Real quick: I love fried mushrooms with a nice, juicy steak. Other than that, not really. But every time I hear the word MUSHROOMS, I think of some skit like Cheech and Chong as they said, ‘Shrooms man, f**king shrooms.’ Though after thinking about it, I am pretty sure it was Dennis Leary in a stand-up routine Lock ‘n Load.
The mushrooms in the picture, however, are apparently little homes for little gnome folk! Or maybe Smurfs. I used to watch the Smurfs when I was a kid… I think they came onto the cartoon scene right about the time I was wrapping up with it.
Anyway, how was your week? How much did you accomplish? I am 40,000 words into my NaNoWriMo novel, so I am hoping to be done by this weekend. Of course, it is 40,000 words of pure crap, but it is 40,000 words none the less and at the very least a blueprint in which to work with.
This was a classic joke when I was in grade school! We’d crack up every time. Do you remember this joke?
I’m all over the place today… I go on vacation from the day job at 1:00 pm today and will not be back until 8:30 am on Monday, November 6th! I got plans for writing, traveling, cemeteries and photography.
Also, decluttering! And maybe some naps.
I am trying to write this damn memoir, but everything is pouring out of me in little piles of shit and it is frustrating the hell out of me. I guess I should just write it down. I started one before, but that one is more of an autobiography and I am not famous enough (yet!) for anyone to give a shit about my entire life. But I wrote until I got to the really hellish part and then stopped.
Now that is where I feel I need to focus to finish this process of healing.
I got tunes and coffee lined up for my writing projects (I told you I am doing NaNoWriMo, yes?) to complete another book!
Have a great day my friends. I will see you from time to time next week.
My life was surreal until about five years ago when I finally met someone on the same frequency as me in any aspect of my thinking. Is there anything more refreshing than meeting someone who ‘gets us’ in any way? I don’t think so.
Back to my story.
2007 was coming to a close and I had recently started my new job. Money was tight and like an elf without toy making tools, I was worried about Christmas. To be blunt, I needed money. And I had an idea on how to get it: win it in a radio contest.
All I had to do was submit my name and a time and the radio station would do the rest. I just had to listen for my name to float across the airwaves in the DJ’s voice, call up, say I was me and voila… a guaranteed $100 with the potential for $500.
I walked in the park a lot on my lunch and this one day was no different, except that, I had a feeling. Sometimes when I get feelings, I talk to animals. And sometimes they talk back. I never told people this because people tend to not accept anything further than their own reality.
In essence, people would call me batshit crazy. But I do get feelings and for some reason, even to this day, ignore them. Nothing ever goes well when I ignore my feelings – intuition I guess it is.
I was walking in the park and thinking about that money and how much it would help me. As I walked I saw something pretty fascinating.
I saw a red tail hawk in a tree. Not ON a tree where they often are. But in a tree on a midlevel branch. Winter approached and most of the leaves were dead on the ground much like I felt my life was at that moment.
I looked at that hawk. He looked at me. I thought, ‘They’re going to call my name, aren’t they?” A voice said, “Yes.” I thought, “I’m not going to hear it am I?” A voice said, “No.”
If you’re still reading, this is an insane exchange to the average person. Who the hell talks to hawks, and more importantly when the hell would a hawk ever talk to a human? That is another story for another time. I am deeply connected with nature, and particularly hawks. I walked for another ten minutes or so, and when I came back by the tree where the hawk was, it was empty. No hawk.
After my gathering with nature, I went back to work and as I did my tasks, listened to the great classic rock tunes pouring out of my internet radio. And then, the DJ said,
“Time to announce another name for the radio station payroll of one hundred dollars an hour! And that name is________________”
Wait. What? I freaked. The station decided to buffer and cut out just as they said the name! They couldn’t have called me right? I mean that would be nuts. I even called the radio station and was going to ask if they called my name but when the DJ picked up, I chickened out and hung up the phone.
I kept listening (now that the radio station didn’t cut out magically) and the DJ said:
“Well, looks like Joe Smith is still on the payroll because Darlene Steelman didn’t report for work.”
WHAT?!?!?! The hawk was right?!
Oh. My. Freaking. Gawd.
I was devastated. Partly because I didn’t win money that could have helped me but more so because that was not the first time (nor would it be the last) in my life I didn’t listen to that voice. That voice has spoken to me over the years in various ways taking on various forms and that has only happened to me since I had my accident in 1996 when I lost oxygen and was dead for a good half hour. That’s a whole other story.
Oh, and by the way… that weekend I went and got a radio for the office because no way in hell was my opportunity to win money going to solely rest on the flakiness of internet radio and a message from a woodland raptor!
Have you ever second guess yourself and wish that you hadn’t?
I have a confession: I was a huge Madonna fan when I was little. I loved her! My mother? Not so much. I once asked for a BOY TOY belt buckle and my mother flipped. I didn’t know what it meant! Still, her belt buckle and slithering ways weren’t what lead me down a path of promiscuity. Despite her being ‘not what everyone thought she should be’ I feel Madonna really set the bar for a lot of women and girls because she had no fear. She did what she wanted (risque at times) and she was good at it.
There has always been this separate set of rules for men and women and people like her have slowly closed the gap. I remember when I was about 25, arguing with someone about promiscuity. Why was/is it okay for men to sleep around but not for women?
Anyway, that is a post for another day.
The point here is, EXPRESS YOURSELF! YES.
Why are many of us so afraid to express ourselves? I was always afraid because my mind doesn’t work like most other minds. Sometimes I believe I am a psychopath with a conscience. I love animals and bugs more than most humans. I love to write about dark and disturbing things. I have tried to write about happy shit, I have tried to love shopping and I have also tried desperately to love the color pink.
I love bugs, cars, getting dirty, football, serial killers (their minds, not their actions), abandoned buildings, barns, and farmhouses. I love it all! And I am still looking for a way to express my likes and loves into my art and words.
Though I haven’t painted anything in months, I think about it often. I mean, it feels so good sometimes to just let it out! Draw it out, paint it out, write it out, sing it out, dance it out, photograph it out, sketch it out, scream it out.
This post isn’t terribly fantastic (again) but I am on day three with this stupid migraine. The frustration I feel with this thing is palpable and only matched by my sheer annoyance that it is only Thursday.
For as much as I would love to be a solitary soul, living in the woods among the critters, trees, and occasional wasp eating snake, I know that at this point in my life, it is not feasible. I am part of society (though, these days, the term society is subjective) and I kind of need you guys.
I have always been to myself and at times have gone out of my way to avoid society. I am an introvert and I store up on people energy about once or twice a month. I’ll go to a market, or a concert, or maybe even a park with a lot of people. I’ll fill up on all the energy until I am exhausted and go home to take a nap.
Then I am good for about a month. I am not a recluse… I am an introvert. That picture up there is my idea of heaven on earth. The woods, a log cabin and no one around for miles. I could do it.
As long as I had books, coffee, music, a camera, and an internet connection, I could do it. Because then I could be alone, without really being alone. Despite my aversion to small talk, I do need you guys.
We all need each other.
Happy Friday, y’all. I submitted my project for my one class… didn’t get as good a grade as I hoped, but I am confident I will get a ‘B’ in the class because of all my others grades. Philosophy class is wrapping up as well. I have A’s across the board in Phil 101, so the pressure is on to write two A papers before Monday morning.
Sharing my story openly and honestly about living, surviving and thriving with Bipolar 1 Disorder and PTSD to increase awareness, educate, reduce stigma, prevent suicide, inspire, give hope and let God's love shine through me and touch you...