Monday, March 12, 2007


A very close friend of mine sent me a text message the other day that said simply "Just sitting here thinking about what great friends I have. I love you!" This particular 'friend' is more of a family member to me than a friend. It's confusing when I introduce her to new people. She used to be married to my brother, so she's my former sister-in-law. She has come out of her shell since the divorce. She played the role of a hermit for a while, but she will now go out with us, she's dating, she's having fun, enjoying life again. In spite of not having a college education, she's become the COO of the telecommunications company for which she used to work, but now is a partner/co-owner. She shares with me her dreams, her fears, her life.

My real sister (blood sister, the only one I have) is also my friend, probably my best friend. She and I are very much alike in a lot of ways, completely the opposite in others. We have the same voice (in more ways than one). Very few people can tell us apart over the phone. We have the same facial expressions. We share many of the same memories, good and bad. We also share many of the same fears. Some people say we look alike, that it's obvious we're sisters.

I don't see it. She's tall with light hair and dark eyes, small boned, thin. I'm short with dark hair and light eyes, a muscular frame, and overweight. I think the resemblance that people see between us is more in our mannerisms, facial expressions, and the way we react to each other. We finish each other's sentences often. There are many times that we need not speak out loud at all. We understand each other. We can, and do, share everything, even our secrets.

I have a very dear friend who lives in Maryland. So often I find myself wishing she were closer. We 'talk' almost daily via the internet and the occasional phone call. We see each other in person at least once per year. This year twice! She inspires me to make use of my talents, to make time for me, for fun. She's a mother, a wife, a sister, a friend, a teacher, a poet, a photographer, an artist, and an admirer of cake and beer. The waters of her soul run very deep. This woman is so much more than what she seems at first glance. I love her dearly and I hope that she knows that.

I have another good friend who's new. We met only a year ago, although it seems we've known each other forever. She teaches special education kids at a local public school. She has the smartest 3 year old little girl I think I've ever known. She's a good mom.

We're strong women, all of us.

I of course have other friends that I could also write about. Frankly, I don't have the time. These 4 women are most prominent in my life right now. I adore each of them because of who they are, what they stand for, their loyalty, and their beauty.

We are women, we're not perfect, but we're beautiful, we're sisters, we're friends.

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Wasted Time

I've been reading The Girl Who's blog for a while now. Its author is a talented writer. Naturally, I check out other blogs that she either mentions or links to as well. There has been an ongoing saga between The Girl and her husband's ex-girlfriend for quite some time now. Recently, the entire episode sort of exploded.

The ex is also a talented writer.

I guess I just don't understand why the girls are choosing to continue the fighting. It could all so easily be ended if one (or both) of them just lets go.

The Girl is happily married to her husband, whose band, by the way, is phenomenal, in my humble opinion. The ex is in a happy relationship. The ladies live on completely different continents, have never met, and really have no ties binding them except the ones of their own choosing.

I think, in the beginning of any relationship, it's normal to be curious about your new love's ex(es). It has been 3 years, however. The curiosity stage is over. This is something else entirely. It's making them both miserable and it makes me a little sad.

Anyway, their fighting has inspired me to write a poem. I'm dedicating it to both of you ladies...whether you take my advice or not.

By the way, I'm sure the truth of this entire ordeal lies somewhere in the middle of the two stories. I think it might be a little closer, however, to the east coast of these great United States.

Wasted Time

slaves to each other
both held in cells with doors wide open
denying flight
hands clenched on invisible bars
looking out
refusing to take that first step
freedom pleading
its voice lost in the winds of pride
for three long years
of self-imposed prison
choosing imaginary shackles
bound only by self
there are no winners here
no losers
only choices
choose freedom, life, your sanity
it’s time
let go

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Monday, November 13, 2006

Secret Tears

Your words
Tiny daggers
Casually tossed my way
The blood flows

Your stare
Molten lava
Burning my flesh
With its malice

Invisible tears
Flow in silence
Masked by the rush of water
From the showerhead

My wounds are hidden
Felt but never seen


Thursday, July 27, 2006

13 Things I Can't Do:

I saw this over at Don't Try This At Home and thought I'd give it a try.

1. I cannot draw. I can draw a reasonably recognizable horse's head, stick figures, some darn cute smiley faces, and a mean 3D 'cube,' but that, my friends, is not drawing.

2. I cannot be on time. I'm late, always. My extremely detailed plans for arriving early always manage to fail me and I end up being late yet again.

3. I cannot get out of bed without hitting snooze at least 3 times (hence #2).

4. I can't stop drinking Diet Coke. I've tried numerous times. I can cut back, even to only 1 per day, I've even gone a day or two without, but she always calls me back. Damn her!

5. I can't forgive him, ever.

6. I can't sew. I can sew a button on; I can sew a hem, depending on the fabric, but I can't make things.

7. I can't stop smoking, at least that's how I feel about it right now.

8. I can't get along with my mother while living in the same house with her.

9. I can't have a baby.

10. I cannot back any football team other than my home team!

11. I can't go more than 30 minutes (at work) without checking my email and/or my favorite websites.

12. I can't remember more than a few good things about my dad.

13. I can't believe in "god."

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Monday, March 13, 2006

The ABCs Revisited

I thought my "ABCs of Who I Wanna Be" might be a good thing to revisit from time to time, in order to keep my goals in mind. So, let's see how I'm feeling about myself today.


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Thursday, February 23, 2006

Start the Insanity!

Insanity. Some say it's the act of doing the same thing over and over while expecting different results.

I say it's an art form. Sanity is overrated. It's not fun. I also doubt that there are many people in the world who fit into the mold of sanity.

Here are some words that mean the same thing as sane (according to the Thesaurus).

Reasonable - Who wants to be reasonable? If I had a dollar for every time someone told me I was being unreasonable...

Fit, healthy - I'm overweight and lazy. These words do not apply to me currently.

Intelligent - OK, I am intelligent.

Judicious, level-headed - I don't have the best judgment when it comes to me. I give great advice to other people. I just don't follow it myself.

Logical - I'm hardly Vulcan.

Moderate - Moderation is not in my vocabulary. I overdo EVERYTHING!

Normal - Ahem, not.

Sagacious - Unfortunately I'm nearsighted, literally and figuratively. I love this word however.

Sage - I wish! Maybe when I'm older?

Sober - Um, I love beer. I prefer being drunk to sober. [grin]

Together - [sigh] I give the appearance of having my act together, but I really don't. Plus, I'm alone, the opposite of 'together!'

Wise - See sage.

So, although I'm not logical, one could logically assume from the above that I am insane.


Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Yes, Brownie. There Is A Santa Claus!

I've been so overwhelmed lately. I'm behind in almost every area of my life it seems. Today is the last day of my holiday baking, thank goodness! The deliveries start tomorrow. I still have to finish some Christmas shopping. I finally got some packages in the mail today. I've only half finished Mom's cross-stitch project which is supposed to be done, framed, wrapped, and under the tree by noon on Christmas day. I'm not exactly sure how that's going to happen as I'll be up baking tonight until midnightish (again), tomorrow after work I need to finish my shopping, Friday after work the band is playing, Saturday afternoon is the Browns - Steelers game...[sigh]. I'll find the time somewhere, I suppose. I always do...somehow; I find the energy, the money, and the time to get it all done. No one gets disappointed. Amazing.

It's funny how things somehow manage to magically happen around this time of year. A lady that I used to work with once told me that her granddaughter asked her if there really was a Santa Claus. Their conversation went something like this:

Granddaughter (GD) - "Grandma, is there REALLY a Santa Claus?"
Grandma (GM) - "Of course! Why would you ask that?"
GD - "Well, it's just that I'm 10 now...and...well...I'm pretty sure there's not. You don't have to lie to me anymore. I know he's not real."
GM - "Lie!?! I'm not lying. I know there must be a Santa Claus. I know I certainly believe in him. You can believe what you want to, but I believe he's real."
GD - "YOU still believe in Santa Claus? Are you kidding?"
GM - "Nope."
GD - "Come on. You can't be serious."
GM - "Serious as a heart attack."
GD - "OK. Why do you believe there's a Santa?"
GM - "All I know is that all year long I struggle. I struggle to make ends meet, to pay the mortgage, the car payment, the bills. I live from paycheck to paycheck always worried that some huge house or car repair might come up that I won't be able to afford."
GD - "Uh huh."
GM - "And then Christmas time comes around and somehow, miraculously, I have extra money. I have enough to buy gifts for your grandpa, your mommy and daddy, your aunts and uncles, your cousins, my friends, and anyone else I choose."
GD - "So, how does that prove there's a Santa?"
GM - "Well, who do you think makes that possible? If there's no Santa, how does that happen?"
GD - "Hmm, well...maybe you have a point."

It's kind of a simple story. Kind of makes you wonder though...doesn't it?

Monday, December 05, 2005


This is the first year in the past 5 that it didn't occur to me until after Thanksgiving had come and gone that I was supposed to be sad on Thanksgiving day. I guess I'm finally, truly, completely past it all.

I find it fascinating that even when one is happy about getting or being divorced, there's still a grieving process. I guess I'm done grieving. 5 years...

I suppose it's true what they say. It's takes approximately half of the time that you were with someone to get over that person once you split up.

The ex and I started dating when I was 16. We were married in '91, divorced in 2000. Sounds about right.

I'm just glad it's over with.


Monday, November 21, 2005

Simply Having A Wonderful Christmastime

Christmas is on the horizon. It's obvious, isn't it? The biting chill in the air, the snowflakes starting to fall, the winter coats, the scarves, the hats, stores filled with decorations, lights, cards, trees, wreathes, ornaments, stockings...they hit you at every turn.

For me, I truly know that the Christmas season has arrived once I hear the Salvation Army bell ringing.

I went to Walgreens this past Friday and there it was; the Christmas pot with its jolly bell-ringer by its side. It was bitter cold that day. I feel sorry for the bell-ringers. They always look so cold. I'm sure they feel snubbed and maybe even take it personally when no one drops money into their Christmas pot. It's a good cause. I usually drop in whatever change I have in my pocket, or a dollar or two if I've no spare change. That didn't feel like enough for me that day. After I left, I drove over to the gas station and bought a large cup of steaming coffee. I brought it back to her to help keep her warm while she was collecting for the needy.

It was another of those moments for me; a revelation. You know the feeling when you realize you're becoming your mother? It was one of those moments. I used to make fun of my mother for doing things like that. She used to serve lemonade or iced tea to the construction workers when they were out in front of her house. At the time, I thought it was odd...perhaps simple. I've learned over the years that she was just being herself, giving of herself. In a way it was simple, a simple act of kindness.

Maybe I've got the Christmas spirit bug. Maybe I'm trying to skip over Thanksgiving and go right to Christmas this year. Maybe I'm just thankful to be alive.

Or maybe it's all of the above.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Freedom From Me

these feelings
so odd
confusing the mind...
they leave me
more love?
less stress?
more time?
less complication?
but from what?
could it be me?