Thursday, June 28, 2012


image via:
I mostly feel like this
except my beverage would be a cuppa tea
or a hard drink depending on the mood swing.
I don't like to think that I have fallen into the group of gals that has PMS,
but as time has marched on it appears that I do have a hormonal swing or two
I find it so dismmissive that you can blame actions on hormones; I still refuse to accept that
So the other morning, I said I was sorry to The Barren.
It feels horrible, I don't want to be the crazed lady I feel like.
I try and keep things in check and run it through the seive in my brain before letting it out of my mouth and into the ether, never to be recovered.

I think I need to write some more love letters...
I feel pretty blue and lonely and I need to remind myself of who I love and why.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Skirting the Edge

This is a sound-off/bitch/whine ...I am trying to figure shit out I guess...
(my spell check isn't working, so excuse any errors please)

I am dizzy, dizzy from fear, and sadness and confusion and pain.
It is like my whole body has been bombarded for months with function, function function.
I am working hard on being stable and even.
I think I am feeling the snap of a relationship shifting to different paths, a bond change and my mind settle into knowledge.
I have been a friend to a woman who has become more and more difficult to talk to, she has become more and more caustic. She doesn't understand the way I communicate or my sense of humor...I am extremely aware of how and what I say around her. It is almost like I now need to prepare for a simple dinner or short conversation. She requires so much now that I am exhausted from trying. She snaps at me and often times I feel attacked for having opinions different then hers. Many years ago she told me the one thing she admired about me was that I seemed to not judge her. I was quite proud of I feel ONLY judged by her. Her body language changes around me, visibly. I am not sure what can be repaired or if it should be. I have spent a lot of time changing how I say things, how I repsond to things, and what I share with her. If anything now...

When I was finding out about my infertility she was there to listen as I shook and tried to describe what was being discovered about my body. She seemed overwhelmed and after a period of time, frustrated that she could not offer fixes for problems. I began to fall into my depression and after a while stopped accepting invitations to things with her, and her babies and friends that were pregnant. I became reclusive and started therapy for greif....she found other friends and was active with her life...I admired that and wanted to be that too. When I was finally working on my show, she was excited as I was moving and doing things again...she would invite me out and I wanted to go...oh I wanted to so badly, but I wasn't socially ready. So I would express interest but not go out. Then on the night after the show opened we had dinner, and in my glow I said thank you for coming to the opening and dinner to celebrate it and it was then that it started...she said why did you not ask for help? I looked at her trying to not cry and said " I didn't know how to"
She was by this time a mother of two healthy daughters, I had had a miscarriage by then and was about to have another two in the coming year. As time rolled on, she became much more uptight with me...she was far down on the list when I finally told her that I had another miscarriage, in fact I remember telling her and as I was expressing what had happened I was also telling myself: don't end this conversation on a sad note...she doesn't like that I am pessimistic. If I remember correctly I think she said, "well if you can think of it, at least I know you can get pregnant and I was a mom if even for a short time" I just smiled my mask smile and said
 " I don't think I can emotionally do this anymore"
she fell kind of silent.
More time has past and in this last weekend, we sat next to each other at a wedding reception and we barely spoke a word. I tried to talk to her, asking about benign topics,  I got a sidelook and a word or two repsonse. I told her I had been given a book that she was crazy about (but I had expressed not much interest in) and that I was thinking of taking a look at and she looked at me and reared back and started this crazy laugh and said  "see I tell you you'll like and you say no and then someone else tells you read this and you say ok, whatever! " I was shocked...I told her "well in my defence, it has been sitting on the table for a week, I still haven't opened it, so maybe I am still rebelling against it" she rolled her eyes and turned towards the music... and then
 I asked about another friend of hers, she snapped again.
" How's Janice? Do they have plans to go to South America this summer?"
She looked at me like I was trying to sell her rotten fish and said, "they go in the fall, why?"
and within that same breathe and with venom she asked about two other women friends of mine
"How's Molly and Sally? See them lately"  I was confused and overwhelmed. I was simply trying to make friendly talk about nothing in general and I struck some sort of cord....
*sigh* I drank a Mai Tai in silence with a smile on my face and then trying not to make it obvious, I looked at The Barren and he said we were going back to the hotel.
The following day her brother in law died.
I have seen her once since then and when I did I hugged her and and said nothing. I have been frightened to call and hear her voice so I have sent a couple text messages asking if they needed anything or if I could pick up something at the market for them.

At the same time I am trying to make new friends...any friends at this point and it is an uphill struggle now. As we age and sit in certain circles we don't meet a lot of new as easy as it might have been as a kid to meet and friend new people it is not the same as an adult.
I have been trying though...doing things and asking to meet people when the moment arises.
I was invited to join a couple gals the other night for yoga in one of their homes, a non-gym thing and I said I would love to.
They told me the day they normally do it on.
I got no further conversations or updates...I felt left out...I had been thinking about it all day and when the day came I wasn't invited, or so I appears that it didn't happen at all.
I am actually feeling jealous of witnessing friendships.
Maybe I have forgotten how to make friends?!

SO last night I sat down and wrote a love note to two of the people I have known a long time.
I felt that the world was spinning in the wrong direction and I needed to put some additional energy out that would hopefully swing that pendulum the other way.
Back to rainbows and glitter.
or at least me not wanting to cry or puke from heartbreak all the time

Friday, June 22, 2012

Penis Problem

OK so as I was driving home from my annual mammogram today, and I thought, boy I need some serious levity.
(everyone get a mammogram)
I am super bumming out everyone, including myself.
I had a good cry this morning, and fell asleep WAY too early last night..poor Barren.
He is a little worried about me.
So I thought, what made me laugh recently, and I remembered the call from Mom asking me to
"come fix her penises"

My parents home borders a public walking path. It has chain link fencing and is maintained mostly by the homeowners that butt up to this path. The city forgot about many many years ago.
So my mother felt that it should be a public art gallery.
They also live across the street from an elementary school and so kids walk to and from school
via this path everyday.
My mom writes notes in chalk on the ground wishing them a happy first day of school
and summer vacation and stuff like that.
Adorable, I know.
She has also COVERED her side of the chain fencing with painted boards that she has asked others to decorate. My grandmother, myself, my father, my niece and get the idea.
Well recently, she thought it a great idea to leave extra white painted boards beside the fence to offer up the opportunity for other kids in the neighborhood to paint and she would hang them for all to see.
She goes out and checks the fence every few days, and finds a new piece from someone hung via zip ties and is simply over the moon about it.

a few little monsters have found this same oasis of adorable and started drawing penises on some of the artwork:

He doesn't look to bothered

this fish may never blow number bubbles again

poor purple dino/giraffe
So every once in a while I get a call from mom that asks me to come over with a box of paint and
"fix her penis problem"

Penises are funny, and little boy/girl versions of what penises can do
is always good for a laugh with me!

Thursday, June 21, 2012

The condition of being mortal

So I have had a really strange week or two, it doesn't come as a total surprise that my dreams would reflect this reality.
I am thinly veiled that way.

To start with a childhood friend was just diagnosed with breast cancer.
It appeared between yearly mammograms in one breast.
 She was considering a prophylactic double mastectomy to avoid cancer showing up in the second breast; but, while waiting for labs, a period of two weeks, additional lumps in the first and new ones in second breast appeared.
She is a mother of two boys, one of which had a long battle with cancer himself, and is currently in remission.
It is events like this that make me question life and a higher being.

As I was bra shopping the other day, all I could think about was her. She and her mom took me bra shopping for my first bra, I think we had "mosquito bites" (that is what my Nana use to say)
She is not going to have breasts any more. All I could think about is how selfish of me to be so concerned about finding a bra that wouldn't show through my tee shirt.
This shopping trip was followed by a road trip to a friends wedding, The Barren was playing guitar for the wedding march with one of the brides uncles, it was the first public performance for the Barren so I went to witness this big event.
The bride is a professional dancer, who married a navy seal.
The church was near base, and so there were a lot of military families around. In fact, the whole town was pouring over with babies, pregnant women and toddlers.
There were hours of talk about babies and starting families and it all made sense.

The base felt like a haunted waiting room.
Loved ones leaving and others waiting for months, year after year.
It broke my heart and gave me a new and deeper appreciation for military families.
New brides and new parents.
It broke my heart and made me cling to The Barren even more.

The following day, Father's day, some of the brides family was gathered at an aunts home.
An uncle, went upstairs and never came down.
It was quite a shock, and totally unexpected.
This Uncle was the brother to the other musician that played in the wedding.
A friend to The Barren
Death seems to be all around me right now

And then today, I awoke from a dream that has me scratching my head.
I had a dream I had IVF done, on a whim. My eggs were projected onto an overhead projector for us to see prior to insemination. They were flat oblong shapes, three of them. Like, grains of rice, broken and poorly shaped.
I had them inseminated and then was told to have an orgasm to "set them deeply into my uterus"
We went to a movie theatre afterwards that was filled with people I recognised from high school. Unaged and staring at me.
I began to have a panic attach and grabbed The Barren and was crying
" I can't do this, these babies will never grow, they are all broken.
I can't go through all this pain again"

Then I woke up

 I am not sure I know what this means...I am feeling loss
In newer and deeper ways maybe?
I know I do feel lost

Tuesday, June 05, 2012

The Why Am I's

photo via My Vintage Dollhouses

So every once in a while I want to organize my life.
I end up doing a half-assed job; doing enough to make the frantic beeping in my head stop and then move on to other tasks.
I am easily distracted by my own "to-do" list.

About two weeks ago, the community fire alarm went off and I was home working so I went to see what it was. It ended up being a sprinkler that blew in a neighbors garage, flooding it and drenching the contents. No fire, thank goodness...but it took over 4 hours to turn off the water!
The renter had all his work tools in the garage and what wasn't in a plastic box, was soaked.
The fire dept, couldn't turn off the water, because it was managed by the fire sprinkler company who couldn't come out until later that day to reset the sprinklers and the alarm people needed to stop the alarm but couldn't do it until the water was turned off. You see how this turned out...the "best part" was that the alarm for the sprinkler is not connected to a central call center/dispatch place. So it is really up to fellow neighbors to call police or fire department people.
If I wasn't home who knows how much longer that water would have poured into the garage and street!
I felt horrible for the neighbor, but more so frightened for our homes well being in our absence, because we don't really have outgoing neighbors.
If something happened to our home, I fear no one would call the people needed.
 Everyone would say " huh, why is that alarm going off? it is really bothering me" close their window and go about their business.
Sad but true. We live in a community of disconnected people.
(being the crazy lady I am, I am making a sheet of phone numbers of neighbors I say hello to on a regular basis and giving them our cell numbers too)

This of course set me into a personal tailspin of what ifs....
I started looking around our home and thinking of everything that would be destroyed by water, the cats would be traumatized but alive and wet. Then I went into our garage...ugh
We have collected many many many things. In fact when grandma's have passed we were delivered many boxes of "precious items" and "heirlooms" that we must have.
Plus my art exhibitions and framed work etc....
I went out and got a storage unit.

I spent this whole last weekend working through the boxes, and boxes of things...I have a hoarder living inside me apparently. We have boxes and boxes of things for the garage sale at the end of the month, and a pile of things that is going to the local thrift store.
But we also have several things in that new locker....mostly my things.
The biggest being my dollhouse.
My parents made me a doll house for my 7th birthday, it took several months to make. It was worked on every night in secret in their bedroom. They made it from discarded orange crates and found wood at the local market. My father created a wooden floor in the kitchen with a wood burning tool. The cupboards are made from butter dishes turned on their sides and scrap lace made the curtains. Each room has different carpet, as they are all scraps from the local carpet store. The roof is hinged as once the doll house was complete my parents realized it wouldn't fit through the bedroom door!
There is a picture of me next to the house on the day I got it, I am standing on a chair and doll house is next to me but still taller then I am.
Later, they made my brother a mechanics garage with fuel pumps and an attached home (kind of Sanford and Son-ish) using the same techniques.  
Needless to say, I am deeply, emotionally attached to this doll house
and I imagined I would pass it on to my child.
I have kept all the items that had, for years, decorated the home
and it seems more of a time capsule then anything else now.
It is substantial and takes up a lot of floorspace.

When hubby causally mentioned getting rid of it I broke down and started sobbing.
 How can I?!
(that question was never broached again)
We moved the doll house into the storage unit on Sunday, it has been entombed in many ways.

My brother is not sentimental with things, so I asked him how he can throw away/give away things that are so deeply linked to his childhood. Does he not have second guesses or regrets?
He simple said: they don't mean anything to anyone else but me. So why keep them?

 I am left dumbfounded...
I can't think of a person who it would mean something to besides myself.
In fact, that is the impression I am getting about much of what I can't seem to let go of.
old love letters, stories I wrote in elementary school that sheds light on my mind and emotions then.
Who am I holding on to this for? Why do I still need to know that it is there?

I feel at times that I am making strides in coming to terms with not being able to be a mother, and then stuff like this sneak attacks me.
It was like, The Barreness turned on the fire sprinkler and drenched me in the memories and the what should have beens. 

Until I can figure it out, I place them into plastic tubs and store them away.
At least I can keep them dry.