Soundtrack of My Life

It's funny how a song can take you back to a place and time as if you were stepping into a time machine.  Or can become this warm blanket that encompasses you and takes you to a place in your past - or even in your present.  Even the chords before the lyrics begin can spark a memory you forgot existed within yourself.  I have always been a musical person.  While I couldn't play an instrument if my life depended on it, I can sing - and do quite often.  Just ask my ten-year old daughter who is constantly telling me to zip it.  I often consider myself a walking karaoke machine, because I can remember the lyrics to thousands of songs, even those I haven't heard in many years. 

I love music about as much as I love food. Or sleep.  Or oxygen.  It gets me through hard times, good times, and even the times in between.  Sometimes I make playlists of certain songs just to get my mind to calm down when it races into the wee hours of the night.  I find that no matter where I am, where I go, or what I do, music is what I cling to.  Some people listen to the melodies and swoon.  I, personally, am a lyric girl.  I find that song whose words can't escape me. 

I used to make these incredibly elaborate mixes for people telling them what I thought of them and how I felt.  Each tape (eventually CD) was painstakingly hand-crafted.  I would sit in front of my boombox with my pad of paper for hours, rewinding and playing, rewinding and playing, rewinding and playing songs to make sure I knew each and every lyric.  I had thirty notebooks filled with lyrics that I would sometimes just sit and read, singing along a cappella.  I know the lyrics now to thousands of songs.

As a mom, there have been hundreds of songs I want to "dedicate to my daughter" so that when she hears them she thinks of me.  Some that fit my situation so well that I can't help but weep when I hear them.  About our struggle as a team of mother and daughter and how we can get through anything as long as we stick together. 

My personal favorite is when you hear a song when you are somewhere random and you remember which movie it is from. When you get home you have to watch it because the nostalgia is so overwhelming.  I place songs with movies constantly.  I will hear the same song throughout several different motion picture soundtracks and feel this self-accomplishment that I recognized it. Like anyone gives a damn but me. 

How about a love song that makes you think of a forgotten love in your life.  Or a whole album you listened to that even one song on it slams you into a time you can remember as good as the back of  your hand.  It is amazing that songs have these capabilities to spark a longing inside of you. 

I don't even know why I am sharing these thoughts.  Perhaps because I have been soundtracking my life for the last 3 straight days.  Belting out random lyrics that fit with what is happening or just a random up-tempo pop-tune to get me through to the next activity.  Oh well, I guess there could be worse things, eh?

German-y

You know you are getting older when life takes you in a different direction than your best friend.

Our lives have been running in two completely different paths for the last few years but we have managed to stay friends while the world pulls us apart.  Within the last year we have spent the least time together than ever before.  She has had a child within the last year and half, while I did that ten years ago.  She has a live-in man, while I find the mere thought of living with someone mind-boggling.  A number of different factors that makes our two worlds just that - two worlds.  We used to be inseparable to the point where people began telling us we looked like sisters when we look nothing alike. We spent a good decade together without a hitch. She could have been growing off my hip and I wouldn't have even noticed because we were never apart anyway.

Last night I got to spend a few hours with her. I drove to her house and sat in the bathroom while she was in the shower, like we were 17 again.  We talked in our voice that no one understands so that no one could hear us from outside the bathroom.  We drove to our friend Joel's house because he was having some volleyball peeps over for a random gathering.  We went there and I swear most of the time it was like no one else was in the room.  We just get lost in our stupid jokes and stories.  She can read me like a book - and, I, her.  It's almost like the things we say would never make sense to anyone except her and me.  Maybe everyone else in the house noticed it too. That we spent a good portion of the time on our phones showing each other random YouTube videos (like this video) and trying to decipher what others were even talking about.  We talked about love for a moment and I didn't even have to say anything to her - she already knew exactly what I was thinking about the situation.  She knew my heart was torn without even looking me in the eyes and seeing the pain I felt. The stuff only best friends can do.


The point I am even trying to get across is sometimes life likes to decide for you the people you will surround yourself with and the people you love the most may be the people you see the least.  While I love my best friend unfailingly and we only see each other maybe once a month, she is still my best friend who I would punch people in the face for (or call 911 at least) and do absolutely anything for.  Or her daughter.  I guess I just want to say thanks.  After 14 years of everything one person could possibly imagine, thanks for being you.

A Day Like Today

Life will never cease to amaze me.  It's constant twists and turns always lead me back to a place I can call home.  Even though there are times that I don't want to stay in this place -or in this city- anymore, I still love the moments that make me feel fuzzy.

You know those friends you have that you don't talk to very often and rarely see, then you see each other and it was like you were never apart?  Those are my favorite relationships.  You can spend an entire afternoon of playing "catch up" and reminiscing about the past.  Picking up where you left off, like no time has passed at all.  It is such a surreal feeling.

I had one of those days today -and it was next to perfect. A day where every story that was told brings slammed me into the past, whipping up so much nostalgia that my cheeks start to hurt from smiling so much and my mind is in an absolute frenzy of memories and just life in general. 

Sometimes I don't feel like I have gone down the right road and made the right choices for not only myself, but for my daughter.  Yet on days like today, I know that the choices I have made are okay.  I know that no matter what has happened in the past or what will happen in the future, that things are the way they are supposed to be.  I wish I would have tweaked it a little but it has been such a learning process.  Maybe I wouldn't be me if I would have changed the course.  

This sums today up so nicely.

Bob Dylan

My cat is sick.

Several weeks ago Dylan was covered in scabs around his neck and butt and he pretty much licked his nipples off.  I know, quivering thought eh?  Dylan is my 19 lb. cat - my big boy.  He is now down to 14 lbs. and puking anywhere from 3 to 12 times a day. He has eaten of almost all of the fur on his legs and stomach and he looks like he stuck his tail in a light socket. I have an appointment set for tomorrow to find out what is wrong but I fear that tomorrow will be the end of Dylan. We already saw a doctor about him close to 3 months ago and I 'm afraid they will just tell me the same thing.

My kitty, Dylan, is only 4 years old.  His older brother Preston, I had to put down at 6 years old due to severe Diabetes.  I couldn't afford the medicine and lets face it, it's a cat.  I feel bad for my little man even though I cannot stand him 95% of the time.  Cats are so inbred it really doesn't shock me that they get so sick but darn it, it makes me sad.  While I cannot stand him, I don't want him to be sick.  I don't want him to suffer either.

I will post after tomorrow's appointment to let anyone who cares know how he ended up. I may just update this post.

**Update 1/29/13:  Just got home from the vets and Dylan is doing - eh... well.  I bought him a catnip treat and he is wasted right now, but other than that he is on $120 worth of meds to cure him of his illness.  Steroids, antibiotics, AND a parasite treatment.  The doctor didn't really know what is wrong with him but this will be a start to figuring it out.

Oh and of course he pooped in his carrier in my car on the drive home.  Must have been one of those "Thanks Mom.  I appreciate all you do for me!" moments. Little bastard.

**Update #2 (2/1/13):  Went to the doctors again this morning as Dylan will not stop puking. They did x-rays and a blood draw.  The x-ray shows there is definitely something in his stomach making him miserable, but whether it is fur or an obstruction we are unsure.  Blood results will be in tomorrow.  $260 later and I am back at home with my sick kitty. :(

My Little Free Spirit

For the last few months my daughter has been having a rough time on the bus rides to and from school.

This morning she came to me with tears in her eyes:
"Can I not ride the bus anymore?"
I knew in an instant that something was going on again.
"No honey, you can't hide from life."
"But yesterday was really bad and I don't want it to be like that again."

She proceeded to show me her hat I bought her for Christmas.  One of those hats with an animals face on it and there are two strings that hang down from it with big pom-poms at the end. Apparently one of the boys on the bus yanked on the strings til the ball was nearly ripped off -which did make me pretty mad.

"Did you tell Miss Karen?" (Miss Karen is the bus driver)
"Well... no."
"Then obviously you don't care if people destroy your belongings."
"Mom!"

A few minutes of banter passed where I told her to quit letting people act however they want around her; to quit letting people walk all over her all the time.  Then she showed me her hand, where one of her closest friends since Kindergarten raked her nails into my daughter's skin.  Sure as shit, there were red nail marks on the back of her hand. I asked why and received an answer that it was unprovoked and for no reason. So I pretty much lost it.

"Someone physically hurts you and you allow it?  Punch her in the face. I give you permission."
"Mom... I don't hit people."
"Did you tell Miss Karen?"
"No. I don't want to be embarrassed."
*sigh*
"Babe, you cannot let people treat you like this. Especially someone you call a friend."

She does let them though, she always has.  Funny enough, though she wasn't around for my childhood, I did too. I was walked on and bullied from Elementary school through High School.  It makes me sick to the core.  My stomach is churning just typing this out.  I am not like that now and have no issues with bullying at this point in my life probably because I was abused so much as a kid.  Now, I have no tolerance for bullying, whatsoever.  When I hear about it all I see is red. Blood red.  I wound up getting pretty heated about it this morning and my daughter wound up crying.  My daughter is a sensitive soul.  She is one of those free-spirit/old souls who just wants everyone to be happy and for everyone to love each other.  I love that about her. How she is so carefree and sweet. She is too young to understand that realistically a peaceful world is unattainable. If you ever heard the song "That's The Way" by Led Zeppelin, that is my song for her.

All in all, I passed the situation on to the bus driver -who just so happened to run into the girl's mother at school.  Not even 20 minutes later the mom was on my front porch extending her apologies.  I told her not to jump to any conclusions until she talked to her daughter about the situation. She ranted about how her daughter was grounded and she was taking away all of her toys and DVDs.  I didn't feel bad even an ounce for that, but I was still feeling bad that my daughter does't know how to stand up for herself.  I don't know what to do or how to get around this, but my heart is heavy.  She only has 4 months left in elementary school and then she is on to junior high where it just gets harder.  :(

Your Passion or Mine?

In English class last Monday, we had to write three paragraphs on something we felt passionately about so the professor could gauge how we write and what styles we use when doing so.  I swear I could have sat there the entire night and not come up with a topic.  While I feel emotion in regard to many topics, I am one of those people who can see both sides so clearly that sometimes it blurs my passionate lines.  Liberal to the core I suppose.

Either way I ended up writing about politics.  One thing I am not incredibly seasoned in, but one that is paving a really wide road through my life right now - especially with friends and family.  I wrote them in a very hurried yet semi-lengthy way.  Almost everyone else had left before I was finished with my bland three paragraphs.  I pretty much could have written all night just on the things that were pouring out of me, but I cut them short and wrapped it up for the night. I wrote how since November 6th (Election Day), I have deleted over 90 people from my Facebook - mostly for political reasons.  Not because someone may not think like I do, but because of the blatant ignorance pouring out of people these days.

This past Monday I got my paper back.  I have been so nervous since school started that I was honestly expecting a pretty bad review of my paper.  I could see mine sitting at the top of the stack and there was all kind of notes littering the margins.
Oh dear, has it been that long since I was in school that I have forgotten how to write three freaking paragraphs properly? 
The class is in regard to Composition and making sure we can write in the right format and blah blah blah. The meat and potatoes of it all is to write a thesis on a topic in the news that we are passionate about.  One that we can argue and state facts about. Yikes.  Here comes that pesky passionate bullshit again.

Sidebar: One thing I look for in a partner is passion.  Sure a man can be incredibly good looking and smart, but if he has the same passion as a wet dishrag then I will pretty much end the relationship then and there. And by passion I do not mean hobbies.  By passion I mean, he wants to leave a mark on something whether it be his kids, his nieces and nephews, feeding the hungry or even world peace.  I am extremely attracted to a guy that I lives his life on behalf of something other than himself.

She handed my paper back and within the margins it said things like "Love this opening!" and "Great rhetorical question!"  The one that got me was "You could use this for your paper topic! It would be new, since no one has done it yet. Interesting paper."  I did a literal facepalm right there. I didn't even know what to say, where to start, how to react, any of it.  Adrenaline started coursing through my body and I wasn't even sure how to move my legs to walk away from her.  I just stood there like a mannequin.  I have under-estimated myself. And though this was only the first assignment and I have a LONG way to go before I walk away with an 'A' in the class, I still felt my confidence level sky rocket.   It's one thing to keep a journal every day or blog on the occasion, but to have someone else tell you that they like your ideas is one thing you can't buy in a store.

Reeling from the aftermath, I picked up 4 books for research and have written 2 pages of a rough draft.  It isn't even due until mid-March.  Needless to say I am a bit excited.  Every day when I go to my classes (whether it is English or otherwise) I am on a high.  Like college is where I am supposed to be.

I guess I owe a thank you to Lowe's for that fateful day when I was fired.  Thank you for changing my life for the absolute best!

I Am The Sunshine

I awoke today to find that I didn't want to go along with any of the plans that I had set for myself. When I looked at my cellphone, the too-white screen blared to life showing me it was only 5am, and since falling back asleep was not really an option, I decided to open the book I was reading the night before.
I got a good two hours in when my alarm to start the day started going off.  Typically when the alarm goes off I snooze it to death.  Today, I was like the sunshine.

Of course Lou got to school without a hitch and I had my whole day mapped out before me.  I even had a list written out of the people to call, the bills to pay, and the places I was supposed to go.  I held that yellow Post-It note in my hand before crumpling it into a ball and tossing it across the room.  I wandered to my bedroom, put my sweats back on and crawled into bed.  Bea jumped right up on the bed as if on cue. She does that when I wake up in the morning, she will go back in my room, jump right up on the bed, and cock her head to the side as if to say, "But mommy, aren't we going to sleep in longer?"   There have been instances where she has been to bed at 9pm and will sleep until 11am.  She also does this cute thing of when you climb into bed and lift the covers to pull them around yourself, she nudges her nose under them. Meaning: Lift them back up so I can come under too.  And I do. And she does. Every day.  It's funny that for an emotionally detached old maid who doesn't like to cuddle, that I snuggle up a pit bull every day like it is my job.

So I fired up my tablet and took off back down Firefly Lane.  It only took me another hour or so to finish the story.  As we all know I am a emotional person. This book hit me like a ton of bricks. I was weeping when it was over. I cried maybe 40% of this book that is how much it touched my heart. Good thing my cousin Bridget called to take me off topic or I may have sobbed for hours.
Firefly Lane is a tale of two best friends, Tully and Kate, whose paths crossed when they were 13 and they were inseparable from that point forward- even though they were two very different people. Life took them on a lot of journeys and misadventures.  I didn't relate to one of them, yet a little to both. Neither story was quite my own, but nonetheless, I felt the pangs of friendships lost, loves lost, family lost, childhood lost. Okay, that's a lot of loss.  Tully liked to push people away and that I could relate too, because it was one of my best qualities.  Kate was passive to her friends and they usually took advantage of her for it. Again with the hitting home.  It had me spending an afternoon thinking deeply of life and it's path.

One thing about being jobless is that unemployed people usually watch more TV than they can stomach.  I on the other hand do not have cable.  Books who have always been a dear friend are now my absolute solace. My love. So after putting dinner and homework, I decided I had to start a new adventure.  Lou was playing something on the iPod and I decided on reading Heaven Is For Real.  I had heard it was good but heard nothing more.  I ate that novel up in two hours flat. I don't know if I believe the story that a boy went into surgery, "died" even though the records don't show it, and went to Heaven with Jesus, to come back and share his tale.  So here I sit, thinking about faith.  Something you could wonder about for all of time and never have an answer to. Guess we will all know one day.  Eternity does kind of freak me out though. Sounds like a commitment which we all know I avoid.

Maybe tomorrow I won't read a book and I will rejoin society instead.  I sure hope society is under my covers snuggled up next to Beatrice.