Sunday, January 22, 2012

new love

Meet Waffle.

I adopted Mr. Waffle from the local animal shelter. My little man named him, saying he looks just like a waffle. Personally I don't see the similarity but his first choice was to call him Honeybear and that wouldn't work for me. So Waffle it is. He is a wonderful kitty and I am absolutely IN LOVE with him. He pounces, cuddles, purrs, stretches and has the cutest mew in the world...

He and I both have some serious abandonment issues though ;)

He doesn't talk much about how he ended up in the shelter...he had been there so long his time was nearly up and I just couldn't let that happen. And even though he hasn't shared his life story with me yet he is a great listener and seems to be just what our little family needed

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Monday, January 16, 2012

real nurse

I will be a great nurse for my patients
The best momma to my son
and an excellent friend.

Starting. right. now.

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Saturday, January 14, 2012

all I need...

Cherry lozenge, sunshine, deep cleaning and a a few more letters after my name.

R.N. = "real nurse" y'all.

Hopefully this is the beginning of something great...

I am aware that I haven't made much ado about the completion of nursing school. The thrill of closing this chapter in my life was vastly overshadowed by my heart physiologically becoming dysrythmic and spiritually being shut out and left behind.

At dinner this evening, a friend I haven't seen in nearly a year asked me why I wasn't celebrating my incredible achievement (a valid question to someone not reading my blog). I didn't want to go into my dramatic details - trying instead to glide past the question and turn the topic to (of all things) Tim Tebow. A timely conversational diversion, is it not?   ;)

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deep cleaning...

Ahhhhh....more notes.   Seems never ending. And what to do with this one? Seems silly to return it, disrespectful to throw it out, and ridiculous to tuck in in a pair of jeans and send to goodwill.

I swear this woman has ruined love letters for all time...

Thursday, January 12, 2012


oh I wonder how much I have spent in therapy over the years...

It started when I was just 17. Moving farther south with my family from our home in South Carolina we passed through Macon, GA - where we decided to stop and revisit a former home. Seeing Macon again was not something I cared about, but my parents wanted to stop. They thought it would be "fun" to see where my sister and I had grown up...but I was surprised at how little I actually remembered from that time. My childhood home brought back few memories, a small brick house that looked just like the other boring houses on the block.

A neighbor walked across the street to say hello, and when I saw him I was instantly sick to my stomach. This young man (now 24 or so) had been the neighborhood bully, and had inflicted years of abuse on me. He had hit me, taunted me, and heartlessly explored my body while his fellow thugs held me down. I had completely blocked him and his cohorts from my mind for years and years, until seeing his cold, dark eyes brought it all crashing back. I ran across the yard, much like I was still 9 years old, and locked myself in the car while my parents made harmless small-talk.

I didn't tell my family why I ran to the car, and they had long grown tired of my moodiness and were happy not to ask what was the matter. Weeks later, when we arrived at our new home and were settled, I asked to see a therapist.

Of course my parent refused. Duh. But I persisted and finally they demanded to know what could be so wrong that required they "waste money for me to talk to someone". I told them I had been sexually abused by that neighborhood monster back in Macon...I had come to the conclusion that maybe that was the root of why I could never bring myself date. To a 17-year-old high school girl, not being interested in dating was a HUGE deal. I figured that bully had broken a part of me and I wanted it FIXED. But they still refused. They told me to just "get over it".

I ignored them and found a therapist on my own. She agreed to reduce her rate and I worked my butt off to scrape together my pennies to pay for it. She was an amazing help to me, and I am smiling just thinking of my time with her. It was hard work, and I left most sessions feeling exhausted and nearly hopeless. Nearly hopeless, but determined to get better.

I have always turned to a good therapist since then.

My therapist these days has her work cut out for her. Some days I feel just that same kind of hopelessness. Bless her heart though, my therapist is trying her best to get me through this heartbreak. This week, though, I cancelled my appointment after having a bit of an epiphany. A few days prior to cancelling I was putting on one of my cute new outfits and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror...I realized that maybe it's time to shift gears. Maybe rather than sitting on a couch crying about something I can't change, I should try to focus on what I could change. Putting on my awesome jeans made me feel special just for a moment...and maybe there is a time for talking and a time for shopping ;) No one ever says you have a cute ass after weeks of therapy. But they say it for the right pair of jeans!

So I made a list of what I would do if I weren't worried about money...and the top of the list was (wait for it, cause it seems nutty...) LASER HAIR REMOVAL!

I hate hate hate shaving, you see.

So I traded my therapy appointment for some very painful but much needed grooming. Let me tell ya, for that hour I certainly forgot all about my broken heart and focused instead on my tortured skin.

Next week I may get a pedicure. Or a massage.

Because getting OUT of my head might be a better plan than going deeper inside.

Just saying...

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

strange morning...

My son came into my room before 5:30 this morning - awoken from a thunderstorm. He wasn't scared, but he was wide awake and curled up next to me for some company. I am used to getting less than 4 hours sleep these days so I didn't even yell at him to leaving the sleeping bear alone ;)

So we laid there in the dark, listening to the rain and talking. He told me we needed to celebrate the end of my nursing school and he had the perfect idea...a trip to Disney world. He has never asked for a disney trip...and for that I am grateful. See, I am not really the disney type of soccer mom, though I get the appeal. So we have never been. We have been to Orlando a few times though and done other tourist type things: Sea World, Gator Land, Ripley's...but suddenly his heart is set on the mouse. Hopefully by the time I pick him up from school he will have forgotten this early morning desire and instead crave something more aligned with my taste like a zip-lining adventure or kayaking with manatees...we shall see.

Honestly, the way my luck has been going I would be scared to try a trip at the moment. I have a dark cloud around my head and can't shake it. Two days ago while on a grocery run I returned to my car to find a young FSU student leaving a note on my windshield. He had dinged the front of the volvo just "a touch". There wasn't any visible damage and he was thoughtful to think about leaving a note...but, the interesting thing about the incident was that he drove a Jeep Cherokee. Which just so happens to be the same model of car my last GF drives. Funny. Super funny. I think the poor guy was scared I was about to yell at him because of my intense look of shock...but of course it had nothing to do with him at all.

Today I pulled my laundry out of the dryer and realized I had left some VIP (very important paperwork) in the back pocket of my sexy new jeans. Paperwork that had taken me 3 days to acquire. Gone. Dissolved. Shredded little bits of signatures and stamps and fault though. My brain isn't working right.


So is my son is right? Is a trip to disney what I need? Half his class is out with the chickenpox it wouldn't hurt to skip school for a day or two. Can mickey banish these blues?

Happy 11th of the month y'all...just another day.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

ms. swift gets me...

and if one day someone so amazing sings a song like this to me, I'll be home. For real.

the stakes are high...the water's rough...

And here's praying for a love that stays.

Sunday, January 08, 2012

song sung blue

Today was a gorgeous day. Sunshine and 77 degrees. I have still been forbidden to off-road bike ride until the health insurance clears. And probably I should wait for my dysrhythmia to settle down also. It might be embarrassing to fall out on the trails due to diminished cardiac output weeks after winning an award for being an awesome nursing student ;)

I dropped off my son for some friend time and tried to accomplish as many errands as possible. It feels like I have basically ignored my real life for the last six months and I hardly even recognize my own house. My basic, essential supplies are gone....candles, printer paper, caffeine free diet coke and such. I made a list of what I needed to do, rolled down the car windows and turned the radio up as loud as the soccer mom transport vehicle could handle.

Basically looking totally rad blasting my pop music in the volvo wagon...

Song number one began not 45 seconds into my journey...if you look closely you can see me running a yellow light. Cause I am wild like that.

and the very next song? Was this...

So I switched to talk radio.

I have a good friend visiting from far away...and one of my new year's resolutions is to be more open with my friends. "No more secrets!" is the mantra for 2012. I kept alot of information from my closest friends about my most recent relationship. I knew what they would say if I shared how I felt...they would have warned me, told me to slow-down, tried to "reason" with me. In hindsight they would have been moving forward I will talk more candidly about the careless choices I have made and the very excellent ideas I currently have (like singing loud enough for Europe to hear or driving to Tampa). It is incredibly awkward to share this information. After all, I am normally a very logical and thoughtful person.

The consequences of having no more secrets is getting asked questions like "um, so, you are in therapy, right?". And feeling like a high school kid in the principal's office.

But back to the sunny day...I accomplished a few missions, caught up on the national news and now have all the windows of the house open. Today I am grateful for warm weather, good friends and a healthy son.

Happy Sunday y'all...

Thursday, January 05, 2012

breathe in for luck...

I was raised by feral wolves.

When my mother tells stories about raising her children (five of us in all) it brings a chill to the room. They always start with how "things were different back then..." As if back in the "old days" it was perfectly acceptable to let your 4 year old eat the entire bottle of baby aspirin (after all my mother had just stepped outside for ONE SECOND to talk with a neighbor and had NO idea little T could even OPEN that damn bottle so fast). And the tales always end the same also, with a "...I guess I should have called the doctor."

But we all survived to adulthood. None of us really like her all that much, but she did keep us alive so I guess she deserves some credit.

It's even more strange to look back on my childhood years through the lens of being a mom myself. Because I seem to have a naturally-given maternal instinct that was lacking in my own mother. I guess it skips a generation once in a while.

This morning was back to school for my little man. And silly, stressed-out, insomniac me set the alarm wrong.

So we awoke with about 4 minutes until the late bell.

My son took it in stride - got dressed in record time - and we zoomed off.

He was nervous about walking through those glass doors with a late pass (which he hasn't had to ever do) and having everyone stare at him. So we stopped for a moment before he went inside and talked it out...why he was nervous, what he could do to cope, that type of thing. He took a good long breath and walked in. Waving goodbye and ready to face the day.

I drove away thinking that maybe we learn how to survive in moments like this. We forge our coping skills from our parents mistakes, the hard times, moving through fears. Maybe I am such a good survivor because I was raised by the wolves. Because it is eat or be eaten in the pack.

So today, nervous as hell at the idea of walking through some of my own glass doors, I will breathe breathe breathe.

Wish me luck blogosphere - and at least I will be looking cute as I face some big-ass fear today ;)

Oh and look I found an acoustic version of the song describing the best day I can remember ever having...turning down tharpe and singing at full volume. That's my memory I am carrying through those doors today.

Wednesday, January 04, 2012

keep on believing...

This song has always held my heart steady during dark days...

It is strange on about 100 levels that it would be such a comfort to me.

Tonight I have listened to it nearly that many times.

Forgive the silly link since I couldn't find a better quality video to share...

angel doves

Yesterday my village sent me my own little angel dove (though I am pretty sure she would NOT approve of that sobriquet). A friend I hadn't seen in way, way, way too long swooped over here to my little house of grief unexpectedly. She took me out and reminded me that I was alive and cute and loved :)

And I am pretty damn sure I was wishing for just such a thing.

So today I put on a super cute pair of jeans that actually fit, AND a shirt made this year (free of stains and rips). I ran my errands kind of feeling like a runway model. Well maybe a tomboy runway model. No...more like a model for a lesbian cruise vacation - but whatever, you get the idea. I felt special. So special that I changed clothes before I started cleaning. Cause I think that is what people who have nice shit do. They don't spill comet on it.

And tomorrow? Well I have a new outfit for tomorrow too folks - and a really special fuzzy zip-up hoodie to keep out the chill.

And though I may still be faking it til it's real...after yesterday that idea actually seems a little more possible.

so thank you...I needed a little bit of hope right about now.