In which I see blood...

I spent over an hour of my time this morning, digging out my car. I don't like to do it but hey, I live in a state that sometimes gets dumped with snow in the winter. It's nothing new so I just try to roll with it. The same way I roll with the 100* weather we sometimes get in the summer. So I'm outside, digging, shoveling, sweating, and hurting. I have a small sidewalk that leads to a parking lot so I shovel that plus around my car. My neighbor who is parked beside me was out too. I don't make small talk with her because she is the one who owns the yippy dog that barks the ENTIRE time they are gone and sometimes while they are home...I don't want it to get ugly and if I start, I might not be able to stop. SO... She is taking her sweet time 'shoveling' on her driver side, which is my passenger side. I've completly dug out my driver side, cleaned off my car and was working on shoveling up that mess when she tries to make small talk with me. (Mind you, she is STILL working on the tiny strip beside her drivers' side door at this point) Her: *awkward giggle* I've never been taught how to shovel. We always had a garage, or paid someone to do it. Me: *the look* Seriously?? This is what you choose to say to me while I'm working my ass off to make sure I not only clear out my spot, but don't muck up the spot beside me? Here's a tip sweethart. See that flat end on the shovel? Point it toward the snow, and dig. When you're done, make sure you turn it around and smack yourself in the face with it. Then while you are laying on the ground bleeding, I'm going to kill your dog and use your shovel to dig him a hole to rot in. Don't worry, I'll make sure it's on YOUR side of the grass and not mine.

In which I raise my voice to be heard.

I am weird. My entire life I've known this. I've never felt normal or included and for the most part, I am okay with that. Because for all of the weird and strange things that go through my mind, come out of my mouth or play out in some type of physical manifestation through my body, I have never feared physical harm from society for being this strange. Sure I was picked on, called names, yelled at and generally made to feel like an outsider. Especially during my school years, and it hurt like hell. But somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it had to get better. I counted on the fact that at some point in my elder years (ya know, like 20) I would be admired for my individuality. I didn't have a lot of role models, but I just had a gut feeling that it would all work out. Imagine if you never saw the light at the end of that tunnel. Imagine if you lived out all of your days as a lie. Imagine knowing that if your secret were revealed, you would surely face more than just ridicule; you could quite possibly be in mortal danger. Imagine never being acknowledged. Imagine never having your voice heard. Imagine feeling less than human. Everyone in this world deserves to be counted. It doesn't matter what hangs or doesn't hang between your legs. It doesn't matter how much pigment lies within your skin. It doesn't matter what God you pray to, or if you pray at all. It doesn't matter if your hair is gray. It doesn't matter if your pant size is a double digit. It doesn't matter if you're poor. It doesn't matter who you love. The same blood flows within all of our veins. The same dust is inevitable when we die. And on it will go on for thousands of years. I can only hope that at some point, we consider ourselves equal to our neighbors.

The idea of reflection

So it seems that Sundays are turning into my day of reflection for the week's past. I'm cool with that. Perhaps I'll learn something new about myself in the process. Until then, here is what I learned this week. Bronchitis sucks. I mean, I already knew that, but I thought it beared repeating. Z-paks are the best medical invention ever. Why take a pill everyday for 10 days when you can be done in 5? And since I seem to have less sinus infections since my mouth surgery, I don't fear immunity as much as I used to. Mucinex is a double edged sword. It's intended job is to break up the mucus that lingers in the lungs. And for that it works wonders. However, it smells horrible and even worse, it makes my pee smell worse than it would had I consumed a barrel full of asparagus. *blech* The dishes will not go anywhere. In fact, they waited for me all week. I know, it's gross. But honestly I don't really care. When I'm too tired and feel like I've been hit by a Mac truck, it is not worth pushing myself to clean. All of my imaginary friends are british. I actually already knew that, but I've never mentioned it so I thought it fit in well here. And I love that they keep me company especially when I'm high with fever and hacking up 1/2 a lung. They truly do love me. Considering that at least 4 out of the last 7 days I was barely coherent, I was not creative in the least. So double negative whammy points for me. Nor was I in any condition to Zumba although thanks to no appetite I might have actually lost weight. Not the best way to do it, but I'm taking it. I also finished the first in the Sookie Stackhouse series from Charlaine Harris, "Dead until Dark". Not my favorite book ever, but with encouragement and good reviews from friends, I'll give the second book a shot. I've been told that it continues to get better so I'll hang in there. That's about all. Now, I wonder what next week holds...

The Double-entendre

Before our awesome meal at The Olive Garden tonight (where Ryan almost threw up his pizza), we stopped and exchanged some duplicated Christmas gifts. One of them we had to return for cash, so he decided to get a Harry Potter Lego set. It's a smaller one, of the infamous Quidditch scene from 'The Chamber of Secrets'. It has Madame Hooch, Oliver Wood, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and Marcus Flint figures in it. Two guys from Gryffindor, two from Slytherin and the 'ref'. On the way home from dinner, Ryan was talking about building the set and how we were going to play with it. He says to me... "Mom, I'll be Harry and you can be Wood." "Okay buddy, whatever you say." "Mom, do you like Wood?" It was really hard to keep my giggling to myself. Get it? Really HARD? I cannot stop myself!

The weekend of karaoke, Scene It, and crazy ho's

This week was rough. Every single day I either woke up with, or went to bed with a headache. I got some dis-heartening news at work. (Which I will not repeat here since some of my co-workers read my blog.) And I felt more tired this week than I have in a very long time. Not to mention that the writing every day thing went horribly wrong since last Tuesday. But I don't feel bad about it and I'll tell you why. I had an INCREDIBLE weekend! Friday night I met up with an old friend and not only got re-acquainted with her, but we talked about things that I've never repeated to anyone. It felt great to get some things off of my chest. I only hope I didn't interrupt her too much and she felt as though I was truly listening. Because I was. Then after some venting, we met up with some new-to-me friends and did a lil karaoke! Lori and Kevin are hilarious and were a lot of fun to get to know. Plus Kevin gave me something nice to look at all night. (shhh...don't tell him I said that...lol) I didn't get home and into bed until 3am but it was worth it. Saturday I slept in (AWESOME!!!), did a little cleaning and laundry, tried out Zumba on the Wii (which is fun by the way) and got my ass ready to go hang with some friends for game night. It was a wonderful night full of good food, old friends, new friends, and laughs that didn't seem to end. Not to mention the fact that the ladies KILLED it in Scene It and Trivial Pursuit DVD game. We did lose the 80's Scene It game but not by much so that doesn't really count...LOL I not only had a great time, I learned some things as well. Will is a sore loser, but extremely funny. (and a very gracious 2nd house host) Jenny hits really hard. (and is included in the gracious host category as well) Liam is adorable!! Lisa knows everything there is to know about River Phoenix. Frank's accent gets thicker when he drinks. Mark will do anything for his wife, including 'wine runs' and starting the car when it's cold. Marisa loves food. (I see a future as a chef!) Celena knows all the words to 'The Breakfast Club' And the last awesomest thing I learned this weekend is that literal video's are fucking hilarious.

Not fearing 'The Change'

I'm tired of feeling crappy about my life. SO... I'm making a change. The key to a successful change (I think) is small steps. Think small in order to paint a larger picture, in the end! Sounds good, right? One of the things I want to change is not being afraid of doing the things that I'm good at. I am a creative person; always have been. What's great about being creative is that there are so many things that fall into that category. Acting, singing, dancing, writing, scrapping, blogging, photography, videography, etc. All of these things I enjoy. Some I am good at, some I am just okay at, and some I am really, really good at. All of them bring me joy. But it's impossible to do all of these things while being a single, working mother. I can't really break into song and dance at work without the fear of being escorted out of the front door. And monologues in the lunch room (while both fun and possibly funny) are not the way to move up in the fastener business. So...I've decided to stick to writing for now. I can do it anywhere! So I am making a committment to write something, every day for the month of January. My rules are as follows: 1. I must write SOMETHING for at least 15 minutes. 2. It doesn't have to be good, it just has to be. 3. While writing I am not to worry about spelling and grammar, just write. 4. Have fun It won't matter if I'm writing long hand, typing or bloggin...I just have to write. Perhaps next month I'll delve into something else!

Rock bottom is a great foundation.

The last few years have sucked. Just plain ole crappy shit times. So... What if I made this, the year that I do things that scare the fuck out of me? In no particular order, of course.