I'm just a girl trying to find her own custom groove in this world without bending to the expectations of others.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
I am interrupting my normal posts to submit a story in The Scheherazade Project. The story is in the post below. Please, don't feel the need to worry about me or my state of mind. The story was based on how I felt at one time, but I'm okay now, really.
PS: Feel free to leave any criticism.
She wondered if she could kill herself by simply holding her breath. No, she rationalized, she’d pass out first and her body’s instincts would take over to keep her alive. She imagined the reaction of her family finding her motionless after swallowing a mixture of the pain killers and anti-depressants the hospital had given her.
No one seemed to be grieving the way she was. Nobody shared the emptiness in her body and soul. After all, she never knew the baby that had lived inside her for more than half a year. And she was young, she could always have another. That’s what everyone said anyway, hoping to make her feel better, but in the end making her feel even more desolate.
She was alone. Her baby was gone. Life as she knew it was gone. She twisted the cap off the bottle and let one pill slip down her throat. Then another, and another…until the contents of the bottle filled the emptiness in her belly.
Monday, June 26, 2006
My visions of tooling up the coast, hair whipping in the summer wind, stopping for wine tasting and beach combing were dashed the minute we turned up that dusty, "seasonal--not-maintained-by-the-county", two-track road.
We were simply going to check on a future job site, chat for a few minutes and get back to enjoying our vacation in Northern Wine Country. We didn't intend on staying the whole afternoon, we didn't intend on sharing their vegetarian dinner and we certainly didn't intend on drinking home made beer around the campfire into the dark hours of the night. But that's exactly what happened.
The couple, who were actually an ex-couple but still "get together" regularly were very persistent about our staying. He was a cross between Santa Claus and Willie Nelson with his silver pony tail tucked inside itself and wrapped with multiple rubberbands. She was a thin, long haired thing with yellow, rubbery skin and carried a faint scent of sandalwood. She looked perpetually stoned, but they were the nicest, most generous and genuine people you'd ever care to meet.
We met them again for lunch the next day at a perfect little Micro Brewery called "Shorts" for cheese pizza and a couple Growlers (a 64oz jug filled with whichever home brew you choose) before we parted ways for the rest of the weekend.
More observations and events from my mini-vacation as time allows....
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Monday, June 19, 2006
Good riddance, I didn't much care for you to begin with.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
You were right Meritt, we did find all our lobster paraphanalia at Target. We split the cost and plan to share the goodies, so it's just like 2/$1, right? Doesn't the setting look fun?
Even our guys humored us by wearing the corny lobster chef hats we bought. Even though it was 90 degrees and humid. Don't feel too badly for them. They kept cool with Pina Coladas and wheat beer.
Here's the killing. By the expressions on the faces, there's no need to explain the picture. I was standing further away than it appears so I couldn't see or hear anything. Thank goodness for the zoom feature.
I didn't have a problem serving them up though.
You would have been proud Theresa. I made a huge mess with mine and even have a blood blister from the "claw cracker". We also had cocktail shrimp, king crab legs and corn on the cob. We forgot about the pineapple and no one saved room for the ribs, so we ate those the next night.
This was the last picture we took before we retired to the hot tub for the rest of the evening.
Friday, June 16, 2006
What I'm not prepared for is the killing of these poor creatures. I was so hoping they'd arrive dead having been packed in ice for their commute, but not so. They are coming in a "live crate" with gel ice packs. They will be alive and kicking. I do believe you have to put them head first into boiling water to kill them but the "screaming" you hear is only the air escaping from their shell. And I heard that you can hear them banging against the side of the pot. The nice gentlemen on the other end of the line tried to relax my anxiety by telling me that they don't have vertabrae or a central nervous system and don't feel pain. I'll choose to believe this because I honestly wont be able to kill them. If left up to me, I'll have six pet lobsters come Saturday morning.
Yes, I know ribs used to be alive too, Mr. A,JA, but I'm not the one that actually had to witness their demise or worse, be the cause of it. I feel a little sick to my stomach even thinking about it. And then, what if I don't like them? OH! I wonder if it's too late to cancel the order.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
She was nominated by a teacher and accepted by members of the Congressional Board to attend the Congressional Youth Leadership Council in January to represent our district. It's a four day conference in which she will learn leadership development (self-awareness, leadership techniques, presentation skills and group dynamics) and then she'll be able to practice leadership skills (conflict management, decision making and project management).
I feel it's an opportunity of a lifetime and she's equally excited about going even though she'll have to make a presentation in front of 430 Congress members and who-knows how many other students. Did I mention she's only going to be a freshmen next year?
Friday, June 09, 2006
I had such a stress-free childhood really, with so many fond memories that I can't help but long for those times. Life doesn't seem to be as simple for kids today.
Rather than fighting the reminiscing, I decided to embrace it by taking a "tour of the past". I gathered some appropriate CD's and set out on my own. I visited lots of the places that I think about often as well as a few that I haven't thought of in years. At the park, I imagined a younger me, tossing a softball from the pitchers mound and an even younger version of me playing on the monkey bars that sit adjacent to that park.
This was the park where I hit my first home run, and there was the Ice Cream Hut where the coach took me afterward for a malt. The same place I would later be employed - leaning out the window on my teenage elbows looking for cute boys.
There were the Monkey Trails where I rode my bike (against the rules) and ran into a couple of older boys who took great delight in teasing me.
And there was the house with the rhubarb from this post!
The curve on the gravel road where Wendy was killed in a tragic accident after a party.
The yard where we used to play baseball and where I experienced my first kiss.
There was the house of my first boyfriend whom I still think so fondly of, and the porch we used to sit on dreaming about what we wanted to do.
The culvert where we used to wade, catching frogs.
I found the raspberry bushes that we used to pick clean every year.
I even drove past my old house. The trees and bushes are much bigger and you can catch a glimpse of the in-ground pool that we spent so many hot hours in between the shrinking slats of wood fence.
Then I went past my best friend's house and stopped in front of the lane leading to the forest creek that I described in this post and then continued on up to the bank where I opened my first checking account.
So many memories were swirling on the dusty gravel roads making me long for those times even more. A grief counselor once told me of Owen after he died, "you tend to glorify him as a perfect baby, but no doubt, there would have been times that he'd cry and keep you up at night and you'd become frustrated". I thought of this as I finished up my tour. I remember the dreams I had for myself and the life I envisioned myself living and it's not even close to today's reality, but I recalled the statement from the counselor. I know now that I'm idolizing an alternate future for myself. One that surely would have had just as many disappointments and heartaches as my current life. And living that alternate reality, I'd erase all the wonderful things that happened to me as an adult.
Although it's sometimes difficult, I'm on the road that I'm meant to be on, I can rest assured in that.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
...at the Kenny Chesney concert in Grand Rapids, MI. After whining on Friday about not being able to go to the concert, Chesneygirl sent me to an eBay link that had tickets up for auction. She then gave me her cell number in case I was able to win them. I didn't! But, I found another person who was desperately trying to part with four floor tickets and I snatched them up. I called Chesneygirl to tell her the good news and we made tentative plans to meet at the BOB, where I would call her again to find her.
So we headed downtown at 5pm and parked relatively easy despite the fact that it was a sold out show and the Art Festival was also going on. One of my neighbors went with us and we got in the long line to gain entry into the BOB. That's when I was certain I saw Chesneygirl in line. I recognized her hair from the back - I'm really not sure how, so I called her cell phone to see if it was her. I saw the girl fumbling for the phone in her purse and she answered, "Hello?".
"OMG, where are you?" Me
"I'm just going into the BOB." CG
"I KNOW!! I'm right behind you" Me
We spent the next hour and a half taking pictures and chatting while I tried to win "Sand Bar" tickets and then we walked to the concert together where we immediately got separated. She did manage to find me between Dierks Bentley and Kenny to rub in my face how awesome the Sand Bar really was. Pthththt. I didn't see her again after that.
But it was so awesome to meet you Chesney. You're just as fun in person as you appear on your blog. And maybe, just maybe, we'll meet you down at MIS in your big ol party bus! :) Here's a picture of Kenny when he entered back by where I was. Let me know if you want me to email you any pictures.