Why do you choose your pain
If you only knew
How much I love you, Love youI won’t be your winter
I won’t be anyone’s excuse to cry
and we can be forgiven
And I will be here.Old picture on the shelf
Well it’s been there for a while
Frozen image of ourselves
We were acting like a childYou read my eyes just like your diary
Oh remember, please remember… Continue reading
A person must know they have said something offensive when they follow a their comment up with:
oh, I hope that didn’t offend you
that there comment was likely offensive?
It’s official… I’m a New Englander.. again and am over the moon about it. Lover and I made the 500 mile journey on July 14th 2012. It all fell together rather quickly, within 90 days really. First the amazing job came (for her) and after two visits up north she had the deal sealed. The house came on visit number too — and what a house it is – everything I could have dreamed of and more.
It was time really, this move, we’ve grown out of our surroundings, downsized a year and half ago, lover unhappy in her work, me just kind of stagnant and flailing both creatively and emotionally. A change was much needed for both of our souls and goodness has it already showed itself what a world of good it will be.
(Culture shock #26 these bugs are as big as our new house!)
Lover started her job today and I am on the search for a job as well!
I’ve sent out countless resumes and though I hear the clock ticking (and the bank account dwindling) I am oddly at peace with the fact that a good job will come my way. I have my first interview tomorrow at 3PM.. if you happen to remember, I would love some good juju thrown my way.
(Culture shock #62 there is BARELY any litter on any of the roads I travel)
We’re currently cable and internet-less (other than our phones) so I am currently updating this blog from the New Salem Public Library. A charming building that used to be a two-room schoolhouse and has since been updated. It is nestled in our charming little town-square next to an old cemetery and an old Academy building. I love it, it’s quiet and peaceful and I only had to stalk one teenage boy to get off the computer so I could use it 😉 The young man is lucky I’m nice and didn’t log into his facebook since he left his information saved.
(Culture shock #16 the people I’ve met are mostly kind and trustworthy – I hope this doesn’t end!)
I’m happy. Really, delighted and toe-curling happy. I’ll update more later on, just wanted to get back in the swing of writing.
I’ve stirred myself into quite the fine drink today. I’ve felt anxious, sad and worried since yesterday. There are a multitude of things going on in my life now and it seems that they are all on the list of top ten stressors. I can’t complain because I know that the end result of it all is going to make me happier than I have been.
My beloved Carrie’s brother will be wed this Saturday. It is a joyous occasion for them and I am over the moon that he has found such an amazing woman and companion to share his life with. It’s bittersweet to be back with her family when she is not. I almost feel though I am going there on her behalf, for him… and I don’t know if that makes any sense. Either way I’m feeling real emotional about this and am trying to rein myself in.
The last time I shared space with Carrie she looked at me wistfully with tears in her eyes and said “you have everything I ever wanted.” I didn’t think about that statement at the time but those words haunt me so very much. Those words are a big reason I know cannot complain about anything my life because at least I have one.
Tough stuff you know?
In twenty-three days we’re moving five states and 471 miles away, starting new jobs, renting a large house and will be celebrating our 6th anniversary two weeks before we leave. We plan to wed within a year.
There’s lots of life being lived right now and I’m doing my very best to embrace all that it brings, even if that means feeling it a little more intensely than usual. It’s all such a delicate balance.
It’s funny what memories can do to you.
I had breakfast with Lynn, my late best friend Carrie’s mother on my birthday back in February. My gift from her was her company and three photographs of my beloved girl. Two were photos of us together. The photo below stopped me in my tracks. Made my heart stop beating, made it a little hard to breathe.
On first glance there are four things that are very obvious to me: we were really happy that day, she is ALIVE, I am safe and I have come very far from those days. It was the last time we would be that happy in our friendship. Things would change very drastically in just one month from the time this photo was taken.
Do you ever have an outfit that you just love so much, one that is your favourite to wear? That summer that swimsuit and those cutoffs were mine. I wore it all the time. On August 30th 1997 it was also the outfit I was raped in. I was eighteen years old.
That swimsuit and those shorts were ripped off of my body by a man that was nearly four times my size. A man whom I said no and regardless of whether or not I was a) in a swimsuit b) intoxicated and c) friendly it was not my fault. Took me a long time to be able to say that. I have not ever dealt with it, I mean, how does one do that anyways? It’s always been part of me but it’s not something I go running around announcing. It’s done, it’s over.
This photo however brought it all back and put a lot of things about my life in perspective.
I broke both of our hearts and ran away to New England eight months after that happened. Things never really were the same between us, we ebbed and flowed…
This post is all over the place and maybe that’s because right now, in this moment I am too. We’re coming up on the one year anniversary of her passing. It hurts. Memories like this hurt even more. It really sucks.
I am relaxing in a quiet, cozy home drinking a glass of nice wine (Rascal, a Pinot Noir from Oregon) and listening to Damien Rice.
Lover is out for drinks with a friend and I am contemplating a eulogy for my carnival goldfish that lived for 7 full years.
I won that damn goldfish at a carnival that set up in a parking lot outside of the dirtiest K-Mart you ever did see. He was the size of my pinky when I got him and when he took his last breath yesterday he was the size of my forearm. Swear it. He survived three different homes; made the first move in a small bag; the second in a Tupperware container and the final move in a five gallon home depot bucket. He made buddies in his life, first there was Jesus, who died and was resurrected after Easter (true story) and then his best mate, Merlin, a pop-eyed black fin fancy who won us all over from first gulp. Damn he was a cool ass fish.
I’ll be honest when he began living year after year I felt like he had the kind of magic that mouse had in the green mile. Then a few months ago a boy child visited us and said “wow he looks so sad” and that made my heart hurt and it really resonated with my love. After that comment I started to notice that Pisces was old. He was like a little old man, blind in one eye, slower, not as neurotic but still responsive to us outside the tank. When I saw him sideways in the tank yesterday I ran and hid behind a corner and hollered for my beloved that he was dead (or dying.) She walked out, sighed heavily and agreed that he was indeed dying. It took an hour for him to head on (under the Rainbow Bridge?) Lover held him gently to keep him upright, we turned the filter off (so quiet) and then he just died.
He wouldn’t fit in a checkbook box so we put him in an organic water-cracker box and buried him in our garden.
There will be no more fish in our house, after our young friends’ comment we have decided it’s just not right for fish to live inside glass cages. Well it’s not for us anyways, not anymore.
So RIP Pisces – I was proud and happy to have you for as long as I did.
That’s my Pisces showing his hiney as he often did… that’s his mate Merlin on the left. Better days.
• restful and productive weekends
• a clean house
• quiet time among the trees
• the joy and tastiness of REAL food.
• good finds at the thrift store
• courage (to take risks)
• my lover and best friend Jennifer
Last Sunday would have been my friend Carrie’s 34th birthday. I felt emotional and sad and wanted desperately to just pull the covers up and hide for the entire day. I didn’t know how to handle it. My boss, an amazing woman suggested sending her a card; so I did. It was a comedy of sorts though and I just have to wonder if Carrie was watching me from wherever she is giggling with and at me. I purchased three balloons for her, one was a pretty mylar heart that said “You’re so Special” the other a round mylar that said “Happy Birthday” and finally just a pretty purple one with stars all over. I purchased a befitting card… well I guess befitting since Birthday Cards are traditionally for folks that are still living, on this earth you know… and not just in our hearts. Anyways. I knew I wanted to go to my favourite park in Springfield so I made the drive; snuck onto their little dock (it’s locked in the winter time) and lo and behold my darn balloons would not fly. I was devastated. Bummed.. by now sun was setting and I had really wanted to do it in the light, right before it got dark. I got back into my car and decided I knew exactly where I could find a big balloon that would indeed get my card to her.
I pulled into the Ford dealership near my house, my heart was pounding like crazy. I went to the service desk and asked the young, not-even-twentysomething if I could have a big balloon. Her co-worker looked at me strangely and said she would go check. When she left I kind of had a moment with the young girl (who later introduced herself as Jessica) and told her I was just trying to get a card to my friend who had passed away. She welled up and told me her friends funeral was later that night; we commiserated while waiting for the other girl. Then… POP… a balloon just burst and I kind of giggled. Another loud POP and the co-worker stuck her head out, red faced and giggling. Third time was a charm and she gifted me with a big, beautiful red balloon. I thanked them profusely.
Oddly, or perhaps not so, my favourite “go-to” park was right behind the dealership and so I drove there, parked and walked to my favourite tree… you know the one I’m talking about, the one that holds all my secrets. I said a few words and let the balloons go. My heart was big, so big. I miss her so much and I ache for her mother, father and brother as well. I have so many questions, so many emotions… some not so pretty. I know her passing is not something I will ever get over…
Anyways, I did take a photograph of the balloons flying away. Then I did an edit and merged a piece of the words on the card onto the top of the photo. I really like the way it came out… I feel like it truly expresses all of my feelings in that moment, on that day.
The saying holds a great reminder for all of us still lucky to be here on this earth. Don’t let one moment pass, it is a blessing… enjoy each moment as if it is a little life. So precious.
If you are who you hang with and you don’t hang with many does that mean you are an original? Just thinkin’
This old house
I used to live here. I cried, laughed, broke in and out, fell in love…or what I thought was love, healed, fell apart and really lived.
I’m nostalgic today. Right now as I type I am parked in the old driveway and somewhere on the wind I hear my best friends laughter from a long long time ago.
everything lovely & good 