[ Thursday, May 29, 2003 ]
Okay. I just have one thing to say tonight.[ Saturday, May 24, 2003 ]
PMS is the mother of all Bitches.
I've been torn to hell all day. Psychotic, weepy, whiny shit...Just that kind of mood where you can turn to a blubbering mess with one look/ in a heartbeat/ nothing has to be said...but if you have a mean tone....I'm bawling.
I get like this...one week out of every month. And you would think, if I know this...I would make preparations, buy large rolls of duct tape, hire someone to nail my door shut, from the outside. Instead, I just let it hit me full-force & try to deal with the consequences.
Consquences.
I've worried so much today about a particular friend that it's eat me up inside. I don't know if there are early signs of the battered woman syndrome but my god...if you see a bad situation coming right toward you...it would be smart to get out of it while you can. Anyway...I'm forseeing something bad..and I'm trying like hell to talk her into making the right decisions, which I, of course, think is to bail out now. For reasons of privacy & respect...I won't mention the situation or any names but this could get really, really ugly.
And the sad thing is...it could all be prevented if she'd make the right decision.
But I just don't know if she's brave enough.
Today...I was a very, very lucky girl.
Sometimes I wonder...I wish...I could have an omnipotent (maybe that's the right word) view of my life. That way I could pinpoint...maybe if I had changed this or that...what might have happened. I wonder how many near brushes with tragedy we have in our lives everyday...and wander around clueless as to what's just been prevented.
I had that experience today. Normally I would have known nothing about it. But today, shortly after leaving the house, my dad heard a collision on down the road. A truck had wrecked. I had just passed it & slowed down cause it nearly ran me into the ditchline. It couldn't have been just a few seconds later...when it wiped out. Just a few seconds determined my life today. How many times have those few seconds determined my life...and I've never been aware.
My godson graduates kindergarten tomorrow. It is unbelievable to me that he's grown up so quickly. Lisa is beginning to dilate & is having Braxton Hicks contractions. She's due in a little less than a month. But I'm guessing that on or around the 14th we'll be in the delivery room while she throws ice chips at me & cusses her mother.
It is cliche but a woman truly is the most beautiful during pregnancy. I think it has to do with radiance...with life growing right inside you...with carrying two heartbeats & feeding with your blood. I guess it is at times looked over. But a child's connection with his/her mother...that is something remarkable. We share many things during our lifetime...but our mothers are the only people with whom we ever actually share a body...ever sleep inside.
It's beautiful really. I was in the delivery room when Tammy gave birth to Bradley. Changed his first poopy diaper. And yes...had ice chips thrown at me while she cursed & bit her mother. The delivery wasn't bad. It was something to experience...but the aftermath. When Tammy had to stand up & the nurses had to put huge sheets of gauze underneath her to catch the blood--that made me a little swoony. And I think it was the whole idea...of the repurcussions on a woman's body after performing such a miraculous task.
It was one of those moments where someone else's pain was all too real & intense.
There are so many sad, sad things that happen to people... My neighbor has learned that her husband has only weeks to live. About a year ago a tumor was discovered in his brain. He went through chemo & surgery & thought that everything was fine. This year his doctor has discovered a tumor on his spine...and another on his brain.
Weeks. To be told you only have a couple of weeks to spend with your husband/ wife/ father/ mother/ daughter/ lover. I don't really know how one would handle that. I hope I never have to understand how I would handle that.
My father was 38 when he became a widower. It became my dad, me, my brother...clinging to each other in order to survive. My brother is engaged now. And I'm not really sure how I will handle that. It will be, for me, losing part of that little circle we developed years ago. Giving him away...giving him up. Putting his safety...his fragility in someone else's hands. He's about a foot taller than I am...outweighs me...could easily, easily take me in an arm wrestling match. But still, I perceive him as being this fragile little boy, weeping for his mother. Of course I could never tell him that. In the interest of sisterhood...I have to play the wise-ass, older...I'll-always-one-up-you girl when really he has the ability to crush me with so few words.
I realize that I said I was only going to say that PMS was the mother of all Bitches tonight.
But I never really know until I'm done.
& isn't that just how it is...we never really know until we're done.
On so many levels.
Much, much, much love.
Beck.
~ Rebecca 12:22 AM [+] (0) comments
"Depression is the flaw in love. To be creatures who love, we must be creatures who can despair at what we lose..."[ Monday, May 12, 2003 ]
Last night while reading The Noonday Demon that quote hit me so profoundly.
Perhaps it's because I've wanted to spend the last two weeks in bed with my knit jersey sheets pulled over my head. It might be different if I could bawl, break down, slam my fists into the mattress. Instead, I choose avoidance & a dull stare, pathetic attempts at being funny. All those tactics we use to cover up.
Depression...I think, is a term so casually slung around. And I've never ever wanted to admit that sometimes I'm down, blue, depressed whatever. But my God...something inside me has to pick up. Usually, there is a serenity inside me, a contentment that evaporates the negative. It seems like right now I'm struggling to find that contentment. Wondering if it's there. If it's ever really been there. If it has, in some way, left me because I've not deserved, learned from, nurtured it like I should.
I suppose right now I feel like my core emotions are locked inside some little box. And this wise-ass me is wasting her time clawing at the outsides when really, she should be listening for what's within. But this is how I operate. When I don't want to deal, I avoid. I push it back & back & back. I go dancing. I drink beer. I listen to music that doesn't make me think. Real loud. So loud that my inner thoughts are drowned beneath the beat. It's childish I know. In so many ways I am a child. In so many ways I love the fact that there is still that childish aspect in me. I don't make any bones about it. I can & will be whatever it takes to survive.
Self-preservation.
And what is it really, that I try to preserve?
What is it that I fear will be taken from me?
I go through these spells. Every 3-4 months months maybe where I fall right back into thoughts, memories....wanting...him. Every girl has her 'him'. The first boy we love with all of our entirety. The one we imagine making babies with, cooking for, waking up to again & again & never tiring of the five o'clock shadow or the freckles splashed across his shoulders, or the way his eyes turn yellow/red flecked when they catch light at a certain angle. Every girl has her him. We don't even have to say his name. The ones closest to us just know.
I've woke up every morning for the last week thinking about mine. Falling right back into everything I felt. It kills me. But I think, if you're a person who loves with everything you have...with every ounce of who you are or might ever be...the letting go is so damn hard. Right now...it's just like that longing, yearning, rememberance...whatever it is that I'm feeling, is swelling in my throat. I know it's the emergence of a sob. The introduction of feeling. And I wonder... is it really him that I miss? Or is it the possibility of him? What could have been between us? The kind of love that we could have created if we had tried harder/let walls down/given everything/been satisfied/fought for each other/never covered up how we felt. With no other words to explain it, he was the little old man to my little old lady. And in my head, heart, body...for years, I just knew it would end that way, with us sitting on the front porch while he picked his guitar & I hummed along, taking in every chord change, every bend. That might possibly be the image that will torment me... Because I am a girl so afraid of making the wrong decison...of messing up what's meant to be, that I quite often make none. And just let things play out. Hoping that someone stronger, wiser has my life in their hands.
Last night I read a piece in a journal entry. (Thank you, Val.) And it just affected me in the most unimaginable way... And no, I can't do the words justice by paraphrasing. But the part that just absolutely hit me...was this statement about soulmates & how things might not work out...because of all the factors in a relationship. And how that love still exists, but channels. I can remember 2 years ago... a tarot card reading. He always turns up in my cards. Has since I first started having them read along with a blonde-haired, blue eyed man. I remember asking...if those two people could represent someone with dual personalities. I remember asking specifically if this man was my soulmate. I remember being told yes. I remember saying..But everyone has a soulmate & it doesn't necessarily mean they'll end up together. I remember hearing No, it really doesn't honey.
Vulnerable.
I'm so afraid of being vulnerable to someone. Of having their leaving or coming or acceptance or rejection of love...affect my stability. Because of all the things I have around me...the relationships I've built, the small ways I might have connected with someone, the ability to share inside jokes or communicate with only our eyes...that intimacy is the thing I most crave. And the thing I am most appreciative of. If I could disconnect easily, give someone up easily...it might be different. But I am a girl who, when she loves you, will come to bat anytime, anywhere, no questions asked. Loyal. Because I can easily admit...I need people. I need the laughter they bring, the quirks, the character, the conversation, the understanding. Nothing is as beautiful as intimate conversation. The sharing of ideas. That first moment when you look at someone and smile an appreciative smile as if to say..."Yeah, I get you. I really get you." That's the beauty of connection. Because it instantly alleviates all those feelings of being alone in a world that does not understand one single, solitary thing inside your head. Validation. Because all of a sudden, this shroud of invisibility lifts...and you feel like someone might actually see you.
Anyway..so many thoughts & I might actually need to shut up.
But to everyone who has ever in anyway...made me feel visible to the world.
Thank you.
From a little backwoods girl with so much of her life up in the air right now,
Thank you.
Much love.
~ Rebecca 12:19 AM [+] (0) comments
The Monday after a long, long weekend.[ Sunday, May 04, 2003 ]
Fri. night we decided to go out of town. Top down, music up, we hit the parkway. Billie w/ red sunglasses in the back. Sam with a smile up front. My hair everywhere in the driver's seat. Plans to pick up Lisa in Winchester floating around in our heads. After 30 some minutes of driving, wind picked up, the sky turned the black. Just as we put the top up, the mother of all raindrops crashed into the windshield.
Then we ran into the mother of all storms.
I usually don't panic during storms but this is tornado season.
Suddenly there were limbs, leaves, everywhere. I couldn't see 10 feet in front of me & I had slowed down to about 30 on the parkway. We pulled under a bridge. Just as we did, the hail started. Big white gumball drops bouncing all around us. Inside the car we're contemplating excape routes...where we're gonna head the funnel rips through.
There's a crawl space underneath the bridge. I tell Sam & Billie to head for that crawlspace. Sam doesn't think we can make it up the slope. I tell her if a funnel heads toward us, we'll shimmy it. We'll matrix our asses up that slope. Sam gets nervous. Her belly rolls. Sprinkled inside this fear & planning are random bursts of laughter. We can't help it. We're scared. Embarassed that we're scared.
Sam turns the radio on to listen to the weather. To see if there are tornado warnings for the area we're in. No weather. On any station. Sam turns it to a country station. I panic. I tell her to turn it. If this is the last song we're gonna listen to before we die...I don't want to have Brooks & Dunn in my head while I'm strolling to the Pearly Gate.
We got to listen to other songs.
Picked up Lisa on the parkway. (After doing a U-y since she refused to cross the median while the hail beat down. LOL)
Get to our destination. Get dolled up. Head out to Chances, a little lounge in the middle of nowhere. 15 cars parked in the lot. Not a happening spot, we presume. Anyway, we chat up the bouncer. The owner comes out to greet us. Big, Rick James looking guy & from that point on, everytime I step, I'm moving to the beat of Supah Freak inside my head. Anyway, I felt like a VIP walking in. I didn't feel like it when we walked out. But we were hell bent on shaking our asses & nobody was dancing or even ticking their shoulders.
Fast-forward to Cooter Browns. The band was incredible. When it comes to stage presence....audience interaction...it was the best band I've seen in a while. The lead singer looked familiar. I realize we used to hang out with him back in the day. 1996-97. He was the guy known for his tumor which was definitely NOT A TUMOR. Around the table we hash this idea out. Sam's convinced it just isn't the same guy. I'm convinced it definitely is. Especially when he starts dancing on stage, turning around twitching his ass, then jumps up on a table & sings. I remember one night dancing in his house. Twelve--fifteen people, including me, Bill, Sam, Andrea...backing that ass up in his living room.
So Billie & I danced, took in the atmosphere, acted like nuts out on the dancefloor because it is so fun to do a Saturday Night Fever while slightly tipsy. Especially when you don't know many people in the room & don't have to see most of them again.
And then this man onstage starts playing the sax. My head absolutely turned. And it wasn't just the arrival of the instrument..it was the passion with which he played & performed. There is an extreme difference in someone who playes music, who feels it & someone who is music. This man was absolute music. I wanted to tell him that inside the bar, during the break. But there was a crowd around him & I didn't want to repeat the Steve Azar deal, when I should have kept my drunk mouth shut.
Anyway, last song of the night. Incredible to say the least...So we head out. In the parking lot, Lisa (our dd for the evening) & Sam put the top down. We hear something break. I remember that we've stashed some of our stuff in the back cubbyhole to make more room. We put the top up. Pieces of my broken windshield start falling. I crawl in the back, have my moment & cry just a little bit. Sam & I sit in the back on the trip to the Waffle House. Heads hanging out the back of the non-existant window.
Outside the Waffle House we survey the damage. Realize that when we're 70, wearing our moo-moo's & depends, we'll be able to look back and just crack up, recalling the night we shattered some glass. Of course, by then the story will have changed. It wasn't an accident. "There were five of 'em. Jumped us. Blondes. All at once. They were coming from every direction. Charging out of the shadows. We didn't know what to do. Billie started doing that tai-bo shit & I picked up the pop bottle. You couldn't see nothing but blonde hair, glass & blood." Lol. Yeah, the story will definitely get better over time.
But, one good thing from the evening aside from experiencing life & all the crazy things it throws at you, while Sam & I were checking out the glass, the sax player came across the parking lot. Darren Dixon, who heads up The Dixon Line & performs acoustic duos with other musicians. So I got to tell him that he just made my night & how beautifully he played. That tickled me. Because really, you can clap your hands, yell louder than anyone in the building at the end of the song. But sometimes, that quiet appreciation & head nod go unnoticed. Someone can play, onstage, for hours, move you to a place that you haven't been in years, make you regress back to the three year old girl who jumped up & down on the porch yelling MUSIC, MUSIC, MUSIC while your uncle played the guitar. And won't know any of this...unless you get the opportunity to tell it. To say...you were absolute beauty on that stage.
So, I'm going to take in some future shows, do my best to spread the word.
I have about four pages left of this story.
I won't type it out. Just believe that it's hilarious. At 3 in the morning we bought duct tape & plastic from Wal-Mart, spent a good portion of time trying to tape up the window. Left out the next morning, ran into more storms. Billie & I held the plastic down on the outside (drenched from head to toe) while Lisa & Sam sat on the inside, helping hold it together & mopping up water with a sheet.
We finally made it back. A tarp is now on ole Licorice. & I can't recall any of these images...without smiling. Because these are things that make life rich & full. And connect four girls whose lives are woven together so intricately.
Much love to all.
~ Rebecca 11:20 AM [+] (0) comments
101s force me to think.
Even when my body wants to run.
1. Little girl insides.
2. All it took was for him to love me.
3. I could have let loose.
4. Chiseled brick & mortar until my fingers were raw.
5. It's easy not to remember when I'm removed from the situation.
6. I'm in love with Cherry Garcia.
7. At some point in my life,
8. I'll be in love with everything created.
9. I have wandering fascinations.
10. One year ago, I wanted to form a secret clan of shirt ninjas.
11. Today I tore medical tape into long strands.
12. Hung 27 strands on the visor mobile fashion.
13. It was senseless but
14. It tickled me endlessly.
15. I then listened to Rehab.
16. And hummed the Mission Impossible theme.
17. I have trouble sleeping at night.
18. I'm exhausted during the early part of the day.
19. In the evenings I create paintings inside my head knowing
20. That they'll never make it to canvas or wood
21. Or glass because I'm thinking about doing some
22. Folk Art style plates.
23. That's terribly interesting, I know.
24. But my mind piddles endlessly.
25. Right now...it is obsessed with old furniture &
26. Paints & the perfect kitchen hutch & delicate little petals.
27. I compare Law & Order to real life.
28. I am in love with Johnny Knoxville's abdomen.
29. I wanted to marry Ricky or John Mingua.
30. Simply because the Mingua Brothers make the most kick ass beef jerky.
31. I'm into marriage for the right reasons.
32. The first single young antiques dealer I meet,
33. I'm marrying.
34. If he makes willow furniture, that's a big plus.
35. I might even have his babies.
36. I seem a little depressed.
37. I feel a little depressed.
38. I am a little depressed.
39. Several people have mentioned it.
40. That I'm not my usual self.
41. I hate to say that I'm down. It's
42. The absolute worst thing to admit.
43. Ok. So maybe I'm not depressed.
44. Maybe it's that I feel sort of
45. Invisible.
46. Logically, I can see where it all comes from.
47. I know why I'm feeling like that.
48. But it's hard to shake the feeling.
49. It's funny how, talking to kids everyday.
50. Being a part of their lives, makes one feel
51. Worthy.
52. Important.
53. Or maybe just needed.
54. I've always felt needed.
55. And now...I just kind of feel
56. Like I exist...but in no profound way.
57. Sometimes I hate hearing myself talk.
58. It more that I aggravate myself.
59. And I'm terrified of being the girl noone wants around.
60. But are too afraid to tell her.
61. I would hope that someone would tell me.
62. That's pretty pathetic but
63. I need validation.
64. I need someone to need me.
65. I can't wait until the first mud fight of the year.
66. I'm rambling now.
67. But I haven't been in a good knock down drag out in a while.
68. And the feel of mud between my toes & in my hair
69. Is exquisite.
70. Until it dries &
71. Then I'm left with drab dreadlocks.
72 & a dirty face.
73. I'm loving mushroom hunting this year.
74. I've been going on weekly excursions with dad.
75. It sometimes makes me feel like a little kid again.
76. Other times, I try to take in everything he says or does.
77. I enjoy his humor.
78. The way he can make me laugh with just an expression.
79. The way our eyes communicate inside jokes.
80. Many people have told me my eyes are never silent.
81. I think that maybe we have so many stories
82. Wrapped up in our bodies
83. Handed down from generation to generation,
84. That our bodies involuntarily
85. Tell them.
86. When we think no one's looking.
87. So many good things are happening for me right now.
88. I sold my first painting.
89. My first on-canvas-meant-something-to-me painting.
90. The Little Shop on the Corner, a dream for 6 + years, has come to fruition.
91. Word is out that I'm looking for local artists.
92. Business is picking up.
93. But still there's this sense of dread.
94. I'm wrestling with my spirituality.
95. Issues of faith.
96. I'm feeling a little lost.
97. I need to sort this out.
98. But now I'm choosing to run.
99. To live in the moment.
100. To push everything back.
101. Until I can't hold anymore.
We'll see what happens then.
Beck.
~ Rebecca 11:45 PM [+] (0) comments
