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A weird month

It’s been about a month since I’ve posted. It’s been a weird month.

Some things have surprised me, like the delightful ease of spending a Sunday in the kitchen in excellent company, listening to music and making recipes from the Seitanic Spellbook. Some things have pissed me off, like still being treated like someone’s dirty secret all these years later. I was disappointed, too, by someone completely obliterating my feelings and not even offering an apology of any kind. I was heartened by friends rallying around me when I’ve needed them.

I broke a finger. I buried my oldest dog. I made vegetarian chili. I cried in front of coworkers. I was both bold and incredibly vulnerable in private. I made plans for the future, and I trashed some other plans.    I forgave some bullshit. I was embarrassed by what some people remember me by after more than a decade. I decided not to be embarrassed by what people will think of me for forthcoming choices.

I made some jewelry. I stood by old friends and new. I believed in possibilities, and I took some chances. I let someone else drive more than once. I threw myself in a mosh pit.  I spoke some truthy truths, and I also held my tongue when it wasn’t useful to speak up.

I told some bummer stories. I laughed so hard I peed. I channeled some spirits, and I shut down some energy I didn’t want. I wished a friend happy birthday as I’ve done for the last 20 years without a peep of a response from him.

I gave a lot of fucks. Sometimes I gave no fucks at all. I felt a lot rage, and I meditated my way into peace. Sometimes I meditated myself right to sleep.

I remembered some things I’d forgotten. I absolutely gave up on some people, and I absolutely gave myself over to others.

So much in one month. It’s been a weird month, but it’s been a month well-lived. I have reveled in every day. I have read poetry in the bathtub and sent it to others.

Today’s a new moon, and it’s a day to plant the seeds for the month ahead. I plant the intentions of steadfast commitment, joyous love, satisfying work, and an abundance of laughter. I have gratitude for all that has transpired and all that will unfold.

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Words worth saving

I received this list (numbered and everything!) in a text today, and I loved it. I find it a reassuring, comforting description of who I am:
1. Yes you are crazy.
2. You are up front about it
3. Honesty trumps crazy

Thank you for that. I like it.

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I Love You

A dear friend of mine lost three of her family members in a single accident. It’s hard to get my head around this.

I sat my kiddo down when I heard the news. “You know I love you, right?” She nodded and I continued, “Even when I’m a jerk, even when you’re a jerk, I love you every day, all day long, okay?”

…And so this is for all of you: my family, my friends, my friends who are family, my great loves past, present, and future, and even to those from all categories who’ve already left this life. I love you.

I love you on the days we gather to celebrate, and I love you on the days when we gather to mourn. I love you when you’re being an asshole and can’t decide what you want for dinner. I love you when I’m being a jackass and want to eat peanut butter out of the jar.

I love you when I like your posts on Facebook. I still love you when I haven’t been on Facebook for a while. I love you when you remember Halloween is my favorite time of year, and I love you when I tolerate your excitement over snow and eggnog.

I love you when you text me stupid things to make me laugh. I love you when I forget to text you back. I love you when we have adventures. I love you when I’m antisocial and want to be left the hell alone.

I love you even when I haven’t seen you in a long time, even a really long time. I love you when I send you snail mail. I love you when I forget to mail the card.

I love you when you don’t know what to say. I love you every time you say the most perfect thing, and even when you’re eating crow.

I love you for letting me have the apple butter…all the apple butter. I love you for showing up when you say you will. I love you because you don’t get flustered when I want to drive everywhere we go.

I love you for bringing me coffee at work. I love you for your innuendos. I love you for your character. I love you for accepting my weirdness without flinching.

I love you for hugging me even on days when hugs freakin’ creep me out. I love you for knowing when it’s a terrible idea to try to hug me.

I love you for sharing music with me. I love you for sharing books with me. I love you even when your books and music totally suck.

I love you for sharing secrets with me. I love you even though you think I don’t know all your secrets…but I do, and I’m still here.

I love you because we laugh together. I love you because you quote song lyrics and movies right along with me. I love you when we make crafts, food, and messes together.

I love you for taking care of me when I’m too stubborn to ask for help. I love you for letting me take care of you, for letting me buy your coffee sometimes.

I love you when you do stupid things. I love you when you should know better. I love you when I’m rolling my eyes at the dumbest joke I’ve ever heard.

I love you when you achieve your goals. I love you when you fall flat on your face. I love you for encouraging me. I love you for supporting me even when I’ve been an idiot.

I love you when you don’t love yourself. I love you on your bad hair days. I love you on my bad hair days, and there are a lot of those.

Every day. All day. Cliché? Yeah, maybe. You are part of the shiny strands that are woven together to make up the wild and beautiful spider web of my life. Thank you.

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Still a Little Topsy Turvy

Started a new schedule this week, and next week I add my second job layers on top, so I’m just a wee bit discombobulated right now.
Running in circles some of the time, running to stand still other times…it will be sorted out soon enough. Bear with me.

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The Lost Art of the Apology

It’s hard to get a real apology these days. Sometimes you’ll get the backhanded variety, like “I’m sorry your feelings are hurt.” That’s really just as bad as no apology at all.

I used to hate to apologize but decided in most cases, I’d rather be the one to make the move to heal the hurt than walk around wounded or wounding others. An apology can build bridges…sometimes.

Just because you give an apology doesn’t mean it will be accepted. I was a realllllllllllll asshole to someone in college. I was 18 or 19 and had the social finesse of a bulldozer. I was a complete jerk to a very kind person. When I realized later how dreadful I’d been, I tried to apologize, because I never meant to be hurtful. He refused to accept my apology. We are not pals.

Other times, either saying or hearing a heartfelt apology has changed the course of everything for the better. Honest words, no BS, no ego, can soothe, heal. Being genuinely sorry is meaningful. It just seems like in today’s world, folks don’t want to say “sorry;” instead, they just want to be right.

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congrats

someone i know has really turned their life around in the last couple months.  their tough times aren’t quite done, almost, but the accomplishments are many.  i am proud.  you should be, too.

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maybe it was an epiphany

Maybe it was an epiphany. Or maybe I’m just a little slow in figuring things out.

Either way, it hit me while spreading ice melt ’round the parking lots at work on this freakin’ cold morning that maybe one of the reasons I feel no closure on most things is related to my ADD. Not an excuse, just a sudden awareness of how fast the channels flip in my brain, and that I never really mourn or grieve or process much of anything…I’m always on to the next thing, on to the next thing, on to the next thing…until the old thing pops back up again for a minute to sink its teeth in until it stings, then on to the next thing yet again.

When I was younger, I remember doctors thinking I was depressed or whatever because I couldn’t focus, couldn’t keep my thoughts or feelings going down the straight and narrow…when someone finally thought to give me an ADD test, I wasn’t a kid anymore and I sure as heck knew I wasn’t depressed, and it was like ding ding ding, we have a winner—if one can pass an ADD test with flying colors, I did just that very thing. Restless. Disorganized. Trouble listening even when I really, really want to listen. Distracted. Haven’t outgrown it. I can work around it, mostly.

Mostly.

Where it keeps popping up is when the thoughts spin, when I get tired and stressed, and something old and unresolved jumps up, like a horrible Whack A Mole game from hell with no end in sight. It goes like: work, family, work, work, hunger, friends, work, thirsty, fatigue, HEY HERE’S A BUNCH OF UNRESOLVED ANGER/GRIEF/FEAR RIGHT HERE COMIN’ AT YA, work, work, family, NO SERIOUSLY HERE’S SOME MUCK YOU SHOULD REALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLY FEEL RIGHT NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW, friends, work, stress, family, hunger, ARE YOU FEELING THOSE FREAKIN FEELINGS OR WHAT BECAUSE HERE THEY ARE AGAIN.

No resolution, just awareness. Awareness is good.

And here’s John Taylor’s “Feelings Are Good” from the wonderfully named CD “Feelings Are Good and Other Lies.”

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Not So Nice

A friend told me this week that the blogs I publish outside this space are much nicer than the ones here, so this is my gentle public service reminder: World Famous Katbox is my personal blog, not my business blog.  On my personal blog, I’ll talk about whatever’s on my mind, and if we are honest with each other, I doubt even the nicest among us are all rainbows and unicorns 24/7.  Just as often as we are happy or wildly in love, we are disappointed, angry, or all alone.

Posting in the Katbox has kept me sane through divorce and other important breakups.  When one of my friends and I parted ways over an ethical difference, it was this space that allowed me to save myself and not take to the bed for a week.  Sometimes what I have to say is not so nice on this blog, but I always speak my truth, my perspective, not an effort to defame anyone else.

If you cheated on me, hit me, lied to me, lied about me, and/or did my kid wrong, you shouldn’t be surprised to see me vent here.  You knew I was a writer and a blogger, and writers write.  I protect you by never naming real names here, so your guilt and shame are yours to carry around; I never named you specifically, never called you out by name, place, nor the specifics of your wrongdoings.

Some days, Katbox blog posts will be not so nice, and that’s okay, because this is my space.  I invite you to read in case something resonates with you, connects, and we can move forward in this together.

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Seriously

I wish had something nicer to say than “go fuck yourself” but alas, I don’t.  As I sip my coffee, I’m reminded why I dislike so many people.

For one person: Petty nastiness meant to cause a rift or hurt feelings has really just pushed my buttons.  Snarky comments didn’t inspire me to curl up in the fetal position and weep; really, those unsolicited comments kinda make me wanna go trailer park until you’re shitting your own teeth.

For another: if we were gonna be besties, we would be already.  Leave me alone.  Chasing me around after you violated the most sacred of codes is not cool.  I am so forgiving, but there are a few lines that once crossed, there is no return.

I’ll get to zen about all of it with a little time, but this morning, I’m annoyed as hell by the way people think they can go stomping around on the souls of others, inflicting pain, leaving scars.  You don’t have my permission to ruin my day.

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I have to acknowledge this song

It has come up repeatedly on “random” on my iPod in the last 24 hours and also popped up on Pandora…so there’s a message in there for me or for you…

 
“Who do you love when you come undone?”

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