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In April I finally took the plunge and enrolled in a community college degree program. It has been over 15 years since I’ve walked the halls of my high school alma mater. It’s not that college wasn’t on my “to-do list”, rather I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grew up and well, I felt like I had the time to figure things out. I did and I still do, but gradually I have been feeling age pressing upon me. To say I feel old doesn’t quite capture the substance of my statement. It’s as though I’m haunted by time. I feel closer to the end than when I started.

The passage of time has revealed many lessons, most of which I was warned about, but like every other head-strong individual I preferred the personal experience rather than taking anyone’s word for it. There are pros and cons to all of those experiences, but I probably couldn’t have skipped any of them on my way to becoming me. Would it have been wiser to have obtained a degree 10 years ago? Maybe and maybe not. I certainly would feel differently about the time I’ve used and the time that remains, but I’m not sure if I would be any closer to the success I have defined for myself. The funny thing about that success is that it’s subject to the very same passage of time. It has been changing right along with me and who knows how I will define it tomorrow.

In April my goal was a two-year accounting degree. In May I changed my major to business studies. In July I admitted something to myself. In August I spoke with my English 101 professor about becoming a professional writer. In all honesty, I’d really like to have her job. Rewinding a little over a year, it occurred to me that I would like to be a writer. Then I realized, if I write I am a writer. I just haven’t been sure how to put that to use in terms of making a living. I may not be sure but I’m not going to allow more under-utilized time slip by. I’m going to make use of my time and figure it out.


Communication for the Needy

A picture of my own Smart car.

Smart Car. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It makes me feel like a bad parent to admit that my children annoy me at times. Take, for instance, this question that was posed by one of my children, “Mom, do all cars only fit five people?” Now we’ve all heard it said that there are no stupid questions, but I’m just not convinced. How did I answer? My typical response; “What do you think?” I like to encourage my kids to use logic and think for themselves. I don’t think the answer mattered so much anyway; clearly my child just needed some attention.

All people, not just children, are hungry for attention. We all have needs which include wanting to be seen, heard and understood. These aren’t annoying qualities, but the way in which we seek this validation can often be interpreted as such. Take for instance those labeled as needy. If you have labeled someone, or have been labeled yourself, as needy a certain measure of negativity is implied in the meaning. Now I don’t know a person that doesn’t have needs, but due to that negative characterization of the word we wouldn’t call everyone with perceived needs needy, although it would be accurate to do so. View full article »

Not a Love Song

Not a Love Song

Crickets chirp a lullaby
As moon light peaks through the open door
She lies quiet in her reverie
Thoughts of him
Of his touch
His scent
Salty lips
No one there to hold her
She rises from the heat
Grabs a smoke and sits and thinks and hopes
Foregone cradling her heart
She will stand her ground

Yesterday I found out I am going to be without paid employment for several months.
I’m not going to bother mixing words here, this sucks. With tax season gearing up in January I will be back at it, but bills and such don’t wait around for the work to be done and paid for. They have a habit of preferring to be paid before their due dates, which don’t all coincide with the end of tax season.

Now I have some decisions to make; as in what the hell am I gonna do? My heart and my head often want to carry me off in opposing directions and it feels like it’s up to my body to stay the course or find a better one. Path A through sunlight meadows under bright, cheery, topaz skies full of butterflies and pretty stuff: Find some temporary hold over job til tax season gets under way. Path B through forests of imposing trees and gnarly undergrowth with the possibility of things that bite around the far bend: Find an altogether new job that will provide steady, year-round income. Path C through, no, no over steep, jagged, mortally dangerous inclines rife with scary, mean and probably hairy stuff : Go to school and get that English or Journalism degree I wish I had done way back when.

Alright, Path A provides me with the availability to pursue a freelance writing career “on the side”. Tax season, as you all are well aware, is rather brief, leaving a large part of the year to focus on my passions. One can conceivably generate an entire year’s salary in 3 and a half months. That fact alone makes this path really, really appealing in that I wouldn’t be dependent on my writing for anything sustainable. And as it stands, at this point, I can’t be dependent on my writing in anyway because it’s only provision has been warm fuzzies and sadly our economy doesn’t run on such things. Luckily, I’m no stranger to hard work; slinging shit or flipping burgers, if one or the other, would pay the bills are not opportunities I consider myself to good to undertake. So, in summary, nose to the grind stone January through April 15 and lots of free time the remainder of the year for getting carried away by my finger tips. Oh, I should mention that I haven’t yet actually been able to generate an entire year’s salary during tax season, that too, could be just another pipe dream.

So Plan B sounds feasible as a solution, but maybe not as immediate as I need it to be, and an awful lot like more of the same. Let’s say I may or may not be successful finding a new job in which case I may or may not be doing what I am now, then I may or may not have the ability to maintain my currently, well-oiled routine, and I may or may not find it a rewarding career, either way, I’m concerned about not having time to pursue writing on a regular basis. Finding a decent paying job, convenient to home, that is flexible and fits into my lifestyle, that I can actually land isn’t all that easy. It’s not easy; nope not. I have done the job search thing a few times since May, over the course of my partial layoff, and it hasn’t  been easy. Did I mention it’s hard? And does it even need to be said that it hasn’t been fruitful? Let’s say I send out 10 resumes a day over the course of a week, if I get one phone call back and get one interview, I am still one of umpteensomenumber other candidates all equally as needy and eager for the job. And, and, and, they all know they have to send thank you letters and make follow up phone calls and be not annoyingly persistent as well. Don’t be fooled by the nay-sayers, this shit for an economy has been productive on at least one front; we have at our disposal, for they are quite disposable, a plethora of accomplished job seekers. Back to the hard part, don’t think I’m complaining about having to do the leg-work, I get that part, it’s just that I need money before January.

And lastly, Plan C, my favorite nightmare, uhm, I meant daydream; college. I’m scared. It’s scary. I’m scared and it’s scary. I don’t think I need to elaborate on that. Wait, I did want to add that it has to be paid for. And so do my current expenses the bulk of which support a household for my four children.

Exit to Another Day

As dawn gives way to day
I rise rested, I am ready
I turn to you my faithful companion
Patient, waiting for my beckon
Needing escape, you are my exit
Faster, faster, slowly, faster

I seize you from your patient stance
Mount you with intention
Gently we begin our rhythm
Gyrations first slow and then
Passion driving intensity
Faster, faster, slowly, faster View full article »

What’s the word for no?

Dirty Dancing

I’m more of a dance when no one is looking kinda gal so when my sister invited me to join her and a few of our friends out in Lancaster for some dancing I said, absolutely. By now you may have picked up on the fact that I’m a huge fan of I’ve-never-done-that-before. The inside of a night club was completely foreign territory having never been inside one in my entire life, but I have always been a fan of “Dirty Dancing” so this was just another opportunity to experience something new and find a little adventure to my line of thinking.

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Surprised by a kiss

Once upon a time I told a guy, as I was in the midst of kissing him, that we was an amazing kisser, the best. Everyone has their own way of kissing, some are better than others, and sometimes you’ll be caught by surprise.

He chuckled. He said, “You’re a good kisser too.” He chuckled again holding something back. Then after a bit of prying, because, as a female, that is my job, he admitted, “I just mirror you.”

It kinda surprised me a little and I don’t know why. I guess I wasn’t really expecting that response. I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t that. He surprised me a lot, actually, in other ways too. I told him he was a lot like the unexpected. He said no one ever told him that before. That surprised me.

Expectations are funny, at times good, and at other times bad, sometimes tragic, often disappointing, occasionally met. How does that saying go? Something like “the higher they climb the harder they fall.” So many applications, but in the context of expectations it’s a cautionary quip. Since it’s hard to argue against enjoying a GOOD surprise I suggest you take inventory of your expectations. Ask yourself whether or not you are more often disappointed or surprised. I feel pretty comfortable guessing that you would prefer the latter.  Here’s the best part, YOU determine what your expectations are. With the right aim it’s a lot easier to hit bulls-eye!

Couldn’t we all use a little more of the unexpected?

Most people, myself included, don’t like pictures of themselves. There can be any number of reasons for this to be true, but my mom once said it’s because we are accustomed to looking at ourselves in a mirror. When we look in a mirror we are seeing a reversed perspective, the way letters appear flipped when reflected; a reflection then being a distorted representation of the original. A photograph is not a reflection and therefore a truer likeness and unfamiliar. A similar thing happens when we hear a recording of our own voice. Sound waves, typically filtered, first, through our bodies, then, into the ear drum, take a more direct path to our ears when coming from an external source making our voices sound unfamiliar. A recording of my voice does sound strange to my ears, and I don’t like photographs of myself because, well, I just don’t.

February 2009 – 155 lbs.
The pic that changed my life.

In February of 2009 a photograph changed my life.
View full article »

Photo credit: Google Images

“93 million miles from the Sun,
people get ready, get ready,
cause here it comes.
It’s a light, a beautiful light,
over the horizon and into our eyes…”
by Jason Mraz

I can remember wanting to experience the thrill of jumping out of an airplane 10,000 feet above the earth’s surface since seeing my first skydive on TV. When exactly that was or how old I happened to be at the time has long since faded from memory but on the day I turned 32 I made the decision that this dream was long overdue to be entered in among the list of my accomplishments. The next day I began doing the research and making the phone calls to secure a venue for this new adventure.

View full article »


That’s not the moon. It’s 5:23 am on Sunday, August 19, 2012, and I have just arrived for my sunrise tandem jump. That spot of light is on the outside of club trailer. I’m the first one here. “Bright” n early and squirrelly as directed by Ann. The eastern sky is only just beginning to show signs of the approaching dawn. It’s a little chilly. Glad I grabbed a hoodie. Mood: antsy. See ya on the flip side or in the words of Hollywood Undead “So if I survive, then I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah I’ll see you tomorrow.”

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