Despite my heavy love for rock and metal, I am an excellent dancer. I was born in 1973, so my ears were blessed with everything from the Bee Gees to The Cars to Dokken to Slayer.
And I can dance to all of it. Because dancing makes everything better. If you’re in a bad mood or feeling down, I challenge you to put on any song you like and dance to it. How could you be bummed out and dance at the same time?
You can’t! There is no way someone could be sad or mad or upset or depressed while dancing. It goes against the theory of dancing relativity. Okay, so that theory doesn’t exist, but if it did, my statement would be the basis.
You cannot be sad while dancing.
The first time I danced to anything was in my crib as a baby when I wouldn’t stop crying. My grandmother told me I was wailing and wailing and she had two choices: smother me or soothe me. She took the little Fisher Price music box on the dresser, wound it up and threw it in my crib.
I stopped crying and started kicking my feet and smiling.
So I guess the first time I danced was before I could walk. And I still love it. Every day on my way back and forth to work I have the radio turned up loud and sing and dance in my seat to get through my grueling one hour commute (two hour round trip).
Even when I used to drink and go to bars, I always made sure I was at a bar that had a working jukebox or a live band because the music made it better.
Music is life. Dancing is a close second.
I’m still writing the NaNoWriMo 2017 novel.
Keep on keepin’ on friends! What are you working on this month?
Well, I have been on vacation all week, and I thought that would lead me over here to blog more, but in fact, I have been on the computer less. I took some much needed me time in order to prepare for NaNoWriMo 2017 by spending a lot of time outdoors. I took a ton of photographs (some I may even have printed and framed), and I am in fact, working on my next novel. My other one is currently being legitimately proofread which is exciting because that one I will be pushing to publish.
So far I have written almost 10,000 words in the last three days on my current project. I like to get ahead as much as possible in case something comes up and I can’t write. I also like to do it that way because by mid-November I am sometimes sick of my work in progress and therefore I don’t have to write as many words in a day.
Halloween was uneventful except for the next day when I went to the grocery store and got a bunch of leftover candy for 70% off.
Other than that, it has been writing, spending time with the hubs and the cat and many naps.
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 was born and raised in the city and I hated almost every moment of my life there. My grandmother lived in the greater northeast part of Philadelphia, and while still the city, it was calmer than my neighborhood. Plus she lived down the street from a section of Pennypack Park where I spent most of my outdoor childhood when I was at her place. Being in the woods was nicer than being in the city.
The cacophony of traffic, people, heavy equipment, and sirens was enough to drive me insane. My neighborhood wasn’t too chaotic, but when I got older I had to go to schools outside Bridesburg and there were more people, trolleys, buses, and lots of noise. A few times I cut school with a friend and we took the el train down to the Gallery in Center City Philadelphia and that was insane!
All the noise and business frustrated me.
Almost every weekend I would go up my grandmother’s place and despite her still living in the city, she lived in a less congested part and it was like a breath of only semi-polluted air. Then we would take a ride out to New Hope, PA and that was mind-blowing.
It was so quiet! Where was the cacophonyof madness that was in the city? Where were the loud vehicles, screaming children and occasional, rambling lunatic at Bridge & Pratt?
How could I make these twisty, tree-lined roads a reality for myself?
The stillness, the glimpse of a deer on the side of the road, old cemeteries and farmhouses and of course, the little borough of New Hope with it’s quiet, bustling Main Street was enough to instill in me a life goal of becoming a lawyer, moving to New Hope and having a cat – but no kids.
Life didn’t go that way and now here I am, almost thirty years later, back in school as I try to make my dream of small town, quiet living a reality. My husband and I are researching small towns in Pennsylvania because as soon as I get my degree (I am thinking Behavioral Science now) we are effing out of here! We live in a suburban borough, but it is still too busy for me.
Every Sunday, my husband and I take a drive out to a new town in the country and I love every moment of our adventure. Yesterday we wound up in Lehighton, PA and found a cool fall festival loaded with awesome treats, great crafts, and free parking!
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.
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...