Archive for A Moment in My Life
Moving Forward By Looking Back At Nothing
there is no hope for us anymore
let’s just sign our paperwork
and move on
and some day, we will only ever have to be in the same room for some family event
perhaps years will pass without having to see my face, or hear my voice
and your life will be perfect and happy
you will have the joy that you said I always prevented you from having
****
Why do we look back? Why don’t we just live in the moment we are in? After all, it’s the only thing that is totally real – this moment. The one one are in.
Why do we look to the future? Why do we think about the things we want and where we hope to be? It so rarely turns out the way we imagine it.
Is all of my suffering in my own head? Is finding happiness a choice?
Should I rejoice when lied to? Find some kind of happiness with an inconsiderate act? Accept blame that isn’t my fault, with a smile on my face?
Ok, here’s what I think —- you can look on the sunny side. You can find the silver lining in a cloud. You can make lemonade with the lemons – but sometimes, the way somebody treats you is likely to make you feel crappy no matter how much of a Pollyanna you are. So, the best I think I can hope for is that some day you just get numb to it. And then maybe, sometime thereafter, make peace with it.
So here we are. I can’t talk to you. And I now realize, I have to find my own way to get past this, because you only ever rub me raw. You will never give me what I need and I have to swallow it.
And I will forget it all…even the good things, because those have always hurt worst of all to remember. And I have enough distance now to know I can get past this. I can keep moving forward. And if I feel the need to look back, I will look back at nothing.
With luck, that numbness will set in. Then someday, peace. For now, I will settle for strength.
*****
“A divorce is like an amputation: you survive it, but there’s less of you”
Margaret Atwood quotes
Kids These Days
It’s impossible to go to our mall in the summer without encountering bands of roving, bored and snarky teens. They walk on the benches, laugh too loud, do all sorts of horrible things to their bodies, and still look full of rosy-cheeked energy. It’s annoying.
There are reality TV princesses receiving $25,000 birthday parties and kids who have their own posh apartments at fifteen. Does it occur to anybody else that if a poor person dropped their teen off to live by themselves, it would land them in some trouble? Solid gold birthdays won’t make up for the missing time and love from these kids lives. As a result they walk around feeling like we all owe them something. You can hear it in the click of their Manolo Blahniks as they trot by with their noses in the air.
There are plenty of annoying things about young people. When I say, “young people,” I don’t mean the adorable 7 year old missing her two front teeth and loves fairy coloring books. I mean the kid who has hit puberty and has suddenly decided that 1) Nothing can really hurt them much as long as they have plenty of Red Bull or Rock Star on hand and 2) That all of the important knowledge of the world has been imparted to them and that once somebody hits 25 years of age, all of this, like, amazing knowledge, like, falls out of your ears. That’s why they know everything and you are so, like, lame.
Now 40 years old, I have been annoyed by teens for well onto fifteen years. Their carelessness makes me crazy; sitting in the tiny car next to me with their stereo vibrating everything in a one-mile radius and none of them are buckled. Sometimes I have the urge to follow them all the way home and tell their mothers.
But I’ve realized in recent years that the most annoying young people are the ones you don’t really know. That is, if you get to know some of these kids, they are full of thoughts, ideas and curiosity. Not all of them. But there is as large a range of younger people as their are older ones. Some are self-absorbed, materialistic brats. Others are interesting, caring, creative and responsible individuals.
I was helping at the theatre, painting with an old pal and some new pals, just helping out a tiny bit for Port Tobacco Players Producers. I didn’t arrive until 10pm and Jade and I ended up working until nearly 4am. During that time several of the younger members of the theatre were talking about everything from the art on the Led Zeppelin cover to Disney executives. They were playing and thoroughly enjoying music from shows, Cole Porter, newer alternative bands and even some music from the 1930s. As they verbally danced with each other, quoting Monty Python, talking about Star Trek and ideas for performance art pieces all the while they helped paint and cobble together the set stuff, I just marveled at them. When I was their age I was not that witty and creative. Admittedly I was already a mom at 15 years old, so much of my time was spent working and tending to a child, so I couldn’t spend time watching Monty Python or doing volunteer work because I was busy watching Sesame Street, doing homework and changing diapers. However, these people really were, well, pretty damned cool and interesting. They all easily kept up their ends of the conversation with people twice their age. Their interests were diverse and they kept making me think of all the other younger folks I know who just keep impressing me with their witty banter and endless imaginations and impressive talents.
Lately I have been lamenting a little about my age. Not my age exactly, but how old Will and I were when we met. And still, it isn’t about the age so much as it is about what we missed out on together. You don’t get your youth back. You can stay young at heart, but there are things that will never happen for you past a certain age. It’s kind of a wistful feeling sometimes. I’m not “old” really, but I am older than I imagined being when I was twenty years old. You hear yourself say things that you only equated with old folks. And sometimes you laugh at yourself. Other times, you feel a little pang of loss.
I won’t spin my wheels on it too long, because really I am lucky to have met Will at all. I am lucky that I am basically healthy. And besides, we can visit all parts of ourselves in conversation and then the world is timeless. It might make a good story. Something to write about. We can’t really go back. Or can we?
Insomania
My energy comes and goes in cycles. Right now I’m in a very creative phase, which means I also have a brain that just can’t rest. I didn’t actually get to bed until 4:30am and when I did get to bed, my brain still wouldn’t rest and I cried because of the thoughts running through me.
These phases are both wonderful and stressful. I tend to get a lot of writing done and art completed. But I also imagine horrible scenarios, worry incessantly and have difficulty making myself go to bed, unless it’s to have sex. Even that gets me all energized – it flips on all sorts of switches and makes my brain buzz with activity.
It’s always this mix of good energy and bad energy – creative thoughts and scary ones.
Last night (this morning!) I struggled to push away thoughts by watching television, since I’d already done writing and edited photos over a long day of work. I pondered my Weighting project and where it was going. I replayed a phone conversation with my sister in my head. I wondered what I should do to honor my parent’s 41st wedding anniversary that I forgot to commemorate this past week. I tried to remember where my address book and stamps were to send of the letters I wrote to my grandmothers. They made it into envelopes and with their names, they just need those final steps to get them out there. I wrote a grocery list and did laundry on and off. All while watching some crime shows, which only fuel my fears.
Finally I felt myself dropping off. I decided to go to bed. But the act of walking to my room, using the restroom, brushing my teeth and climbing into bed woke me up a bit. While I lay there my brain began racing again. Perhaps I should start at the beginning. Well, the middle of the beginning, anyway.
Will I had taken Jade to Applebees earlier in the day for a dinner break. They both sat across from me and Jade was tired and rested her head on Will who gave it a gentle pat while we waited for food. Then later they were both singing a song together from West Side Story. I took a little video of that and posted it on Facebook. Well, it just touched my heart I guess. I am glad Jade has two father figures in her life who care so much about her. It’s nice she and Will have so much in common. But those happy thoughts started to become, “What if I die?” I wondered, if I died, if Jade would still be able to spend as much time with Will as she does now. I supposed not. I wondered if they would even be living in the same city any longer. I wondered where Will would live if Robert moved into the house with Rachelle. I started to get choked up with thoughts of what might happen to their relationship. I feel Will really represents me and my perspective and if I were gone, I would want that very nurturing, art loving, theatre loving influence in her life still, on a regular basis.
Those thoughts alone weren’t what pushed me to sobbing, though. During the processes of thinking these thoughts I felt a huge hole in my heart suddenly appear. It had already been there, but I didn’t realize it at first. I can only liken it to the feeling you have of wanting your mother when you’re sick or this sense of security you get when you are a long-time couple and family with somebody. As I lay there thinking what might become of Will and Jade if I died, I realized that the warm safe feeling I once had that Robert was “in this with me” was gone. It’s like realizing your mother isn’t going to come hold your hair while you get sick, not because she can’t but because she doesn’t want to be around you anymore. It’s a sinking feeling and the tears started coming out in waves of sobs. I felt horrible for waking Will up. He was only four hours into his sleep and only had an hour left before getting up. I kept apologizing for crying and he kept petting me and telling me it was going to be ok and not to worry. He asked what was wrong and I told him it was hard to explain. It was like realizing I couldn’t have my mother if I was sick. It was a hole. It was a void and mourning and overwhelmed me with sadness. Eventually the crying exhausted me and I found sleep for about an hour, then had to wake up to start my day.
I saw Jackie in the morning and told her some of how I’d been feeling just a few hours before. She said that with such a long time relationship and history, that I would have moments like that for years to come. In part because there is still love and caring there. If there wasn’t, then I wouldn’t be sad and feel loss the way I do, I suppose.
I wrote this blog a dozen times in my head, just to work out the feelings. I guess that alone helps. It doesn’t make the hurt go away, but it does help me understand it and cope a bit.
A Very Merry Un-Birthday Party
Even though I’d just had that big ol’ party the previous weekend, followed by lots of cleaning, I suddenly decided on Friday I wanted an excuse to make vanilla cupcakes and have some friends over. So, I decided on a Very Merry Un-Birthday Tea Party for Sunday and began letting folks know they could come by to share some treats and have some genteel chit chat. I think I wanted to have another party because I enjoyed the first one so much. I realized how much I’d been living in the future. How much I’d been planning and not DOING things. Always preparing! Not that preparing for things is bad, it’s just no fun if all you ever do is prepare. Plus, I would sometimes get hung up on stuff like needing new carpet or hating my couch. Now, I just want to have fun and try to remember that the square footage of my home would be huge by New York City real estate standards! So there!
I am hunting down old top hats for the next one – for Will to wear. And I would like something in linen, cotton and silk. The party was small, but it was just enough people to stuff my living room up. We were going to have it in the yard under the canopy and if it hadn’t been over a hundred degrees with the heat index, it woulda been perfect! We still had fun and were a bit cooler, though I could only manage to get my house temperature down to about 79 degrees! This way we could talk and eat comfortably and also play Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland in the background on the television.
Jade had tried on several outfits and finally found the perfect ensemble which was merely layers from the studio closet. She’s quite clever and theatrical, that girl. Amber is too and I think not only would they both have come up with something wonderful, they probably would have put on a little show for us. Amber would have had fun. I miss you Bertie!
My friends Heather, Shelia, Angela and Leslie all came over. We had plenty of treats and ICED tea and lemonade. At some point I had whispered to Will that perhaps he should read us some Alice in Wonderland (he does great voices for stories!) and so at the table I announced, “Who wants some entertainment?” Angela said, “Will! Take it off!” Well, Shelia decided that was not very tea-party appropriate so we put up our pinkies and asked him to “disrobe” by chanting it very politely. At this time, Jade exited the room, but returned quickly as we were only teasing and Will stayed…um, robed. Will didn’t end up reading as the party had already gone on for some time. Maybe next tea party!
A Midsummer Arabian Night’s Dream
Hello friends! I am way behind on my blogging. Sorry about that! I have been so busy I’ve barely phoned friends and relatives that were long overdue for conversation and plan discussions.
I’m on my damned cycle, so I am sipping on fruit smoothie in nice stretchy yoga pants and am going to catch up on blogging and photos.
My sister came up for a visit the weekend before this past one and helped me set up for my “Faerie Party” (co-hosted by my long-time friend Jackie). Jackie and I have hosted faerie parties in the past. We had a gap of about four or five years where we didn’t have one and this party was to test things out. To get our feet wet and see how it went. It was much less structured than our past parties – which all had contests for costumes, food, drink and wooing. We decided that the party went well and that we will have another one next year, but we will also be returning to our previous format of contests. We did give out awards, including a big beautiful book of fairy art, some bellydance DVDs, notecards and also author Keith Donohue most generously sent me a signed copy of The Stolen Child to give out as an award.
The evening was full of all sorts of fun and not much mayhem, which was great. Not that I’m against a little mayhem from time to time, but in the case of this hot day of fun and costumes, less mayhem suited the occasion.
It was opening weekend of a show Jade was cast in – her first role where she “has a name” as she puts it. The first show where, “I’m not dancer number three or kangaroo number two.” It had been so busy in part because also Will volunteered to be in the show, in rather large role. The Diviners was out at a theatre I used to do a little work at; Hard Bargain Players in Accokeek. Our friend Brian Donohue (brother of Keith mentioned above) had been cast as C.C. Showers, but fell ill (and is on the mend now) a week before opening. Will stepped in to help the show go on. After all, some of his favorite people were in the show, including Jade and his pal Sean was directing – his directorial debut – how could he let the folks down? I think he did amazingly, though I didn’t see much of him for two weeks as every possible moment was spent memorizing lines, then blocking. Everybody did an amazing job and I was so proud of Jade and Will. As a result though, Will was late to the party, so it was really great that I had friends and family come and help put things together. I saw the show every night except that night. And Brian and I sat next to each other closing night and watched it. Other very supportive friends came out to see Jade and Will and all the others, as well.
For a couple of weeks we’d been prepping the yard. Even Robert and his girlfriend Rachelle and her sons came over to help get the yard tidied up. Jackie did her fair share as co-hostess with painting and melting in the hot sun. Bless her heart, he face gets all red, just like Jade’s. Man it was hot those weeks! My friends Leslie and Natalie came over and helped decorate, make star garlands, sew pillows (which my friend Amy also helped with) and of course my sister Brandi and her friend Janice helped with some of the unglamorous stuff like scooping doggie poop and hanging up costumes and lights.
Christiana and her boy Jason loaned us their gorgeous renaissance tent – it was awful nice to watch Jason set that tent up by himself – I think the ladies helping in the yard were hotter from watching him than from the 95 degree weather. And boy does Christiana and Jason make a good looking couple!
What I’m trying to say is that I had plenty of help and generosity from all over the place. It made for a nice mood for the party.
Here are some photos from the event.
Eviscerated by The Peach Jar’s Glass
I haven’t been dieting or journaling or weighing. There is just too much going on.
This picture is a long story. It’s images of me layered with images from some broken jars of applesauce and peaches, set to various colors.
This image will go on the cover of a sketchbook project. It’s probably going to have some acrylic paint “blood drops” added to it.
Just Doing It
I’ve been in a pit of despair for months, unable to create. Some of what is happening with me can be found at my Weighting blog.
I am ready to create again. I finally decided I need to use my writing and art therapy rather than hold it in and let it rot.
Without explination as to why, I am going to leave you with two things today, a definition and a video link (with lyrics). The two aren’t related, except that they both have meaning to me in the past few months. To see the video with her in it go to the link below.
Comfortable as I am
I need your reassurance
And comfortable as you are
You count the days
But if I wanted silence
I would whisper
And if I wanted loneliness
I’d choose to go
And if I liked rejection
I’d audition
And if I didn’t love you
You would know
And why can’t you just hold me
And how come it is so hard
And do you like to see me broken
And why do I still care
still care
You say you see the light now
At the end of this narrow hall
I wish it didn’t matter
I wish I didn’t give you all
But if I wanted silence
I would whisper
And if I wanted loneliness
I’d choose to go
And if I liked rejection
I’d audition
And if I didn’t love you
You would know
And why can’t you just hold me
And how come it is so hard
And do you like to see me broken
And why do I still care
Poor little misunderstood baby
No one likes a sad face
But I can’t remember life without him
I think I did have good days
I think I did have good days
And why(why) can’t you just hold me
And how come it is so hard
And do you like to see me broken
And why do I still care
***
From Wikipedia – Crocodile Tears
Crocodile tears are a false or insincere display of emotion such as a hypocrite crying fake tears of grief. The expression comes from an ancient anecdote that crocodiles weep in order to lure their prey, or that they cry for the victims they are eating. This tale was first spread widely in English in the stories of the travels of Sir John Mandeville in the 14th century.[1]
| “ | In that country and by all Inde be great plenty of cockodrills, that is a manner of a long serpent, as I have said before. And in the night they dwell in the water, and on the day upon the land, in rocks and in caves. And they eat no meat in all the winter, but they lie as in a dream, as do the serpents. These serpents slay men, and they eat them weeping; and when they eat they move the over jaw, and not the nether jaw, and they have no tongue. | ” |
An alternate explanation for the expression’s origin is that crocodile tears cannot be authentic because crocodiles cannot cry; they lack tear ducts. Yet this is a myth: Crocodiles possess lacrimal glands which secrete a proteinaceous fluid, just like in humans, though tears will only be visible after a crocodile is out of the water for a prolonged period of time, and the eyes begin to dry out. However, while crocodiles can and do generate tears, they do not actually cry.[2]
One prominent use of the expression is by Shakespeare in Othello Act IV, Scene i
I have to say, that Maria Mena reminds me of my oldest daughter and myself (a much younger thinner myself) – her lips and pouty face, just the whole video reminds me of a very specfic time in my life.
Hi There You!
Sorry I haven’t been updating this site! I have been blogging a bunch on my Weighting bloggy.
I have some things I hope to post on here this week.
To be honest, I have been going through an emotional crisis. I have been struggling just to do my Weighting project and in fact in some ways it has sort of exaserbated my problems – self-esteem wise.
I’m late! I’m late! For a very important date!
Tracy and I met for “Full Afternoon Tea” at The Royal Tea Room in La Plata on Saturday. It was a lovely, long and relaxing lunch where two high-class ladies spoke of only the road conditions and the weather, as is proper.
Okay, part of that is true. We did go for tea, but we talked about ALL SORTS of stuff! Even stuff ladies aren’t supposed to talk about, especially when they are having a proper tea!
Our server was great. Also very clean and pretty. Recently, at Olive Garden (in Waldorf), I had a waitress who had a filthy shirt on – it was FILTHY – and her hands looked quite dirty as well. NOT HAPPY about that. I was distracted the whole dinner and wanted to get up and leave. If we hadn’t just waited over an hour to be seated and if I’d had anything in the old ice-box at home, we would have bolted. I was worried all evening that one of us would get sick. Also, everybody else was starving and I didn’t want to be the one who said, “WE HAVE TO LEAVE NOW!” I won’t be eating there again.
Anyway, as for The Royal Tea Room, it’s very neat and clean looking. The owner seemed stressed the day before on the phone, when she asked if I was sure we would be prompt. Then again in the throws of putting together an event that was to start at two, she seemed rather rushed. I guess it’s good they are getting a lot of business, I just hope that she meditates a little before each big event.
You can go there and order regular meals, such as lunch. We opted for tea, though, to get the full tea experience.
Not for vegans, that’s for sure. I gave up my dairy-ban for the day and also ate some chicken and ham for said tea experience. The chicken salad was very good and so was the tiny tuna melt. There was a lemon blueberry triangle of something sweet that I enjoyed. And of course, the little pink cake was the icing on top. I just adore pink icing!
The best thing I ate, and totally worth the dairy ban lift, was the cream of crab soup. Succulent chunks of crab in a creamy sauce of a soup that my arteries will be working on for weeks. It was a dainty cup of soup though, so I didn’t feel too bad about it!
Our lemon, honey and cream was brought out on the dainty tray. We were able to choose our tea cup from a shelving area with various sorts of tea cups and saucers on it. Tracy opted for super-dainty. I liked the teal flowers on mine.
The server (whose name I neglected to request) smiled for the camera along with Tracy.
Below is an image of Tracy – pinkie out. I insisted. We were putting on “airs.” You’d have to be a Spongebob fan to understand.
See the cute pink one on top? YUM!
Me with my pinkie out!
How Sweet It Is
What is it about pink frosting that makes sweets so appealing? This cookie, which was rather large enough to share with three of my family members, was a sample I ordered ($5.95 shipping included) from a lovely little etsy shop. It was an experiment in search of something wonderful to put on the dessert table for my grandmother’s 75th birthday soiree. I think we may end up ordering enough to give as favors instead, though in butterfly form.
To see the lovely little confections visit lorisplace on etsy. She has all kinds of baked goodies, but her favor cookies are just beautiful. They also come in varied themes. For my grandmother we plan on ordering butterflies. She has Mother’s Day gift assortments. Come Father’s Day, I’ll bet she’ll have some for that too! I like giving edible gifts to family members who have limited household space. They get a very lovely gift and they don’t have to find a place to store it!
Jade got some lovely flowers for her birthday from Ken and his family. Or maybe they were just from her beau Ken. We got her flowers to give her after a performance of Seussical the Musical, in which she was an ensemble member. She also got a nice bunch from a friend of ours too. It was a very sweet gesture. As the flowers died I would combine them into different containers. One of my favorite containers to put flowers into is an old fahsioned Ball jar. The below image includes some crazy cool stripey roses that Ken gave her. In the photo below that is what the bunch looked like as certain flowers began to die off.
The flowers we bought Jade faded the fastest. Why, you might ask yourself? Why oh why? Well, I cut their stems nice and tidy, picked the perfect vase for them and put them in the center of a freshly cleaned table. When I woke up the next morning they looked wilty. I was much dismayed that the store had obviously given me a lousy bunch of old flowers. I marched over to the table and picked the vase up and notice that I had forgotten to put water in it! The poor flowers were dying of thirst and it was ALL MY FAULT!
In keeping with the Seussical theme of the weeks surrounding Jade’s birthday, we ordered a fun little cake from Charles St. Bakery. I just said, “Gimme some stripes and polka dots in bright colors.” They did it on one day’s notice too. WOO HOO!
I stopped by the bakery this morning to meet a new pal and ran into two old pals who came in at different times during our visit. New pal Kendall asked, “Heather, do you know everybody?” And older pal Debra said that I did. I laughed. On the way home I thought of my first friend I’d made when I moved to Maryland. Sherry befriended me a few months after I moved here. I was pretty lonely and insulated with Robert gone at work all day, no car and little cash. I was homeschooling my daughters and we spent most of each day reading, doing crafts, watching shows and movies and playing games. Anyway, Sherry was doing work for a local community theatre. She was tying up loose ends on a show she was directing and she needed somebody to help paint the set. I had been poking around the internet looking for something to do and somehow we connected. I think it was the next day, she picked up my kids and me and took us to the theatre. I painted some designs on the set having no idea what the heck I was doing. She was very nice and encouraging. I’d never done set painting in my life, but I was very happy to have something creative to do besides what came in kid’s craft books. Sherry immediatly took me under her wing. She toted my little clan around town a couple of times and every place we went somebody knew her. I thought that was so cool. She is a good friend and now her daughter, who grew up alonside my oldest, is a regular fixture in our house – a sort of extended family member. And just like that, I had a friend. From that friendship the world opened a bit more. Sherry’s goddessy energy really made me feel inspired.
While at the bakery I had a lovely buttery apple poundcake slice. It was a resonable slice and my lungs have been doing quite well, so I’ve allowed myself a little bit of dairy here and there. I still am using soy milk all the time though. There are only three tables in the tiny bakery, but it’s got such a nice “small-town” feel to it.
Robert is doing a 5K walk for hospice in St. Mary’s tomorrow. I’m very proud of him. I think when I am done writing this I will go give him squishes and kisses.
Billy boy is putting on a Monty Python – maybe I ought to go spend some time with him now.
Those are sweet things in life too, don’t you think? Doing a good deed. Snuggling on the couch and watching something silly. Nibbling on pretty cookies. Making new friends. All wonderful sweet bits of life.
I am missing a party at a fabulous friend’s house tonight. I sure hope they are having fun! All the little puzzle pieces didn’t fall into place for me tonight Christiana – sorry! Have tons of fun without me and thank you *so much* for the invite. That was sweet too!
Tomorrow I hope to get the studio humming! I’ll keep ya posted! Hey, remind me to tell you about all the Alice in Wonderlandy things going on around me. And the Snow White stuff I plan on doing!
Thank you so much for stopping by and leaving me a note. I will...
