Happy ‘Fucking’ Thursday my friends. May it be a good one.
Love, Sparkly Nee
‘She didn’t belong anywhere and she never really belonged to anyone. And everyone else belonged somewhere and to someone. People thought she was too wonderful. But she only wanted to belong to someone. People always thought she was too wonderful to belong to them or that something too wonderful would hurt too much to lose. And that’s why she liked him–because he just thought she was crazy.’
~ C. JoyBell C.
Tom my new friend and taxi driver, dropped me off this morning at Domino’s Farms for my Pre-Op appointment. Once there, I checked in, completed forms. Next, I was poked and prodded. I sat in the lobby and waited for the physician’s assistant to explain the surgical process to me. In two weeks, hardware that held my ravaged then rebuilt ankle will be removed. Tendons will be unwrapped from freshly healed bone in hopes that it will alleviate some of my chronic pain. I am tough, but I am scared. I am scared, but I am strong. I pick up my phone and the heat from my fingertips bring it to life. As I begin to play a game I mutter in frustration, “I’m so fucking tired of this injury sucking the marrow out of my very existence.”
I’m an observational writer. Two and a half years ago I would have laughed if you’d said such a thing. Most of my young and adult life, with the help of ADHD, OCD, married life, parenting, and plain old rushing around, I couldn’t observe more than five things at once. Once I realized that my dream was to observe and write about it, I couldn’t stop. Life was a rush. I was constantly stimulated, and inspired. I say passionate, everyone else in my life said I was obsessed.
This morning, as the lives diminished in my game, I remembered who and what I was. Placing my phone in my purse, I began watching four little children. One boy and three girls ran wild up and down the hill outside in front of Lobby C. The girls, ranged in age from 8-11, and wore short skirts with little shirts. Their feet were clad in sandals and their long blonde hair whipped around their faces as they ran. The little boy, about 7 was clad in shorts, t-shirt and black flip flops. He ran up and down that hill, faster than his sisters did. He didn’t seem to care that he lost his shoes in the process.
The oldest girl walked away from her siblings to stand in the stone and ivy garden. The foliage and ceramic toadstools made her look a bit like Alice when she spoke to a hookah smoking caterpillar in Wonderland. Her young charges continued to run up that hill, around the tree at the top and back down. I’m sure if there wasn’t concrete at the bottom of that hill, they would have rolled down it. Staining their knees and elbows green, as their little brother lost his shoes again.
I sat in a comfy armchair inside, but I wanted to run with them. I wanted to walk on stick thin legs made tan by the summer sun. I wanted to be the young girl standing in the ivy garden that looked like Alice. I wouldn’t have even minded being the little boy that lost his shoes as I jumped to touch the arbor at the entrance of Lobby C.
I don’t wish to go back to that age, but I do wish I could let the wind whip my hair as I run. And to feel confident that when I run, there wouldn’t be pain. I want to suck the marrow out of life again. Maybe after this next surgery, I will.
You jump, I jump. Remember.-Titanic
I feel sorry for the man that loves me. How strong he has to be. To put up with me. My moods. My sadness. My elation. My impulsiveness. How exhausted he must be. I’m a force of nature. Lightning and thunder. A storm that is unaware of her worth. He tells me of my beauty. Every day. He tells me how important and smart I am, yet I do not believe him. I still flit around like I could give a good God damn.
He stays. Why? Why does this good man stay? How he must get tired of loving an insolent child of 45. A woman that will never be happy. A liar. A wanton woman. Crazy beyond words. A bitch. Stubborn as fuck. But with a heart that loves like no other.
With a caring and calm hand he wipes the hair out of my eyes. He can always calm the storm that dwells within me. The chaos. The light that flits everywhere. Like a demented Tinker Bell.
He centers me. He knows me, this good man. He’ll be here forever. Why, I’ll never know. How lucky I am to have such love. How lucky I am to love him.
I’m having me a damn day. First off I’m an office manager. I gave both of my staff members the day off. Stupid thing to do on a Monday. But you know I’m a nice person dammit and sometimes I have to give them both the day off. One’s daughter got married last weekend, and the second she’s going back to college and she had to go see her adviser. These are super important life changes and by God I knew I could handle one day in the office by myself. Or so I thought.
First the damn stapler in the biggest and most used photocopier/scanner/printer jams and I had no fucking clue how to change it. I had to lay on the damn floor and yank as hard as I could to get the damn thing out of the machine. I had my colleague on my cell phone, talking me through the process. I sat there with hemostats and then ripped the broken staples out of the machine. Once that task was done, the photocopier/scanner/printer on the third floor jammed. After I fixed that one. The other one on the second floor ran out of staples so off I ran to fix that. Then a professor had last minute copies to be made, and I had to do that. For the love of God I was running around like a crazy woman. I kept smiling though, dammit! Actually I think I was maniacally laughing.
Then the calls from the family started coming in. The texts too. All about money, cell phones, cars, wedding plans, cruise questions, and money. And, and, and, and. I finally texted Roger Darling and said if you all don’t stop bitching about money I’m going to fucking run away!!!! He told me he should have worn more condoms! We were losing our ever loving minds. Because though we’ve only given birth to two children, we now have four. Because they have partners. Whom we dearly, dearly, dearly love. But they drive us just as crazy as the children we birthed.
I didn’t hear from anyone for awhile which was good because I still had my own work to do after I fixed every damn thing else that broke. I actually got a lot done. Thank God!!
True to form my Roger Darling texts and says babe I’ve got a solution, call me. So I do. I’m to meet two of our kids at the ATT store to get a new cell phone and he’ll meet the other two at Spirit Ford to check out a used car. Leave it to my Roger to get it worked out. What would I do without him?
So now the day has finally calmed down, and we had dinner together. I think I’m going to go sit with Rogie on the couch and make out with him. He deserves at least a good tongue kiss for all the problem-solving he’s done today.
Here’s to a valium, good sleep and a good French kissing. G’night my sweet friends.
BTW I was in the pit at a Green Day concert a few years ago. One of the best fucking nights of my life!!!!!
Watching The Wheels
People say I’m Crazy doing what I’m doing
Well they give me all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin
When I say that I’m o.k. they look at me kind of strange
Surely you’re not happy now you no longer play the game
People say I’m lazy dreaming my life away
Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlighten me
When I tell them that I’m doing fine watching shadows on the wall
Don’t you miss the big time boy you’re no longer on the ball?
I’m just sitting here watching the wheels fo round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go
People asking questions lost in confusion
Well I tell them there’s no problem, only solutions
Well they shake their heads and look at me as if I’ve lost my mind
I tell them there’s no hurry…
I’m just sitting here doing time
I’m just sitting here watching the wheels fo round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go
Heard this on Pandora this morning and thought for sure that I had to post it. I realized how much I identified with the lyrics. I mean people tell me I’m crazy, all the time. I’m not, I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round. I kinda like that I’m not on that merry go round of trying to please everyone and get validation from those that won’t ever give it to me. I have love, I have life, I have music and I have my words. It’s nice to realize that I finally have it all. Writing may make me dream my life away, but I don’t think there’d be a better way to go.
Thanks for loving me and my words my sweet readers, and followers. I know that the photo of John is not a popular one. But he had an incredible sense of humor and so do I. So you get a photo of John sticking out his tongue and the acoustic version of Watching the Wheels. I don’t know if you’ve figured this out yet, but I’m not a typical woman so why would I post the popular? I wouldn’t. That’s what makes me, me. Enjoy.
“Sometimes I feel like there’s a hole inside of me, an emptiness that at times seems to burn. I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean. The moon tonight, there’s a circle around it. Sign of trouble not far behind. I have this dream of being whole. Of not going to sleep each night, wanting. But still sometimes, when the wind is warm or the crickets sing… I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for. I just want someone to love me. I want to be seen. I don’t know. Maybe I had my happiness. I don’t want to believe it but, there is no man, Gilly. Only that moon.“-Practical Magic
It has been so long since I’ve seen this movie, but this quote moved me to tears this morning. I know I have love, but I still feel this void inside of me. Every day. Why? I have no idea. But I wish there was some way for me to fill it. Maybe that’s why I write. Who knows. Maybe that’s why I share with you the emptiness I feel in my soul. Today, I shared it with my friend, someone I haven’t seen in 30 years. But it felt normal to share it with her. I have no idea why. I just did. As I talked to my friend, I’ll call her the Singing Siren. I was reminded that we all have this hole in us. We want to fill it. I asked her, why do we have this hole that needs to be filled?
I mean we love, we are loved, we have children, and we lead full lives. For some reason, we want more. We women, who have made it to this stage in our lives crave more. We are NOT our mothers. We are not content to sit back and grow old. I am sure it’s why I write. I still burn. I may be almost at middle age but I still burn. I write because I am not dead yet. I will not die. And when I do, you will remember me. My words, my passion, my life written on these pages will make you remember me. It will also make you remember the stories that I’ve told and the people that I’ve made you meet. I told Rory today that I will not go silently into that good night. I will go out kicking and screaming. Fighting ever damn step of the way.
I told the Singing Siren’s friend, that we all have that hole. No matter how fulfilled we are, we all have it in us. It could be from a lost love, a great what if, or a life wasted. We all have that hole we are trying to fill. I told her to find a passion, and fill it up. But who am I? I’m just a girl with a big mouth that likes to talk a lot. What advice I give really has no bearing on anyone that I come in contact with.
My friend, the Raven Haired Angel, gave a sad status update today. It was: I used to be so positive about life and encouraged others. My life was awesome. I have a wonderful husband who puts up with the crazy and psycotic depending which day it is. I have great friends, wonderful children, great employers, and cuddle pups. So why is it I can still encourage others while I’m drowning in myself? I am so blessed and so thankful, and yet feel stupid and unworthy and incapable of anything! I awake crying for no reason, I hurt from head to toe, I stumble,I forget , I’m hot, I’m cold, and I can’t open a damn jar anymore! If this is midlife it sucks!!!!!
I told the Raven Haired Angel that a good friend gave me the subject to write about today. All from a simple quote from a sweet, sad movie called, Practical Magic. I told her she was beautiful, that she’s still viable. That she is loved and lovely. That the crazy and the psychotic we feel is normal. We’re normal. It’s okay to feel the way we feel. It makes us yearn to be more, and to do more. It means that we are not about to be complacent. I told her do NOT become so. I told her to find a passion and pursue it. I signed off telling her that I had much love to give her and if at anytime she needed to be told how normal and necessary she was, she could call me.
I’m still trying to find a way to fill that hole in me. I feel I do every day I write. Every post I make. It fills my hole and makes me whole. Makes me better. Makes my friends, readers, and followers better. It makes me realize we are not alone. We are not. And here, here we find a way to become better. To find that Practical Magic, and that Practical Love.
We are so used to numbing ourselves with food. However, we are no longer numb.
We are alive.
We want to experience everything.
We have the rest of our lives to do just that.
We are so afraid though. We’ve never felt so free. Freedom scares us.
(Yeah I said this. I know it’s scary that I can say something so profound, but dammit I swear I did!)
I was talking to a dear friend today who is struggling to find herself. She and I numbed ourselves with food for so long it’s hard for us to feel without hurting. It’s like that of an autistic person who’s senses are in hyper drive. It’s the same for us that have broken out of the addiction of food. Our bodies are finally free but so are our minds. Let me tell you our minds can think and do some crazy shit.
What she and I feel is static electricity running through our bodies. It’s a restlessness I can’t even explain. It’s the feeling that we need to go out and experience everything we couldn’t when our bodies were morbidly obese. The euphoria is amazing, but it’s also exhausting. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I don’t think I felt this good when I was in my teens. I know I didn’t. I can tell you why. Because now, I’m thinking like a teenager and like a woman confident in her body. Confidence is sexy, but sometimes I’m a little too damn confident!
B. finally got herself out of a marriage that was no longer working. After losing weight the light bulb went off. She realized that what she was doing was merely existing. And she got tired of raising a husband like a child. She decided the best option for herself and the children was to move on. I have supported and loved her through it all. My heart breaks and cheers for as she struggles to find happiness. B. has no idea how incredibly strong she is. I am so proud of her. Yes, I’m envious in some respects. Not so much in others. Her life has been tumultuous. I hope that my words and actions have eased some of her pain.
We’ve both lost 150 lbs, each. Yes, an entire person. That person dragged us down, made us tired, and unhappy. We are finding though that we are still weighed down. With doubt, uncertainty and sadness. We are still searching for balance. For bliss. We may never find it, but we will go through hell looking for it. And I know she and I will always be at each other’s side. We’ll hold hands and love each other through it all. She has been my constant for 30 years.
I can’t say that I haven’t had my issues while going through such a profound transformation. I have thought about running away from my life and starting over. There are so many questions unanswered, and so many what ifs going through my mind. I struggle to find peace within myself everyday. I fight battles with a mirror, and my psyche. Fuck I’m a mess, but my sparkly heart is good. I seek new people and new connections every day. I look for new ways to thrive. I can’t sit still for long. If I’m stagnant, then I die. And baby I’m not dying for a long time.
I remind B. that her heart is good, but she must be guarded with it. Do not give it to the first person you meet. Do not tell them deep, dark secrets. Keep those inside and share them with the right one. I know she will find someone that is good for her, but she has got to find peace within herself first. Be happy in being alone or with her kids. Know that what she is doing is right. All I want for her is peace of mind and happiness. I want it for both us.
23 years old girl travelling solo on a motorcycle.
A brief portfolio of writing by Ally Askew
Forty Matches to Finding Myself
Authentic Stories of Addiction and Sobriety
young and sober
A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.
Navigating Politics Together
Share something you learned everyday!
art. popular since 10,000 BC