While in the midst of it I felt nothing but the pain of Searing Flesh. The tearing apart of two people who had committed to be One in the path of Life. No matter how badly one or the other may want it or need it, when you tear the One back into Two, you are both left with wounds to lick. Some more than others.

Some 10 years later not only am I a happier and stronger person because of that experience but I can look back and laugh about the things that seemed so important in the moment. I can remember a month long fight between our attorney’s because I took the Tin full of Medicine. That bottle of Tylenol costing us both about $500.00 in attorney’s fees. It’s funny now, but was serious business back then. He wanted the antique tv. So I handed it over but not before I unscrewed the back of it and unplugged all the wires. He closed out the savings account. I threw all the dishes in the garbage & his underwear in the front yard. The hot tub disappeared to later be located at one of his relatives house. I took all the good furniture and left him with the broken stuff. And on and on it went. I can’t even imagine how tired my friends and family got of hearing my endless angry droning about ‘stuff’ that would mean absolutely nothing in the future.

If only we could try to envision the Bigger Picture and stop focusing on all the little details and things. How much more fulfilling and less frightening our life might be.

I’m stuck in one of those moments where I wish I could turn on the flat screen TV and see what it is I am supposed to BE. How much easier the journey might be if I had a freakin clue which direction to take.

I take comfort in Colonel Sanders. Not in the way you might think, mind you. Colonel Sanders dropped out of school in seventh grade and worked many jobs, including steamboat pilot, insurance salesman, railroad fireman, farmer, and enlisted in the Army as a private when he was only 16 years old. I also believe he was an attorney at one time, but don’t quote me on that. When he was 40, he worked at his Service Station and served his special chicken recipe out of his living quarters in the back. Quite innovative if you ask me.

What I love about His Story is that it wasn’t until he was 65 that he franchised his company KFC and really figured out what in the hell he wanted to do. In many of his speeches he said that was when his life began. After, he retired and got his shit together. Not his exact words. But close.

I want to be THAT guy. Not because it would make the mustache and chin hairs that much more acceptable, but because he never gave up on himself. He kept plugging away and trying different things until he stumbled accidentally onto his gift. And even then, he didn’t hoard his millions. He gave and gave and gave. Besides the multitudes of scholarships that he gave, the people around him became just as wealthy as he was.

He didn’t lose Faith in himself. He wasn’t afraid to succeed or to fail he just kept trying. He saw a Bigger Picture.


What a concept to Give more than you Receive. If only we did that with all our Gifts and Talents and Wealth, how much different Life could BE.

We all have a Story

I slammed my finger in the door. I'm going to probably lose my fingernail. Best case scenario it is going to be black for the next 3 months.

My head is just not in my body right now. In the past couple months I have burned my hand and arm twice. Once on the espresso machine and once on a curling iron. Its amazing the damage that both can do. And I tripped on the concrete stairs and stepped in a potted plant and sliced my heel. Seriously. My daughter looked at me, while I'm trying to not pee my pants from the pain in my finger, and says, "mom, this is getting ridiculous. I’m afraid to let you leave the house alone". That’s a switch.

In my defense I was excited for my weekend away. Away from the mortgage, My dog who just got $200.00 worth of stitches and looks like Frankenstein’s Dog. Away from the Coffee Shop and my absentee partners who want money but won‘t help. Away from the lawn that keeps growing regardless of the fact that I refuse to water it. Just Away. I was so excited I could barely contain myself. Obviously.

We went to the lake and Boated with my Honey’s sister, who is the sweetest most graceful person I have met in a long time. We floated around in a Cabin Cruiser and met up with some of their friends. People who I didn’t even know existed anymore. People with Money. I seriously had thought that kind of People were gone forever. Newsflash; They are out there. They really do exist. I just don’t know any of them.

I had a friend with money once. But she’s broke now and has been in a complete meltdown over it for about 2 years. She has thrown me and everyone else around her under the bus for Pennies. Her fear of being without money is noxious. I see her and think, I don’t even know this person. It’s like a hungry Alien has taken over her body.

What a different world people with Money live in than I do. Not that I’m envious, or would ever admit that I’m envious, but WOW… what fun to be able to throw $100.00’s down on drinks and snacks without having an aneurism doing it. I had to stop myself from grasping the bills in my hands and running for the door, swimming across the lake and back to my car and calling my mortgage company with the great news! I found money. Just laying around. Ha. I have told them that I DO have a box of money, with my name on it, just floating around out in the universe and as soon as it gets sent to my front door I will let them know.

Regardless of the Money, what I noticed the most was that everyone has a story and they want to tell IT. The woman with the 5 carat diamond makes quilts for all her family and likes to drink Red Wine while canoeing with her girlfriends. The ruff and tough guy in the beat up boat that needed towed; knows and is friends with everyone at the Marina including the Preppy guy in the $120,000.00 'cigarette boat'. The man who rode his 10 speed bike to the Lake while balancing his Pabst Blue Ribbon Tall Boy between the handle bars, was hoping to get his teenage daughter her first Boat Ride. The Woman who has been trying to sell the Marina for 5 years but can’t, is obsessed over water stains around the bathroom sinks, I’m not sure she even notices the sunshine anymore.

The 100 some Harley riders who turned out for the Ride for Life Auction to raise money for charity, High Fives to all of them, if tough tattooed guys do high fives. I’m not sure. All I know is that the big blond biker woman whose drink I spilled all over the place did Not beat me up… so, yay for that.

I don’t care who ya’ are. Hanging out with Friends, drinking Mojito’s in the sun (my new favorite drink Ever), swimming and laughing and barbequing. That can make you forget almost anything.

As I was sitting on the beach, I was thinking about my Grandma and how much she would have loved being there with me. She loved her family, when they weren't being judgmental and mean; which was most of the time. She loved to Party. Boats, Water, Music and Beer. I can almost picture her smiling and laughing. A cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other while she tapped her feet in the sand to the music and wished she had her square dancing dress on. I wish I'd have loved her more and judged her less. Especially given the fact that I am now her. My hair is a little longer and my butt is a little bigger, and I don’t smoke but otherwise there I am sitting on the beach with the spirit of my Grandma, a watered down Mojito, tapping my toes in the sand and wanting the moment to never end.

We are all here trying to do the same thing. Live.Love.Be. And We are never really alone while we are doing it.

A Little About Me

I should have started with this. But its hard. My perspective has always been a little skewed about myself. The older I get the more I think that what I thought about myself is less true and the more I get to know who I really am. Like it or not.


I once would have said that I never lied. Hated liars in fact. But its come to my attention that I do lie. Not monumental stuff mind you… just baby lies. When I want to get off the phone I say, ‘I’ll call you right back’. I don’t mean it. What I should say is, “I’m tired of talking to you, or to anyone for that matter, so I’m hanging up now”. But I don’t want to hurt feelings. So I lie. I will never tell you that you look fat. Even if you do. That’s just how I roll.

I always thought I loved big crowds. I really don’t. 8-10 people is my max. But I prefer one at a time. Or maybe two. I do not like to be the center of attention and I don’t have nearly the self confidence that I am able to fake. I hate social events where everyone dresses up and pretends to be someone they aren’t.

I am not modern or high fashioned. I hate shopping. My underwear never match my bra. Wal-mart overwhelms me to the point that I look at all of the crap lined up on the shelves waiting to be bought and then forgotten and I just feel depressed.

My hair, is curly and wild and out of control most of the time not because I do it on purpose but because I am a lazy morning person. I dislike fake fingernails and nearly punctured my ear drum the last time I was talked into getting them.

My alter ego would like to get on a Harley without a helmet and ride down Highway 101 on a sunny warm day even if its not safe. Regardless of the fact that I don’t want my 15 year old to cross the road without holding my hand to keep her safe.

I know the sun gives you cancer but I love it anyway. I never felt closer to God than in a church in Mexico where the floor was dirt and the hymns were in Spanish. I do not separate my laundry and I have a sock basket that intimidates even me.

I’m not a jet setter. I have no desire to see France. My favorite place in the world is a Sunny Day at a Lake or Stream, a good book and a cooler of cold beer.

Farts embarrass me but I don’t mind sharing my toothbrush.

I hardly ever let myself cry in front of anyone. I cry sitting in the bottom of my shower in the dark, sometimes until the water runs cold.

My favorite song is Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison. It makes me want to swing around in circles, tip my head back, shake my hips and sing. No matter where I am. I once had it as my ring back tone for so long people were begging me to remove it.

My Dad died when I was barely old enough to remember him and I inherited an angry alcoholic stepfather who did his best but wasn’t a lot of fun most of the time. My Mom was a manic screamer whose inner child by all appearances had been broken along time ago, mostly we forgave her because she would bake us Betty Crocker Lemon Pudding Cake while we watched a late night movie. That and she was Mom.

I would say my immediate family was dysfunctional. but I’m not sure that even covers it. Even as adults we struggle with relationships with each other and aren’t afraid to take each other down when even the smallest weakness is observed.

I have learned to reach outside and seek family from the circle of people who offer positive reassurance and unconditional love. The others, I simply do not have the energy to let into my bubble. My Light is still fragile. I have to protect it.

I nearly died from stubbornness when I insisted a ruptured appendix was a bad case of gas and refused to go to the ER. It was only at the insistence of my friend Chloe who googled my symptoms that I finally gave in and went. The doctor told me that had I waited a mere hour later, I would have died from Toxic Shock.

I had to abort my first baby at 6 months due to severe complications and I have stood at the grave of a miniature casket and buried premature twins. I railed at God for 20 years. I had my first Panic Attack the day my oldest daughter drove off with her new drivers license, all by herself.

All I ever wanted to be when I grew up was a Mother and a Wife. The first I’m proud to say has been one of the best things I have ever done and done well. I have two amazing mature beautiful daughters, each with very different and distinct gifts and personality’s. I appreciate and love them more than words can even express.

The Wife Part, I haven’t quite mastered that yet. And I say yet, because I’m not giving up on it. I love the idea and sanctity of marriage.

My Man Picker seems to have been broken. Not that I’ve picked all bad men (this is my little disclaimer) but not the right men for me. Up until now.

I will probably always refer to my first ex-husband as Dumb Ass, because he has given me so much grief trying to co-parent over the years. I know that all the books say we should at least appear to be getting along… but F that. I’m just not that good of a liar.

My second ex-husband will be referred to as Alaska Bound Man, because it was his trip out of my bedroom into the garage for a year and then off to Alaska that forced me out of the bottom of the shower and into my closet where I put on my big girl panties and changed my life and started to look inward.

I have never felt more weak and scared about finances while at the same time empowered knowing I can live on so little. I am madly and passionately in love with a man that for the first time in my life I feel completely compatible with. My daughters are almost raised and out of the house and I couldn’t be prouder of who they have become.

I am sitting on the Precipice of a huge change. I can feel it. It vibrates within me.

And with that. I say Cheers to the Weekend.

What to do... What to do...

I applied for a job. In fact I have been applying for jobs since January. Up until then I have never even filled out a job application as something has always just jumped out into my path.


In my attempt to now take Control of the Universe I have decided to apply for just about any job that comes available in the hopes that I will be able to work it in with the 60 hours a week FREE labor that I put into the coffee shop along with my Personal Life which has become more important to me than Ever.

Searching for Employment at 40, and in a crumbling economy, has been a very humbling experience. Given the fact that the job market, in this area, has put women with Bachelors Degrees behind a desk answering phones, I have lowered my expectations a smidgeon. Actually a Giant Smidgeon.

Last Week I applied for a Dog Washing Job. Seriously. I could have squashed the Child interviewing me with one swat of the back of my hand. She is reading over my Resume, which seems quite impressive even to me. Office Manager of a (once) multimillion dollar company. Owner and Operating Manager of a Coffee Kiosk. Sales Woman Extraordinaire Etc.

Instead of being impressed, she flips the application over with her newly French Manicured Nails, and over and over again as if she is hoping to see something that she may have missed the first time. And says, “You just don’t seem to have the right qualifications for this job”. Silence. Really? I’m thinking “Really… you dumb Bitch… I have been washing Dogs and Cats and Kids Butts for the last 18 years… how freakin’ hard can it be? You tie them up. Suds ‘em up. Rinse them. For God’s sake it is not rocket science”.

I said Nothing. There was just to much that I wanted to say. And she was at an unfair disadvantage because she was just to dumb and inexperienced to understand anything that would have come out of my mouth besides maybe the F Word. Plus I did not want to be personally responsible for traumatizing her. No matter how dumb she was. So. I said Nothing.

I raised the Bar and applied for a receptionist job at a Veterinary Office. Its answering the phones. Right. She reads my application/resume and says I’m just way to Over Qualified. I try to explain to her that I’m ok with that, without sounding as if I’m begging. I was not convincing.

I send my Resume to a Church Office for a bookkeeping position. In my phone interview she asks me what my beliefs are. Not only did I NOT get the job, but I am now on their Prayer Chain.

And so. I continue to make Coffee while my partners are sunning themselves off their decks or whatever it is they do. And I wonder when I will ever listen to the advice of Friends and Loved ones. If I had a nickel for every person who distastefully said, “EWWW… going into business with Your Mother and Your Friend”… I wouldn’t be applying for a job anywhere. I’d be sitting on some sandy beach with my Honey Bunny, drinking Icey Cold Corona’s.

I think the lesson here is just to obvious to even point out.

Lifes a Great Adventure

Half an Hour late for work. I hate that. No makeup. Hair Wet. I do not love starting my day this way. At some time during the night my alarm got changed from 5:30AM to 5:30PM. I think it was that black man shaped fog that was chasing me in my dreams last night. I screamed so hard in my sleep that my daughter 2 floors up heard it and came running downstairs. I would have sworn that He was hovering over my bed. I simply have to unload the Stress Plate.


My house is for sale. AGAIN. For $50,000.00 less than last year’s listing and $100,000.00 less than the year before. I’m singin’ to deaf ears. The entire neighborhood has their houses for sale. Again.

My single neighbor to the left of me is losing hers in 30-90 days. She plans on being gone before the Green Eviction is taped on the door. That way she’ll feel like it was her choice to leave and not that she was being Removed from her Home. She is going to take her two daughters and what will fit in the back of a Moving Van and drive towards a new job. Leave the rest for the bank that refused to adjust her keep working with her.

I considered that for a brief moment. Very Brief. Besides the fact that I have an amazing wonderful loving boyfriend… I wouldn’t make it to the edge of town and my DumbAss ex would have me arrested for kidnapping. Again.

I keep telling myself that at least I have some equity left in MY house. Unlike everyone else of course… haha.

Last night as I was riding around the yard on my antique lawn mower, those words popped into my head and I laughed. Not so much a laugh really… more a hysterical cackle as I’m thinking, ‘What in the hell does that mean anyway’. And how can I actually say it out loud without howling like a crazy deranged person afterwards.

In this economy how do you know if you have equity until it actually sells. I mean we are just picking numbers out of our butt at this point. Especially given the fact that down the street a once Million Dollar home just went on the auction block for $275,000.00. I’m no Real Estate Expert but I’m assuming that F’s with my Property Value. The words Property and Value in the same sentence being an oxymoron at this point.

And if by some miraculous event my house does sell before the bank decides it no longer wants to let me live here for Free (bastards) I have a slight concern about where or how I will be able to rent a place off the tips I’m making at the coffee shop.

These are silly concerns really, because mind you, I am in the stream. So who needs a house while floating down the river. All I need is an inner tube and a cooler of beer.

Something always happens. You wait and something will change and you‘ll look back and go… AWWWWW OK.

I do have a plan C. In case Plan A & B do not work. I call it the ‘Homeless Van Plan’. I think its quite ingenious really. I buy a Van (off my tips from the Coffee Shop remember), I get a one year membership to the local gym so I can work out and shower every morning for $45.00 a month. I get a Costco Membership and eat samples twice a day for $45.00 a year. I park for 14 days at a time in each campground in the valley. I’m thin and clean. My friend Chloe thinks the ‘Homeless Van Plan’ may be a Keeper. However, You can imagine that my children think this plan sucks the big one.

It won’t be the first of my ‘Life Plans’ that they hate. I once had this great plan of all plans to live in a 10x50 mobile home, that I incidentally found in the paper under the ‘FREE to a GOOD HOME’ section, while we ‘saved money’ to build our dream home.

After remarkably little reluctance on the part of the Alaska Bound Husband and amidst loud protests from our 4 children, we turned the 14x60 Manufactured Home into a ‘Rental Property’ where I proceeded to inadvertently rent to just about every Meth addict who lived in the area and we moved into our FREE 1950ish 10x50 Mobile Home on wheels, surrounded by hay bales to insulate the bottom. I am sure that you can almost picture the look on my kids faces when they saw there new home. “it’s an adventure” I said. With the greatest of smiles.

The Green Bean Casserole lovin’ part of me thought this was a great plan. I could see my savings account getting bigger and bigger.

I did not foresee how difficult it would be to collect rent from a drug addict.

Nor did I know that we would have record cold temperatures that winter. I also did not take into consideration that the 50 year old 2” walls just may not have any insulation left if they ever had any to begin with nor that our Giant Rooster Earl would freeze to death swimming in the dogs heated water dish. And as entertaining as it was to watch my children blow frost puffs while mouthing the word “Adventure”, as they were sitting on the couch watching tv, I did recognize that it may not have been one of my better plans. It was a long tough winter. These things are so much worse when self inflicted.

I was also not prepared for the 50 years of Nasty Gunky Grease that had built up in the pipes. For future reference there is a reason one should call a plumber First not Last for such a job. The gallons of Draino merely unsettled the black blurpy thick oily septic mess leaving it to broil and burp and fart out of the kitchen sink for the better part of a week, it was enough to make your eyes water and your throat burn. The cure of which became the shower curtain cut into squares and duct taped over the sink until the plumber came to our rescue. $250.00 later we could breath… and use the kitchen sink again. Best $250.00 I ever spent. I was so happy I asked the plumber to marry me. He did Not even crack a smile as he ran to his work truck.

That is the season that my children call “Mom’s Great Adventure” and certainly one we would all like to avoid in the near future.

I’m sure there is more than one lesson I could derive from that entire experience. Besides the obvious, that being do not rent to Meth addicts, I think I learned that Nothing in this life is FREE! Everything comes with a Price. That one cost me a Rooster. :0)

Sent to me from My friend Chloe

Chloe  July 14 at 2:25pm


I tried to 'comment' on your Blog and this was my comment..but it wouldn't accept it! So here it is:

Finally, a place to vent! Oh my God, this is hilarious! To read what my friend tells me every day (spoke one of the said girlfriends) ...the one with the evil Poltergiest-like property manager who tells me I need to 'get a full-time job'. Tells me 'maybe it's time to accept that you can't afford the house'...are you fucking kidding me???!!! I've already 'been there, done that' with the whole foreclosure thing, already had the Sell Everything That Isn't Nailed Down Garage Sale (at Suzy's advice hahaha) and yes we drank the whooole time! :) I've been struggling to maintain a full-time job, and an inflated rent payment on a house in the middle of an area that, in the last 20 years, has managed to shut down every semblance of industry and revenue and inflate the property values to such an insane level that NOBODY, and I mean NOBODY can afford to live here. And if they say they can they are smoking medical marijuana (heeellloooo.....it's harder to start a licensed daycare in this valley than it was to become a 'caregiver' when they opened the floodgates of the medicinal weed.) Point being, we are living in an economy where there are no jobs, no industry, the cost of living is out of this world, and if a lonely little job happens to rear it's pathetic head, you've got a minimum of 300 totally overqualified people mauling it to a bloody pulp. Sigh....and I've "Been The Water" for 4 frickin years...ever since I divorced Suzy's FIRST husband ( I know, right?! That's why we drink!!"). But seriously, I get that you can't control shit. I get that there's a bigger picture. I get that material things really don't matter and I have learned to live with soooo little.. and like it! I love my children, where I live, my lifestyle, my friends, my family, my boyfriend, and I truly believe everything leads to something else. Sometimes it blows me away to realize I'm living a life that is feeding off the lessons of the past and THANK GOD I lived and learned those lessons ..."All is well. All is going according to plan. Trust that there is a bigger picture. Trust that life is unfolding as it should."... But, frankly being on the verge of getting kicked out of my rental and finding a new home for me and my 3 (well, 2 cuz my 18-yr-old is venturing out..)children, hoping it isn't gonna be a frickin cardboard BOX...tends to make me hyperventilate more than a little and argue with the bigger picture and deny that there is even a remote possibility that I am destined to be on the street. I don't WANT that to be part of the 'Bigger Picture'...bigger picture my ass! Ok, Susan, it's time for our drinks, now! :) hahahaha

C.

Pick Your Teeter~Totter Buddies Carefully!

They say that everything you need to know about Life you learned in Kindergarten. I never went to Kindergarten but the thing I learned in the first grade that sticks in my head is this; Never have a friend who will get off the Teeter-Totter while you are still at the top.


We all have them. Friends who’ll jump and bail and leave you to hit the ground hard. Just because they can. Or they are to scared to stay on the Teeter-Totter with you. Or they found another friend to play with. Or it could simply be a small bright shiny object that distracted them and they forgot you were sitting up there waiting for them to push off and send you to the ground slowly.

I hate the Teeter-Totter. Every day at recess I’d get talked into getting on the damn thing. Thinking and knowing that sooner or later one of you would have to get off first. It was never me. I never jumped off first. I still don’t know why. And I’m still like that. Recess after recess I’d be dusting off my dress and picking splinters out of my ass from hitting the ground and sliding off the end of the wooden totter.

It’s about being there for the people you love. When you get on the Teeter-Totter you should only do it if you plan on being present for the ride and conscious and graceful about your exit.

After you hit the ground so many times hopefully start picking your Teeter-Totter friends more carefully. In the past year I have started to do that. Or actually God did it for me. When I had my no more Teeter-Totter Jumping Friends Epiphany I was inundated with good friends who had been there all along. I just couldn’t see them because the ‘Jumpers’ were standing at the beginning of the line blocking my view.

The other thing I learned in First Grade was don’t eat the glue.

Lesson for the day. Choose your Teeter-Totter buddies more carefully. :0)

Flubber Invention!

Last night I had a dream that I had invented Flubber. Apparently Boyfriend says I tossed and turned and talked in my sleep all night long. I was yelling at Flubber to get out of the kitchen sink. It was full of sudsy water and dirty dishes and I was afraid he was going to drown. Then I was chasing Flubber all over the place trying to catch him but he kept slipping through my fingers. I’ve been doing a lot of dreaming and talking and running in my sleep. I wake up exhausted.


I’m fighting the stream right now. I float a little ways down it then I start swinging my arms and try to fight my way back up it. I know the answer. The Truth. Be in the Water. Be Like Water. Stop resisting and let life happen. Flow down the Stream.

The little Suzy that sits on the left shoulder says, “Bullshit. Fight it all the way. Kick the doors down. Make something happen right freakin’ now.” The little Suzy that sits on the right side of my shoulder says, “Shhhhh. Be Patient. Embrace the stillness. It‘s all going to happen when the timing is right and perfect”.

What’s going to happen? The Economy will turn around just for me. The Creditors will quit calling because they think I deserve a break. People will start buying 2 or maybe even 3 Latte’s a day so I can finally collect a check at the coffee shop and buy out my non-participating partners. Someone will pay off my mortgage so that the Foreclosure Notices will quit coming in the mail every 3 months. I’m going to find my house key laying on the table when I get home. The laundry will do it self. My run down P.O.C. Nissan will turn into a Land Cruiser with bright shiny chrome wheels and a tank full of gas.

Seriously, why is it so difficult to decide which things to Let Happen and which things to take control of. I believe that there is a little Gerbil running around in my head after dark, jumbling up all the boxes and mixing up the information.

Apparently last night said Gerbil took ‘Control the Universe’ out of the ‘Let God handle it’ box and put it in my ‘Do Today Box’. So. Its been a busy busy morning.

Every one I know is suffering from unwanted Change right now. My girlfriend who once made $20,000.00 a month, B.E.C. (Before Economy Crash) is considering a $7.25 an hour job supplemented by Food Stamps. My other single girlfriend told her landlord that she ‘definitely takes that 3 Day Pay or Vacate Notice seriously’ and is working on her current cash flow in hopes she won‘t have to take it so seriously that she needs boxes and packing tape. And I paid for my car insurance in quarters & dimes this month. Which, BTW Universe, I am thankful to have had.

Do Not Panic. Do not race for the Door. Breath in. Breath Out. Keep doing that until the Gerbil is asleep.

And the thought for today is to NOT drink before Noon. O yay. It’s 12:10. HA.

I was born Scared...

I was born scared. Fear was in control of my body & my soul. It made all of the decisions for me for about 30+ years. It didn’t help that I was born to a woman of Anger and Pain herself. Someone who could rant about a Green Bean Casserole being White Trash Food for hours.  I love Green Bean Casserole.  Of course.

Being afraid all the time.. well, that all changed for me.  Without my permission or my help.  I'm not sure when I realized that I wasn't afraid anymore.  At some point I just accepted that things might not go according to my high and mighty plans and visualized myself laying on my back in the midst of a warm stream, not that any of those really exist in Montana.  They are all butt cold.  But regardless, its my vision and the streams are warm.  And I'm floating down it, trying to not hit any of the boulders in my way.

I think it was when my Daughter moved out of the house & I ended up in an expensive custody battle with my dumbass First Ex-Husband, My second husband lived in the garage for a year then slipped off to Alaska to work or fish (I'm not sure which), I lost my job due to the economy and then recieved my first Foreclosure Notice in the mail.  I laid down on the grass with the Notice on my chest and I cried.  And cried some more.  Then I wiped the tears off and thought.  Fuck.  I checked my pulse.  Heart still beating.  Blood still Flowing.  Ok.  The things I had feared the most had happened and I hadn't died.  So.  I wiped the tears, rolled my self over and dragged my tired body into the house that I was about ready to lose.


A year later I'm still trying not to lose the house.  I still have a roof over my head.  I had a major 'Pissed-Off-Wife-Husband-Left-for-Alaska-Garage-Sale and paid a couple months mortgage.  (Note to self Honey... Don't leave the Garage Door Unlocked and head to Alaska.. HA).  I divorced the man who went to Alaska. And I sold my soul to Satan by opening up a business with My Mother.  And my BestFriend.  Neither of whom are now speaking to me.

Life.Land.People. Just keeps changing and evolving whether we are in for the ride or not.