Tag Archives: writing

24

Jul. ’13

Me

me

“What a laugh, though.  To think that one human being could ever really know another.  You could get used to each other, get so habituated that you could speak their words right along with them, but you never know why other people said what they said or did what they did, because they never even know themselves.  Nobody understands anybody.”
– Orson Scott Card

I am going through a very hard time right now.  The reason?  Doesn’t matter.  Just another hard time – you know how it is.  You have them too.  It would be great if life stayed up there on those peaks all the time, but we all know that the trail dips to the valleys every now and then.

And it sucks.

But this time, I’m starting to realize something.  Most problems we have (all of us – not just me), at their very core, exist because people just don’t understand one another.  And like the quote above illustrates, how can we?  We don’t even understand ourselves.

Well, I don’t know if you care or not, but I’m going to use this blog to try to understand myself.  I’m getting ready to describe…me.

And you know what?  Maybe by the end of it, you’ll understand me too.  And hey, who knows?  Maybe this might even help you understand you.  Or at least try.  That’s all we can do, right?

“Walk with me for awhile, my friend—you in my shoes, I in yours—and then let us talk.”  
– Richelle E. Goodrich

I am passionate.

I mean, seriously.  I don’t half-ass anything.  When I feel something, I freakin feel it.  As you can imagine, that can go both ways.  When I love you, I soooo love you.  I’m hopelessly devoted and cannot even imagine being with anyone else.  But when a negative emotion hits?  You’re going to get the same intensity as the positive.  If I’m mad, I’m furious.  If you hurt me, I’m crushed.

I am innocent.

I hate to admit that, but I am.  I’m naïve.  I truly don’t understand this new world that we’re in where relationships have become casual and ‘hooking up’ seems to be the norm.  I don’t desire to go out and drink until the wee hours of the morning.  I have no desire whatsoever to ‘date.’  I am the most happy when I’m in a loving, committed relationship.  Nothing else will do for me. My preferred past-time is hanging out with a bunch of kids and goofing off – not partying.  Does that make me a dud?  I guess.

I am loyal.

Once I am committed to something, I’m in.  You can trust me 150%.  There are no gray areas.

I am obsessive.

I admit it.  I find it so incredibly hard to get my mind off of whatever is bothering me.  I want to fix it.  And a lot of people’s way of ‘fixing’ something is to find something else to temporarily ease the pain.  Not me.  I want to talk it to death; beat it to death; squeeze it until every last drop of life is gone.  I have lost a lot of people I love this way because I tend to love people who are exactly the opposite.  People who need their time and space to deal with things.  I have always hated this about myself.

I am intensely intuitive.

I know when something is not right.  Maybe that stems from my extreme interest in other people.  People fascinate me, so I pay attention to them.  I watch what they do and figure out why they do it.  So, with that being the case, I can usually spot when something is not right. I  know the signs and signals.  The problem with this?  The problem is that while yes, something may be off, my overactive imagination turns what may be a little molehill into Mount Everest.  I picture the absolute worst scenario in my head and assume that is the case until I know otherwise.  Then, when I find out otherwise, it’s hard to put what I’ve found out in place of what I already assumed to be true.  That sucks.

I am honest.

To a fault.  I lay it ALL out there.  Whether you want it or not.  And the problem with that?  I expect others to be that way too.  And then I’m crushed when they’re not.  I wish I were a better liar.  I wish I could be mysterious.  I wish, I wish, I wish.  But it’s not going to happen.  It’s not who I am.  And since it’s not who I am, I am especially sensitive to it in other people.  I don’t understand it, and I am deeply wounded by it.  Once I’ve seen dishonesty, it’s really, really, hard for me to unsee it.

I am forgiving.

I fully understand that this may seem to counteract what I just said.  But it doesn’t.  You’ve heard of forgiving and forgetting?  Well, the forgiving part is easy for me.  I have forgiven so many things over the years.  I understand that people make mistakes.  I hope people understand that I make mistakes too.  Crap happens.  But forgetting?  *Sigh*  Sadly, forgetting is not my specialty.  Can one exist without the other?  I don’t know, you tell me.

And finally, one last thing.

I like myself.

It’s true.  Yes, I’ve just mentioned some things that aren’t so great about my personality.  But I’ve listed some things that I think are pretty honorable too.  I have finally – FINALLY – come to a place in my life where I realize that I’m just really not that bad.  I fully understand that some people cannot accept my blunt, intense nature.  But I just absolutely cannot change who I am.  Just like they can’t change who they are.  We just have to learn to live together, you know?  Flaws, differences, quirks.  We just have to accept ourselves for who we are, and accept others for who they are.  That’s the only choice we have.

Now that I’ve written this, I’m not sure what the point was really.  I guess I’m just hoping to be understood.  That’s all we’re ever hoping for, isn’t it?  Do you see yourself in anything I’ve described?  Are you the complete opposite?  Is someone you love like me?  Do you think understanding them might help?

It’s your turn.

Who are you?

There may be someone that could really benefit from you letting them know.  It could be a start to mending something that is broken.

I sure hope so.  Life is way too short for the alternative.

***

“Before we can forgive one another, we have to understand one another.”
– Emma Goldman

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23

Jul. ’13

Facebook

facebook

It has been on my mind for a while to do a blog about Facebook.  I attempted to deactivate my account recently due to…well, I don’t know what really.  I guess I just got sick of it.  A lot of my problems lately have seemed to somehow stem from something Facebook related, so I was ready to be done with the whole thing.  But my attempt was short-lived.  I came crawling back.  Like we all do.  Don’t lie, you know you’ve done it too.  This whole process got me thinking that I should blog about Facebook.  You know – the good, the bad, the ugly, the whole nine yards.

Now, let me explain how this whole “blog” process works for me.  First: something happens in my life, or I see something significant that strikes a chord, or an interesting thought pops into my mind…whatever the case may be…and I decide that I’m going to write a blog about it.  Once the decision is made, the next step is to look for quotes.  If you’re a regular reader, I’m sure you’ve noticed that there are very few (if any?) of my blogs that don’t end with a quote.  Some also start with one, and most have them interspersed throughout the blog as well.  I absolutely adore quotes.  I am a lover of conversation and, to me, quotes are just noteworthy snippets of conversation between other humans who were going through something similar to what I was going through.  Quotes make us feel connected to each other.

And I think that’s pretty cool.

So, back to Facebook.  Once I decided to do a blog about this topic, I went about my usual method.  I started searching for quotes.  And here is what I’ve decided.  Rather than droning on and on about the pros and cons of Facebook, like I had originally intended to do, I’m just going to let the quotes speak for themselves.   People have already said it better than I have, so I’ll let them do the talking this time.  Ready?

Here we go.

First, one that I think pretty much sums up the whole topic in a nutshell:

“I didn’t know what Facebook was, and now that I do know what it is, I have to say, it sounds like a huge waste of time.”
– Betty White

Right on, little Betty.

Oh, and while we’re at it, let’s throw in another cute one from Betty just for our comedic pleasure:

“People have told me ‘Betty, Facebook is a great way to keep in touch with old friends…’ At my age, if I wanted to keep in touch with old friends, I’d need a Ouija board.”
– Betty White

Hehe.  Oh, Betty, girl you cray cray.

Ok, moving along.

On a more somber note, here’s a notable one that really struck a chord with me:

“I feel like I’m part of a generation of people who are stuck in the past and are really self-absorbed.  I mean, we’re actually taking pictures of ourselves and posting them on Facebook, and keeping in touch with people that should have been out of our lives 15 years ago.”
– Diablo Cody

That one touched right on the whole reason I wanted to write this blog in the first place.  My recent disdain with Facebook began when I started having troubles with someone from my past giving me a hard time on Facebook.  It took me much too long to realize that just because someone was a part of your past, that was no reason to carry them into your future solely due to their presence on some silly social network.  *BLOCK*

Ok, I promised I wouldn’t talk much in this blog, so back to the quotes.

While we’re on the topic of not letting go of the past, here’s an interesting one:

“America’s Facebook generation shows a submission to standardization that I haven’t seen before.  The American adventure has always been about people forgetting their former selves – Samuel Clemens became Mark Twain, Jack Kerouac went on the road.  If they had a Facebook page, they wouldn’t have been able to forget their former selves.”
– Jaron Lanier

Wow.  Again, I’ll try not to comment.  Just let that sink in for a minute.

(And if you had to look up Jack Kerouac, don’t feel bad.  I did too.  Unless I’m the only one who didn’t know who that was.  And if that’s the case, then I’m just kidding.)

Moving on…

What do you think about this one?

“I would argue heavily that the time that has been allocated to social networking used to come from television, and people are benefitting from it.  People who are saying, ‘Aw, you’re spending all your time on Facebook…,’ well, I’d like to understand what that person used to do with that time.”
– Gary Vaynerchuk

I think this Gary dude might be on to something.  I know I rarely watch TV anymore.  Good thing?  Bad thing?  Eh, who knows.  It’s not my turn to talk anyway, so I won’t hypothesize.  I promised to shut up.

Moving along.

Ahhh, here we go:

facebook2

I couldn’t find an actual person to attribute this quote to (and I HATE that), but it was too good not to post.  Made me giggle.  (Because, hey – I’m the QUEEN of posting pics on Facebook.  Just ask some of my haters, they’ll tell you.)

Now, how about this one for you voyeurs out there (you know who you are):

“I am a Facebook voyeur.  I feel bad about it because I never put anything on there, but I find it fun to sit there and watch peoples’ lives go by.  Or whatever lives they’re presenting.”
– Eddie Kaye Thomas

Hmmm.  That last part is a zinger, wouldn’t you say?

On that same note:

facebook6

Yup.

And again:

“There is something decidedly faux about the camaraderie of Facebook.”
– Bill Keller

Hmmmm.  Would you agree?

Let’s dig a little deeper.  This one combines Facebook with one of my passions…acting:

“When playing a role, I would feel more comfortable, as you’re given a prescribed way of behaving.  So, both Facebook and theatre provide contrived settings that provide the illusion of social interaction.”
– Jesse Eisenberg

Ouch.  Ok, anyone else feel their toes being stepped on, or is that just me?

facebook

Yes.  Here’s to hoping for that.

Or, how about this one in the “food for thought” category:

“With Facebook, you’re not really allowed to be unhappy.  Think about it: There’s only a ‘like’ button.  Yes, you can be angry, but it’s only lighthearted rage.  On Reddit, perhaps because you can be anonymous, people are willing to be openly sad or angry.  They are more honest.”
– Yishan Wong

(Let me break my “I promise I’ll shut up” rule here for a second with a loud, “DING DING DING.”  Ok, I’m quiet again…)

Now, let’s explore the word “friend” on Facebook, shall we?

“I don’t need to go onto Facebook and pretend to have friends I’ve never even met.  To my mind, that kind of destroys the meaning of the word ‘friend.’ I take exception to that.  Because I value and respect friendship.”
– Stefanie Powers

Hmmm.  What do you say to that?  Do you consider all of your Facebook friends as “real” friends?  Interesting.  But I’m shutting up, remember?

[Wait, one more thing before I shut up.  I think it’s interesting that there is a “close friends” list option.  I think this should be renamed “people that are actually important in your everyday life.”  At least that’s what mine should be named.  How about yours?]

Ok, I am fully aware that these quotes and tidbits are all teetering on the ‘negative’ side.  I’ll throw a few positive ones in for good measure, don’t worry.

But not yet.

facebook4

Hehe.  Ok, sorry.

Ok, positive.  Positive.  Hmmmm.  Let’s see.  Oh, ok, let’s see what Mr. Zuckerberg himself has to say about it:

” The thing that we are trying to do at Facebook is just help people connect and communicate more efficiently.”
– Mark Zuckerberg

Ok, Mark.  I hear ya.  Hey, Facebook is what gets my blog out there, right?  I think you may be right.  Or how about this one:

“No one has done a study on this, as far as I can tell, but I think Facebook might be the first place where a large number of people have come out.  We didn’t create that – society was generally ready for that.  I think this is just part of the general trend that we talked about, about society being more open.  And I think that’s good.”
– Mark Zuckerberg

What do you think?  Ok, I know I promised to shut up, but one quick thing here.  You may not agree with me on the gay rights issue, and hey – that’s your conscience you have to live with, my friend – but I can tell you that more than one of my homosexual friends over the years has contacted me privately and thanked me for loving them and publicly supporting them with my Facebook posts and for not treating them like they were any different than I am.  Think what you want about that, but as far as I’m concerned – if I’ve made even one person feel less alone with a Facebook post, then it’s all been worth it.  I’m proud of that.

*Sigh*

Ok, I don’t know where else I can go with this blog after that.  Yes, I tried to “run away” for a few days, but I came back.  I guess it was a little something like this:

facebook5

I don’t know that I was exactly ‘looking for attention’ (honestly, I was trying to hide from it), but I do get the ‘running away from home’ reference.  Do I consider Facebook to be “home?”  Well, I hope not.  Not to that extent anyway.  But you know what I do consider it?

Life.

Facebook is life.  It’s a mixture of things that make you smile, make you sad, make you laugh, make you cry, and sometimes things that make you so angry that you try to run away for a while.  But that’s just it.  You can’t escape life.  You can try not to look at it for a while, you can even try to pretend it’s not there and it’s not still going on if you’re not around to see it, but you know what?  It is.  Like Dolly Parton says,

“The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with a little rain.”

You gotta take the bad with the good, people.  It’s all there for the taking.  And whether you jump in there and show off, or whether you choose to just sit back and watch – either way, it’s life.  It’s there and it’s not going anywhere.

And you’re a part of it.

Kinda cool in a way.  Don’t you think?

Thanks for reading.  I know I didn’t say much in this one – just sat here quiet as a little churchmouse (*giggle*), but I appreciate you coming along for the ride anyway.

(And hey – I’m willing to bet you clicked on a link on Facebook to get here, didn’t you?)

😉

***

“If you don’t take the chance to live life, what can you say at the end of it?”
– Naveen Andrews

***

[Footnote:  Before I close out, I wanted to mention something I thought was interesting about this blog.  I went back to edit before posting, as I always do, and I noticed that I alternated between capitalizing “Facebook” and not capitalizing “facebook.”  I’m still not sure what the “correct” thing is to do, but I thought it was a little poetic that I didn’t know whether to attribute the importance of a capital letter to the name.  Kinda what this whole blog is about, wouldn’t you say?  Interestingly enough, I chose to capitalize.  Deduce what you will….]

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22

Jul. ’13

Naked Eyes

“Into every life a little rain must fall
And that’s the way that it will always be
But you seem to think you can keep the hurt away
Just by pretending you don’t see.”
– George Jones lyrics

Morning arrives.  As it always does.

The sunlight shines through the slats in the blinds of her bedroom and, one by one, the rays begin to touch her face like the impatient tiny hands of a small child.  She smiles a sleepy, happy smile and slips out of bed ready to start her day.  As she walks to the bedroom door, she has the sudden sensation that she might have forgotten something, but can’t quite put her finger on what it might be.  After only a slight hesitation, she proceeds to open her bedroom door and step into her life.

Something is wrong.

Immediately, she notices that things look…well, different.  She can’t quite explain what it is.  It’s just different.  Her life is there, the same as it was yesterday.  The people, the surroundings, everything is in its rightful place.  But it’s all shadowed somehow.  The hue is wrong.  Something is off.

She begins to interact with the people in her life, but they are different.  Gone are the halos from yesterday, and in their place are shadows.  Frowns have replaced smiles.  Insults have replaced compliments.  In the span of one night, everyone has become needy.  Selfish.  They pull at her.  Grasp at her. Want from her.

What is happening?

She knows everything is wrong, and yet she still has a role to play.  The world around her has changed, but she still must perform.  She is a mother, a child, a sibling, an employee, a loved one.  She must continue.  She must try to pretend that everything is not different.

The show must go on.

But how?  Everything is different.

And these people – these people she barely even recognizes anymore – they clamour; they pull; they expect.  They get angry when she’s not the same as she was yesterday.  How can she be the same?  Don’t they see?  Don’t they understand that everything she thought her world to be just yesterday suddenly…isn’t?

Have they known this all along?  Was she the only one who hadn’t seen the world this way?  Was there a secret she wasn’t let in on?

And why now?

She just wants to go back to yesterday.

She trudges through her day, trying to love the strangers that have replaced the cast of her life.  She breathes in, she breathes out.  She manages.

Finally, this day in her new life is complete.

She is back home.  She heads to her bedroom; her sanctuary.  Everything will be better there.  She starts towards her bedside…

And stops in her tracks.

There it is.

How could she have forgotten?  She knows this gear is expected of her.  Necessary to her survival.  She learned this lesson long ago.  And yet here she went an entire day without it.  How stupid of her.  How careless.

For there, lying right at her bedside table where she had left them, were her most important accessory.  The item she wore everyday and refused to forget had somehow slipped her mind this morning.  And now, here they were.  Waiting to make everything right.

On her nightstand, lay her pair of rose-colored glasses.

Ahhhh.  Now, she is reminded of why she wears them.  Now she remembers the time before she found them.  Before she knew of their importance.  Usually she only allowed herself to take them off before drifting off to sleep – only allowing her natural sight to escape in her dreams.  The natural sight was too blinding for the daytime.  Too uncomfortable.  Too real.  Her eyes had stung too many times before she found these precious shields.

How could she have forgotten them?

She climbs into bed, and drifts off to sleep.

***

Morning arrives.  As it always does.

Again, the childlike “hands” of sunshine reach through the blinds and caress her into consciousness.  She does as she does every morning, and immediately reaches for her glasses.

And then she remembers.

Yesterday.

Had it been a dream?  Surely she wouldn’t have gone a day without them, right?  Surely what she had seen was not real.  Those people in her life – she hadn’t seen beneath the surfaces, right?

Had she?

No.  Of course not.

No.

She shrugs off the thought, places her glasses back where they belong, and prays that what has been seen can be unseen.

She turns the knob, takes a deep cleansing breath, and steps into her life.

All is well.

***

“But these rose-colored glasses
That I’m looking through
Show only the beauty
And hide all the truth.”
– John Conlee lyrics

rose-colored-glasses

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12

Jul. ’13

Toes

I’m going to tell you a story about my toes.

(Yep.  She’s seriously blogging about her toes…)

You know how some people have a second toe that is longer than their big toe?  Well, holy llamas, this girl right here has a second toe that could eat her big toe for breakfast.  And still be hungry.  Oh yes, I was cursed with the longest second toe known to man.  In fact, all of my toes are pretty long.  As my boyfriend’s son recently told me, “You could play piano with those things.”

(I’m thinking of actually looking into that, by the way…)

Or another of my favorite toe stories…I once had a few actor friends crash at my house for a night when I lived the closest to a venue we had travelled to for a performance.  When everyone awoke the next morning, I asked them how they slept.  There were the obligatory “fine” responses, of course, but then…..sigh.  Then there was Evan.  Dramatic little Evan’s response?  “Well, I slept okay, but I had this nightmare.  It was awful.  I dreamed I was lying in bed sleeping and suddenly I felt something wrapped around my neck trying to choke me.  I opened my eyes, and it was your toes, Melissa!”

Ha ha.  Veeeeery funny.

So, yeah.  I’m kinda known for my horrendous toes.  And you know what I used to do?  I used to hide them.  I dreaded summer.  All the girls would pull out their cutesy little flip flops and sandals, but not this girl.  Nope, I was sporting tennis shoes no matter what time of year it was.  There was no way I was going to show the world my hideous toes.  Some things you just want to keep hidden.

But one day, that changed.  And I don’t mean that in a generic sense of the term “one day.”  I mean, I remember the exact day.

It was a particularly hot summer day and there I was sporting my tennis shoes, as usual.  I was standing in line at a gas station to pay and was looking down at the ground while I waited.  While looking down, I happened to notice the feet in front of me.  They were some chick’s cutesy little toes in a pair of cutesy little flip flops.  Of course.  I’m not gonna lie…the green-eyed monster in me started rearing its ugly head right then and there.  Why, oh why, couldn’t I have feet like that?  Why couldn’t I have the cutesy little toes and wear the cutesy little shoes?  Why did this chick get the cute toes and not me?  What a lucky, lucky girl she is.

And then I looked up.

Along with the cutesy feet, you know what else this girl had?

A bald head. 

She was a cancer patient.

Suddenly, a million memories came flooding back to me.  A few years prior to this, I too had been a bald cancer patient.  And, at the time, I was absolutely mortified by the fact that I was a 17-year-old girl with no hair.  I didn’t have the maturity yet to realize that being bald was such a small price to pay for the medicine that was saving my life.  No, I was too self-conscious and insecure for that.  I was just worried about how I looked.  I wouldn’t let anyone take any pictures of me without my wig on, so I have no documentation whatsoever of that time in my life.  Once I was finally able to return to school to finish my senior year, I remember a lot of the kids telling me to just take my hot, itchy wig off and wear scarves or something to make myself more comfortable.  But nope.  Silly me.  I wasn’t ready to uncover something that I felt was a flaw, even though I knew that I would be loved and embraced  regardless.

I have often looked back on that time over the years and wished that I would have just taken that thing off.  It was silly to hide behind it.  It was hot; it was uncomfortable; and I would have felt soooo much better if I would have just stopped worrying about how I looked, and just let my bald head shine for all the world to see.  It was nothing to be ashamed of.  I couldn’t help it.  I was beautiful – not in spite of my bald head, but because of it.

And now, here I was, hiding something else.  My stupid toes.

Psssh.

I silently applauded pretty-toe-girl for her confidence and strength and went home and took those uncomfortable, stupid tennis shoes off and started wearing flip-flops and sandals from that day forward.

True story.

So, why am I telling you this?

Well, first of all, I’m just warning you that – ugly toes and all – you are all about to see a whole big bunch of those annoying “toes in the sand” pictures from my beach trip next week.  My boyfriend Richard’s family does a big family beach trip every year in July and this year I’ve been upgraded from “the girl who feeds his animals while he’s away” to the girl who actually gets to GO on the trip.  Woohoo!  I’m always jealous of those pretty toe pictures at the beach that you see floating around, so I’m fully prepared to add my monstrosities to the mix.

But aside from that ugly toe warning to the general public, the real reason I’m telling you this story is that I hope maybe you’ll take something from it.  Do you have something you’re hiding?  Well, stop that.  Maybe it’s something physical like ugly toes, or maybe it’s something a little deeper.  Some part of you that you think people wouldn’t accept if they ‘saw’ it.  Either way – stop it right now.  There is no logical reason to hide something that makes you who you are.  Whatever it is, own it.  One day you’ll look back and wish you had.

Be comfortable.  Be confident.  Be you.

Show your toes. 

Got it?

Oh.  And I just don’t have the heart to make you read all this and not actually get to see my ugly toes.  So, here ya go…

toesblog

***

“I got my toes in the water, ass in the sand
Not a worry in the world, a cold beer in my hand
Life is good today. Life is good today.”
– Zac Brown Band lyrics

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09

Jul. ’13

Criticism

criticism2

You know what’s really, really hard to do?

Not letting people’s opinions of you matter.

You know what’s even harder than that?

Not letting people’s opinions of your work matter.  And by work, I mean my writing.

Now, granted, I don’t get paid to write.  (Well, I did once, but I don’t see that becoming a regular thing.)  But I honestly view writing as “work” in a way.  No, I don’t get a paycheck, but I do get compensation.  And that compensation lies in a feeling of accomplishment.  A deep knowing that I’m doing what I’m meant to do.  I don’t know if anything I have said thus far has made a difference to anyone else, but I know it has made a difference to me.  I have opened up; I have taken a chance; and I have bared myself for all the world to see.  Do you have any clue how hard that is to do?  It does get easier as time goes by, mind you.  But those early days of tossing around the idea in my mind to start a blog were so nerve-wracking.  Until you’ve done it, or done something similar, you can’t understand.  I remember my hands trembling each time I pressed that big blue “publish” button.  Because each time I pressed it, I was saying, “Here I am.  What do you think?”

Now, most people have answered that “What do you think?” question in a very positive way.  Including, as I briefly mentioned before, a panel of judges in the first writing contest I had ever entered.  But there has been one person who hasn’t seen it so favorably.

And isn’t it just crazy how one person’s negative voice can speak so much more loudly in your head than many others’ positive ones?

Why is that?  Why do we allow that to happen?

Sigh.

So, honestly, there’s really no point to this blog.  I’m just venting.  Like she says, I’m just “throwing together a bunch of whiney crap.”

But hey, it’s my blog, and I’ll whine if I want to.

Something I have always taught my kids is this: When someone hurts you, let them serve as a lesson to you about the kind of person that you don’t want to be.  I hope I have never, ever, made someone feel the way this girl has made me feel.  Thank you, unkind person, for providing such a glaring example of how not to treat your fellow human beings.

I’m so glad I’m not you.

***

“Criticism really used to hurt me.  Most of these critics are usually frustrated artists and they criticize other people’s art because they can’t do it themselves.  It’s a really disgusting job.  They must feel horrible inside.”
– Rosanna Arquette

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05

Jul. ’13

Through the Sunroof

fireworkssunroof

This is a picture I took last night as I watched the fireworks from inside my car during the rain.  Pretty cool, huh?

Only….maybe not.

Sigh.

Ok, so one of the “gifts” I’ve been blessed (cursed?) with in my life is that I can never just see something on the surface.  I always look deeper, see beneath the layer of obvious.  And this is one of those times.

So, yes, it was raining.  And yes, sitting inside the car kept me from getting wet.  But I was sitting there alone.  My daughter and her friend had gotten out of the car, rain be darned, and were watching the fireworks close by while looking for other friends and not caring whether they got soaked or not.  They were having fun.  Me?  I was sitting in the safe, warm, dry, lonely car.

And that reminded me of something.

That’s how I am with friendships.

Alright, let me back up a little.

Earlier in the day, I had taken my daughter and her friend to the Independence Day parade.  While she and her friend met up with other friends and had a good time watching the parade, I stood off to the side.  Again, alone.  (My boyfriend Richard had to work.)  And standing there alone watching the parade, I noticed that my eyes kept getting drawn to a group of women to my right.  While I was supposed to be watching the marching band, the ambulances, and the classic cars roll by, instead I caught myself watching the spectators.  Especially these particular ones.  There were this group of five older ladies, and they were just about the cutest things I’d ever seen.  They were decked out in Independence Day attire – complete with little headbands with fake fireworks and their matching flag-sporting t-shirts and red capris.  And let me tell ya – these women were having a blast.  They were hooting and hollering and thought each and every float that went by was the best one of all.  I know, because I heard them say so.  They were clapping along with the music and stopping every so often to put their arms around each other and bask in the glory of the day.

I was in awe.

I mean, yes, they were a sight to behold so I’m sure I wasn’t the only one whose attention they caught.  But aside from that, seeing them struck a chord in me that I couldn’t quite explain.  I didn’t know why it made me a little sad to see them, but it did.  I didn’t give it much thought – just went back to my business.  But later that night, sitting there alone in the car watching the fireworks through my sunroof, it finally dawned on me where that sadness came from.

I don’t have that.

And it’s my own fault.

You hear talk all the time of people holding back from relationships because of trust issues and fear, etc.  That seems to be a common topic of discussion amongst our psychology-driven fellow citizens.  But I wonder if there maybe shouldn’t be a little talk about how that might apply to friendships sometimes too?  Am I the only one that holds back from becoming close to friends?  That has trouble relating and depending on others? Especially women?

Now, granted, I do have one good friend from high school that I turn to when things go wrong.  And I’d like to think she does the same with me.  Her name is Iman (but we always called her MiMi in high school, so that’s how I’ll refer to her from her on).  But Mimi is far away and most of our talks are by computer or text (my fault, not hers).  I can’t help but see the psychology behind that.  The only female friend that I really rely on is still kept at a safe distance through not only actual physical distance, but also through the ways that I choose to communicate with her.  She would love to chat on the phone sometimes, and we have a few times, but somehow I tend to shy away from it.  Too personal, maybe?  The times we have talked by phone were the times when I was at my most vulnerable – when I was extremely upset and was finally forced into letting a friend “in.”  But other than those times?  I don’t know, I just tend to stay guarded.  Alone.

(Note:  “Far away” Mimi is not going to be so far away very soon.  She’s moving close to where I am in about a month.  I guess it’s time to start figuring out what the heck is wrong with me, huh?)

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I’ve tried.  I have started to make close girlfriends (ones that are actually physically nearby).  But like MiMi says, “Girl friendships take time.  They are just like guy relationships, but there’s no initial attraction or hormone release that feel good like with the opposite sex. So, it just takes time to bond.”

Well there ya go.  Therein lies part of my problem, I suppose.  To put your time and effort into something requires trust that it’s going to be worth it in the end.  And “trust?”  Yeah, I’m not so good at that.  When the going gets tough, this tough girl gets going.  Right on out the door.

I don’t really have a point to this blog, I don’t suppose.  I guess it’s just one of those times when I felt like writing about something that was really bothering me – the things that I sometimes try to keep to myself, but that my writer’s brain can’t ignore.  I guess I also would like some feedback.  Are you like this?  Any idea why I am?  Got any good drugs I can borrow?

Ok, that last one was a joke.

Sort of.

But seriously – I guess it’s time for me to start getting out of the car, ya know?  Time to get out there and watch the fireworks on the big screen of life, instead of through the tiny little sunroof of safety.  Yes, I may get a little wet from the rain at times, but oh what a sight I will behold.

Time to realize that it might be worth a few raindrops in order to fully experience the performance, right?

***

“Standing outside the fire
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried it is merely survived
If you’re standing outside the fire”
– Garth Brooks lyrics, Standing Outside the Fire

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03

Jul. ’13

Attention

Warning.  Snark Alert.

Oh yeah, this one is going to be a little snarky.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

If you’re a regular follower of my blog, you are aware that most of my writing is on the ‘upbeat’ side.  There’s usually a lesson learned or a happy ending and so forth.  I try not to make it too cheesy, but I like to put a positive spin on life’s little ‘events.’  It’s how I get through them.  And I hope that maybe it might help some of my readers see their own situations with a new positive light.  Hey, it could happen.  No point floating through the world only seeing the bad, right?  Might as well make lemonade and whatnot.

But sometimes….

Sigh.

Sometimes things just piss me off.  And I’m not so sure there’s going to be a positive spin to put on it.  So, brace yourself.

Now, I fully understand that my writings and the things I share aren’t everyone’s cup of tea.  And that’s cool.  Whatev.  I’m not writing for you.  I’m writing for the ones who do want to read it.  (And I’m writing for myself – unloading some of this stuff in my brain to make room for other important things.)  So, basically, if you don’t like my stuff, that’s fine.  My blog and my Facebook posts are not required reading on some syllabus.  Move along.  It’s that simple.

But someone criticized me pretty harshly the other day.  They remarked that not everyone wants to read about my frilly, unimportant love life and that there are bigger things going on in the world.  And most notably – that I should stop all of these “cries for attention” with my Facebook and blog posts.

Alrighty then.

Let me tell you a little something.

I’m not stupid.  I don’t hide my head in the sand and refuse to see the events of the world around me.  You think I don’t know that bad things are happening in the world?  You think I don’t know that there are children starving in other countries?  You think I don’t know that our own country is being ripped apart by differing views on gay rights, abortion stances, lingering racism, etc.  You think I’m an idiot?  Well, I’m not.  I have a newspaper.  I have the internet.  I have a brain.

But you know what makes me different from you?

I purposely and actively choose to pay attention to the things that make me happy.

“Tell me to what you pay attention and I will tell you who you are.”
– Jose  Ortega y Gasset

Yes, those things make me sad.  Yes, I care.  Yes, I wish there was something I could do about it.  But there’s not.  Yes, it sucks that Paula Deen was/is racist.  Yes, it sucks that that signifies that there are still racial issues in this country.  But my choosing not to jump on the bandwagon of criticism and shunning her does not make me uncaring.  And it most definitely does not make me a racist.  I just understand what I can and cannot change.  One woman being an ass is not something that I have time and energy to devote to right now.  Who knows what was said and done by her?  And frankly, why should we care?  Really.  Why?  Is it a shock to you that someone in this world is racist?  Well, it shouldn’t be.  A lot of people are.  A lot of people also hate gay people and think they shouldn’t be afforded the same rights as the rest of us.  A lot of people still think women shouldn’t be in affluent positions.  A lot of people are jerks.  This shouldn’t be a newsflash.

So, no.  My blog is not centered around Paula Deen or racism or third world countries.  You’re right.  It’s not.  It’s about the things that I have in my world on a regular basis.  It’s about the battles I choose and not about the ones I don’t.

And yes, maybe I do write for “attention.”  I mean, is that really a shocker?  I’m a writer, for God’s sake.  We write to be read.  I’m also an actor.  Hello?  An actor looking for attention?  SHOCKING!  It’s who I freakin’ am.  And besides, I’m not doing anything any different than anyone else who ever posts a Facebook status.  We all just want to be heard.  Regardless of the topic.  Regardless of whether it’s uber important current issues, or whether it’s the cutesy happy events of everyday life.  If you don’t want to hear about my everyday happy life, then move along.

And hey, just for good measure, let me just wrap this up with a little lovey dovey picture of me and Richard.

changeblog

Awwwww.  Ain’t it sweet?  We’re so in love.

Oh and hey.  Here.  Look at this picture of a cute little puppy.

puppy

How’s that?

For my regular readers, I apologize for the sarcasm.  I hope you’ll be back.  This is just a temporary vent.  It happens.

But to my criticizer?

Thanks for the attention. 😉

But hey, on a serious note: I truly hope you can find happiness in your life so that you can stop focusing on the things that make you miserable.  I used to be just like you.  It’s a sad, sad place to be.  When you want to enact change, focusing on the negative is not going to work.  Broadcasting the negative is not going to work.  Screaming at the people who disagree with you is not going to work.

“Be the change you wish to see in the world.”
– Mahatma Gandhi

You want things to change, something to disappear, something to go way?  Stop feeding it.  Stop spreading it.

If you have an unwelcomed dinner guest, stop setting a place for them at your table.

It’s that simple.  (Believe me – I’ve had to learn that lesson myself lately.)

You alone cannot change how someone else thinks – you can’t change the whole world with one mean-spirited Facebook post.  But you can change your world.  Choose what you concentrate on.  Choose where you put your energies.

Choose happiness.

I’m not saying one person can’t eventually change the world.  Maybe they can.  But I’m certain that they should probably start with changing their own world first.

***

“A positive attitude causes a chain reaction of positive thoughts, events and outcomes.  It is a catalyst and it sparks extraordinary results.”
– Wade Boggs

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01

Jul. ’13

Anniversary

“We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.”
– W. Somerset Maugham

Today, July 1, is mine and Richard’s first anniversary.

Well, sort of.

I always hesitate before I write a “personal” blog like this.  And by personal, I don’t mean it’s stuff that I don’t want to share.  Shoot, I’ll share anything you want to know.  No, I mean “personal” in that, it’s my story.  It’s not a general blog that everyone can relate with.  It’s specific.  It’s mine.  But in the past, each time I went ahead and ignored my hesitation and posted a personal blog anyway, they always seem to get the most response.  At first, that used to baffle me.  But over time, I’ve come to realize that people just are generally interested in other people’s stories.  It’s what makes us all ‘connected.’ We like to know each other – know where we come from, why we are the way we are, how we got to the point we got to.  And then we like to see similarities in our own situations and compare our story to theirs.  It’s just part of the human experience.  All of these individual stories work together to create unique squares on the tapestry of humanity.

So, no hesitation this time.  Here’s my contribution to the “quilt.”

I’m just going to tell you a little bit about us – about how happy I am and about how it wasn’t easy getting here.  And maybe you won’t get too bored with it.  This is not your typical lovey dovey “how we met and fell in love” story.

No, our story isn’t quite so cut and dry as that.

Richard and I have trouble deciding what our exact “anniversary” is.  And the reason for that is that we had a little bit of a bumpy start.  There’s no precise before & after line.  There’s a huge pile of gray area.  (And I’m willing to bet that a lot of other couples have this kind of story too.)

Richard and I were a “set up” of sorts.  I had just joined a new theatre and was, yet again, newly single.  A co-actor mentioned Richard’s name once in a “I have a friend I think you’d like…” kind of way back in April of 2012. (I still owe you for that, Barry!)  My initial reaction, of course, was the proud single lady’s response of, “No thanks.  I’m perfectly fine being single.  I don’t need a man to complete me…” blah, blah, blah.  But the second Barry had left the room?  I had my cell phone out looking up this Richard guy on Facebook.  I wasn’t going to “add” him or anything like that.  I mean, come on.  I wasn’t that pathetic.  But stalk him?  Oh yeah.  That was totally acceptable, right?

Well, a few days later, I get a Facebook add from said Richard.  (Hmmm…guess Barry mentioned his little idea to both of us, not just me.)  I added him, and sent a message saying pretty much that very thing.  We laughed about it and proceeded to write back and forth for a few weeks.  I don’t know what it was about those messages, but I was so intrigued by this guy.  First of all, his grammar and punctuation were spot on.  I mean, hello!?  We ALL know that is of the utmost importance in determining potential, right?  But even aside from gaining this wanna-be English teacher’s approval with all the capital letters and periods, he also impressed me with the subjects he wanted to talk about.  We talked about our kids, my theatre, and his music.  All things that were very important to us.  No stupid flirty “hey baby, you wanna go out sometime?” nonsense.  Just real life “here’s what’s important in my life” talk.  I liked that.

So, we planned to meet.

Ironically, our first meeting took place at the theatre.  His son was auditioning for the next summer musical, Oliver, and I was planning to be there as well.  So, since we were both going to be in town, and his son was going home with his mom after the audition, we decided to plan to meet there and then go out to dinner afterwards.  (Little did we know at the time how instrumental that theatre was going to be in the “story of us.”)

Oh my gosh, I was a nervous wreck.  What do I wear?  What do I talk about?  Will I even recognize this dude from his pictures? Will we be able to talk in person like we’ve done on Facebook?  I had heard that this guy was the “quiet, shy type.”  What in the heck would we have in common??  “Quiet” and “shy” were two words that had never – not once – been used to describe me.  I was exactly the opposite.

Well, worries aside, the meeting went pretty smoothly.  I recognized him immediately.  We walked in together; sat together; chatted about a million things (ok, maybe that was just me chatting nervously, but whatever).  Went to dinner afterwards.  And then again the next night.  And then again the next night.  In fact, we pretty much jumped in head first.

Here’s a picture of us on one of our first dates.

anniversary1

We went from “single and hurting over a past relationship,” to “in a new relationship” in the drop of a hat.

And boy was that a BAD idea.

After about a week of that, it fizzled.  Ok, I’m lying.  It didn’t fizzle.  He got scared and ran.  I was hurt, but at the same time, not surprised.  Deep down, I knew he wasn’t ready, and frankly, neither was I.  Oh well.  No harm done, right?  Move along.

But darn it.

There was just something about that guy.

I went on to get involved with Oliver at the theatre.  My daughter decided to get involved with the theatre for the first time and was cast as one of the orphan boys, along with Richard’s son, Riley.  I spent a lot of one-on-one time with the kids and ended up being crazy about Riley.  And so was my daughter.  They became fast friends.  Soon after, Riley’s little sister Lauren joined the cast and we became just as close to her.  It was so hard not to adore his kids.  But what a strange situation.  I date this guy temporarily, he disappears from my life, and suddenly, I find myself falling in love with his kids when he was nowhere around.  Weird.

So, eventually, as showtime neared, Richard started spending some time at the theatre as well.  We were both new runners, so we kept to the safe subject of running and avoided any mention of having dated before.  Eventually, the talks of running turned into talks about the kids.  And talks about the theatre.  And talks about his music.  And finally, hesitantly, to talks about why the two of us hadn’t worked out.  He finally told me his story of his past relationship and how he had jumped the gun in moving on.  I told him my past stories as well and eventually…well, I don’t know.  We became friends.  Really good friends.  I decided maybe this is what had been fated all along.  Maybe we weren’t meant to be a couple, per se.  We had so much in common – kids in the theatre, being performers ourselves, being new runners, both of our professions being the real estate field.  Yes, he was quiet and I was loud.  But that didn’t matter – we had enough in common to make us drawn to each other.  I was just going to have to accept that it was to be in a “friends” aspect and not in the romance department.

Psssh.

Yeah, I could tell myself that crap all day long.  But then I’d pass him backstage in the dark wings and my heart would flutter.  I knew I couldn’t just be his friend.  I knew it.  But I had to do what I had to do.  I wanted this man in my life and I was just going to have to accept that I didn’t get to choose the specific role he played.

And then…well, something changed.

I got stung by a bee.

No, really.  I got stung by a bee and the whole dynamic of who we were changed.  (I’m not sure if he’d tell this story the same way I am, but after reading this, I think he’ll see it for what it was too.)

The show had ended and our “required” time together had passed by.  There were no longer circumstances that would put us in the same place at the same time.  We continued texting and talking, and even had a “friendly” dinner together one evening.  But that whole “couple” thing was still just not happening.

Cue the bee sting.

The weekend before Independence Day, we were doing separate things – he was off with friends and I was at the pool with my kids.  While packing our things to leave the pool, I got stung on the back.  I didn’t think much of it (other than the passing thought that I couldn’t remember having been stung by a bee since I was a small child, if even then) and we went on about our business.  But as we were getting in the car, I realized  that something was wrong.  My throat started closing up and I began to get welts all over me.  I was having an allergic reaction.  Here I was, the only adult out with two kids and I wasn’t exactly sure what to do.  I was still able to drive to the gas station nearby, and I had my son go in and buy me some Benadryl.  Eventually, the symptoms passed somewhat and I was able to drive home.  All in all, it was a pretty scary situation.  But I got through it and just realized that I better carry Benadryl with me from then on.  Apparently I’m allergic to bees.  Who knew?

So, later that night, Richard texts and asks about my day.  I tell him about the bee scenario and he responds, “Why didn’t you call me?”

Huh?

Why didn’t I call him?  Why would I have called him?  What did it have to do with him?

And then, it dawned on me.  I wondered if he was starting to see me in that way.  In the, “I’m the one she should call when she needs someone” way.  And the next day, I got my answer.  He asked me to come over.  And I did.  That’s when he told me that this weekend had felt different.  That at one point, he realized that he missed me.

That we should have been together.

And there you have it.  That was July 1.  So, we decided we’d use that day as the day we became “official.”

I wish I could tell you that it was happily ever after from that day forward.  But it wasn’t.  We still had some issues to overcome.  We still had some annoying little “past” pests to swat away at times.  Even let it break us up once for a while.  (And you know what put us back together?  Yet again – the theatre.  I was cast as his son’s mom in a production.  So, as much as we wanted to be apart, life wouldn’t let us.  Thank goodness for the theatre.)

So, yes, there have been some tough times, but we’ve managed.  We just keep finding our way back somehow.

See, that’s the thing about something that’s meant to be.  No matter how much you try to fight it, it always manages to happen anyway.  In spite of you.

So, no.  The first year of our story hasn’t been the typical fairy tale.  (And really, whose love story is?)  We’ve seen each other through the good and bad, through the best and worst of our personalities.  By starting out as friends, we came to know each other in a different way than we would have if we had continued dating from the beginning.  We told each other the truth.  We exposed the “ugly” underneath and, lo and behold, we’re still here.

We’re still here.

Warts and all.

anniversary3

I love this man with all of my heart.  And I know, without a doubt, that he loves me too.

And I can guarantee you that I’ll be here blogging on July 1, 2014, about all that happened in Year #2.

Because when you know, you just know.

Happy Anniversary, sweetheart.

***

“If you meet somebody and they love you when you are your true, awful, not-ready-yet, boring, not cool enough, not handsome enough, not pretty enough, too fat, too poor self?  And if you love them back so much that it makes you calm? And they have flaws and you do not mind a single one of them?….If you found that, you found it.”
– Augusten Burroughs

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26

Jun. ’13

Tomorrow

Well, it’s here!

annie2

Tomorrow night is finally opening night for ANNIE!  And I couldn’t let this day go by without a blog shout-out to my daughter, Kelly.  Tomorrow night, she will walk out onto a stage in front of a room full of people and say her first spoken line in a show ever.

Her first spoken line.  And she’s Annie!

I am blown away by the transformation I’ve seen in my little girl over the past few months of Annie rehearsals.  This is the girl who only showed up for auditions in hopes of possibly being one of the orphans (hopefully with no spoken lines), or maybe even just to help backstage like she has done in a few shows in the past.  When she was cast as Annie, she was almost in tears.  And not the happy kind either.  I’m talking more along the lines of the “Oh-my-gosh-what-have-I-gotten-myself-into-help-momma-get-me-out-of-this” kind.

And I’ll be honest with you.  I wasn’t so sure she could do it either.

Now, don’t get me wrong – I absolutely knew she was capable of it.  The girl has got a beautiful singing voice and can dance like nobody’s business.  And she looks the part, without a doubt.  But to have the courage to get up in front of all of these people and act?  I just wasn’t so sure.  She’s always been a “behind the scenes” kind of kid when it came to theatre.  I was the actor and she was the kid who would tag along with her mom to watch.

I remember taking her to her first professional theatre show (which was Annie, no less – at Barter Theatre in Abingdon, Virginia).  At one point, after being mesmerized myself by the phenomenal performance taking place in front of me, I glanced over to see Kelly’s reaction to the show.  And what was she doing?  The little thing was turned around backwards in her seat staring up at the lighting booth and the spotlight operator.  She was so much more interested in how they were making the show, rather than the show itself.  Yep, she loved theatre – but in a much different way than her momma did.  She wasn’t just interested in the acting.  She fell in love with the process.

And now here she is – the lead role in the summer musical.

It still seems so surreal to me.  It has been amazing watching her come out of her shell.  She didn’t just peep her head out from the shadows to see what was happening on the stage.  She made a huge, flying leap right into the spotlight.  And let me tell you – this is where she belongs.  And I think she’s starting to see that too.  All she needed was a little confidence.

And this brings me to the point I’m really trying to make with all of this.

print3I’m so incredibly proud of my daughter.  I mean, what mom wouldn’t be?  But that pride doesn’t come from the fact that she’s Annie.  Yes, she has learned to control her beautiful voice and sing songs that she thought she couldn’t manage just a few short months ago.  Yes, she has studied hard and learned her lines and rarely misses a beat.  Yes, she has done all of the things that make her a great little actress and has come a very long way since that scared little girl was given the news that she was going to be Annie.  But none of that is what makes me the most proud.

What makes me the most proud is watching as her confidence and ability soars to new heights, and yet her ego and humility have not budged.

She is the most gracious, most appreciative kid I think I’ve ever seen.  She takes compliments from people with a shy sweetness that does not indicate one little ounce of arrogance.  She sent out a mass email to the cast and crew last night thanking everyone for their hard work – from the make-up ladies to the costume maker and everyone in between.  She has learned first hand how much work it takes to create something this spectacular, and she appreciates each and every minute detail that has been put into making the show a success.  That’s something a lot of actors never take the time to see.  (I know I’ve been guilty of it myself at times.  Too often, actually.)

To excel at something, even attain a bit of greatness at it, and yet still maintain a humble heart?  That is something that is very hard to do.  It takes a special kind of person for that.  I think we could all learn a lesson or two from my little Annie.

And, in closing, I want to mention one more proud momma moment.

I too am in the show.  And last night – our second-to-last dress rehearsal before opening night – I felt completely miserable.  What is probably an ear and sinus infection (who has time or money to go to the doctor?) hit its peak last night and my body refused to cooperate any further.  For the first time in my career as an actor, I had to miss a dress rehearsal.  I couldn’t leave, of course, since I was little Annie’s ride home – so someone suggested that I go lie down on a couch in the lobby.  So, I did.  I took my feverish self to the lobby and crashed.  And no sooner did I lie down, than I was out like a light.  I only woke up about three times during the entire performance.  And you know why?

Once was when Kelly was bringing me a drink of water.

Another time was when she brought a blanket she found in the dressing room to put over me.

And the final time was when she came to tell me the show was over and that it was time to go home.

There she was in one of her final dress performances in her first starring role, and yet she took every down moment she had between her many costume changes and stage appearances, to come check on her sick mom.

Have I mentioned how proud I am of my daughter?  I want to be just like her when I grow up.

I know every mom is supposed to brag on our kids.  It’s our job.  But in my case?  In my case, I’ve got someone pretty special here that calls me Mommy.  She is definitely a star – on and off the stage.

So, break a leg, sweet girl!  It’s your turn to shine.

***

“It must have been cold there in my shadow
To never have sunlight on your face
You were content to let me shine, that’s your way
You always walked a step behind
So I was the one with all the glory,
while you were the one with all the strength.
A beautiful face without a name for so long.
A beautiful smile to hide the pain
Did you ever know that you’re my hero?
You’re everything I wish I could be
I can fly higher than an eagle
Because you are the wind beneath my wings.”
– Bette Midler, Wind Beneath My Wings

Posted by . Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . 2 Comments

25

Jun. ’13

Writing Pays Off

So, Friday, June 21, 2013, I received my first-ever award for writing.  I won first place in the essay division of the Chautauqua Creative Writing Festival in Wytheville, Virginia.  Here is a picture of me with the guest speakers at the event, authors Mary Lin Brewer and Rosa Lee Jude.  (They are co-authors for a new historical fiction book series entitled The Legends of Graham Mansion.)  My sweet boyfriend Richard who came along took this picture for us.  I’m shown with the certificate that was presented to me for my “meritorious writing abilities.”  It really says that right there on the certificate.

Meritorious writing abilities.

Awesome.

award

But you know what’s even more awesome?  Here’s the picture I really wanted to take while I was there, but was too chicken and decided to wait for a more tactful setting.  Safe at home.

checkpic

Cha-ching!

Oh yeah, baby.  That’s a check.  A real live check for my writing.  MY WRITING.  A check.  Holy cow!

It’s such an awesome feeling to get a check for doing something that you just love to do for fun.  I think back to the day I wrote the particular entry that won this contest, and I am blown away that that feeling of insecurity that overcame me at the time managed to lead to such an awesome thing.  Isn’t that crazy?

There I was, sitting in the middle of an uncomfortable “woe is me” situation, and then fast forward a few months and I’m holding a check in my hand because of it.  Interesting.

Kind of makes you think a little, doesn’t it?

Who’s to say that whatever crap you’re dealing with right now at this very moment isn’t going to lead to something as awesome as that?  It’s worth considering, wouldn’t you say?

Hang in there.  It all happens for a reason, my friends.

***

“Everything happens for a reason.  That reason causes change.  Sometimes the change hurts.  Sometimes the change is hard.  But in the end, it’s all for the best.”
– Rita Ghatourey

Links if you’re interested:

Entry that won the contest: https://missyspublicjunk.wordpress.com/2013/04/11/fully-dressed/

Info on the Legends of Graham Mansion as referenced above: http://www.legendsofgrahammansion.com/

Posted by . Categories: Freestyle Writings/Musings. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , . 2 Comments