One of The Funniest Moments of My Life

I was telling my sons this story in the car tonight, and it occurred to me that it might make a funny entry on my blog, here goes:

After I graduated High School, I went to Performing Arts School. This was a very big deal in the 80's because "Fame" was so popular. I even went out and bought "leg warmers". I was a pretty shy person and definitely did not have enough self-esteem to get through such a program...I was nervous as hell, and the competition there was mighty fierce. Luckily I made a few friends. One was my roommate, her name was Lisa too, so we were LB and LM, for short. Another friend and classmate was "Joe" from Texas. He drove a Duke's of Hazard car, chewed tobacco, and was funnier than hell. LM was in love with him, so she took every opportunity she could to spend time with him. Joe was very laid back, a total "good ol' boy", he had a mullet and everything. One day LM and I took a trip to the grocery and Joe came with us. Oh, Joe smoked a lot of weed too...so this makes the story even funnier. The three of us were standing in line with our groceries, ready to check out and Joe takes his hands out of his jacket pocket and presents a piece of cotton. (like a cotton ball) He says to me and LM, "watch this" and he sticks the cotton into his right nostril. LM and I are trying desperately not to laugh at him, he shushed us and kept a total straight face. DEAD SERIOUS. We placed our groceries onto the conveyor and Joe steps up to the cashier with this piece of cotton hanging out of his nose and while looking at the lady, he blows (exhales) through his nose and the cotton piece went flying and landed amongst the groceries she had just scanned. LM and I were dying, we could not control ourselves and we collapsed into laughter. Joe did not laugh, he kept a total straight face. He looked into the eyes of the very confused cashier, shook his head and said "will you look at that". He reached over, picked up the cotton ball and stuck it right back into his nose. If at all possible, LM and I became more hysterical than before, we literally fell on the floor laughing. Everyone in the aisles on either side of us were standing on their tiptoes to see what was going on. LM and I continued laughing as Joe picked up the groceries and walked out of the store without as much as a smile and a piece of cotton stuck up his nose.

God, that still makes me laugh.

You Get What You Get When You Need It

If you don't believe in God, I hope you believe in something. To me, God and The Universe are one in the same, it just seems corny to refer to "the universe" all the time, and yet I'm not really religious, so to say "God" is also not in my comfort zone. When I refer to God, I am talking about the "all knowing and all loving", not the old man that sits on a throne and condemns people to hell.

So much for my disclaimer, here is my actual post:

I have gone through phases all my life, and each phase I am always asking God, "why am I going through this? Can't you just fix this and let me be happy? I need money, I need a relationship, I need (fill in the blank)" The truth is, God knows what you need in any given moment, and its not always the thing you think you need. As humans, we see things sort of one dimensionally...our perspective is skewed to believe that money is the answer, sex is the answer, a new car is the answer, a great career...etc...BUT (and its a big but!) God knows what you need RIGHT now. Here are my examples:

When I was 23, I was diagnosed with cancer. At the time I was smoking and taking birth control...a deadly combination. I was so angry that I would be stricken with such a horrible disease when I had just gotten married and wanted to start a life with my new husband. God knew that I needed to learn about the importance of my health. THAT was more important.

When I was 30, my husband was critically ill, we had one child already and we were poverty stricken because of his condition. I found out I was pregnant, and we had no idea how we were going to afford another child. I had the baby and we struggled financially for years afterward. My husband died 2 years later, and if it were not for my second child, my first born would be terribly lonely as an only child. He and his brother are best friends, and my younger son is my anchor. He is a precious individual, and he shows me unconditional love everyday. He was a gift. He was what we needed, and God knew that.

For the past two years I have been struggling in a relationship with someone I care about deeply. It has been weighing on my conscience, but I kept tossing the problem into the back seat and kept focusing on money and my freelance work at home projects. I kept asking God, "why can't I make more money, I am struggling, please help me make money!" my doorbell rang. It was my friend, paying me a surprise visit. I was shaken for a moment...why is he here? I don't need this right now, I have too much to deal with! Wrong. I did need to deal with it. It took a few days, But I was finally able to talk to my dear friend and relieve myself from the burden of guilt. I asked his forgiveness, and he told me there was nothing to forgive. I was worrying needlessly. I needed to hear that from him. I needed to speak my mind. God knew what I needed, and he brought me the solution.

I could go on and on with examples of my life experiences, and why things don't always turn out the way we think they should...and it's because as humans, we can't and won't see all the answers. Sometimes we just have to trust that there is a higher power than ourselves. That higher power is looking out for you. If you don't believe and you keep fighting the circumstances of your life instead of seeing the gifts...that's when you suffer. That is hell my friends. Stop living in hell and look at each "problem" as a potential gift. What can you possibly learn from cancer? How about an opportunity to have better health? Learn from poverty, learn from death, learn from accidents...open your heart and your mind to possibility that someone bigger than you loves you very much. More than you will ever know.

A Philosophical Question

If I sing karaoke in my livingroom and there is no one around to hear it, am I really singing?

Sunday is family karaoke night at our local pub. But today is Easter. I called ahead to ask if karaoke was still going on, and they said yes, 7 o'clock. I showed up with my entire family and there was NO karaoke. My bottom lip protruded and I pouted a bit. I have these bursts of energy where I have to sing or do SOMETHING creative. You don't want to be around when all I do is work for weeks or months on end with no creative outlet. I become this very strange, quirky, twitchy person. I was really looking forward to karaoke night with my family. My Mom is so sweet, she came to my house and listened to me sing "Me and Bobby McGee" in my livingroom. So, my opening statement was not exactly true...my Mom heard me sing.

For the past six months it has been a challenge to keep consistent with my creative outlets. My friend's karaoke business has been rocky, and recently he was fired from his regular location, so I have had to find a new place to sing, and that is difficult to do with the kids. My Grey's Anatomy show has been off the air due to the writer's strike (that is my cathartic outlet) and the band my friend Mark & I keep trying to organize will not commit to actual practices. Grrr. So I have mostly been working the past 5 months with very little artistic expression.

I think I mentioned in another post that I have a Supergirl complex. I want it all. I want to do it all. I want to make money, run a business, be creative & artistic, and then on top of all that, I want to look HOT! hahahahahahaha...ok, that was really funny. *wiping away tears of laughter* My mind literally does not stop coming up with ideas. I admittedly lack focus. There is also an aspect of procrastination there I suppose, but the truth is, I keep jumping around from idea to idea...not knowing where to really stop and work on one project. I have this fear of wasting my life. When I am on stage singing... and the people in the audience stop what they are doing to listen to me sing, that is when I feel truly accomplished. That's when I know that I am doing what I was meant to do. I miss the stage, I miss it terribly.

Holy Crap, I haven't written for over a week...

My apologies. This week has been kind of strange and challenging. I love that I can say that now instead of "I had a bad week". It wasn't bad, it was challenging. I was thrown a few hurdles and I totally found a way around all of them. Some of them were emotional hurdles too, so its not like I just stubbed my toe or something like that. Mostly I discovered that I am a fully functional human being, capable of seeing different perspectives and problem solving. Being flexible also helps. You never know when a curveball is gonna come your way.

It cracks me up when people say "Why me? Why did I deserve this?" and the answer is..."Why NOT you". Daisies and butterflies get boring and if your life was perfect and wonderful, the fact of the matter is you would be BORED out of your mind. Humans CREATE challenges so they have something to occupy their time, and also so they can move their way up the food chain. OK, so you did not ask for a broken leg, or a car accident, or a bucket of paint to spill onto your hardwood floor...but these are life's opportunities to help you think OUTSIDE of the box. If your answer is to get mad, pout and cry for 10 days, then you have just wasted 10 days of your life. If you focus on the issue, get to work then maybe the next challenge won't be so difficult.

I still get mad. But nowadays I have "mini-meltdowns" instead of weeks and months of agony and resentment. My melt-down might last 24 hours if something is really disappointing. Then I just kinda look up and say, "help me understand, so I can get through this," and its amazing what calm comes over me, and then the plan starts to unfold before my eyes. As mentioned in other posts, I see my life as magical. Even the bad parts.

I'm In Love With My Blog

Well, sort of anyways. I miss it when I can't write like a narcissist. I haven't written in my book for about 2 weeks, but I have been healing some pretty major components in my life (see Cathartic Pizza below). I think about Bobby a lot. I was really pissed at him when he was here, but I know in my heart he was the best of almost any man I have ever met. He had problems, and I think when he met me, he thought maybe I could help him be the man he knew he was in his heart. He was that man for several years. We had fun together, we were best friends. But we were also children. Our self-esteem was not strong enough to sustain us through a marriage, or any other challenges that came our way. Little by little we fell apart. We clung to...well, I don't know what we clung to...but it was painful for a long time.

Bobby was charmingly funny. I got sick of his stories, but everyone he told them to laughed and laughed. I do miss his laugh, and so many other things about him. I haven't allowed myself to miss him. I think my angry side said "good riddance" for so many years and that has made me afraid to enter any other kind of relationship that would make me the least bit vulnerable. Cooking Italian meals with the kids has totally opened up that part of me that remembers how much I loved Bobby. That sweet Italian kid from New Jersey. I have always felt him watching over us, all these years. I feel him pulling Dante toward cooking. I feel him helping me pay the bills. idk. It's hard to explain, but I have always felt his presence.

I remember the night we were talking about maybe getting married. He didn't want to, and I was making arguments toward getting hitched. We were burning a candle and blew it out while we were talking. Moments passed and we were drifting off to sleep. Suddenly a huge light filled our room, it was as if a UFO had landed...we both bolted up-right and looked over at where the light was coming from...it was the candle. It had re-lit itsself. We decided it was a sign and we had better get married. That's how our life began together, and that's pretty much the way it ended too. Bobby knew I believed in...well, magic. So he knows he can contact me from wherever he is...and he does...quite often.

Cathartic Pizza

On Friday, December 10, 1999 my husband made some pizza dough and baked 3 pizzas. On December 11, he took some pizza to his parents house and took the kids down with him for a visit. He froze the other two pizzas. When he came home with the kids, my oldest son was very ill, he had a high temperature and was almost listless. I took him to the doctor on Sunday and brought back some anti-biotics, he started feeling better, but my second son fell ill. On Monday I took my baby to the doctor, his temp was 105. The doc gave me anti-biotics, and within a few hours he started feeling better. When I drove home from the doctor's office, I found my husband on the couch. "I can't move" he said. He had the same thing. "C'mon, let's go to the doctor," I told him, "the kids got anti-biotics and they are already better". He told me, "just let me sleep, I'll go when I wake up". He slept for 24 hours, and when he woke it was too late. We rushed him to the hospital, but the doctors could not save him. He died at 11:30pm, Wednesday, December 15, 1999. There were two frozen pizzas in our freezer.

Those pizzas stayed in the freezer for months. I did not have the heart to eat them, although on some level I feel Bobby made the pizzas knowing he would not be here, and it was sort of like his legacy. If that doesn't make sense, I apologize. It does make sense to me.

I have never attempted to make pizza. Bobby came from an Italian family and pizza was their forte. I never felt I could own up to that, so I never tried. My oldest son now wants to be a chef. Yesterday, I felt brave, so we went to the grocery and bought pizza dough and all the fixings. The three of us made homemade pizza. It was delicious. It was symbolically delicious. It is now 2008. It took me over 8 years to make a pizza, but I finally did it, and we ate heartily in Bobby's honor.

Gaaah! This week has been intense!

This week my friend asked me to write as many articles as I could come up with for his online magazine, my chiropractor asked me to write some informational cards, and I went on a job interview for a position as a photographer's assistant. ALL GOOD! I am SUPER happy with this work! I have just never written so much in my LIFE! hahaha! To me, this is what it is all about, I love freelancing. It's like a writer's rollercoaster. You feel sick and exhilarated at the same time. The only downside (and its not even really a downside) is that I have not had time to write in my book all week. It's all good, because I am totally taking that writing project in stride. It is a healing for me as well as a writing project. When the time comes for me to write about my husband's death, it is going to be very difficult. I guess I am "gearing up" for that, and I shouldn't. Part of my healing process is just taking each day as it comes, I guess, like an alcoholic. In the past I have always been such a negative person, sad sap, woe-is-me...and I've come to realize that is a HORRIBLE way to live. I don't live like a super happy chipmunk either...I just sort of make myself pliable, like water. I go with whatever. Somethings make me mad or nervous or scared, but I learn to recover quickly and just see where that event takes me next. I am usually pleasantly surprised.

I am anxious to get back to my book, but I am more happy that I am getting paid to write and be creative.

I Don't Know How to Juggle, but I Fake It

When I close my eyes and I envision myself, I see a juggler who has many balls in the air. The balls in my life have labels. Mother, Artist, Daughter, Sister, Mentor, Girlfriend, Bread-winner, Student, Employee, Friend, Animal Enthusiast, Comedian, Woman, Teacher, Maid. Some days I have 3 balls in the air, some days I have 5 in the air, some days I have so many I can't count...some days I drop all of them and say F*k it. The problem with the latter is that people get very disappointed in you. Your phone starts ringing, you get nasty IM's...but the cool part is, you find out who your REAL friends are.

Let me put it this way. I try really hard, and I work really hard to be all the things I want to be and to show everyone they can be that too. But some days you flunk out a little...you have a moment...you have a trial that only you can handle, and for 24 hours you are coping with an issue that is just between you and God. Only your true friends understand that.

I am at a time in my life where I understand what it means to play ball, and if the person on the other end doesn't play ball back...then you just kinda wait for another player who will play with you. It seems silly to sit and expect the other person to understand you, when they JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND you. Why sit there and try to explain the heck out of it? It is literally a losing battle. My sister and I learned this many years ago. We never really understood each other. So we had this sort of "pretend"hate or resentment while we were growing up, but as years passed and we came to be more accepting, we realized...we are just PEOPLE trying to figure out what our life is about. There is NO REASON to hate, just say..."I don't understand you right now" and allow that space to be there for awhile.

At this time I'd just like to say that my sister is really excellent human being. She works really hard and she loves even harder.

Back to my juggling analogy. Here are the balls I drop quite often. Girlfriend. Bread-winner. Student. Woman. Maid. My apologies go out to then people who have to accept me under those conditions. I am working on it.