Daily Challenge For Jens Sake Day 3

Daily Challenge Day 3… The hardest challenge that ever was! The sun is disappearing as the sky has gone black. The Apocalypse has arrived and it’s in the form of a daily challenge. *SHRIEKS* “The end of the world is coming, the end of the world is comingggg.”

Today’s Daily Challenge Saturday Sep. 03, 2011

Emotional Health

EVERYDAY WELL-BEING
Donate or throw away 1 pair of old shoes or boots that you no longer wear.

How to do it
Find the oldest, most outdated, clunkiest pair of shoes in your closet. You know, the ones with an inch of dust on them. Put them on. Walk around the house in them. If you’re still unsure whether you should get rid of them, snap a photo of your feet and send it to a friend. Have her give you three reasons to get rid of them. Then put them in your donation bag (or toss if damaged).

Why it matters
Closet real estate is king, and way too valuable to have it taken up by shoes that we no longer wear. By ridding your closet of old, unused shoes, you will have the room to be better organized. This will facilitate wearing what you have, taking better care of it and getting dressed faster, thus eliminating the mad dash for the door every morning. And you will never again be frustrated by not being able to find a pair of shoes that you just KNOW are in there.

Fun Fact
A shoe by any other name… Zapata (Spanish), Chaussure (French), Schuhe (German), Pantofi (Romanian), Schoen (Dutch), Scarpa (Italian)

When I read this challenge I began to panic and scream… “NOOOOOOO, not my shoes!!!” Vomiting soon ensued as I sat holding my stomach. I was ill! OMG, the horror, the utter nerve… This challenge should be deemed illegal. Call 911, call the CIA, someone get GOD on the phone right NOW…I want to add a commandment; Thou shall not EVER make a woman get rid of her shoes!!! This is unjust, this is unfair, this is highway robbery and I will NOT stand for it…

Everyone knows women love their shoes. There is a void deep inside the center of our very soul that can only be filled with shoes. I have accumulated too many shoes to count let alone to wear but, it is my God given right as an American citizen to have them, dammit… Do you hear me? MY RIGHT to have a cluttered chaos of chic shoes! I am no Carrie Bradshaw but, this is just not right.

As a child I had 3 pair of shoes. Not because we were poor but, because I grew up in a 3rd world trailer under the tyranny of dictators. I had a dress pair of shoes for those times I was forced to go to church with my grandparents. Or for when I had to dress up for Choir. Or whatever other thing I had to do that required me looking like a girl. Phooey!!! Most of the time those dress shoes were penny loafers. I was an 80’s kid stuck in the goodwill shopping lane.

My second pair of shoes… sneakers, usually Converse or Chuck Taylors. Back in the 80’s and early 90’s they were the only shoe made in America. Dad was strict about his buy only American-made products policy. There was no name-brand designer anything in our home or on our bodies. And God forbid we bought something with our own hard earned money because to the trash it would go. Damn, tyrants!!
Then along came NAFTA (North America Free Trade Agreement) and last I saw his household wore Reebok. Guess our years of sticking it to the man and only buying what was made in our country wasn’t enough to stop NAFTA from happening. Good luck finding anything made in the USA now. Hypocrites!!

My third pair of shoes were Converse as well. They were gym shoes for school and when summer came they would become my new everyday pair. I spent most of my childhood barefoot though until I was older and started working and practicing softball and basketball all the time. Oh and lest I forget the dreaded huge moon boots I was forced to wear during the winter because we lived up in NeverStopsSnowingVille!!! It was called Fairview or UpNorth to the city-slicker Michaganders, because it was the northern part of the Lower Peninsula. Yeeehawwww I tell you. YEEEEFRICKINHAW!!! Anyway, back to my shoe challenge.

So as soon as I escaped “Little Germany” and got married, I began my shoe collecting. Awww, shoes. So calming, so refreshing, so soothing to my inner demon that just happens to have 6 feet…which is why I need more shoes than I can possibly wear. LOL

I began with my slippers basket. This way I could work my way up to shoes and if all else fails I can “fib” and say I did it because slippers are kind of like shoes, right? I dumped my basket on the floor and stared. A single tear dropped my eye as I picked up slipper after slipper and made that life changing decision to toss or keep. Out of 10 pairs, I kept 2. The rest I tossed, they were old, tattered and torn, a few broken… just like my heart. I cannot do this… Lord give me strength!

35 pairs of flip-flops, 20 tossed… HELP ME!! Next, 60 pairs of high heels, sneakers and boots, 1 pair tossed. Sorry but, I cannot throw away those. I did throw away a pair of Skechers that I bought when I lived in Chicago right before I moved out here. That was approximately 8 years ago so I can let those ones go.

Phew… I am not as stressed now, could be because I didn’t get rid of anything still in top condition. I can tell you this though, my shoes are now back to organized status. My closet on the other hand is still in need of a makeover but, two baskets of shoes are no longer in there, so it’s a start. So what are YOU waiting for??
It’s your turn. Join in on the Daily Challenge; Facebook it, Blog it, Live it, Love it!!!

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If I Weren’t Oneirophobic

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I had a dream, that all men and women lived without fear. But, alas it was a figment of my imagination because I am Oneirophobic (fearful of dreams or dreaming).

I am an insomniac because I am scared to sleep (Somniophobia) because I know what is coming…dreams. Hi, my name is Jen and I am a Phobic.

Dreams don’t allow me to feel refreshed, they don’t allow me to have inner peace, and they keep me in a heightened state of confusion, worry, and paranoia.

I have never been a person who could sleep at the drop of a hat. I lay awake staring at the night sky. Technically, I lay awake watching the sun come up and when the rest of the world is beginning their day I am ending mine or wishing it would end.

Many people on the planet are this way. Most of my family is this way; the term for us is “night owls.” Although, I can’t begin to understand why the hell you need to say night, everyone knows owls are nocturnal. But, what can you do? The world isn’t exactly brimming with the most intelligent of catch-phrases, is it?

When I finally fall asleep at night or early morning, I dream. We all dream, I don’t usually remember my dreams. It’s actually quite common for people not to remember what they have dreamt about. Dream experts say it is because of sleep apnea and the stages of sleep that make some of us skip REM sleep. REM sleep is the deep sleep/dream phase.

I haven’t seen a sleep expert or a dream expert for that matter. I, in my own right, am an expert about my own sleeping and dreaming patterns though. I believe my lack of remembering dreams stems from my personal experience with premonitions at an early age and my ability to remember my past life. Not exactly my past life per se but, my past death. I drowned, it was traumatic. It is the catalyst for my fear of water (Aquaphobia).

I was 4 years old when I would have recurring nightmares. I would wake up screaming every single night. Later in life I found out they were premonitions and past memories. Pretty scary for a child if you ask me.

This may sound odd to some of you and a few of you may get exactly where I am coming from. Dreams not only allow you to fantasize and see the future or past; they allow you to work out the deeper struggle between your mind and your heart. I have conflict going on in my everyday life! Then again, who doesn’t?

Those deeper struggles have me caught between reality and paranoid delusion. Frightening, isn’t it? I know that there is no logical reason to be scared but, try explaining that to the panic-induced anxiety attacks I end up having when I see a spider. (Arachnophobia) Try sitting in a room with me as I am curled up in the fetal position on my couch sobbing like an infant, shaking intensely, and gasping for air and words. Better yet try understanding why it is that I became afraid of them in the first place. I truly don’t know when it happened, it just appeared one day out of nowhere; much like those creepy buggers do.

All of these phobias I carry with me all stem from the same place; my vivid imagination and my non-stop worrying that something bad is going to happen and I won’t be able to protect myself or my children. You know, like when you dream someone is chasing you and you can’t run or scream? I am terrified of water but, I can swim. I learned late in life but, I did learn. I am scared that one of the kids will drown because I won’t be able to save them, that I will somehow forget how to keep my own head above water. You see… paranoid and vivid imagination. I suffer from premature worry, which is most likely the reason I have been going grey since I was 19 years old.

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It doesn’t stop there though. My fear of heights (Acrophobia) or rather my fear of falling; (Batophobia) is also something that came out of nowhere. I was a young girl and my mom took us to Hurley Hospital in Flint for the 4th of July, where her friend worked. We went up to the roof to watch the fireworks; my little sister and brother were with us. I freaked out the entire time because I was petrified one of them would fall. I stood in the middle of the roof refusing to move until it was time to leave; you could say I was paralyzed. In all honesty, if one of my siblings had gone too near the edge, instinct and adrenaline would have kicked in. But, try telling that to my paranoia.

I get dizzy in high places or on stairs where you can see the basement or ground below. I am well aware of the height, I immediately begin losing it.I have fallen down many stairs in my life and broken many toes, yet I am not scared of the stairs (Climacophobia) just the height and the falling.

I believe motion sickness to be a huge part of my fear of heights. I know motion sickness is not a phobia but, fear of motion is (Kinesophobia). I have had terrifying moments because of the motion sickness though.

As a young child, before we knew I had motion sickness I was on a merry-go-round. The children who were all older than me decided to spin it super fast. I had been wrapped up in a towel because my father had taken me to the beach. Next thing you know I woke up on the ground with my dad standing over me, helping me up. I had gotten so dizzy I let go and flew off the merry-go-round. The inconsiderate children just kept running and spinning, stepping on me as they passed. Turned out, dad too has motion sickness and now we knew I had to stay off of twirling/spinny things.

It took a matter of minutes to find out I would have to abandon a swing because I would start to feel ill. I also had a very difficult time riding in cars because I was likely to vomit if the trip was too long. So then, I became scared of vomiting (Emetophobia) because vomiting is one of the most embarrassing things that you can do in public; besides soiling yourself, that is. At least I didn’t turn Amaxophobic (fearful of riding in cars).

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I never thought of myself as a scaredy cat but, as you can see I am scared of many things that cause me great anguish and sleepless nights. Why? All because I worry prematurely and had children, guess that means I am afraid of being a bad parent.

What are you scared of? How do you handle the fear? Is it a panic inducing phobia or just a paranoid worry?

My Twin Nephews Turn 1 Today

One year ago today, I became an aunt for the 4th time when my sister Jessica gave birth to twin boys, Harley and Marley.

Of course I am an aunt to all my husband’s nieces and nephews as well but, this special post goes out for the birthday boys.

I haven’t gotten a chance to hold my nephews let alone spoil them rotten or even throw them a huge party. As sad as I am about that, I am much sadder that their mom isn’t there to do those things neither.

It’s hard to believe that it’s been 6 months already since Jess passed. It still feels so surreal to me. She would go M.I.A. for months at a time and if I don’t think about it too much it’s as if she is still here. But, when I see a movie or hear a song, I get slapped back into reality. She’s gone and isn’t coming back ever! That fucking sucks!!!

Jess left behind 4 beautiful children and it hurts my soul so much that I haven’t had a chance to spend the time that an aunt should get with her nieces and nephews. On top of that I don’t even have pictures. Well, luckily my mom has a chance to spend time with the boys and I can get pictures from her but, it’s just not the same as being there or taking the pictures yourself. I will take what I can get though because that’s what a loving aunt does… happily accepts what is offered her with a saddened heart but, keeps her tears hidden from the world and still says thank you.

But, today I won’t complain and I won’t cry because I can’t see my nephews on their first birthday. Instead, I will sob silently for my sister while the Happy Birthday song will loudly flow from my still grieving soul. I will sing so loud that the heavens will have no choice but, to open up and send angels down to sing along with me! 

Happy Birthday Harley and Marley… Your aunt Jenni loves you very much! And because your mom loved how crazy I could be and was so ecstatic every time I listened to New Kids On The Block… I must post a birthday video for you both so that you can know a small portion of your mom and my childhood memories.

No Pictures Please

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I hate having my picture taken…hate hate HATE it!!! I am always behind the camera, snapping away at everyone I know. But, here I am looking at all these pictures; some in boxes, some in computer files, some in albums and some on Facebook.

Where the Hell are my family portraits? Where are the goofy pictures of me and my siblings as adults? Why do I not have one single picture of my grandmother and me? In fact where is the mother/daughter pictures of my mom and me or my daughter and me? Where is the picture of me standing on a chair so my son and I can be the same height? Where are the happy couple pictures of my husband and I???

 

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I’m scared to be photographed! I’m Native American Indian…pictures will steal my soul, I will never be able to reincarnate, the light bulb demon that lives in the flash will break free and take over the planet… I cannot be responsible for that.

 

 

Ok, that’s not the real reason but, it might as well be because my reasoning is as silly as that is. My ridiculous ass never thought to take pictures of my sister when I was in Vegas in 2007 and now all I have of her is childhood photos, her second wedding pictures that she gave me years ago and pictures of her with other people who are not me!! *Sigh*

Me 1993

Every time I see a camera, I scream like I’m 2 and hide…When the Hell did I start doing that? I was never frightened to put on a stupid face and be right smack dab in the middle of the picture. I was always doing something retarded looking with a huge smile on my face. When did I become the scary old hunchbacked recluse in the haunted house on the corner???

Oh, yes I remember… I got married, got fat and lost my smile. Yep, all excellent reasons to stay far away from a camera that will only amplify the horror of not being a happy person. It takes me 20 pictures before I find one that is worthy of Facebook let alone to be cherished forever by my family.

My husband has always been a busy man, so he is in very few pictures; yet he always has a huge smile and goofy face when there is a camera thrust upon him. Which just confirms that men are big kids and don’t stress half as much as we women do. But, I digress because this isn’t a slam men post it’s a Jenni, you dumbass post!!! *Facepalm*

The last family picture we had taken was when our daughter was born, she’s 15 now. My son and daughter have a picture together he was sleeping; a few years ago I took them to a place and got a free picture of the two of them. A few years ago, HA more like over 5 years ago. When they were in public school I always paid for picture packages. I take loads of pictures of my kids, those memories are priceless.

But, what if I died… what if I was in a coma… what if… My kids won’t have photos of their mom; just because I was too terrified to have any permanent reminder that showed my internal sadness or anger. There are no goofy smiles or a sparkle in my eye pictures for my kids to cherish.

 

 

Jess & I circa 92-93

Just like I have no pictures of my sister and me since we were teens in High School. How depressing is that?

 

 

I don’t even own a camera; with cellphones coming equipped with them, I figured why spend money on something I don’t need… just shoot me now!!!

I am going to buy my first digital camera in the next week or two and I will give it to my daughter. She wants to try photography anyway. Looks like I am going to have to suffer and just let unflattering pictures of me be flaunted. I am already shaking at the thought but, I can’t allow my family to feel the guilt I do, when an unexpected death happens and you look at photo albums then realize all the memories in your aging brain never got saved.

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A True Writer’s Epiphany

I have just had an epiphany!!! A special heartfelt thank you to my dear wonderful friend Sweepy Jean for posting the article ‘The 7 Virtues Every Writer Needs to Succeed.’

I found part of it to be quite enlightening…“The true writer understands that she must lose sleep, lose friends, and lose her sanity, and that even then she has no guarantee of ever being recognized as a writer.”

Prior to reading this I had been thinking about all the friends I have lost in the last few months and the ones I have gained. I am evolving again; I no longer tolerate what I did when I wasn’t a writer. Now my world is positive and more upbeat with an occasional backslide because I am human after all but, I am no longer the sarcastic, negative, cursing, badmouthing, intolerable, depressed person I was just a mere year ago. Every single day to me is now a new opportunity to be great.

A year ago nothing really mattered to me, I was stuck as a housewife and mom and had no aspirations of being anything more than what I was…I was content; grouchy and rude but, content. Then last year my journey began when instead of walking the same tired path, a treadmill walk so to speak; I had abruptly turned and strolled down a new path that I had never seen before.

I wrote in High School. I was in Advanced Writing as a Senior, it was not advanced enough for me. I found it boring and I often skipped class. I would find out what my assignment was from a friend, write it, hand it in and that was that. I graduated with an A+ average in that class and yet I was almost never there. Not once did it come to mind that I should be a writer. All I dreamed of doing with my life was to escape the tyranny of my abusive household; and I did but, I became a wife and mother soon afterwards and I just accepted that… that was my life, end of story.

But, last year I quickly went from roasting and goofing off in a rapper’s chatroom to keystylin’ (writing raps directly from my head using a KEYboard) to writing poems to freestylin’ (saying raps off the top of my head) to writing articles. In that short period of time I evolved into what you see today. I was moving forward with ease because of my supportive friends and I refused to put the damn pen down.

So back to my friends list; I know it seems a bit petty to gripe over it but, the people on my list are in categories of family, friends I have known in my personal life for at least 8 years and online friends I have known for at least 3 years. So why all of a sudden, were people deleting me or blocking me? I have always been loud, outspoken, rude/crude/lewd, bluntly put I’ve always been a bitch… nothing had changed, so why were they offended enough now to remove me?

Oh wait a minute… I CHANGED!!! It wasn’t my outspoken voice that was bothering them, it was the fact more people were listening now. It was the positive feedback I was getting from my new friends. It was the point when others and myself realized I was destined for greatness. Every time I posted a new accomplishment or published an article… like clockwork I lost friends. How dare I stop being a boring, uneducated, “loser” of a housewife and become a voice that people were cheering for… How dare I not go to college and have a great talent for writing… How dare I not only continue to speak my mind but, actually convince people that I was right in what I was saying… I have some nerve, don’t I?

This is the part where I should say I am sorry but, I won’t. Because I am not sorry for becoming more then what I was, for making my children proud with each new accomplishment, and I sure as Hell am not going back to plain ol’ housewife status so some people can feel better about their lives. I will never feel bad for accomplishing my goals and dreams. If it means I lose more so-called friends, so be it. Friends support one another and if mine aren’t supporting me than you weren’t my friends to begin with.

Now you know I’m a thinker and my mind has more to say:I also realized that as I was losing “friends” I was gaining new ones as well; more professional, supportive friends. Ones who actually read what I write not judge it based on a title; people who not only support my dream of being a writer but, gladly hand me the tools and knowledge to make those dreams come true. People, who like me, refuse to treat others badly, no matter how much they deserve to be told off. You know, the kind of people who think games are for kids.

The Universe was flashing a huge neon sign at me and I had missed it, until now…Yes I miss signs too. These people who were removing me are doing me an enormous favor; every time one leaves it opens the door for “new” people to enter my life. Before long my timeline’s will be full of people I actually enjoy interacting with. I will want to continue to better myself because I see them making the world a better place. That excites me, I have always felt like the outsider and now I don’t. Home at last, home at last thank the Lord I am home at last!!!

So now every time I log in online and someone is missing, I can say “Thank You” to the Universe and roll out the red carpet for my new special friend. And to everyone who has stood beside me from beginning to end, you my dears are appreciated more then you will ever know. Because I am a true writer!!!

I Have Lived Life

I have shed blood, sweat,immeasurable tears
Stared bluntly in the face of my greatest fears

I have had good thoughts and some insane
Some brought me great pleasure some brought me great pain

I have been free and trapped in a cage
Been bursting with love and insufferable rage

I have known death and I have known birth
Seen Heaven and Hell in my life on this Earth

I have been lost and also been found
Been lifted up high and kicked down to the ground

I have turned hate to love and love into hate
Done magnificent things, a few not-so great

I have several friends, enemies too
Some of them old and some of them new

I have spoken with ink, lips and heart
Written and read inspirational art

I have lived life as well as I could
Some parts might have been bad but, most parts were good

I will rise up each time that I fall
For life is worth living so I give it my all

Birthday Reflection

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When I sat down and wrote the poem ‘Nobody’s Birthday’ all I could think was how my birthday has sucked since 1997 when my husband decided it would be a “great” idea for us to wed that day.

 

In an emotional fit of jealousy and anger he had finally realized that calling me his wife for 3 years before we were actually married was not the brightest idea… only because I was getting more and more aggravated with it. I figured if I was to be strapped with the title of wife I should at least have the document proving it.

Albert Wenzell- The Marriage Proposal

You see when my husband and I were merely boyfriend and girlfriend he fell in love and proposed, I obviously wasn’t against it because I said yes and of course I loved him too.

 

The date he chose for us to get married was February 14th, 1996, a year and 5 months after we had begun dating. In February of 1995, we found out we were expecting and I guess that might have been the moment when things started falling apart…it was in my screwed up head anyway.

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You see I had this idea of how a relationship and love should be; funny because I didn’t exactly grow up around any stable loving relationships in my life, so where I got that idea from I will never know… maybe it was The Brady Bunch or The Cosby Show.

For years I have held it against him that we never got married on the day we were suppose to and as the world will tell you… Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned and I was scorned. It always made me madmade me furious that he chose not to marry me on that date simply because of a few words my callous father had said about him… “He’s only marrying you to get his papers.” Which was a fabrication that he had created in his own mind, for my husband already had papers 7 years before even knowing me. So not only was that comment a lie and unnecessary it was clearly meant to hurt me and my relationship.

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But, every month that passed that I was not married I was told the most horrendous things by people who claimed to love me because I was an unwed mother.

 

You just have to love family whose ideas and warped sense of love taints perfectly loving relationships. I loved him and he loved me, we were faithful and raising our daughter together as a married couple…what more could a piece of paper give us?!

Those depraved mental games eventually infected my brain, as I began to wonder why we were still not married 3 years after our relationship began. So in a last dire attempt to rescue what was left of our relationship he married me, on my birthday. He was drunk out of his mind and couldn’t repeat the vows; I was angry in every one of our wedding pictures and was trying to hold back impending tears. It was the beginning of me dreading my birthday.

Year after year passed and more than not I would end the day upset and in tears because it seemed like nobody cared that it was my “special” day. No gifts, no cards, occasionally a cake and a happy birthday. The kids would do their best to make up for my sadness by showering me with several homemade cards and as much as I loved them it just never felt like enough. Call me selfish but, I wanted to be appreciated and pampered just for that one day.

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There came a point when not only was it my birthday that went uncelebrated but, Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day and Christmas too. Now instead of hating just my birthday I began hating the entire year; day after day, month after month, year after year. My husband would always say, “It’s just another day.” God, how I hated hearing that!!!

Then this year as my birthday approached; I became melancholy just like I do every year, knowing it wouldn’t be any different. We were still struggling with extra money and as usual I would get the short end of the stick; that’s where my poem came in to play.

Instead something happened…something magical and unexpected. It occurred to me that this year was different from all the other years because I WAS DIFFERENT. I had accomplished many things this year that I didn’t even know I wanted to carry out until they happened. Clearly my mind was holding a secret that my heart hadn’t uncovered until a few days before my birthday. Nobody’s Birthdayis a sad, depressing poem but, it unlocked my ability to see what truly mattered this year…my life; every single day of it not just the one day that comes and goes.

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I am a mom, a writer and a friend and every day of my life I show exceptional love, kindness and understanding towards my friends, family and fellow writers. Some may not have seen that and that’s ok because frankly they hadn’t seen anything I have said or accomplished in quite some time now. I have made leaps and bounds in my personal life as well as my professional life in 5 short months; my hard work was finally paying off and that my dear readers is something I never expected to see this year.

Needless to say, I had a great birthday because instead of expecting others to celebrate me… I celebrated me, something I have never done in my entire 36 years of life. I am proud of myself.

Isn’t it wonderful when you finally appreciate yourself for who you are and what you’ve accomplished? Did you find out something about yourself this year? Are you proud of who you’ve become?

They’re Coming To Take Me Away…

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H-E-L-P !!! *gurgle gurgle* Someone throw me a life jacket or one of those fancy fruit loop looking things or a sexy life guard. Oh yesss throw me a sexy lifeguard please; a male, I don’t play well with women. NO, don’t throw me a male lifeguard I am distracted enough.

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I am drowning here. Doesn’t anyone see me drowning? Doesn’t anyone see my arms flailing, my gasps of air and water gargled screams? Can you hear me now? Anyone?? Hellooo. Somebody?? Bueller…

It’s been a long couple of weeks and as I sit here I can’t help but, feel like I am drowning and in need of rescue. There is a million things I need to get done and I don’t know if I am presently not motivated or if being sick last week drained the hell out of me but, whatever it is something just doesn’t feel right. I think I have become a wee bit touched in the head.

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It was nothing for me to kick out a few articles in a day now; I just can’t seem to figure out what I want to say, what really needs to be said or do I even need to say it anymore. I do not doubt myself or anything like that; I am just completely unfocused about everything in my life right now. I have apparently gone crazy.

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There’s laundry to do, dishes, cleaning, organizing… I want to get out of the house with the kids at some point this summer and go to the Zoo, Science Center and festivals. I have articles and poems sitting in draft form needing to be finished. I have three books I am suppose to be working on. I have over 100 blogs I follow that need to be read because God knows they aren’t waiting for me to catch up. I have groceries to buy, dinners to fix and a life to live… yet I can’t seem to get up and git-er-dun…so to speak.

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Is this what 36 feels like? Is it just my age coming in to play and not my totally scattered brain? I have tried scheduling myself, goals, appointment books full of what to do’s and still nothing. How am I going to fix my loopy mind and settle down and work like I should be?

 

 

 

 

 

 

And they’re coming to take me away Ha Ha they’re coming to take me away ho ho he he ha ha

to the funny farm where life is beautiful all the time, and I’ll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats and they’re coming to take me away ha ha

Spaghetti Mafia

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When I was about 13 years old we spent our usual court appointed three weeks during the summer at my mom’s house. Mom was working during the day so she decided to drop Jess, Rion and me off at her aunt’s house; good ol Aunt Janet, my grandmother’s younger sister.

 

I grew up around my aunt on and off during my life but, mostly it was when I was younger because we lived a couple of blocks away from her in Flint. When I got older my aunt became disabled and was in a wheelchair for many years from diabetes and her plethora of other medical conditions. Although she was fairly sick most of the time that I was ever around her, she never failed to crack us up when we visited. We would spend hours listening to her talk about her youth and all her comical adventures. Some of them seemed too funny to be true but, we never called her a liar because the stories were definitely side-splitting hilarious and we were just children so who were we to say they didn’t happen.

 

On one particular day we; Jess, Rion, Aunt Janet and I were all sitting in the kitchen at the table talking and eating ice cream. After awhile Aunt Janet tells us this one story that I will always remember for the rest of my life; here is what she said…

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“When I was a girl I went out on a date with this nice Italian gangster, he picked me up and we went to his family’s restaurant for dinner; I had spaghetti. Time seemed to fly by while talking with him and his family. At one point the conversation became so intriguing that I forgot about my spaghetti, I was just winding and winding and winding it around my fork and when I lifted my fork to take a bite… there was no pasta on my plate, it was all on the fork!!! It was the size of a baseball.”

 

My siblings and I busted out laughing…my aunt knew how to tell a story and her facial expressions along with her hand gestures were downright entertaining. She had been twisting her hand like she was actually winding the spaghetti on the fork and her mouth dropped open as she lifted her hand to her face.

 

I am very fortunate to have spent quite a bit of time with my Aunt Janet before she passed away in 2001. Every time I eat spaghetti I recant the story she told us and laugh half way through dinner!! And don’t even get me started singing that parody song of On Top of Old Smokey. LOL

And The Award For Most Awards In A Week Goes To…

Do you ever feel like your life resembles an awards show? Every time I write something I feel like I am waiting to be nominated for an Emmy or Grammy or something to that effect. It’s not like I need the awards to make me feel special but, I do feel special when I receive one. Last week was no exception when I received 3 awards from fellow bloggers/ friends.

I step up to claim my honor with speech in hand, look out to the crowd and realize that what I thought was my speech was nothing more than a receipt from the bar I was at last night getting wasted in celebration. “Umm…” I start out, “It looks as if I misplaced my speech, and so I guess I have to do this the old-fashioned way.” The crowd laughs.

“First off I would like to thank all the people who believed in me when I didn’t. I’d also like to thank the people who nominated me for these wonderful awards… (You can find these and more on my accomplishments page.)

 

Roy’s Garage Sell and Auction Well

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                   

 

 

Sulekha’s Memoirs

 

Ravenmyth

You have all blessed me with such honor and I appreciate this in more ways than you know.”

“I would like to say a few things about myself before I toss the awards to the new nominees-in-waiting.”

1-I have premonitions. I can remember as early as 4 years old having them. They come to me while I am dreaming. I don’t normally remember my dreams but, these always stick. I have seen many things while growing up and this although I am thankful for having such abilities I am also sad that I can’t do anything about what I see. My last premonition was about my sister being sick, a few months later she was indeed sick and passed away.

2-I have seen ghosts/spirits since I was very young. My first memory was in my grandmother’s house where two brothers had died when they were about 18 years old. I woke up in the middle of the night to see them standing at the end of my bed, one said to the other “She’s awake.” I freaked out; I saw and heard them clear as day. I banged on the wall behind me where my grandma’s room was, never taking my eyes off them. My grandma turned on the light and they were gone. She told me to say “God is my light” when I saw things that scared me, to this day if I have a nightmare I think those words to help me move on to something happier.

3-There is always at least one light on in my house at all times. My daughter sees spirits as well and quite a few have frightened her to the point she would scream bloody murder several times at night. I finally had to leave lights on so she couldn’t see them all the time. Mostly their appearances scared her because she saw what they looked like when they died. It was hard for her because she didn’t watch horror movies, imagine how you felt the first time you saw a half-burned body in a movie; now imagine if that body was right in front of you and you were only a small child. Freakin’ scary isn’t it??

4-I have lots of scars on my body; from accidents, surgeries, former cutting, attempted suicides, and internalizing anger. I have learned to cool down before cleaning or doing dishes because somehow I always manage to cut myself with a knife I didn’t notice or breaking a glass or plate. I have broken many collectables and none of them were intentional.

5-I don’t like fighting but, I can and will fight when provoked. I am very peaceful and will try to talk it out first but, when I feel like I must stand up I do it without a second thought. I don’t want anyone to ever feel like nobody helped them in their time of need.

6-I believe we all come into one another’s lives for a reason. We are all connected and should be learning from one another no matter if it’s a good lesson or a bad lesson. A person who spreads hate and drama in your life is teaching you how to handle that negativity and how to not be that way to someone else. You can learn very important lessons from everyone; just sit back and observe them and you will see the lesson.

7-I was born in Flint, Michigan and from there I have lived in many other places. In Michigan I lived in Flint, Mt. Morris, Fairview and Rose City. I lived in Las Vegas, NV for 7 years on and off… twice for 4 months a piece I lived in Mexico City, Mexico. In Illinois I have lived in Chicago twice for about a year and Stockton for a year and a half. Then we moved to Missouri, St. Charles for about 7 years and St. Louis for 3 years. Of all the places I have lived I consider Las Vegas to be my home. It is true what they say about home is where the heart is, my heart is with my grandparents, mom, brother, my departed sister and the place I met my husband and where my kids were born. I suppose if my family ever moved out of Vegas it might no longer feel like home.

I hope you have enjoyed my 7 about me’s and now I must nominate 21 blogs. Whew this could take me a few minutes.

1- Mari’s Photography Tips

I love her images and she is also very helpful to anyone who aspires to take good pictures. Mari is very enthusiastic about her blog but, also about other’s blogs. It always makes me feel better when I know Mari has commented on my blog.

2- Sulekha’s Memoirs

I have to renominate her. Sulekha is not only a good writer she is a romantic so when you read her posts you can feel the love, joy, sadness and pain that comes from the struggle of the mind not grasping what the heart knows.  Her posts will make you feel not just think.

3- Stuart’s Bornstoryteller

Whether he is writing fictional stories or posts about the education system you have to give Stuart credit for being a great writer. His educational pieces make you think and his stories make you feel like you are watching it happen not just reading it. Don’t be surprised if one of his stories ends up as a movie.

4- Debra’s Pure and Simple

I am new to reading her blog but, what I have read so far has amazed. Debra is a fellow unschooler and one of the first I have gotten to know since I became one. What I would have given to have read her post on unschooling when I started out; better late than never though. She talks about various things on her blog so there is something for everyone.

5- Adriene’s Sweepy Jean Explores The (Webby) World

I have to nominate the woman who opened up a whole other world to me. I was just using my blog to write and didn’t associate with any bloggers at all. Meeting Adriene was a blessing and her posts are thought provoking and her poems flow with wisdom.

6- Wil’s Bloggasaurus

I started reading his blog after he found mine and commented. He was one of my first meaningful comments and I appreciate that very much. I enjoy reading his posts, he talks about various topics and welcomes lengthy feedback, which if you all know me you know I am wordy. Wil also put me as a guest post from a single comment I left on one of his posts. How many times can you say that your comment has provoked a post of it’s own? Check out his blog, it’s a very good read.

7- Tameka’s Lyric Fire

With a name like Lyric Fire you know that her poems will leave a burn on your soul. I have had the pleasure in working with Tameka on one of my blog’s. She opens your mind to experience new things, whether it is soulful poetry, sensual poetry or just a question that deserves a heartfelt answer. Slather on the SPF because you will feel the “burn” when you read her posts.

8- Rimly’s Journey

Every single time I read a poem by her my soul breaks into a million pieces and cries. Rimly’s journey feels like my journey and I long for it to take a new path down a less painful road. When you read her posts you have to ask yourself, how did her heart write all of that and allow her to still remain loving and caring to all she encounters? I don’t know the answer so I keep on reading until I can figure it out.

9- Bonnie’s Bongo Is Me

Anyone who has been through so much in life and still gets up and faces the day I respect whole-heartedly but, to get up and tell the world how much you struggle is miraculous. Reading Bonnie’s posts is very hard for me too many things ring true from my life but, after I have left her blog and the tears and heartache finally subside I realize that things in this life could be way worse.  That if this amazing woman can get up and live with all she encountered than so can I.  Don’t be afraid to feel the pain she portrays in her writing, be afraid if you don’t feel anything.

10- Melissa’s Depth

I am new to reading her blog as well. Melissa is very kind, loving and supports other’s writing with as much heart and soul as she puts into her own. If she doesn’t understand something she asks about it, she is upbeat and looks for the joy in everything.

11- Ravenmyth

Although she nominated me I planned on nominating her beforehand. I guess great minds think alike. 😀 I have just started reading her blog in the last week and I know I have many of her posts to catch up on. Before I can even speak about her writing let me tell you how in one instant I feel as if I found my long-lost family in Raven. I don’t think two writer’s have ever had such an instant connection. One look on her blog and you can see that her talent is deeply rooted to her core. Before you can even read a word you can see that she speaks from a lifetime of experience and is connected to all forms of life. A pure soul writing purely is always a rare find, go check it out.

12- Jeremy’s Skipper

I stumbled upon his blog and have been laughing out loud ever since. His blog is a comic strip and even though I stopped reading comics some time ago I am so glad to have found this one. Jeremy has talent and Skipper should be a Sunday newspaper comic.

The next 3 blogs go hand in hand since it was through each other that I found all of them.

13- Kiesha’s We Blog Better

I found this blog because of a guest post that I truly enjoyed.(See #14)  I have a lot of reading to do on this blog but, I love that they do a lot of guest posts to show off talented writer’s all in one place. I am lucky if I remember where my blog is so this really helps me find great reads without having tons of tabs open.

14- Hajra Kvetches

I found her through her guest post on We Blog Better(see #13)  and I loved it. I haven’t got a chance to read more by her yet but, I am sure they will be brilliant, some people you can just tell after reading one post. Then I went to her blog to read more where I found a guest post that leads me to #15.

15-  Melanie’s Solo Mompreneur

I loved her guest post on Hajra’s blog that I immediately flew over to her blog and read a wonderful post on wearing blog-colored glasses. I think all bloggers and writers feel that way. At least I know I do… oh you don’t know what I am talking about, well click the link and find out.

16-  Pandora’s Peace From Pieces

Another new blog for me to read. I read her Writing To Me Post and fell in love with her poem The House.  Click on the link and follow her if you aren’t and we can enjoy reading her posts together.

17- The Widow Lady

Another brand new blog… to me anyway. I just started reading her blog on early Saturday morning and was mesmerized by what I read. She is definitely worth a follow.

18- Jim’s Holes In My Soles

He brings the wilderness into your home and leaves it there. If you listen carefully you can here the sounds of the wild calling out to you, can you hear it?? It’s saying “Come take a look we won’t hurt you.”

19- JP Brandano: Florida’s Phoographers

Despite the recent name change this blog is a gem. Jim’s images are stunning and need no words but, he explains to you in detail what led up to the moment the image was shot and in a hilarious way at that. He also gives educates the reader on his nature posts which comes in handy for us “cityfolk” who have never seen a Floridian bird.

20- Sancheeta’s Sensitivity

Doesn’t the title of the blog alone make you wonder? Delightful posts to ignite the passions inside all of your sense. A must read for romantics everywhere.

21- Mohinee’s Gurukripa- Indian Culture ‘N’ Philosophy

Romanticism and poetry go hand in hand in her blog. Even though Mohinee’s blog is about India I find her insightful words to be very touching.

 

“So that ends our awards show, I hope you all enjoyed it and tune in next time. ”

Make sure you all grab your award and pass it on to 7 people and post 7 things about yourself.

Thank you to all the people who take time to read and comment my blog you are all appreciated. I realize many of you have these awards so feel free to take the one you want. I am still very new to the blogging community and obviously very  far behind on some really great blogs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Freedom For Father’s Day

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Father’s Day brings mixed emotions for me. One, for my kids who rarely see their dad because he is a workaholic; I guess if he is going to be an aholic I prefer it be work over alcohol. It would be nice if their dad realized that there is more to being a dad then providing a roof over one’s head. I’m certain one day he will grasp that idea but, the kids will be grown by then.

The other is for my father who is still alive but, I don’t call him or send him a card anymore for various reasons.

One reason being, he has disowned  me too many times to remember. Secondly, I don’t receive cards or calls on my “special” days including my birthday and neither do my kids; his grandkids. And lastly, I am just tired of trying to keep a relationship alive when it’s apparent he doesn’t care. Therefore, I have taken up the position of “You don’t know me then I don’t know you.” After all these years of trying what more can I do…

Am I wrong for this? I don’t believe I am wrong, I did my best most of my life to be a part of his life and in my opinion the road goes both ways. Yet, here I am, the one putting in the effort all the time. It just isn’t worth it to me to keep trying when it’s obvious I am not wanted in his life. I did the “Christian” thing; I forgave, accepted apologies and gave apologies but, did I get unconditional love back? No, I did not get back a fraction of what I put into the supposed father/daughter relationship. What we have here people, is a failure to reciprocate.

I’ve moved on now, there is nothing left to do but, move on and as my husband says; “Just say I love you and leave it at that.” (He can be a wise man sometimes.) I have bent over backwards to be included in the lives of people who swear they love me and my kids but, don’t actually know us. My kids have grandparents and they are a mystery to them. There are no phone calls, cards, or letters… absolutely nothing except, the occasional; “You know we love your kids” statement that I have heard during a phone call. Yet, still no effort is made on their part to be a part of their grandchildren’s lives. I have a hard time with this because I was taught that family is everything; how strange… because only certain family was ever included in our lives when I was growing up the rest were “disowned.” Well, looks like I too am a part of the “do as I want or be gone” side of the family. Thank God I believe that the most important family is my husband and kids or I might just be torn up about being exiled…

I can no longer accept such half-assed attempts from anyone, no matter who they are. It is one thing to be upset at me for whatever you believe I have done wrong but, to alienate children just because they are my blood is not only ridiculous it’s asinine and childish. One day my kids will be grown and in my opinion better off for not knowing people who didn’t take time out of their busy little fantasy isle lives to acknowledge them and love them.

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So my gift this Father’s Day is the gift of… freedom. I am freeing myself of annoyances, games and intolerable trivial nonsense and I am giving my father the freedom to never have to deal with me or mine ever again; which is clearly the greatest gift for any father who constantly disowns people like they were material possessions.

What I will not give though is my silence; I have spent too many years not saying what needed to be said and watched while those around me were verbally assaulted. I know for a fact that neither of my grandparents raised any of their children to be bullies or to deny their grandchildren just because they were mad at their children for something their child did as a child. In fact my grandmother not only accepted all her grandchildren she also accepted step-grandchildren and would take all of us during the summer to stay with her at her house. So I know very well her children were raised better than to “disown” anyone.

It’s time to grow up; the child is almost 36 years old now and if I am being judged as an adult for something I did as a child, well I guess you just aren’t as smart as you think you are. Everyone makes mistakes and when you say “I’m sorry” or “I forgive you” than that is where it ends. You don’t hold on to something that transpired 17 years ago. I am not the same person I was 17 years ago and it’s a shame that some people haven’t changed at all in that time. So I end this with; I love you and I wish you well but, I cannot keep being a part of such constant hatred and childishness anymore. God loves all of his children no matter what; I know those are big shoes to fill but, you might want to give it a try.

To all the dads out there… Happy Father’s Day, love your children unconditionally and treat them well so that one day they will remember the good things about you and pass them down to their children.

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I Became A Boy So I Could Play Baseball

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I am the oldest girl in my family; my father had three daughters and always yearned for a son.

Naturally, it became my job to carry out his fantasy. Believe me when I say, I would have much rather been taught how to be a girl but, it just wasn’t in the cards for me.

From the time I could walk I had a baseball in my hand, pretty strange for a little girl but, dad for some twisted reason needed me to play the son role.

My sister who was two years younger than me, got to play girl, in some ways I envy that but, in other ways I don’t. Since I was daddy’s little boy, I learned how to play sports like a boy.

There was no girl who played baseball like I played baseball. I could throw hard and far, I could hit any kind of pitch thrown at me and I could switch hit. Those of you who know nothing about baseball; switch hitting is when you hit right-handed then switch to hitting left-handed or vice versa. Being, ambidextrous, I have always excelled with either hand.

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As I got older I started playing softball because that was what “girls” played and even though I was good at it, it was not baseball. I spent my days practicing; throwing, catching and batting. Dad had a wooden bat I practiced with; it was heavy but, if I could swing that and hit the ball, just imagine what I would do with a light-weight aluminum bat.

Every weekend during the summer when dad would come home from work, we would go up to the park for baseball practice. Dad would pitch and I would hit and then we would switch. I could strike dad out several times while playing; my sports abilities were the only thing I received praise for.

The thing I can say about dad teaching me to play baseball is I played like a man; both dad and I could hit damn near any kind of pitch, including ones you would never swing at if you were playing in the Major League. If the ball was within arm reach we would swing at it. It was all in fun and kept our talent at maximum peak.

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One day the family went up to the park and played our usual game of baseball. I was pitching, my step-mom was catching, my sisters were in the outfield and dad was batting. He managed to hit a few of my pitches then all of a sudden, I throw this one pitch that maybe dad shouldn’t have swung at. In fact, I know he should NEVER have swung at that. Dad managed to tip the ball with the bat and we all stood shocked as the ball circled high in the sky and CRASHED right into the windshield of his car that was parked on the other side of the fence. It took a few moments and finally dad laughed; “Look what you did.” he told me. “What?! I didn’t hit it.” I replied. Dad never parked that close to the fence ever again.

 

I can honestly say this is a happy memory from my childhood and I am ok with being treated like a boy so I could have the excellent baseball playing skills I posess. There are many things I might change from back then if I could but, this gift I wouldn’t change for anything.

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Moonlit Magic

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As the sun did descend
into the abyss
the moon came to view
our first passionate kiss.

Our mouths start to tango
hearts beating as one
the warmth of our breath
flaming hot as the sun.

Your arms they engulfed me
strongly and secure
I looked in your eyes
mesmerizing and pure.

Enchantments soft whisper
echoed through the sand
freeing its potion
as we walked hand in hand

Your charms diluted me
I could not refuse
our bodies gave in
to the moonlight’s pale hues.

The trees swaying gently
a magical sight
applauding we lovers
making love through the night.

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Lovable Labels BlogHer’ 11 Getaway Contest

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With blood soaking  my jeans and jacket; I hurriedly walked from my apartment to the nearest gas station. It was only a matter of time before they dealt the blow that would kill me. Tears and blood streamed down my face as I dialed the number that I had called collect so many times before in my young life; my mom’s. Continue reading

Keyboard Killers

E thug this, E thug that
how G can you be typing in a chat.
Clickity clack your fingers are flying
if you say you’re somebody you must be lying.
Making E threats, shooting blanks
does your army come with little plastic tanks?
The royalty of roasting, you must smoke crack
to think you do damage from a keyboard attack.
Ain’t nobody hurting except maybe your hand
chronic carpal tunnel hope you got an insurance plan.
You can’t win a war from a keyboard
but when it comes to spamming you get the award.
The net is so great it let’s you pretend
but, your life still sucks when your library time comes to an end.






The Contract

Tired of shaking I am losing control
too much anxiety has taken its toll
adrenaline pumping all through my veins
standing here naked body wrapped up in chains
I’m a prisoner help me let me out of this cage
theres nothing more deadly then a heart full of rage
I scream through the cell hoping someone will hear
a voice dark and low says “you have nothing to fear”
“GOD is that you?” I reply in the dark
“You know the answer” its says “look deep in your heart”
“GOD I cant see, are you really here now?”
“All in due time but first you must say this vow”
“GOD I’ll do anything just free me from this hell”
“I have you my child there’s no need to yell”
” What must I do GOD just tell me I’m in”
” First you must bow and let me wipe you from sin”
“Oh GOD I am sorry I was wrong please forgive me”
“Your prayer has been answered now just open your eyes and you’ll see”
So I opened my eyes and got such a surprise
standing before me was not GOD but SATAN with snake eyes
“Lucifer it is you i thought u were GOD
how could you do this why the facade?”
“Child not everyone who hears you is GOD dont you know
take my hand and I’ll show you the right way to go.”
“I cannot do that I wont go with you
I’d rather be dead then sell my soul like a fool.”
“Child you are mistaken it’s too late you’re all mine
for it wasnt you who made your life contract it was your parents who signed!”