On clutter...

I spent the majority of the first 18 years of my life living in hovels.  My dad had a hard time keeping a job and my mom tried her best but daycare just doesn’t pay well.  So we could never really afford a house big enough for all of us.  There were a couple of times we got to spend a few months living in a house that had a room for everyone…but not often.  Most of the time, we ended up in a two bedroom house.  My brother and I would get our own rooms and my parents would sleep in the den/living room.  There was always “stuff” everywhere.  My dad is a bit of a pack rat.  Well…let me rephrase that.  He WAS a bit of a pack rat…now he’s more of a “hoarder”.  But that’s another story.

Also, just so this makes sense, I wasn’t like those kids who grew up in one house during their entire or childhood…or even two houses…or three.  If I sit and think for a minute…I can remember living in ten different houses between the ages of 5 and 18.  This does not include places we lived before I was 5 years old…because I can’t remember back that far.

My point here is…I spent my life living in a mess.  Our house could never be clean because there was never any room for everything.  So there was always “stuff” everywhere.  Stacked in every room…on every surface…in every corner…there was stuff.  It was not organized, it was not neat…it was always a mess.  Add to that…that many of the places we lived were old…and ended up being infested with roaches.  So, many of the places I lived during my childhood…had bugs.  Not all…but many.  It wasn’t because we were dirty.  We kept the kitchen clean…kept the trash out…kept food put away…the houses were just old and we often lived in the country.  There was one house that we even had an exterminator come and treat…but the bugs just came back.

Most of my life I avoided having friends over because I didn’t want them to see what the inside of my house looked like.  I was embarrassed.  I had a few friends that I eventually got close enough to that I would let them come over…but it was still hard for me…especially when I had been to their nice, clean homes.  It was a hard way to live.

When I got out on my own, one of the things I promised myself was that I would never live like that again and I would never make my kids live like that.  I never wanted my kids to be embarrassed to have a friend over.  I am not the cleanest person in the world…I never really learned how to clean properly so I struggle…but I have never gone back to living the way I did when I was growing up.  Thus, it’s pretty important to me now to keep my house at least relatively clean and uncluttered.

I do have some pack rat tendencies.  I’m very sentimental…and growing up poor will make you turn into a bit of a collector.  You want “things” just to have them…because you didn’t have them before.  Things that comfort you and make you feel happy.

The key is to avoid having so many things that you can’t see the floor in any room of the house.

Basically, every day is a struggle for me to keep my house clean and uncluttered.  I’m relatively organized by nature but it’s very difficult to organize when you don’t have a lot of space.  So I try to think of new ways to keep things organized and neat even though I don’t have the room to do it the way I really WANT to do it.  Some days I wish I could hire someone to come in and organize it all FOR me and then I could just attempt to maintain it.  Alas, services like that are not cheap…and would probably require more of my time than I have to give.  But it’s a nice dream.

Someday…in a perfect world…I will live in a house big enough that it has a place for everything so that everything can be in it’s place.  My house will be neat and clean and organized all the time.  And I will sit on my front porch swing, with a drink in my hand…and watch the pigs fly overhead…

Sniffly memories on a random Wednesday

So…for those who don’t know, my mom is a Breast Cancer survivor.  She is also just one of the most lovely people I know.  She is sweet and generous and loving and she was a great mom and still is.  She is my mom and also my friend.

I started walking in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure 5k several years ago.  The first time was because my friend Debbie was doing it and offered to let me ride with her.  I enjoyed it SO much.  I came home and told mom all about it and she was so excited!  From that year on, she started coming with me.

The first time she tried to actually walk the course herself, we were doing the Tarrant County Race.  It’s more difficult than the Dallas race as the streets are not level and there are some rather steep and challenging hills on this particular course.  For my mom’s age and level of health, it was really challenging.

I told her not to worry about it…that we would walk at her pace and we could stop as many times as she wanted and to not worry about it…we would just enjoy it.  At first, she really did.  But she got winded a few times and it started to really psych her out.  At one point, about halfway through the race, she needed to stop and she was visibly upset.  I told her to just sit down and breathe and relax and I asked her why she was so distressed.  She looked at me with VERY worried eyes and said “What if I can’t finish?”  So THAT was it.  She just got overwhelmed…and I think she was afraid that I would be disappointed in her somehow.  I just grinned at her.

“Mom…if you can’t finish…you’ll sit down and prop your feet up right here and I’ll go get the car and pick you up.”  She looked slightly stricken by that thought and I laughed.  “It’s not a big deal.  You’d have to wait a little bit for me to get to the car and get back over here to you through the traffic…but it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

“I just wouldn’t want you to have to do that.”  She said.  “I just don’t know if I should have tried this.”  She looked so worried and so overwhelmed at that moment.  I sat down beside her on the cement ledge we’d found for her to rest on.

“Mom.  You beat breast cancer and survived a heart attack and quadruple bypass surgery.  This is nothing.  You can do this.  But if you are not comfortable and you can’t finish…nobody is going to hold that against you.  You did a lot more than a lot of people did.  You paid your registration fee, you raised money for a good cause, you showed up, and you tried.  If you were to stop right here…and I went and got the car and drove you home…I still couldn’t be more proud of you for the effort you’ve already made.  Some people spend their whole lives never doing anything for other people.  Here you are after surviving all of your health issues…and you’re HERE.  Showing other people that this disease CAN be beaten…and raising money to help others beat it too.  You were a hero before you even got out of bed this morning.  There is absolutely no one who would be disappointed in you if this was where your day ended for today.  I would be proud of you no matter what.”

She got teary eyed.  So did I.  After a couple more minutes, she got up and said “Come on…let’s go.”  I asked “Are you sure?” and she said “Yep” with a very determined face.  We kept walking.  We stopped several more times.  We attacked a really steep hill and I got behind her and pushed and she laughed…so did others that walked with us.  When we turned a corner about 4-5 blocks from the finish line and she saw it…she was a whole new person.  She sped up…she held her head up…and she was grinning like a fool.  So was I.  She finished that race…and I could not have been more proud of her.  Not only did she finish the race…she overcame all the fear that was holding her back that day and all the doubt that made her think she couldn’t do it.

Not a day goes by that I’m not proud of my mother.  Whether she’s walking her first 5k…or sitting on the couch holding my grandson.  She’s taught me more by example than most people in my life taught me when that was their sole intention.  I’m a better person because of her.  I only hope that I can inspire that in other people the way she has in me.

If you ever think that those around you are not looking to you for an example of how to live…or not live…their life, think again.  And act accordingly.  You never know who you might be inspiring.

My Uncle passed away recently.  It was incredibly abrupt and sad.  His health had been poor for some time and they were getting ready to do surgery.  I knew this.  I thought he would be fine.  They were trying to get his oxygen levels up so that he would be ok for the surgery.  But before they got that done, he passed away.  I was really thrown off by this.  I guess you can never really be prepared for something like that.

This particular uncle had some bad things in his past…some poor choices and poor behavior.  I never saw any of that and personally, I’m glad I didn’t.  What I knew…was that he loved me and he always showed me that.  He always had a hug and a smile for me.

I will miss him.

As I thought about all of this…I immediately thought of the last time I saw him.  Then I smiled.  The last time I saw my uncle, we were at a Mexican restaurant, celebrating my mom’s birthday.  I happened to be sitting next to that particular aunt and uncle that night.  We chatted through dinner.  After we ate, my boyfriend was being silly with a single circle of grilled onion…putting it on my plate when he thought I wasn’t looking.  Since boyfriend and I are both performers at a Renaissance Festival, we both had similar thoughts when I picked up the piece of onion.  I eyed it for a moment and then did something silly with it.  I don’t remember the specifics…but something to the effect of, “Look…it’s a finger hula hoop,” while twirling it about my finger.  I tossed it back to boyfriend, who came up with something else it could be.  Across the next few minutes, the piece of onion became a necklace, a mustache, a hat, a bracelet, an earring, a Hari Krishna ponytail…and multiple other strange things.  As we did this…everyone started watching and laughing.

My uncle, who was quite hard of hearing, had to ask my aunt several times to repeat what we had said the onion was each time.  And each time, he gave quite a belly laugh.  He was very amused by our silliness.  We played this game for quite a while and entertained our entire table and a few people at the next table…and a couple of people who were not even in our party.  We are silly like that.

At the end of the night, I hugged everyone and said goodbye…never even fathoming that it would be the last time I saw my uncle.  But looking back…I am so blessed to have such a lovely final memory of him.

Rest in peace, Uncle Wayne.  You were loved…and will be missed.

The end of an era.

Sometime today, a judge who never met me and knew nothing about my life except what he quickly skimmed over on some paperwork, signed the order that states that I am officially divorced.  After eleven years of building a life together and five years of marriage, I now find myself single.  It is disorienting.  I thought I would be much more upset today than I am.  Maybe it just hasn't hit me yet.  Maybe I'll fall apart when I get my copy of the paperwork.  I don't know.

What I do know...is that I've spent the last four months, since he walked out my door...trying to understand why we couldn't fix it.  The only conclusion I ever really came to...was that I would probably never truly understand it.  I also spent time trying to forgive myself for my part in the dissolution of the marriage.  And as odd as it may seem...I tried to forgive him...for hurting me by choosing to go and seek his own happiness.

Yes, he lied to me.  Yes, he made out with another girl while we were married.  Yes, he gave up on me and let me suffer through several counseling sessions trying to work it out when he knew in his heart that he was done. I'm angry at him for those things.  However...I am also not perfect.  I have made a lot of mistakes in my life.  I have hurt people.  I have broken people's hearts who truly loved me...because I had to do what was right for me.  Based on that, I tried to understand his decision and forgive him for hurting me.  He could have gone about it in a more honest manner.  But truly, I don't know if it would have hurt any less.  It did make me think less of him.  But again...I've not always made the best choices either.

So...all that being said, this is the end of an era.  Hopefully it is also the beginning of a better one.  I still feel a bit broken and a bit betrayed.  I still feel like it's going to be a long time before I can feel like that about anyone again.  I still think it's going to be a while before I can give my heart away like that again.  I intend to make sure that anyone who wants to be part of my life knows that.  I don't want to hurt anyone the way I've been hurt in the last year.

The last time I was hurt this badly, I shut down.  I closed my heart for years and didn't let anyone inside.  I'm making a valiant attempt not to do that again.

I'm giving myself time to heal.  I'm surrounding myself with people who love me and care about me.  I'm not letting this stop my life.  I am a bit broken...but not so much that I cannot repair myself and feel whole again. I believe that I will be in love again some day.  I believe and truly hope that I will find someone to share my life with who is as careful with my heart as I am with theirs.  It will take time...but I have faith that it will happen.

The chapter on A&L is now ended.

"This is the story of my life.  I write it every day. I know...it isn't black and white...but it's anything but gray.  I know...I'm not alright...but I'll be ok.  Anything and everything can happen.  It's the story of my life."
 ~Bon Jovi

To anyone reading this...thanks for being part of my story.

Out with the old and in with the new

It’s New Year’s Eve.  All over the country, people are prepping for parties or to go out with friends or to spend it with someone special.  It’s the end of something and the beginning of something else.  For some people it’s very significant and for others it’s just another day.

For me…I’m reflecting on the year at least for a few minutes.

This year was a true dichotomy of emotions for me.  I had one of the worst moments of my life and one of the best moments of my life...all in the space of a few months.  Two moments that forever changed my life.  Two moments that forever changed my heart.  It’s so strange that they happened so close together.

In 2012…the person I loved with all of my heart, the person I most trusted and loved in the world…betrayed me and broke my heart into a thousand pieces.  I experienced the worst pain of my entire life.  I felt lost, betrayed, hurt and heart sick.  My soul weeps for this loss, still to this day.  It is truly one of the worst emotional pains I have ever felt.  The pain is still there…but I can feel that it’s healing.  I’m thankful for the friends and family in my life who have helped me come through that.  I wouldn’t have made it without them.  I will never stop feeling this loss…but I’m healing and seeing light at the end of the tunnel and looking forward to starting a new life and heading in a new direction.  It’s frightening and difficult…but nothing worth having is easy. 

Additionally…my entire world was changed by the birth of my grandson.  I got to watch him grow in the belly of my firstborn and I watched as she became a mother.  I was in the delivery room when he uttered his first cry.  I saw the light in my daughter’s eyes as she brought him into the world.  I held him in my arms and felt a piece of my heart branded with his name and I felt a love so strong that it made me catch my breath.  He is my light in the darkness when all other lights go out. 

My life has been a whirlwind of ups and downs in 2012 and I’ve shed more tears in this year than in the past 3 put together.  I put this year to bed with happy memories, sad memories, joy and regret.

I look to 2013 with hope.  I look to this new year knowing that I will have my friends, my family, my beautiful grandson and a host of possibilities.  I have opportunities to love, to share, to laugh and to make new memories.  I have opportunities to help others and make people smile and share my gifts, however small, with others.

I look to 2013 with the realization that my heart is resilient and no matter how many times it breaks, I can always put it back together and that I will not lose the capacity to love, I will only make it stronger and add more people to it.  I will share my heart…and share my love…and the broken pieces will heal.  I will heal.  I will never forget the people who have made these scars and indentations in my soul.  I will cherish every one of them for whatever reason.  And I will move on into the new year, thankful for what I have and open to the new things I can still receive.

I am broken…but I am not beaten.  I will heal and I will come back stronger, faster and better.

To 2013 and all the possibilities it holds.  I welcome you with an open heart and a willing spirit.

One of the fun things about my life is having had the opportunity to do some really unusual things and thus have really cool stories to tell.  It’s fun to be in a group of people and break out a fun story like, “Oh yeah, I once travelled to England to do fireworks for Guy Fawkes Night…” and “I went to Portugal once.  I was there on a scientific research project where I caught tiny sea birds in nets at the edge of a cliff and took samples from them for a research project.”  Those are not things everyone gets to do…so it’s fun to have unique adventures to talk about and unique stories to tell.

The newest unique story I have is not quite as exciting as travelling to another country for some exciting adventure…but I think it ranks right up there in “unique stories” to tell.

You know how when you’re little, your mom tells you to be still on the escalator so it doesn’t  catch your pant leg and suck you under?  Ok, maybe your mom didn’t terrify you like that…but someone probably did at some point.  As you get older, you never really believe it can happen.  I mean really, have you ever known someone who got something caught and sucked under the stairs while on an escalator?

WELL…let me tell you my new and unique adventure.  I now actually know someone who got an article of their clothing sucked off and eaten by an escalator.  It really happens!  How many people can say that?

A few?  Oh…ok, well then let me tell you what makes the story REALLY interesting.  Imagine me at a table, with a group of fun people, all talking and laughing and maybe having a cocktail or seven…and I bust this was out.

“Yeah…this one time…

I was on an escalator with several hundred people dressed like Santa Claus and other Christmas characters, when Krampus got his hoof caught in the escalator and sucked under…which consequently, stopped the escalator, forcing the last of the Santas to have to walk up what were then considered stairs.”

[Mitch Hedberg voice] “We apologize for the convenience….”

So yeah…that will be added to my list of unique and interesting stories I can tell when I meet new people.

I’m fun at parties.  You should invite me over.

Of being vague and having friends...

So…for those of you not familiar with the randomness that is a Facebook Meme, allow me to introduce you to one of the ones I participate in…and am fully amused by.


It is referred to as “VagueBook Wednesday”. It’s a particularly juvenile thing we do where we post vague statuses that no one really understands but us…and we do not explain. Additionally, your readers know not to ask…because that would defeat the purpose.

Many of us (guilty) use it to say scathing and ugly things to people that we would not otherwise say. Did I mention that this is juvenile? I don’t care, it still amuses me. Sometimes I use it to get something out of my system so that I DON’T actually say it to someone. Occasionally my filters break and I let things fly out of my mouth that should have NEVER left my head.



Now, that being said, allow me to tell you about the epiphany I had whilst indulging myself in this juvenile game.


On Wednesday, I composed one of the most scathing, acidic, hateful posts I have ever written. I even wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget it. It was directed at two people who have deeply hurt me, people who are not on my Facebook, people who I have never had the opportunity to tell just how much they hurt me and just how reprehensible I find them and just how much anger I hold toward them both.


I waited all day to post it and was going to do so just as soon as I got home. In an even more juvenile and ugly thought, I really hoped that someone who knew one or both of them would tell them about my angry post and that it would hurt their feelings even a tenth as much as they had hurt mine.


That particular day, instead of going home directly after work, I had an errand to run at a local mall. Not being a big fan of malls, I complained at how I did not want to go to the mall…even though my favorite restaurant was at that mall...because what good was that when I don’t like to eat alone? A good friend popped up and offered to meet me at the restaurant. Well that sounded fun, so I agreed. Then another good friend popped up and wanted to come too. Then another good friend! So, a couple of hours later, I was seated at my favorite restaurant with three people I love to spend time with. We ate, we talked we laughed and then we laughed even more. We left and went to another location for ice cream. One of those friends generously treated us all. There, we ate ice cream, talked and proceeded to laugh until our sides ached and at times we had tears in our eyes and our faces were red. It was the most fun I’d had in weeks.


Finally, we all parted ways and I went home. After I changed my clothes and fed righteously indignant kitty…(sorry for staying out too late, Fuzzy), I sat down in front of the computer and opened Facebook. I was ready to finally post those angry thoughts I’d been saving for several hours and hide my juvenile, nasty streak behind a “meme”.


The problem was…my amazing friends had filled me up so much with happiness and laughter and love…that there hadn’t been in room in my heart to hold onto those angry words. I simply didn’t have the heart to post them. Instead, I posted about what a lovely night I’d had…and how I just didn’t have the heart to post the angry words I had meant to post for the day.

It occurred to me that if you open your heart to the people who love you…and allow them to fill it up with their love for you…and the happiness of friendship…and the joy of sharing time with people you care about and who care about you…you do not even have to work to push away anger and pain and resentment. It just falls away and is replaced with joy. A joy that helps you let go of stress and ugly emotions like hatred, jealousy and resentment.

You just have to be open to it.

Now, I’m not saying that I will never again set free my inner 8th grade girl and allow her to spew forth the vengeance that is hers. Let’s not be ridiculous. I’m sure there will be many future VagueBook Posts that are worthy of a Junior High note folded like an arrow and marked F.Y.E.O. (For Your Eyes Only) and passed quietly across English class. I’m still human, you know.

However…I do see that I would much rather fill my heart with joy and laughter than anger and resentment. And I’d rather spend my time laughing until I cry than composing angry letters to people who treated me poorly…that will accomplish nothing but to add another gouge in my already damaged heart.

I also see, that while I may have some people in my world who have been cruel to me, I have considerably more people in my world who love me and enjoy my company and wish nothing but happiness and laughter for me. These are the things and the people that I want to hold onto with every ounce of my strength. And while I do that…I won’t even waste the energy to wave goodbye at the others…I will just let them slip away. I will leave them on the trail toward freedom from anger and pain…and the rain of my happiness will wash them away…as if they were never there.