Smelt for Dinner

I am aware this is an uncommon delicacy. I can devour a mess O' smelt with the hunger of a starved woman. And that I did. The sensuous nature of preparation and anticipation for the taste of these small gems highlighted my Saturday night.

It's been a busy weekend and I can't seem to focus my mind. The ping pong ball nature of my thoughts is driving me nuts.

I need to get back to basics. Good friends, good books a really good moon and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.

4 days til my next retreat from life. I'm hoping it will cure my current neurosis.

Ode' to Insomnia

I doubt it's a coincidence that the only lines I ever memorized were these from Robert Frost:

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Much of life feels like that to me, so much so that sometimes I actually recite these lines in my head as I convince myself to put in just one more day, one more hour, one more minute, the battle against devastation done in increments. But there are days like today when it's good to rebel against ole' Robert.

Today was one of those days. It started out well - I learned that I triumphed over the dastardly forces of circumstance. That in itself was enough to put a smile on my face for the whole day. Then I spent much of my afternoon in the plastics arena. Had to squelch Maureen from a late night visit. It felt better to go through it alone tonight. The moon is almost full again which brings up horrid conversations with Phil regarding the moon - vs - water - vs - women. His subintellect is almost endearing.

And night decends. Two plates of dog cookies and to many minutes alone finds me on my knees on the kitchen rug hoping I am going to keep myself together one more night. I wrap my arms around me trying to feel life, I'm slipping again.

Details are of no meaning. I'm going have to dig deeper in order to get out of this hole I have fallen into.

Darn details...

Don't Save the Last Dance for Me

Walking the streets of my neighborhood this evening, I noticed the tranquility of the sprinklers whirring on the golf course with that swoosh noise. It's comfortingly familiar. All the houses are dark with their occupants safely sleeping inside. A lone coyote calls his mating melody in the still of the dark of the night somewhere hidden down the golf. I walked and walked as I passed the sleepy world that unfurled around me; one lonesome insomniac making her way through a life that is suddenly brand new. Paws is oblivious to my melancholy and exhaust as he is happy to have an evening walk.
I missed Phil deeply as I walked alone with my thoughts this evening. I wondered if we could have worked things out and stayed together. But I surrender.

Lazy Thursday Night

It’s Thursday night and I am curled up in my lazy boy listening to my Ipod, specifically the new Bon Jovi album, and I write in my paper journal. There is something so empyreal about putting pen to paper in a tangible and old fashioned way. This feels like giving the craft of writing the appreciation it deserves.

I stop to take a drink of wine as the phone rings. I don’t answer. I let my answering machine pick up. It's someone I met at the wine bar and gave my phone number to. I was uninterested then and I am now. Hell, I am not going to call you, I think. I have had enough of all that bullshit. The message ends as he hangs up. I continue writing.

Paw Paws walks into the living room and plops down in front of the fireplace next to my chair. I reach down and rub his head and scratch his back. He is in ecstasy.

I look for purpose in my night and tell myself lies about how well I am doing.

I am alone and have to face myself in this condition. I'm going to put an end to this evening. I walk around to lock up the house and Paws wanders off to go peek out the front window to check out the neighborhood dogs. He's apparently seen something of interest as he his barking insistently. I'm glad he is coming out of his depression. He hates telling his friends that he is from a broken home and has been withdrawn lately. The stigma of it all. I call him to come to bed and he ambles faithfully beside me down a long hallway. We settle in.

Everyday, I say I am going to quit blogging. Everyday, I keep on writing. It's my word addiction. Until I am published, I know someone reads me. And yes, I had publishing doubts last night, but I have to keep it burning in order to get there. So I say the "P" word again tonight.

I find it odd that I share things on this journal with people I will never meet. I share things that I would never share with people in my actual life. It must be a product of my introverted personality trying to get out.

Spangled with Stars

Tonight's sky

It is late afternoon. I am bored and have read my fill of the internet and completed my share of plastics. I wander to A.J's on the corner in the hot afternoon sun, hoping for dinner inspiration. The day has been brutal. It shows on the faces of strangers scurrying from air conditioned market to air conditioned car. There is a desperation for escape from the torrid temperatures that isolates people.

Summer Solstice is upon us. The longest day of the year. Rather apprapoe in my current life. I can take refuge in the fact that I have recently spent some long days and if this is the longest, it must start to get easier now. Something to look forward to.

My book is not really coming together. It has been years since I have been so consumed with writing something other than this blog. I lie awake in bed thinking about where I will take my characters next and how to describe their surroundings and experiences. It's such a welcome distraction. I don't know if I will ever get published, but still…the book will be a product of me and I have poured my heart and soul into it. Something to leave behind.

Late night just descended with a thud. These late hours are hardest on the insomnia addled soul. I sat for the longest time listening to Coast to Coast AM. The thing I notice the most as I wander around begging for sleep is that there is a clear sky spangled with thousands of stars. I inhaled and exhaled deeply enjoying the night air as a welcomed calmness and peace overcame me. I realized I was exactly where I needed to be in life.

Prologue

Beginnings are exciting, even when motivated by fear.

Fear not that which is new, embrace changes.

I changed my name, I changed my phone service provider. I changed my old life in for this scarey new journey that I am now traveling. I am getting a pretty good return for a change. Instead of laundry, I tie flies. Instead of cooking, I devoure words. Instead of cleaning this house, lying in the sun. Instead of content family life, I search for adventure wherever I can find it. And I am finding it on the corner in the wine bar, at some airport that I happen to find myself in, at the top of Squaw Peak mountain, in unimagined destinations that now fuel my imagination.

I'm moving this mountain one pebble at a time.

I've changed my mind

"As a Man Thinkith"

I am trying to be less morose and lighten up this poor depressed blog. The writers that I now hang out with all seem to have humor in their stories while I continue to whine about my meager existance. The piece that Mel wrote regarding me was a lesson in perspective!

Nikki and Emo (aka: Amara, his real name) arrived to work with me this morning. They began trickling in around 9 AM as I can't get my lazy ass out of bed before 7:30 anymore. Nikki was first to arrive. We began with an unmotivated spirit and procrastinated about plastics. Our diversion was to dig in to the closets and purge this house of final remainders of my marriage. We had a grand time sorting through it, as we always do when we pull out old memories. It wasn't long before work ethic was disgarded altogether and the living room was littered with boxes of boxes of memories. We spent the morning sorting it in to piles. The stuff she wanted, Phil's stuff and the stuff I am going to burn. The scheduled bonfire will be theraputic. It's a cleansing feeling to have rid this house of my disinigrated past.

Emo, being late as usual walked into our chaos as if it were the norm. Rather than question, he donned iPod and screwdriver and went to work. He spoke no more than 10 words during his entire shift. I sure hope he gets comfortable here this summer. I've done my best to make him feel welcome. I even cooked for him! But I think he was more of a victim than a guest as I have been desperate to cook (as Mel so eloquently writes about). Maybe I should cook for Mel!

I kicked everyone out by noon because I have had enough interaction with people today. I finished moving the piles of books and boxes to another wall so I don't trip over them in the dark when I have had my share of wine tonight. Pawpaws looks forlorn because it's to hot to be outside, so I have mercy on him and we went to the McDonald's drive through. This seems to have satisfied him. He now lays on the 3 X 3 square of tile in front of the fire place. The coolset spot in the house. I on the other hand, need to clean myself up and go to class. (GCC = my version of AA) I am in need of some serious learning.

Perhaps I am stronger than I think.

BMW MISONEISTIC

The demise of my marriage is obvious. It stems from my lack of shoes and a BMW.

The shoe problem I have conquered. They are new and expensive and walking all over this house. I think if I had paid as much attention to myself as I paid to Phil, I might have been a more interesting partner. He certainly had expensive shoes, but it didn't make him more interesting to me. Lesson learned, invest more in shoes and less in the man.

The BMW is another story. We are forced to spend days together on occasion. And though I can appreciate it's beauty, luxury and comfortable ride I hate it's arrogant attitude and mid-life crisis symbolism. It tends to attempt to make me feel inferior because of it's seemingly complex self, but in reality, it is a machine that is incredibly flawed. So similar to my ex-husband. Each pretending to be something better than they really are.

This phallic symbol of success is my nemesis.

But I try to get along.

That is until I am driving to the mall and cannot find the right button to do whatever I need done so I resort to voice recognition commands. Like my ex-husband, the car doesn't listen and it too, turns a deaf ear to me but offers it's own opinions. I ask for the satellite radio station to be changed and I get it's reasoning voice telling me he is changing to AM radio because he seems to think he knows best. I try not to get annoyed when I have to ask a second time. And it occurs to me I am being much to polite with the car because every time I say "please" he hears place and gives me some navigation bullshit. I learned not say thank you out loud because he gives me "altitude" information. Which brings up a whole new subject. When speaking to the robots in our lives, are we to be polite and ask please and thank them? Or do we just adopt a cold attitude and appreciate their servitude from afar?

In frustration yesterday I yelled "fuck you" at / to the car because I just wanted him to turn the radio down and all I got was climate control. I guess he was trying to cool me off.

Keeping my Soul Intact

Crisis at the keyboard continues. I know it is my job to write and the excuse of writer's block is just that. Executives and factory workers are not afforded the luxury of calling in with worker's block. The same principal must apply to me. Discipline lives in the fiery sadness of my soul. The truth of the situation is; if there are no tears in the writer, there will be no tears in the reader. Maybe I can harness this pain into a masterpiece and stop these craven moments that occupy my time.

My current peer group criticism's include the fact I am an adjective maniac (or adjectiveaholic) I already knew this. Yet I throw myself on the mercy of strangers to reitorate. So I am attempting to have a perspective party and put things in to perspective with tonight's blog wafer.

WHY DO WE ALWAYS WAIT?

I dug out the emotions and laid them on the carpet underneath my feet and attempt to tromple them in to some sort of order. No matter how hard I squash them, they keep rising to the surface. I don't want to feel what they have to offer. I don't want the gripping truth to speak aloud but would prefer to live in the fantasy of a miracle cure. I can no longer hold myself to the past and have to feel the future. The future feels like an enemy and speaks to me of the anger of having been a fool and the uncertainty of the tunnel I find myself crawling through with no light at the end that has always been promised.

I don't know who I am and I don't know why.

Tears just come and I am aggrivated at myself for them.

I am raw and have never in my life experienced this wealth of emotional turbulance that propels me every day.

I spent my whole life thinking one way, and am now forced to look in a completely different direction. I have hope mingled in the pain. I am a different person than I was

I feel alive. Why did I wait so long.

In the Margins

Without inspiration for the past 10 days I find myself struggling and scavenging for words. I have a mental cramp that I just can't shake. Even with the current wealth of encouragement and resources that surround me, I am still looking to the thesaurus for inspiration. But only find synonyms and antonyms that do not have a story to tell.

It seems that since I actually started writing, attending class and peer group meetings, my writing has come to a complete halt. Don't know if this is because I was such a closet writer in the past and am now finding myself fully exposed. I possess a sheepish attitude about admitting my need to write. Compare it to an alcoholics need to drink. We do it quietly and cover up the truth of our addiction. I have to publicly admit, I am addicted. I write journals and letters. I write on this blog daily and archived most of the entries. I write in the margins and on napkins. I carry around endless numbers of legal pads and notebooks. I would rather write than hold a conversation. Currently I have 20 plus writing projects underway and all of them going nowhere. The book project is screaming for my attention. My need is to find focus. But maybe the first step to my recovery is admission.

Hi, I am Julie and I am a writer.

The past week I have been traveling. The destination was not as memorable as the journey. I found myself out of my element going through airports, hailing taxis, riding trains and trams, talking to strangers and simply being on my own in the world. This exposure to life has proven to be exactly what was needed to reinvigorate my recently bruised soul. My plane home was cancelled leaving me stranded in the Las Vegas airport. The problem at the time, seemed insurmountable but the experience in the end became the catalyst for my healing. I recognized a fellow traveler, also now stranded and engaged her in conversation. We brainstormed the best escape route from this town. We had hours to kill and decided to have dinner together, along with a third stranger that we collected along the way. We three woman sat in a dark restaurant exchanging life stories. Jodi works for CNN and Kaye is an oil tycoon in Texas. Feeling inadequate in their company I didn't want to admit to just having a manufacturing line in my home. My insecurity overshadowed my personality. But as drinks and conversation flowed, I admitted to being a writer - yes out loud and in public, and this admission melted the conversations into books, current and recently read titles. This is a subject that I can hold my own with. I talked animatedly of my recent reads and thoughts on each of them. I spoke of Al Gore's first book, An Inconvenient Truth, and mused aloud about his new release. Of course Wayne Dyer was fondly mentioned as well as favorite authors, Marianne Williamson, Esther and Jerry Hicks and deeper literary giants such as the Course in Miracles. As my mind flowed free sharing the wealth of knowledge that books have offered me, I suddenly realized, people might find me interesting. I can hold my own with people of substance.

It was an eye opening moment. I am no longer someones wife or simply a mother to my kids. I am a woman with a big life and intend to live it!

Amuse My Blog

I had an urge for an upgrade. This will do.

I am adding readers and writer's links. If you would like your blog or webpage listed here, please send a link to Julie for consideration.

4, 3, 2 Down to One

Happily down to one, I find myself on my way to my next adventure in four days. This time, I'm looking forward to getting on a plane and let it take me to three mindless days two states away. This is a weekend to reconnect, even though it begins on a Monday.

My single self has single behavior. I cooked my dinner and then ate it out of the pan. I have never done this in my life, but couldn't fathom dirtying a dish. And it made me laugh.

Spent a great portion of the day writing and it was an alphabet aphrodisiac.

The gauntlet is to be published, and a personal goal. But I have extreme writer's disquitetude about my words. Don't want them read, but realize I have to expose myself.

Getting in the flow is getting easier with the book in the oven and my classes and the peer groups are offering confidance. Vickie and I have a challenge as to who will be published first. I am stubbornly determined.

My day concluded with Cowboy wisdom, poetic words, pink skys and a big moon.

And last word, you can talk brilliantly about a problem, but once you invoke action, expect a masterpiece born from the wisdom thereof.

Nothing for granted

This probably borders on child abuse, but she had a soft place to fall.

I abused my employees a bit today in demanding they complete 200 externals in 1 shift. They are complete. It took 14 hours and my brain now echos with the grumbling and complaints that were free flowing around about 2 PM. I have no sympathy, as none of them started with me at 5 AM. That was a task!! This proved to myself these difficult deadlines are obtainable, as they were all along. Honest labor bears deep satisfaction at the days end.

Miss Emma came to work today!! And we have the complaints from Drazena to prove it!

She was a bright spot in every one's day! She had a word or two of wisdom for everyone and when no one was listening, she simply danced. She has an entire choreographed routine that made us stop and laugh. She has an enchanting way of engaging people. If you sit back and watch her, she eminates pure joy. I sat back a lot today, and watched. Most people have an almost infinite capacity for taking things for granted. Emma teaches me another way. Live intensely in the present moment. We have nothing else.

Under Construction

I hate weekends and this one is particularly hard. I won't let this be a source of discouragement, but rather, fresh stimulus. So I am easing my way along this treacherous path which I now find myself. Some days its great big planes and open sky. And other times, the scary road and snow. It's snowing like crazy tonight and that road is scaring the hell out of me. But a wise man recently told me, while on that road, just put on blinders and keep going.

Michel and I had an amazing day. It started with my bad mood towards his laziness. I couldn't help but make my feelings known while he stared at a mindless TV while I scrambled to get him ready for this trip. I finally threw up my hands and shared a few words with him. I can't say he sprung in to action, but he got it. We stood at the kitchen counter, the spot in the corner where all messages are left for one another. Together we formulated a game plan to get him on his way and then we got on our way to get it all done. Starting at the bank we changed dollars into Euros and got over the shock of the bad change it was, $1,000 US = $731 Euros. Stopped at the optometrist to order contacts for 3 months and then let our stomachs do the talking. We went to Cheesecake Factory before the anticipated shopping trip......

And as we sat there at that table in the round room in the back looking across from each other, he just started talking. And there was no stopping the flood of words. It was the most honest communication we have ever shared. We talked. He told me of his teachers and how he feels about higher education. He talked about his friends and the mistakes they have made and the things they do. He went in to his imagination of what he would do after high school and pondered the changes that were coming. He talked about France and surmised that he would lose much weight there, because he was apprehensive of the food he might encounter. We talked about girls and girlfriends. He told me lengthy stories and bad jokes. We ate. We shared calamari and fries.

The entire afternoon flowed in to a sweet memory that I will always have. I forced him to shop for clothes and he pretended to hate it. The result was exceptional!! He is ready to go, as far as garments. The top of the day, was the haircut. This is a sore subject, as he wants it to grow with wild abandon and never comb or care for it. The result makes him look like "cousin it". So I took him to Teresa. His experience in her shop was great. When I enter Teresa's shop, there is just an air of everybody talks to everybody and we mingle and laugh. She is such a pure soul. We entered, she hugged me, she assessed Michel's hair and sat him right down. And the entire shop, employees and clientele, became involved in his story of "going to France". It was a half hour of shop talk. He was comfortable and she did a great job!! He feels good about himself and I am thoroughly satisfied about the day.

I called Phil to tell him about the successful day, because it was a milestone for Michel and I wanted to share his son's enthusiasm. He was less than interested and I was sorry I called. How a parent leaves a child for their own selfish reasons, I will never grasp. Michel has been given a big life to overcome, as both of his parents have now done this to him. As with Vickie, I had to spend time with the man to get to the child on the other side that needed me. I was supposed to be here for Michel. Here I am.

There are times in every ones life when something constructive is born of adversity..... when things seem so bad you've got to grab your fate by the shoulders and shake it!

Good Gourd

The essence of life in my plants is the first thing I see each day. My groggy self wanders around my yards first thing every morning. I bid everything good morning, and they bid me right back. Complete satisfaction is watching something or someone grow. I ask each morning as I wander around my living environment, what's in store for me now. The answer seems to be; dare to ask, be willing to listen, and prepare to act.

I am humbled by my blessings, even though I scramble still to hold myself together. These emotions that insist upon pouring out are the stuff of great books or at least a blog entry or two.

Michel leaves for Europe in 9 days. He's the last person left that will leave me. It's unsettling, yes. I have no one else to take care of. I'm sure it's now meant to be that I take care of myself. I am really ready for this new era. Poingnant promise of something new.

I have such good friends to lean on while I make this journey. Whatever our struggles, our doubts, and our fears, we are never alone.

Thank You D.

Conclusions

Paperwork today put and end to what I thought was the rest of my life. But a signature and a check concludes that. I am in awe of the destiny that life has for me. It's apparently more than I saw coming myself. And so, I am just going to be grateful for heartache's inspiration and the constant flow of writing that now occupies my nights as a result. My life is so much bigger than before. I have been wrenched in to getting to know me. And we are getting to be good friends.

The lesson served up is, it's my own fault I choose to live for everyone else and put myself in the backseat.

So on the return trip now, the message is to slow down. Life has big things to offer if you ask. Though you don't always like the answer, its simple truth. Acceptance is my path.

Stepping in to Tomorrow

An afternoon with Wayne Dyer has provided me with a complete shift in perception.

His energy is contagious and I walked away from this with a renewed energy of my own. The message he delivered, though profound and extremely quotable, left me with the realization to just not take life so seriously. Life's moments are always going to exist. It's how we react to them that makes us the kind of person we are going to be. Acceptance was the key that he gave me. Trying to understand, plot and plan my life, grappling with constant details, making rules and regulations, putting everything in to order is like, grasping a handful of water. It's a fruitless quest. Just be one with life. It's already decided.

So I decide to live in the flow. Let it happen. I can't stop a thing. I am an observer, a humble witness and grateful participant.

Singing at the top of my lungs

Living alone is kind of liberating. There are simply no obligations. Kitchen is a mess? Who cares. Laundry is piling up, so be it. And though I have not cooked in months now, I find myself preparing food with a different mindset. It's not because I feel like I should, but it's because I want to. I am no longer trying to prove myself. I am getting to know me. I am trying to impress myself, and I think I am falling for me.

Emma was here today. To put in to words the feeling that I have for that child is simply impossible. She is more enlightened than us all. She prefaces everything that she says with; "Grandma" Grandma you OK?, Grandma where's Mike? Grandma I love you.

We started the day dancing in the great room. She learned to twirl in country style and I learned to live in the moment. We went to the lake to feed ducks but it was so hot we quickly concluded that... and chatted all of the way home about the sun.

We tended her garden and she watered the bamboo. Once again, everything makes sense.

Stuck in a Moment

At 3 AM there is lazy apathy for any enthusiasm. Had an amazing weekend and I would love to be lost in those two days forever. My return home brought back the ugly flood of emotion, anger and pain. But given the hour and lack of sleep, it's only for a moment.

My reality is the return of spirit and faith. I simply feel happy. Now I have another problem,

happiness is now not good enough for me. I demand euphoria!

Taking the Leap

I've never traveled. I've never ventured out and I have certainly never done it on my own. Times are a changing. I leave Friday morning for a souful destination and head toward liberty. This part of this is for sure a lesson in my growth. Life is change, growth is optional. I intend to choose wisely.
Happy Birthday Emma. I love you