One Dear Heart

In late August, the world lost a treasure and I lost a friend. Because I don’t read the local newspaper and rarely drive the half hour back home, I didn’t know it until late October, and ever since, I’ve been putting off sitting down to say all of this. I wish I could have held her hand one more time, that’s the thing. And although I’ve told her all of this stuff before, I wish I could’ve said it again. Continue reading “One Dear Heart”

Since you asked: yes, I have quite a lot to say.

I’m not very good at keeping my mouth shut. It’s a constant effort and a perpetual self-examination–a check I routinely perform before I open my mouth to offer my opinion. Will what I have to say serve any function beyond making me internally chuckle at my clever turn of phrase or rendering me positively giddy at the idea that somebody (me) finally got that son-of-a-bitch? Is it nice? Is it any of my business? I ask myself these questions, and I’m aware of what I’m doing (and of what I’m about to say) most of the time. On the whole, I try to do the next right thing. I try to be kind in the things I say, especially when I’m talking to someone I care about. Continue reading “Since you asked: yes, I have quite a lot to say.”

I mean, Jesus, I could die.

Lately, it feels a little like “one step forward and two steps back” around here. We stopped smoking a while back, and suddenly my Oreo addiction got way out of hand and we were having Casey’s pizza every weekend, the washing down of which required copious amounts of carbonated beverages. Then, I managed to get that mostly under control, and ended up with an infection that required Kill Your Gut Biome in One Fell Swoop antibiotics, and I’m still trying to recover from that while simultaneously beginning the McDougall program. Thankfully, starches are for the most part easy on the stomach. Continue reading “I mean, Jesus, I could die.”

This road I’m walkin’ on from time to time always leads me home.

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.” ~Terry Pratchett

I try to tell Step-daughter: leaving isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. She’ll be a senior this year, and although I don’t think she plans to go away to college, I know it is nevertheless her intention to get as far away from Illinois as possible after she graduates. I think she believes–as I once did–that happiness isn’t possible here, that there’s nothing so boring and ugly as the prairie, and that there have to be better, nicer, and smarter people in bigger cities elsewhere in the country. Continue reading “This road I’m walkin’ on from time to time always leads me home.”

On drama, solipsism, kindness, and ridiculous dreams

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you. ~Maya Angelou

Back in the day, I had lots of drama to share with my five or so regular readers. It was young person drama to be sure, but I felt like it was my duty to provide it and to entertain those who’d come to be entertained. Granted, I was performing my show for a very small audience, but they were women of uncommon smarts and valor, and I could rely on them to be with me through thick and thin, and to always be ready with a listening ear and an occasional piece of terrific and hard-won wisdom. Continue reading “On drama, solipsism, kindness, and ridiculous dreams”

It doesn’t matter which side of the tracks you’re from, the train still rolls the same.

Aside from that year when I lived in Las Vegas and was quite certain my soul was dying a little more with every day that passed, there have always been trains in my life.  I spent the first 27 years of my life in a town that was literally named for the Illinois Central Railroad and was founded in that spot because it was a point of convergence on the railroad’s two original branches. Continue reading “It doesn’t matter which side of the tracks you’re from, the train still rolls the same.”

There weren’t torrents of rain or a big flood, but it still feels like a whole new world if you cross your eyes and look at it like one of those 3D drawings.

It’s been 40 days and 40 nights since I smoked a cigarette. I needed to tell you that because it’s something I’m pretty proud of, and I’m trying to practice positive reinforcement with myself. Also, there are other willpower-requiring things I’d like to do now that I’m no longer enslaved by nicotine and unable to draw a clean breath. I’d like to give the whole plant-based eating thing another shot, and I’d like to start walking a few days a week. I’m not going to make any resolutions, but I am going to start doing better. It is, after all, that time of year. It’s also about six months until mandatory swimsuit time, and this year I’d like to not scare people. ascent_a3500-brushedstainless_rightglam-620x620

In an undeniable act of solidarity, my husband has decided to do all of this with me, and believe it or not, he’s as excited as I am about using some of the tax return money (that we might one day receive if The Orange Dude ever decides to stop being a baby and reopen the government) to buy a Vitamix so we can make the wonderful cheese looking stuff that all vegans must have in order to survive without wanting to kill people. Continue reading “There weren’t torrents of rain or a big flood, but it still feels like a whole new world if you cross your eyes and look at it like one of those 3D drawings.”