Feelings...the analogy.

Sometimes, it really isn't you, it's them.

Sometimes you JUST don't understand & have to accept that you never will.

Sometimes you get to hurt... But at least you're feeling. Tears are a sign that you're alive, breathing & feeling. It's what they wait for when you're born...to hear you cry. It says you're human. It says you're alive. When you're a child, you don't know why you cry or why it hurts, you just know it does. You don't know what you're feeling, good or bad. You just know when it's good, you like it & when it's bad, you cry. When you grow up, you start connecting your emotions. You identify them with actions, consequences & situations. You acknowledge them, try not to let them drive you around or you get lost... But you sure as shit don't handcuff them, gag them & stuff them in the trunk & pretend they don't exist. Because they do. They exist & if you pretend they don't, they're back there screaming to get out, crying, begging & pleading. Some people do that, however. They shove their emotions in the trunk, turn the radio up & keep driving. The screams get louder, they're crying & driving around & end up somewhere & they're not sure how. What they don't realize is, no matter how high you turn up the music or try to block them out, they're still there. Then, all of a sudden, they're overwhelmed & disconnected. The tears, the pain, the love... But they can't feel it because they don't know how, they've kept it locked in the trunk far too long.

I'm happy to say my emotions, my feelings sit in the passenger seat, perhaps intoxicated, attempting to take over the steering wheel at times. But I can see them, deal with them, occasionally they distract me. Sometimes I forget to put a seatbelt on them to keep them safe, sometimes they give shitty directions... But they pick the best music & have made for some of the most unforgettable, unregrettable trips/journeys of my life.

Happy Valentines Day...bitches

"Society makes you believe that you need to have someone to be complete. I do have someone... I have me - finally" - Me

Yes, I quoted myself.

With Valentines Day approaching, I have heard such debate about being single versus being in a relationship. The most recent is a friend of mine is catching a lot of flack for posting "single status updates" on Facebook, which quite frankly, pisses me off. People in a relationship can post their fluffy "I am happier than Jesus riding Santa's sleigh to a unicorn party" posts, but you cannot do the same for being single? Isn't the point to be happy? Why does it have to be in a relationship? Why is everything so fucking categorized? Why does society tell us we have to be in a relationship or married to be doing the right things in life? Then you look at divorce rate or hear people complain about their spouse/partner and being cheated on or losing themself and think "WELL THAT SOUNDS FUCKING AWESOME!"...nope. So, you are condemning me for NOT being in something that is set up to fail? That makes complete sense.

Our inner dialogue...that we do not even know we are having likely, sounds like this: "I am attracted to them, I should probably be in a relationship with them. I have been in a relationship with them for a while, we should probably get married. We are married, we should probably have kids."

Hey inner dialogue, shut the fuck up.

MY NEW INNER DIALOGUE: "Are you happy? Yes? Do that."

If you are married or in a relationship and it works, great... zippetydoodahday for you. That is AWESOME. But for those of us who are not, stop making us feel bad. Stop asking to set us up. Stop asking if we are seeing anyone YET. Maybe we are, maybe we are not, why does it MATTER... shouldn't you be asking us "are you happy?"

I will celebrate Valentines Day because for the first time in YEARS, I am loving myself and I've got some new inner dialogue going. And I am HAPPY, yes, happy. With my nonconventional, non-label wearing, not society approved, out of the norm life... being happy.


So Happy Valentines Day. I hope you all are happy, no matter what your situation.

Too much

The only thing worse than being told you don't care, is being told that you care too much.

It means that what you care so deeply for, doesn't care that much about you.

If someone tells you that you don't care, it just means you are not doing a good job of showing you care & can do better. You can change that.

The other leaves you feeling stupid. And vulnerable.

Fuck being vulnerable.

The Beast

DISCLAIMER: This poem is disturbing. And part of some way overdue therapy.


The Beast

He held her tight, she attempted to doze
The air was so cold, but her temperature rose
She cannot move or she’ll rouse the beast
If he wakes, he’ll turn to her for a feast.
Lying in the dark, ignoring her bladder
Wanting to run, but she knew that he’d have her
By the back of her hair if she tried it again
To the face, on the floor, hold her down and then
Don’t move, bitch. I am not done
Then close her eyes & pretend it was fun
Say my name, say you love it
In her face, he would spit
Tears and she proclaimed her love
Internally cursing the lord above
His nails digging in to her wrists
Felt better than digging between her hips
Haha cry bitch, cry you whore
That means you just want more
Her hands pinned, can’t wipe the tears
Her heart pounds, can’t hide the fears
But he sleeps now, she has to pee still
Don’t move or he’ll rouse & she might have to kill
Her spirit inside, while he’s inside her
Pretend to sleep, he mustn’t stir
Her heart pounds, Can’t wake the beast.
Her bladder screams, Or he’ll have his feast.

Christmas Letter

Dear friends and family,

2011 has been like most years, life happened & time flew by. I would really be quite the narcissist if I believed you wanted all the gory details.

My children have grown & I am very proud of the young men they are turning in to.

Lots of people got married or had a baby, I did neither (yea me). Lots of people had accomplishments & successes, again, I did neither (yea them).

I pretty much maintained. I aged, gained some weight, increased my alcohol tolerance, & got a few haircuts.

I admitted I am terrified of cotton balls & discovered coconut really doesn't go with anything and it is not yummy.

I chipped my tooth on a fork, and stained it with copious amounts of coffee. I bought a new pair of pants for myself & grew too fat for them in record time.

I trained for the Warrior Dash, which I completed in a decent time... Then quickly retreated from the gym & lost all motivation to ever do any form of running again...unless it is to the fridge to grab a beer.

I also did a flashmob that I choreographed, which was incredible. Then the moment it was over, it was like it never existed & I was exhausted.

A few days later I turned 33 and my oldest went in to high school. He discovered weed & choices. I discovered more beer and wine.

I quit smoking, started again, quit again, started and then quit... That was a few Tuesdays ago tho.

I got a cat, his name is Seven. Mostly, I can't stand him, but for some reason I take pictures of him and post them on Facebook. That's what you're supposed to do, right? He makes me furious, but occasionally he is sweet and he makes me laugh. So, who needs a man, right?

My ex successfully reached new all time lows... So he can be proud of his new record. He still has not sent me all the thank you cards I deserve for not killing him. But I know in my heart he is grateful.

I started a Twitter account, gained nearly 4200 followers, then had to give it up cause some people thought it may be mildly inappropriate. I personally feel coming up with ways to more effectively masturbate and wishing death upon Ryan Seacrest is incredibly helpful... I thought I deserved a humanitarian award quite frankly.

I lost a bunch of money, worked really hard and made it work. So while my 2011 was rather meh on paper, I'm sitting here in a house, I have a job & my boys & I are as tight as we have ever been. I am happy being Meh.

Meh-rry Christmas!

Bring it 2012.

Cookies

I was invited today to make cookies with one of the hockey moms on my son's team.

I dreaded it.

I pulled in to her neighborhood and I felt like I had no place there. My car filthy... I reaked of booze from the night before and stale cigarettes. The houses were huge, the yards flawless...and there I was. Dry faced and unshowered. Completely out of place.

I pulled up to her driveway...Christmas had vomited all over their home. I was immediately horrified. I rang the bell and she came to the door covered in frosting.

She welcomed me in, as did the small people dancing around my toes shrieking in delight for cookies. The Christmas train roared in my hungover...potentially still drunk brain. I immediately wanted to flee.

Her nieces and nephews and mother and husband and her two boys and their friends paraded throughout the home in the most peaceful chaos. She handed me an apron & some dough & I began to roll out the dough. A small person wanted to help... And by help I mean take over the entire project and not listen to any direction.

Typically, this would have made me nuts. Typically, in this situation, having a rolling pin in my hand would not have ended well.

This time, it did not.

Flour and sprinkles exploded everywhere. Miscut cookie shapes, horrifying amounts of frosting, and the most amazing excitement radiated from the kids right in to my bahumbugged heart.

The family operated like a dance. Baking and trains and hockey games and nerd fights and light saber battles and joy. Pure joy.

All of a sudden, I got it.

It wasn't about fucking cookies, it was about the joy. It wasn't about keeping the house clean, or making the perfect cookie or doing it just so or staying quiet or any of that. It was about joy.

It was about family. It was about coming together to make gifts for people in your life. It was about working together. It was about just fucking joy.

So, while I left with 87 cookies or so... I also left with something far more delicious...joy. And the quest for more.

Family

We are all family.

All of us.

Some of us black sheep that are always in trouble.

Some of us are loud and obnoxious.

Some of us are the givers, some of us the takers.

Some of us quiet, some of us loud.

Some self centered. Some completely unhelpful & lazy.

Some are kind.

Some are sad.

Some are hateful.

Some go to church.

Some talk too much.

But we are all family.

I love you all. You're all welcome & accepted, because you're family.

I'd hug you all, no matter what you've done, like it's the last time I'll see you again...every time.

Family.

I love all members.