Music without Lyrics

Listening to any music with lyrics has been nearly impossible the lately. Either the lyrics are sad and I don't want to hear it, or the lyrics are happy and I want to throw things.

So, I've been listening to what I believe is called Electronica.  One of my favorite artists is Deadmau5 (pronounced Dead Mouse). I've also been enjoying Tiesto, Fukkk Offf, and Boys Noize.

This is one of my favorites. It's not for everyone, but I hope you'll give it a listen. It's great distraction music. I like to have it play while I'm working, writing and driving. It's been rumored to be good background music for homework.

Do Nothing Weekend

From time to time everyone needs a do nothing weekend.

I have a love/hate relationship with video games. I think they can be fun. Lots of fun. And addicting. I'm not very good at them. I'm really competitive and hate not being very good. I don't have time to sit around playing games long enough to get good at them. Thus the love/hate relationship. I hate not being good enough to win, I don't have time to get better and therefore, I don't play. That's logical, right?

My other issue with video games comes from people in my past playing them to the exclusion of those around them. Video games, like any other form of entertainment, should only be done when everything else is done. Chores, homework, family time...those things should all come first.

That history being briefly explained, I recently had a bad deja vu experience where I judged someone rather unfairly. Instead of opening up, I resorted to old coping mechanisms. I've come to realize this was wrong and really all on me and although I apologized, I still feel badly about it.  Sometimes emotional growth is painfully slow. I was wrong and I'm sorry.

Anyway, my kids have been asking for a gaming system for a long time and I've consistently put them off.  I just really didn't want another one in the house. It's been a long time since we've had one and I wasn't anxious to have it back. Then I realized the system itself wasn't evil and I was being unfair in not trusting our ability (as a family) to use it responsibly.

I wrote earlier of this game my coworker's been very excited about. Since I know the history behind it through the books, I went ahead and got the game for my family. It's definitely not for my younger kids, but on this "do nothing" weekend, my son and I have been having loads of fun playing the game. I'm still not very good, but I've come to realize I don't have to be that good to have fun if I'm playing with the right people.

And...proving responsibility...it's now turned off and we're finishing up some chores to get ready for the week ahead.

Hope you're having a great weekend, if not with those you love, then at least doing something relaxing that you enjoy.  Cheers!

Walking Lines (Vulnerability, part 2)

As I posted earlier, I'd like to think I'm pretty strong and independent. However, one day, in a particularly vulnerable moment, I was sitting by myself at a restaurant. I had just left the kids with my ex for an extended visit. Happy chatter from other patrons bounced around me while I sat at my table with three empty seats, when I got a text message. As I read it I felt like I’d been sucker punched. I couldn’t eat another bite and felt like I was going to vomit. I immediately dropped a $20 on the table and left.  Logically I knew I was being crazy, but that didn't change the empty, sick void that persisted.

I knew it wasn't their fault. They hadn't done anything. They weren't conspiring behind my back, but at that moment, I had felt so betrayed to know that my closest friends were off having fun, together, without me. At that moment, I had never felt so incredibly alone.  I was totally shaken.

Several years ago, there was a group of “us”, five couples who did everything together. I don’t know who changed, but we drifted away from one of the girls. She was headed in a different direction than everyone else.  We all had drinks one night and tried to talk about it. She just didn’t see things the same way we did. Gradually, we just stopped inviting her to events. Our husbands were still friends, but we didn’t invite them to couples activities. Before long, we just stopped contact all together.

(I’m only fringe friends with one of the four now. The rest, I don’t even know exactly where they are. I hope I didn’t make her feel like I did that day.  If I did, I’m really sorry.)

A reader, Jennifer, commented the other day that you don’t realize what you’ve given up until the relationship is over. It’s true. I really hadn’t realized how many walls I’d built up over the last decade until they started to crumble down and I was left exposed, like a crab without a shell.

I was not, am still not, equipped with the skills to cope with the new emotional connections I’ve made with people. Having been a self-sustaining island keen on maintaining the superficial during the last several years of my marriage, I was blown over by the revelation that I had developed such strong emotional attachments, and in such a short time.

I found myself in a position reminiscent of my teen years, not worried about my popularity, but wondering if the friendships I was developing were one sided. Wondering what kind of life my friends were having without me. Viciously hating the responsibility that drug me away.

Do they miss me? Do they even think about me? Is it stalkerish to think about them as often as I do? To wonder what they’re doing now? Not in an obsessive sort of way, but in an I’m genuinely interested in what they’re doing, how they are feeling, sort of way. Are they happy? Are they sad? How are they really reacting when I send them a link to something I found funny? Do they actually ignore my Facebook posts? Or just refuse to comment on them? When I send a text are they anxious to see what I have to say? Or do they wonder why I’m bugging them again?

I know a lot of people, between work, church, and school. Knowing people however is not the same as being acquaintances and being acquaintances is not the same as being friends with them. 


It is not the same as having an emotional connection with people. I have friendships that I can walk away from for weeks or months and come back and pick them up the same as always.  We catch up, we laugh, we share a meal. The difference is the degree of my emotional attachment. 


The question that remains in my mind is if my friends need me as much as I need them.

I feel weak and stupid for even wondering.

Damsel in Distress (Vulnerability, part 1)

I'm feeling a bit snarky. Even a person with the most simple needs, is complicated. I admit that. I often don’t even understand myself. There are subjects in which I contradict myself. I believe this is one of them.


Early in my youth, my childhood was very normal for the time period. My mom was stay at home mom while my father worked. She made all of our meals from scratch, hung our clothes out to dry to save money on electricity, helped us with our homework, read books to us at night, baked cookies, and grew a garden. Later in life, my father was injured and my mother took "what she knew" and became a housekeeper to support our family. After he recovered, they both continued to work together in the business my mom established.


Through this I learned perseverance, responsibility and independence. I remember a critical point when I was about seven when I realized that tears were a weakness and using them would not change things or get me what I wanted. I've hated to cry ever since. Emotions left you vulnerable. It was much safer to suppress them and not have to rely on anyone.


I had always wanted to keep up with the boys, but I began down a road of striving to be as good as them if not better.  I prided myself on my ability to throw the football as well as they could, to chase down a pop fly, to glory in my scabs and bruises and how I got them.


I think there are a lot of women out there like me.  We don't need a man. We possibly know more about our cars than you do, can change our own oil and a flat tire. We can balance our check book.  We'll work multiple jobs if that's what needs to be done to make ends meet. We don't mind traveling alone. We're perfectly capable of setting up a tent, starting a fire and aren't scared of things that go bump in the night. We can mow the lawn, wield an ax, fix a broken pipe, handle killing small rodents and even take out the trash.  I'm proud of being a strong woman. I wouldn't want to be co-dependent. However…


No one told me going down this road was going to completely backfire on me.


No one told me that men flock to the damsel in distress vibe like sharks react to blood.


Just because I don't  need a man, doesn't mean I don't need a Man. I'm not talking about sexually, because there are solutions for that…lots of them. Those of us that are strong and independent need emotional support. Even if we have trouble admitting it. 


We're dying inside.


Worse, we'll justify with ourselves that we're fine.  We're always fine.


I read that when people drown they don't actually flail around screaming and calling for help like they portray in the movies. It's actually when they're quiet and still that they're probably drowning. How To Identify Drowning (Fascinating article; check it out if you spend much time around water.)


I guess, bottom line what I'm saying is, before you go play hero to rescue that whiny bitch needy damsel flailing around looking for attention calling for help with her Facebook posts or tweets, better make sure your own people aren't drowning.

Guys..I'd really like YOUR feedback on this. 

Change is Inevitable

My ex commented the other day that I’d changed. He said it like it was a bad thing. 

I do see some changes, but mostly I see me. The me that was suppressed. Not that he was oppressive in that way. He didn’t control what I wore or who I was friends with, but there were certain expectations to our life and I never wandered much outside of them.  In addition, he wasn’t particularly supportive of my dreams or ideas.  (I’m still pretty timid in sharing a lot of things about me because of that. I didn’t start writing again, for example, until a couple months before we separated.)  Mostly, it was just the crushing weight of unbalanced responsibility that kills the spirit.

All those years we were together he never really knew me. He says I’m a cold, heartless bitch. I call it determined, focused, and steady. Being determined to do the right thing, to not give into emotional weakness, does not a bitch make.

Whether we want to admit it or not, our past relationships influence our present ones. We may even deliberately refuse to compare our new interest with our past interests. In spite of our best efforts, however, we’re going to. We're going to make sure that old feelings of inadequacy aren't dredged up. We're going to be cautious against traveling down the same road of acceptance. We're going to find it hard not to expect result B from action A.

I don't want to go down an old path. I desperately want to know and be known. I want to find that person who’ll take the time to know me better than I know myself. I still feel lost and I want to be found. Call me morbid, but sometimes I wonder who would speak at my services if I passed away. Who really knows me well enough to? What would they say?

I read once, “You learn to like someone when you find out what makes them laugh, but you can never love someone until you find out what makes them cry.” I remember lonely nights when the tears fell silently, the reason I was crying a scant eighteen inches away, oblivious to my hurt. I want someone to know what makes me cry. I never want to feel like I have to censor my emotions. Equally important, I want to know that person in return.

Blake Shelton sings a beautiful song called, “Who Are You When I’m Not Looking?”

Do you pour a little something on the rocks?

Slide down the hallway in your socks?

When you undress, do you leave a path?

Then sink to your nose in a bubble bath?

Do you break things when you get mad?

Eat a box of chocolates cause you’re feeling bad?

Do you paint your toes cause you bite your nails?

Call up momma when all else all fails?

I don’t want to be Kim Kardashian or Paris Hilton and you’re never going to see me try out for reality TV show, but just for fun, I’ll share a couple things I do when no one is looking:

• I drink straight out of the milk carton.
• I belch…not burp, belch. Loudly.
• I cry when I’m drinking alone. (It’s not pretty.)
• I rent movies with music and dancing like the Step Up series and old Doris Day flicks.
• I almost always burn at least one grilled cheese sandwich.

What about you? Who are you when no one is looking?