i hate civil war reenactments. i hate the fake misery and death and over-dramatization. i dont like the grown men with civil war flags on their cars. or the south will rise again stickers. its over. its done. we're a nation. united. bound. and that was ages ago and we know how it turned out. rehashing it, keeping it alive, doesnt change the outcome one iota.
you realize that you were the only one that got therapy, right?
that the situation effected us all but that you were the only priority. and it was done gladly. and would probably be handled the same way again and again.
but you fled, doctors orders, and have been repeating the same scenario for decades now.
and we're tired. really, really tired. not angry. not mad. not hateful.
just tired.
because you keep leaving and yelling back over your shoulder the most hateful things. and once the poison reverberates down to our very souls you are back and 'you' again. the you you were before you left. before you killed us all.
he didnt get therapy.
he didnt even get defended.
he had to stand by and watch us make nice with his oppressor.
and be told in so many words that he didnt matter.
he didnt get to flee.
or to yell.
or work it out with a qualified professional.
he's had to self-medicate and wrestle with his own demons. alone. with fear that the problem was HIM because no one ever told him it wasnt.
somewhere between those experiences is the truth. somewhere bw yours of its-all-them-youre-perfect-run-forrest-run and his of deafening silence and waves of residual self-doubt ---- is where the shouldas and couldas reside. but we dont live there. we live here.
here with caring parents that want peace. here with the only family that we will ever have. here with either forgiveness and acceptance and love or
over there.
wherever you chose to make that.
but i do know that here means letting go of age-old battles. and embracing the scars. and realizing that your version of the truth is not one of absolutes.
we ALL died a little that day. we all lost something. you weren't the only one experiencing it. we were all in it together. a family. because thats what families do.
but now, now when we are older and can decide --- i can NOT still fly the flag, i can NOT engage with your reeenactments and i can NOT be a part of any bumpersticker movement to have the south rise again. on the other side of the field is a soul that stood alone in the face of abuse and manipulation and made a choice to not let it rule his future.
yes, its been a slow road perhaps. but this i know for sure... his tune is not an overplayed dixieland. and i canNOT say the same for you.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
non sequitor: how you got your names
how much you are thought about and loved. even before you are here.
the rest is included as pure lagnaippe. dont say you werent warned.
From: Glenda Bolin
Sent: Monday, September 14, 2009 2:45 PM
To: Maritta M Hunt
Subject: Re: Braxton and Brighley
Dear Maritta and Brad - I was reading one of my favorite 'trifle' murder mystery authors the other night - by the name of Rita Mae Brown. The locale was Richmond, VA. The setting concerns fox hunting and the horses and people who hunt. One of the leading characters was named Braxton Ramsey - that was the second time I had encountered the name - the first was when Elaine told me your babies' names. So is Braxton a big name in that part of the world? Is it a family name on Brad's side of the family? Where did you get it - if I'm not too nosy - if I am, just say so. Say, Glenda you're just too nosy!
Secondly, Virginia has raved and raved about how good the dinner was that Brad fixed while she was there and what a wonderful cook he is. She went on and on describing it and so I've come up with the idea to make it for the Wednesday Bible Study nearest her birthday, which would be Oct. 14th the day after. She doesn't know what it's called, but she has it written done, so she says. She also says that she wrote down "fry" and she will have to talk to Maritta and see if that means the chicken was fried before it went into the dish. It also has tomatoes or tomato sauce...
Anyway, if either of you can remember what Brad made and that Ginger liked, I'd like to have the recipe so I can surprise her for her birthday - otherwise she may never get it you know? Or at least until she comes to visit you again.
We are having rain, rain, RAIN and I'm having joint trouble - my body doesn't like the pressure buildup - usually once the rain starts I feel better. Today, while feeling pretty low I had to go to my teeth cleaning appointment. I had to try very hard to maintain cheerfulness while in that office, let me tell you. But Dentists have a VERY high suicide rate - comes from people being afraid of you and not liking you I reckon. Your Mom, Maritta, periodically runs out of Wal-Mart bags - in which she wraps the mail so it won't get wet - they are going to miss her when she finally retires.
Well, off the to races - the hobbledy hoy ones, can't get it moving that fast today. Love to you all, Glenda
Mrs Glenda:
Ok! So we have PICKED OUR BRAINS and for the life of the collective “us” cannot remember what in the world Ginger is talking about! Perhaps some more details will jostle our memory? I even went as far to look through pics to see if I snapped one of dinner to see if that would help us out. no help! Sounds like chicken parmigiana to both of us but we don’t remember making that at all….. odd. Would love to help but don’t know if we can!! {Bradley of course took all the attached accolades even without producing aforementioned magical recipe.}
Braxton. Kinda a non-story story. We were driving to through Illinois and just talking about names for the kids we hadn’t even had yet. I wanted a boys name with an X in it and would just spout out things that sounded good to my ears… “what would I call ‘Brad’s son’?” the question of the hour. And if you say it to yourself for long enough Brad’s son, Brad’s son, Brad’s son… it kinda melds into Braxton. I blurted it out loud and Bradley said, “I like that!”, he stuck it with Alexander and viola! The yet to be created son’s name was born. Then, yes, later, walking through Richmond’s museum we saw a historical figure “Braxton Briggs” mentioned on several markers and took it as a definite sign.
Not that you asked but Brighley was made up too. I knew I wanted to name any daughter I might be blessed with after my mom, since she named me after her’s and plus she’s just a really cool chick. “Elaine” is of Greek origin and means ‘sunray, shining light”. So I kept massaging that around in my head and “brightly shining light” became “Brighley Alaine”. Sounded like a good homage to a mom who’s always managed to be the just that no matter what was thrown at her.
From: Glenda Bolin
Sent: Friday, September 18, 2009 11:08 AM
To: Maritta M Hunt
Subject: Re: Recipe, Braxtion and Brighley
Dear Brad and Maritta - I love the reasoning behind the names - now you will have something unique to tell them when they ask if they are named after anyone.
My Mom was born in Kentucky and my Dad in Michigan. My Dad was down South working and he saw my Mom at the little corner grocery where she went every couple of days to pick up stuff for her Mom. (His first gift/introduction was that he bought her a Baby Ruth candy bar - nothing but the best!) Anyway they married and moved back to Michigan. I was born and named Glenda Sue - the Glenda was because she had never heard the name before she moved North and she loved it, the Sue was after my Dad's youngest sister, Susannah, who was my Mom's best bud up there. Then an old neighbor lady came to visit and to see the baby. She asked Mom what they named me and she told her Glenda Sue and this old Yankee says, "I just knew you'd name her a Southern name!"
Brad, is your middle initial A? Cuz the kids will both be B. A. Hunt ( BAH!) Just wondering.
Virginia is supposed to come here today to pick up some skirts that I hemmed for her. She told me she had written down all the stuff that Brad put in it - so I will try to wrest that from her possession and proceed from there. She may not let me see it until I tell her why I want it - so much for surprises!
F.E. is out mowing the back yard. I wonder (and hope) each time he does that if he will let me call a stump grinder - but No! he loves those five stumps - "they give the back yard character" - I told him the only time that back yard had an ounce of character was when he was mowing it - but he will not be moved. Time and attrition will out though - mushrooms disintegrated one and have moved on to the second, so there is hope after all!
I didn't know until Wednesday night, Brad, that you had been job seeking. I'm so glad you were able to find one so quickly. That says a lot about you and your character in this time of 'recessive depression'.
Oh, yes, I just talked to my Aunt Sue. She asked me if I knew who was named after - I said of course I do! Then she asked me if I had ever heard about how Mom told her and I said no. They were all at Grandma's (Sue was still a young teenager and so living at home). The only private place they had was the outhouse. So Mom motioned for Sue to follow her and so there they both were sitting on the old wooden platform with two holes (really ritzy) and Mom asked her that if the baby were a girl how would she like to have her named after her. She said she answered I would just Love it - and so now you know the rest of the story - and so do I!
Love to all of you, Glenda
Dear Ms Glenda:
Your story is fantastic!! Glad they went with Glenda Sue and not “Baby Ruth Sue”! I was named after a secretary mom worked with --- and yes I like to embellish it and say I was named after MOM’S Secretary and let the questions remain unanswered. Tee-hee!
![]()
Yes, all of bradley’s siblings (he’s one of SIX) have the BAH as well as Brooke (Brooke Ann) so we are following that line. Christie pointed out that I was having a “BAH BAH” as in “Black sheep” so I thanked her for my nursery theme. J While Brooke was here last weekend I had us all outside painting items for the nursery… attached is the completed masterpieces. You can see I am taking the theme and running with it. Bradley also has a monogrammed Christmas shirt that has BAH on one cuff and HUMBUG on the other. Gotta love a developed sense of humor.
I am with Ferris on the character filled yard! Ours usually happens at family gatherings… lots of characters in the yard… but nice that you get it with tree stumps! Dad has been getting his stump grinder in working order, I am sure if you say the word he would LOVE to actually have something to grind with it!
Bradley’s very excited about the new job. Well, got excited yesterday. He’s had to go through all the stages of grieving about the process of leaving UBS. Understandably. Nothing like getting your 10-year thank-you-for-your-services award closely followed by a btw-we-n0-longer-require-your-services notice. Personally, I am really really happy for the change. No, I don’t get particularly thrilled by the prospect of additional years in Virginia but I am tickled that he is getting a chance to shine with a company that is shaking their tail feathers at having him. Had he stayed with UBS his new boss would have made it a living hell unpleasantry!
Have a super Saturday! We are off to Richmond to catch a comedy show and dinner with friends in celebration of our ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY! (I gave a Bradley a congratulations card in lieu of a happy anniversary card --- we keep talking about the nuttiness of our first matrimonial year, so I figured recognition of his survival skills was in order.)
Xox!
~m+b4
From: Glenda Bolin
Sent: Saturday, September 19, 2009 11:29 AM
To: Maritta M Hunt
Subject: Re: Ginger's dish
Dear Maritta and Brad When I asked Ginger yesterday for the recipe or list of ingredients she said, "What? Oh, for the soup?" I just looked at her. Then I told her if she got it to me we'd have her complete menu for her birthday. She thought that was pretty cool - so if I ever see the ingredients list I'll let you know so Brad will know he's a Winner! Went to bible Study with your parents last night. Afterwards, the Clemens joined us at the Road Steak House and we ate dinner and got home waaay after 10:00 but F.E. was still awake! Later. Love, Glenda
Dear Mrs. Glenda:
THAT IS SO GINGER!! We are both rolling. I hung those old window frames that yall carted to me in the house --- one in the powder room --- where it hung safe and sound for the months bw your visit and hers. She cam to visit and THREE times while in the powder room I would hear this calamity and then an “oh”. It was her knocking the frame off the wall. The cake was taken when she cam out after the third time and said, “what you got that hanging on, some dinky nail or something?” I died. Love her special brand of being.
Brad does make killer chicken soup. From stock. With homemade noodles. Yummers. So here we go: (he’s dictating)
Bradley’s Killer Chicken Soup
This is a recipe for 4 servings, multiply as needed.
For stock:
3 pounds chicken wings
2 cloves garlic
1 whole small yellow onion
Combine ingredients in large soup pot, cover with water and boil until onion is totally dissolved. Let cool and refrigerate overnight.
For noodles:
2 cups flour
2 eggs
2 eggshells full of milk (adjust for consistency of dough. Don’t dump in the eggshells.)
Pinch salt
Pinch baking powder
Mix all ingredients. Split dough in half. Roll out on floured surface with rolling pin. Roll to “noodle thin”. Use knife or pizza cutter and slice into long, thin noodles (1/4” X 8”). Let noodles dry for 1 hour, noodles should still be pliable but not brittle.
For Soup:
3 stalks of celery
3 carrots
Basil (to taste)
2 T (or to taste) Orrington Farms Chicken Flavored soup base
Take refrigerated stock, skim off fat and discard. Reheat stock. Strain out bones and meat from stock; set aside meat for soup and discard bones. Let cool. Add meat back to stock and bring to boil. Chop carrots and celery. Add carrots, celery, basil and soup base. Cook until carrots are just tender. Add water if necessary (too salty? too thick?) and return to boil. Add noodles and boil uncovered for 10 minutes. Noodles will puff up like dumplings.
Serve in bowls sprinkled with celery salt. Ta-dah!
![]()
From: Glenda Bolin
Sent: Monday, September 21, 2009 5:41 PM
To: Maritta M Hunt
Subject: Ginger's
Attached is Ginger's copy of the that delicious recipe. After looking at it I told her that sounded a lot easier, that's the one we're having! So if there is any clearing up you can give, I'd appreciate it. Thanks. Love, Glenda
Dear Mrs Glenda:
I will swear on my life and that of my dear sweet pooches that we have never made that in our collective lives.
Will check with Brad when he gets out of the shower, just in case my baby brain has gone into hyper-tard mode…. but… no, never made that. ever.
Dear Mrs. Glenda:
I have a second on my motion that we indeed have NEVER cooked that ever. Ever ever. And hope that you guys are okay after eating it. :)
the rest is included as pure lagnaippe. dont say you werent warned.
From: Glenda Bolin
Sent: Monday, September 14, 2009 2:45 PM
To: Maritta M Hunt
Subject: Re: Braxton and Brighley
Dear Maritta and Brad - I was reading one of my favorite 'trifle' murder mystery authors the other night - by the name of Rita Mae Brown. The locale was Richmond, VA. The setting concerns fox hunting and the horses and people who hunt. One of the leading characters was named Braxton Ramsey - that was the second time I had encountered the name - the first was when Elaine told me your babies' names. So is Braxton a big name in that part of the world? Is it a family name on Brad's side of the family? Where did you get it - if I'm not too nosy - if I am, just say so. Say, Glenda you're just too nosy!
Secondly, Virginia has raved and raved about how good the dinner was that Brad fixed while she was there and what a wonderful cook he is. She went on and on describing it and so I've come up with the idea to make it for the Wednesday Bible Study nearest her birthday, which would be Oct. 14th the day after. She doesn't know what it's called, but she has it written done, so she says. She also says that she wrote down "fry" and she will have to talk to Maritta and see if that means the chicken was fried before it went into the dish. It also has tomatoes or tomato sauce...
Anyway, if either of you can remember what Brad made and that Ginger liked, I'd like to have the recipe so I can surprise her for her birthday - otherwise she may never get it you know? Or at least until she comes to visit you again.
We are having rain, rain, RAIN and I'm having joint trouble - my body doesn't like the pressure buildup - usually once the rain starts I feel better. Today, while feeling pretty low I had to go to my teeth cleaning appointment. I had to try very hard to maintain cheerfulness while in that office, let me tell you. But Dentists have a VERY high suicide rate - comes from people being afraid of you and not liking you I reckon. Your Mom, Maritta, periodically runs out of Wal-Mart bags - in which she wraps the mail so it won't get wet - they are going to miss her when she finally retires.
Well, off the to races - the hobbledy hoy ones, can't get it moving that fast today. Love to you all, Glenda
Mrs Glenda:
Ok! So we have PICKED OUR BRAINS and for the life of the collective “us” cannot remember what in the world Ginger is talking about! Perhaps some more details will jostle our memory? I even went as far to look through pics to see if I snapped one of dinner to see if that would help us out. no help! Sounds like chicken parmigiana to both of us but we don’t remember making that at all….. odd. Would love to help but don’t know if we can!! {Bradley of course took all the attached accolades even without producing aforementioned magical recipe.}
Braxton. Kinda a non-story story. We were driving to through Illinois and just talking about names for the kids we hadn’t even had yet. I wanted a boys name with an X in it and would just spout out things that sounded good to my ears… “what would I call ‘Brad’s son’?” the question of the hour. And if you say it to yourself for long enough Brad’s son, Brad’s son, Brad’s son… it kinda melds into Braxton. I blurted it out loud and Bradley said, “I like that!”, he stuck it with Alexander and viola! The yet to be created son’s name was born. Then, yes, later, walking through Richmond’s museum we saw a historical figure “Braxton Briggs” mentioned on several markers and took it as a definite sign.
Not that you asked but Brighley was made up too. I knew I wanted to name any daughter I might be blessed with after my mom, since she named me after her’s and plus she’s just a really cool chick. “Elaine” is of Greek origin and means ‘sunray, shining light”. So I kept massaging that around in my head and “brightly shining light” became “Brighley Alaine”. Sounded like a good homage to a mom who’s always managed to be the just that no matter what was thrown at her.
From: Glenda Bolin
Sent: Friday, September 18, 2009 11:08 AM
To: Maritta M Hunt
Subject: Re: Recipe, Braxtion and Brighley
Dear Brad and Maritta - I love the reasoning behind the names - now you will have something unique to tell them when they ask if they are named after anyone.
My Mom was born in Kentucky and my Dad in Michigan. My Dad was down South working and he saw my Mom at the little corner grocery where she went every couple of days to pick up stuff for her Mom. (His first gift/introduction was that he bought her a Baby Ruth candy bar - nothing but the best!) Anyway they married and moved back to Michigan. I was born and named Glenda Sue - the Glenda was because she had never heard the name before she moved North and she loved it, the Sue was after my Dad's youngest sister, Susannah, who was my Mom's best bud up there. Then an old neighbor lady came to visit and to see the baby. She asked Mom what they named me and she told her Glenda Sue and this old Yankee says, "I just knew you'd name her a Southern name!"
Brad, is your middle initial A? Cuz the kids will both be B. A. Hunt ( BAH!) Just wondering.
Virginia is supposed to come here today to pick up some skirts that I hemmed for her. She told me she had written down all the stuff that Brad put in it - so I will try to wrest that from her possession and proceed from there. She may not let me see it until I tell her why I want it - so much for surprises!
F.E. is out mowing the back yard. I wonder (and hope) each time he does that if he will let me call a stump grinder - but No! he loves those five stumps - "they give the back yard character" - I told him the only time that back yard had an ounce of character was when he was mowing it - but he will not be moved. Time and attrition will out though - mushrooms disintegrated one and have moved on to the second, so there is hope after all!
I didn't know until Wednesday night, Brad, that you had been job seeking. I'm so glad you were able to find one so quickly. That says a lot about you and your character in this time of 'recessive depression'.
Oh, yes, I just talked to my Aunt Sue. She asked me if I knew who was named after - I said of course I do! Then she asked me if I had ever heard about how Mom told her and I said no. They were all at Grandma's (Sue was still a young teenager and so living at home). The only private place they had was the outhouse. So Mom motioned for Sue to follow her and so there they both were sitting on the old wooden platform with two holes (really ritzy) and Mom asked her that if the baby were a girl how would she like to have her named after her. She said she answered I would just Love it - and so now you know the rest of the story - and so do I!
Love to all of you, Glenda
Dear Ms Glenda:
Your story is fantastic!! Glad they went with Glenda Sue and not “Baby Ruth Sue”! I was named after a secretary mom worked with --- and yes I like to embellish it and say I was named after MOM’S Secretary and let the questions remain unanswered. Tee-hee!
I am with Ferris on the character filled yard! Ours usually happens at family gatherings… lots of characters in the yard… but nice that you get it with tree stumps! Dad has been getting his stump grinder in working order, I am sure if you say the word he would LOVE to actually have something to grind with it!
Bradley’s very excited about the new job. Well, got excited yesterday. He’s had to go through all the stages of grieving about the process of leaving UBS. Understandably. Nothing like getting your 10-year thank-you-for-your-services award closely followed by a btw-we-n0-longer-require-your-services notice. Personally, I am really really happy for the change. No, I don’t get particularly thrilled by the prospect of additional years in Virginia but I am tickled that he is getting a chance to shine with a company that is shaking their tail feathers at having him. Had he stayed with UBS his new boss would have made it a living hell unpleasantry!
Have a super Saturday! We are off to Richmond to catch a comedy show and dinner with friends in celebration of our ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY! (I gave a Bradley a congratulations card in lieu of a happy anniversary card --- we keep talking about the nuttiness of our first matrimonial year, so I figured recognition of his survival skills was in order.)
Xox!
~m+b4
From: Glenda Bolin
Sent: Saturday, September 19, 2009 11:29 AM
To: Maritta M Hunt
Subject: Re: Ginger's dish
Dear Maritta and Brad When I asked Ginger yesterday for the recipe or list of ingredients she said, "What? Oh, for the soup?" I just looked at her. Then I told her if she got it to me we'd have her complete menu for her birthday. She thought that was pretty cool - so if I ever see the ingredients list I'll let you know so Brad will know he's a Winner! Went to bible Study with your parents last night. Afterwards, the Clemens joined us at the Road Steak House and we ate dinner and got home waaay after 10:00 but F.E. was still awake! Later. Love, Glenda
Dear Mrs. Glenda:
THAT IS SO GINGER!! We are both rolling. I hung those old window frames that yall carted to me in the house --- one in the powder room --- where it hung safe and sound for the months bw your visit and hers. She cam to visit and THREE times while in the powder room I would hear this calamity and then an “oh”. It was her knocking the frame off the wall. The cake was taken when she cam out after the third time and said, “what you got that hanging on, some dinky nail or something?” I died. Love her special brand of being.
Brad does make killer chicken soup. From stock. With homemade noodles. Yummers. So here we go: (he’s dictating)
Bradley’s Killer Chicken Soup
This is a recipe for 4 servings, multiply as needed.
For stock:
3 pounds chicken wings
2 cloves garlic
1 whole small yellow onion
Combine ingredients in large soup pot, cover with water and boil until onion is totally dissolved. Let cool and refrigerate overnight.
For noodles:
2 cups flour
2 eggs
2 eggshells full of milk (adjust for consistency of dough. Don’t dump in the eggshells.)
Pinch salt
Pinch baking powder
Mix all ingredients. Split dough in half. Roll out on floured surface with rolling pin. Roll to “noodle thin”. Use knife or pizza cutter and slice into long, thin noodles (1/4” X 8”). Let noodles dry for 1 hour, noodles should still be pliable but not brittle.
For Soup:
3 stalks of celery
3 carrots
Basil (to taste)
2 T (or to taste) Orrington Farms Chicken Flavored soup base
Take refrigerated stock, skim off fat and discard. Reheat stock. Strain out bones and meat from stock; set aside meat for soup and discard bones. Let cool. Add meat back to stock and bring to boil. Chop carrots and celery. Add carrots, celery, basil and soup base. Cook until carrots are just tender. Add water if necessary (too salty? too thick?) and return to boil. Add noodles and boil uncovered for 10 minutes. Noodles will puff up like dumplings.
Serve in bowls sprinkled with celery salt. Ta-dah!
From: Glenda Bolin
Sent: Monday, September 21, 2009 5:41 PM
To: Maritta M Hunt
Subject: Ginger's
Attached is Ginger's copy of the that delicious recipe. After looking at it I told her that sounded a lot easier, that's the one we're having! So if there is any clearing up you can give, I'd appreciate it. Thanks. Love, Glenda
Dear Mrs Glenda:
I will swear on my life and that of my dear sweet pooches that we have never made that in our collective lives.
Will check with Brad when he gets out of the shower, just in case my baby brain has gone into hyper-tard mode…. but… no, never made that. ever.
Dear Mrs. Glenda:
I have a second on my motion that we indeed have NEVER cooked that ever. Ever ever. And hope that you guys are okay after eating it. :)
Friday, May 8, 2009
no point to this.
she is petite. mouthy. stylish. gorgeous. hilarious. loving. brilliant.
she is also bitter. angry. bitchy. bitter. bitter. bitter.
right now she is snarling at any and all things near her and its hard not to take it personally. but its not personal. never has been. life has beaten her black and blue with a barrage of lemons and she has never had a taste for lemonade.
she gave up her life/home/career once to chase a dream guy that turned out to be too much "that guy" and not enough dream. turns out he was wooing someone else while sharing her housespace and her bed.
rescued from that dizzy fall by Mr. Perfect and a fairytale romance straight off of the pages of Harlequin Romance. all of us were fooled. there wasnt a single wait-a-minute from anyyyyone. they celebrated their one year of dating anniversary AFTER they were married. yes, that kinda whirlwind. and the temp never stopped. fabulous honeymoon. fabulous anniversary. fabulous kick-off of his dream job catering business headed towards full-on restaurant fame and fortune. fabulous first home together. fabulous first furniture together. she lost her job. he moved out. what?! yes, he was gone and never looked back.
not a country song. not yet. losing your job. your man. your home. SOUNDS like a country song. but she still had the dog. the stable force in her life at this point. he got kinda depressed too. there were lotsa moves and changes in his life too. he dropped a few pounds. laid around and didnt want to play.
you would think that a reprieve would have been in order. that her birthday could have been celebrated as a dividing line between that-was-then and a this-is-now breather.
but the lemons werent finished.
the dog was still there so the country song wasnt complete. she took him to the vet for a check-up on her birthday and for her care and concern was rewarded with a terminal cancer surprise.
as if her year had not been crapped out enough.
f*ck lemonade.
she is also bitter. angry. bitchy. bitter. bitter. bitter.
right now she is snarling at any and all things near her and its hard not to take it personally. but its not personal. never has been. life has beaten her black and blue with a barrage of lemons and she has never had a taste for lemonade.
she gave up her life/home/career once to chase a dream guy that turned out to be too much "that guy" and not enough dream. turns out he was wooing someone else while sharing her housespace and her bed.
rescued from that dizzy fall by Mr. Perfect and a fairytale romance straight off of the pages of Harlequin Romance. all of us were fooled. there wasnt a single wait-a-minute from anyyyyone. they celebrated their one year of dating anniversary AFTER they were married. yes, that kinda whirlwind. and the temp never stopped. fabulous honeymoon. fabulous anniversary. fabulous kick-off of his dream job catering business headed towards full-on restaurant fame and fortune. fabulous first home together. fabulous first furniture together. she lost her job. he moved out. what?! yes, he was gone and never looked back.
not a country song. not yet. losing your job. your man. your home. SOUNDS like a country song. but she still had the dog. the stable force in her life at this point. he got kinda depressed too. there were lotsa moves and changes in his life too. he dropped a few pounds. laid around and didnt want to play.
you would think that a reprieve would have been in order. that her birthday could have been celebrated as a dividing line between that-was-then and a this-is-now breather.
but the lemons werent finished.
the dog was still there so the country song wasnt complete. she took him to the vet for a check-up on her birthday and for her care and concern was rewarded with a terminal cancer surprise.
as if her year had not been crapped out enough.
f*ck lemonade.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
hokey pokey
{editor’s note: i found this in the draft files. its old.}
you put your left foot in
you take your left foot out
you put your left foot in and you shake it all about
you do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around
thats what its all about
i hated doing the hokey pokey
despised it
really didnt like roller rinks much either
a couple of laps around the rink and i was done with it.
there wasnt a point. or there was and i just missed it. i mean the dryer has a spincycle too --- but when its done your clothes are clean, dry and ready to be worn. [note: i also hate ironing]
went to a rink and didn't skate once... with my racy slutty friend wendy [not to be confused with my sweet and innocent friend wendy -- yes, i had my own oz characters one summer in the 80s] who was hooking up with a senior only to disguise that fact that her freshman figure was in a full-blown affair with her high schools married football coach. but then again, what else was there for a cute girl to do in a hot louisiana small town besides root around with her teachers, right?
back to the rink. the kids gathered there under the guise of it being the normal wholesome thing to do. parents didn't ask too many questions since most of them probably went to the rink in the days when thats where people skated. but NO ONE skated. they walked. in circles. for hours. stopping occasionally to make out in darkened corners. you walked and circled the SAME PEOPLE over and over and over. and the conversation never really changed --- neither did the scenery. no couple skate. no hokey pokey. mindless laps of skating. and it angered me even more than any other trip to the rink had ever done.
i was the kind of kid that didnt sneak. and not bc i was some angel. it was bc if i was going to do something i was going to own that i did it. come hell or high water. its what always got me in trouble as a kid. i wouldn't lie. i chose a course and stuck it out. if someone could not explain to me the logic of their course of action they could just as soon shut up and move aside.
so the rink angered me.
bc the kids were lying. the parents were dumb. and no one was really using any of the resources at hand to their utmost capacity.
there is nothing more sad in life than waste. wasted potential. wasted innocence. wasted opportunity. wasted genius. gifted things that are shunned, ignored and trashed without remorse. decisions made with disregard for their impact. and usually the only ones to mourn their loss are the rubberneckers and standersby. those on the fringe of the wasteland.
my office is a recycling mecca. nothing gets "trashed" there. its all recycled. there are bins for paper, plastic, foil. aluminum cans, batteries, CDs, cardboard, rattan chair bottoms. there are places for everything to go. and if you don't find a bin, ask the 'recycle coordinator'. not kidding. we have one. there is literally ONE single trashcan [outside of those in the restrooms] ONE. its clearly marked "LANDFILL". just in case you missed the point. somehow. as if.
working there has served three purposes: (1) to induce severe shock at how wasteful i have always been. (2) silent, repetitive apologies to my sister for always silently and repetitively mocking her recycling efforts, and (3) the start of a personal recycling program. thats right folks. the roomie and i have an inhouse green program. 4 bins strong. our own personal purgatory for trash on its way to reincarnation. [so what if i am mixing religions. interfaith chapel anyone?] and we managed to pillage a days worth of retail this weekend and come home without a single bag. and it wasn't bc purchases weren't made.
its got me to thinking about the skating rink. cycles. and REcycles. and waste. and lies. and reuse. maybe the rinks mindless laps, whether walking or rolling, were THE point. just bc its current use wasnt its original intention doesnt make it some how subpar. buncha kids hanging out just to hang out. and make out. yeah, i know. for all my scoffing and sneering --- this metropolis of treehuggers and 'sustainable design' and "use only what you need" mantras by the water department, really does shine beautifully head and shoulders above any other place i have lived. the process of being mindful of your individual imprint does seem to run rampant in attitudes around here. there's a respect for the once and future purposes of people and things.
there are recycled people in my life. lovers and friends that once were dearer or closer than they are now. but that doesn't make the relationship any less valuable. or subpar. we've mutely agreed that the spark that brought us together is still worth respecting. i count several exs among the relationships i hold most dear. bc they knew me 'before'. when i was a different version of me and they were different versions of them.
and as you get older [gasp!] you realize this planet is a very small world. and cherishing and respecting people is simply the best route to go. its less wasteful. its good karma. bc just around the next corner might be the 7th-layer-to-kevin-bacon and you'll find yourself surrounded by ghosts of people/places past. recycled/recircled/rerinked into the very things you thought you left behind.
just dont try to get me to believe that the hokey pokey IS what its all about.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
pacing myself
taken on its face it could have been reason to be upset. i mean it was a promise. and it was my birthday (ok, day after) AND he really just didnt feel like it. not that he was bleeding or injured, just really not up to it. we werent planning a huge show-down. we had agreed that it would be a walk-run so that it was enjoyable for both of us and so that i could get him to agree to do it again in the future.
so i could have been upset.
but there were a couple of factors that worked in our favor. (1) i adore him (2) he was on his feet for 2 days cooking and prepping for (3) throwing me, AND my brother, the best birthday party ever, (4) i know beyond a single creeping doubt that he would walk through fire to make me happy, and (5) my brother stepped in as proxy.
but he did. and so we did.
and i learned another lesson.
i can be even a slower runner. i ran/walked the entire course while chatting and holding hands with my little brother is a pace i loved to keep. had i demanded that my hubby keep his promises, i would have missed it.
pacing myself. in life. in love. and in really appreciating that the best miles/minute records are not necessarily of the speedy kind.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
drivetime.
If you ever want to really get to know someone, the saying goes, marry them. I think a better option might be to force new couples to take a cross country road trip together. You find out a lot about each other when soft lighting and sweet gestures make way for road-breath, hypercaffeination and knee-munching legroom.
Bradley had to literally pick me up and, not so literally, drag me kicking and screaming across country before we got hitched in september. We had such a blast... We are taking an abbreviated version this week.
Viva la michigan! Viva la Brooke! And viva la finding the right road partner for life!
Bradley had to literally pick me up and, not so literally, drag me kicking and screaming across country before we got hitched in september. We had such a blast... We are taking an abbreviated version this week.
Viva la michigan! Viva la Brooke! And viva la finding the right road partner for life!
Thursday, January 29, 2009
i grew something.
(1) he buys me a beautiful plant.
(2) i kill it.
not on purpose, mind you. just bc i cannot grow things. especially when they come with obscure names and/or instructions. like "keep damp in moderate light". what the heck does that mean? sounds like instructions for growing a southerner --- not a plant.
there is also this lil thing that has plagued me all my life. i despise being told what to do. even if it means banging my own head against the wall to figure out for my own self that yes, indeed it does hurt. my lifes experiences have not been unique. i could have avoided some lessons had i simply taken kind advice given along the way --- but that is not my personal choice. i forge ahead thinking i will indeed make "it" work.
but things do change. sometimes miracles do happen. occasionally even a brown thumb gets lucky. and like cj quoted, "to get something you never had, you have to do something you never did."
i am learning to let go of old patterns. habits. tendencies. that just bc something is my reality it does not necessarily make it true. sometimes success can be easier attained by chosing well-trod paths, even if you think you MIGHT have a better way. like plant instructions, sometimes if you just follow along with what someone else has proven to work -- you get better results.
keep damp in moderate light. brilliant. why didn't i think of that?
Monday, January 26, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
do over!
miracles do happen. especially if you are tenacious enough to grab them by the balls and make them pay attention to you.
not so much when they are sitting in your lap.
that looks all well and good and perhaps she was just putting a game face on --- i know, i know, but then again i also know dee. and despite the capturing of the moments before THAT shot revealed a truer picture of the situation.....
i also know that despite anything and everything -- she and i are bound for life.
viva la 2009! viva la burial of old wounds and ridiculous line-drawing. lets get back to getting. xox.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
family is as family does.
thank gawd for those souls that remind us that as much as we think we may have changed and differ --- at our core we are still very much the same.viva 2009!
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