Sunday, January 24, 2010

whatever bi-ouch.... you're still my aunt

been a long time people, much has happened since i last posted a blog.
ordinarily when i'm in this social hibernation phase, i'm writing. this time i haven't written a thing until now.
what's different?
i don't know.
i still don't feel ready to connect with all my friends and family but i have been living in a cave for so long now i know they are beginning to wonder and worry about me. i'm going to have to do something, i just don't know how soon it will be. i checked my email account tonight for the first time in months, i had/have 157 unread emails. i plugged my phone in to charge when i woke up so i could call my son in Lubbock but once the battery dies again i doubt i'll make any phone calls.
i talk to my husband and my daughter on a daily basis but the only reason i do is because they live with me. i've even been ignoring my dog.
perhaps it's not a social hibernation i'm in ,
perhaps it's just an emotional one,
maybe that's the difference this time.
or maybe the difference is i'm finally able to recognise and distinguish between the two.

recently i engaged in a causal conversation with a female co-worker about books, who we read, what we liked, etc. She told me i was the first person she has ever spoken to that reads JD Robb. we talked for a while about the series of books and in the middle of our conversation a thought popped into my head: " are my scars showing? "
oddly enough when it floated through my mind, we both stopped talking and just stared at each other. it was there hanging in the air but neither wanted to pop that bubble. another place, another time, i would have revealed more but it would have made working together either uncomfortable or too personal. over sharing at work usually is not a good thing.
i'm keeping a safe distance, being casual and light, smile and wave at all the cameras in the sky.
as my grandma use to say "you can look but don't touch"

my sister/aunt popped in and out of the family's consciousness this christmas season. true to her usually form. i keep hoping she will grow and change with age but unfortunately it's not happening. she left us all, moved away over 20 years ago. which is fine, is quite common in some families, my mother, in fact, did the same thing to her family when she was young.

when my sister/aunt and her husband of 20+ years divorced we hoped she would return to Texas but instead she went the other way. She moved to Canada and married my mother's younger brother. it was a shock and an emotional blow especial since she delivered the news on a mother's day weekend but like always, i survived my family.

my sister/aunt has been married to my uncle/brother-in-law for some time now. i should be okay with this. i should have gotten over it and gotten on with my life by now. do the christian thing: forgive and forget?

for christmas this year she mailed me and one of my other two sisters a certified letter detailing all the reasons why she didn't want to be our sister any longer, she stated that basically she was finishing what i started by not accepting her new husband. because we betrayed her by inviting her ex husband/the father of our niece and nephew to share christmas with us all.

all my sisters are divorced, most of my friends are divorced. divorce unfortunately is part of the new modern american household. we learn, we grow, we change, we adapt, we move on. but regardless to whether the parents remain together, we are still linked by the children. the million dollar question is how uncomfortable and miserable do you want the children in your family to be?
was i angry with my ex-brother in laws when they divorced my sisters?
yes, i was, very much so. At the time of each divorce i could have happily clipped off their private parts with common garden tools. thankfully i resisted that impulse.
now even thought i am no longer close with the ex-brother-in-law's, i am comfortable enough to give them a hug and a friendly hello. but more importantly the children/young adults are not overly uncomfortable and can discuss their relationship with their father when ever they need to.

so to my sister/aunt certified letter announcing the disbandment of our sisterhood, i say:
"whatever're still my aunt"
you know, i've been working nights, i missed the postman. i never signed for my copy of her letter. return to sender! my other sister that she disowned was upset enough for the both of us. i refuse to worry myself sick over head games. she is trying to play us against each other just like when we were kids. she has been gone so long, sometimes i think she still see us all as children instead of adults.

my sister/aunt is still repeating behavior patterns that we were raised in. my parents did not raise their children to be friendly and loving towards one another. they raised us in an extremely hostile environment, to not trust, to compete for their beloved parental affection and to be jealous of each other. they used very effective key words and phrases over years to achieve their parental goals and for the most part, it worked.

i use to believe that my father was a master manipulator. that he could literally talk anyone into doing anything. but in truth, he was a weak and pitiful man. the only reason why he effected us so tremendously was because we were too young to defend our mental/emotional/and physical self against him. if we had not been born into his household he never would have been able to dismantle our self esteem, our self confidence, or our self worth and lather our base with shame.

we were strong enough to survive but are we strong enough to repair the damage?

i'd hoped that by now, after over 40 plus years of this behavior patterns, we would some how be able to snap out of it. be our own woman and not fall into the roles our parents designated for us to be. unfortunately instead of growing together we are crumbling further apart.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

this day of mine

today was just another ordinary day?
Just like all those other days that blur into each other to create my life.
today i finished rereading lkh's skin trade, ate a couple meals, washed a few loads of clothes, went to work, came home, kissed my husband, and here i sit
typing about
this day of mine.
i'm not depressed, i'm not upset, i'm not melancholy
but i'm not jolly, cheerful , or merry either.
someplace between the two i guess,
drifted into nothingness,
not caring either way,
no big deal
this simple bland day.
that in itself is an accomplishment of sorts.
august 8,1995,
the day my father died.
the fact that it had no effect on me at all,
is a relief, a blessing, almost a cleansing.
no anger, no tears, no memories hovering just beneath the surface.
partly because i started the day reading, allowing my mind to become completely absorbed into another world.
but when i closed the cover of the book and placed it back on the shelf again everything was okay. everything was as it should be.
my life is not perfect, but it's damn close.
life is good, getting better every day.
and i'm grateful

peace to all

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

i went to a 'diversity and inclusion' training session for work today. my first thoughts were happy ones. free money, pay me to sit and do nothing, instead of listening to all the bitchy people at work. i could handle that.

i never expected to enjoy it as much as i did. it was a mini-crash course in how to positively reinforce and encourage co-workers to help enhance their work production and performance. it was a very simple and basic explanation of how to "work well with others" despite our differences and try to make everyone feel like they are part of the money making team.

who do we include? who do we exclude? and why?
when i was going over the inclusion list in my head i felt comfortable with my check list of people. i was already doing a lot of the things they suggested. but than again it was all very simple, you know, basic human kindness, individual respect, listening...

there is this one guy at work, he drives everyone bonkers, annoys all the other employees constantly. This guy has OCD tattooed on his forehead. But upper management loves him because he has a place and a purpose in the company. he is Mr. Fund raiser. he sells more donation balloons than anyone else in the entire state. In an average 8hr shift he sells 75 to 100 one dollar balloons.

he' s a jabber jaw. he talks and talks and talks some more. he tells all the corny jokes, puns, and oddest story's that seem to never end nor have a point or punch line to them. All the other employees avoid him because they know once he opens his mouth to speak he won't close it till he's driving home.

i've sat with him on occasion in the break room and try to guide the conversation away from the jokes and it always ends up back to the same topic: the children's hospital balloons. in my chats with him i found out that he also volunteers at the children's hospital, again something to do with the balloons, keeps a running tally of all his collected donations, and even sends out little thank you cards to those people who donate over a certain amount in a year. he also shared with me that at his last birthday party (50+) he asked all his guests not to bring gifts but instead to buy donations balloons for the children's hospital. this guy simple eats, drinks, and lives for these donation balloons.

when i learned all this i was amazed and it changed my opinion of him. yes he is still the worlds worst joke and story teller that i have ever listened to, he still has OCD: all bills face this way, everything is total and tally perfectly, same bat station, same bat time...
and i know that his balloon sales are a tool he uses to help keep focused. but what amazed me about him was that he managed to change something that can often be debilitating and turned it around to be a productive way to give back and help mankind. whether it was intentially or not i haven't a clue. my rose colored glasses wants to believe it so.

my step sister was an inspiration to me while i was growing up. she was my ruler that i measured my quality of life by. i could walk, i could talk, i could use my mind and my body. i could grow and i could change and i could make my life better. she could do none of those thing but still confined in her chair with no way to communicate she could feel love. i would sit with her, hold her hand, whisper in her ear, and she would responded to me.

i was young when i first met her, still in grade school. i pictured her mind and spirit as being trapped somewhere between heaven and earth. She was living in this world but still connected to heaven. i use to push her wheel chair, move it back and forth, hold her hands like we were dancing, and singing along to music. she had the biggest brightest smile and her entire face would light up with joy. she was beautiful.

my step-sister was a "Make a child's dream come true" kid. i don't remember all the details exactly. i know she did get her dream, or as much of a dream as she could have in her condition
and a big part of the reason why was because of people just like this goof-ball guy at work constantly collecting money by selling those donation balloons at the grocery checkout.

i'm very empathic. i don't want to bond with him. if i ask, if i know his whole story i will. i can feel it lingering in the air all around him. some days it's so heavy, it sits in his eyes like a tangible touchable entity distancing him from the rest of the world. i can feel enough to know he is beyond my fortune cookie, quick fix approach. my instinct tells me to leave this one alone.
so i do.

Regardless to his reasons why he does what he does,
i'll always be grateful for the efforts of
this goofy guy at work
helping disabled children.

of course, i'm not suppose to label him goofy,
socially challenged maybe?

diversity and inclusions.
live and let live

Saturday, July 11, 2009


my mind it still spinning, it is so late,
perhaps too late.
i keep looking back over my shoulder, wondering if the steps taken where....
see it's late, perhaps too late...
to be worrying and wondering and playing the 'what if' game.
at this time between the sleeping and the wake,
flip the coin dear girl.
roll the dies
play a hand
winner takes all
take a chance
go out on a limb
trust yourself

Sunday, June 28, 2009

tossed salad

imprints and impression of experiences
leaving traces
tracks on our body, mind and spirit,
combinations blending together,
people, places, things,
make up who we are
explain why we are able
to constantly grow and change
throughout our entire life,
it’s a never ending process.
no days are wasted
regardless to our conscious opinion
of how it was

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

her dime, my time

I’m in the middle of a writing project, decided I wasn’t going to give up on it and I’m not. I have postponed and put off for years. If I stop now I will never do the actual work to make the dream happen. This is my goal I set for myself; write every day, even if it is only one line added, or one word edited. I will finish all my stories. So by day I work on my W-2 form and by night and any other time I write. The only person that can make all my dreams come true is me. if I want my life to change I am the only person that can change it. I have to stop listening and wondering and worrying about the thoughts and opinions of others. I have to follow my own light, my own instinct, my own path. I will do this for me. I will do this for the little girl that I use to be, that dreamed about what her life would be like when she grew up. She fought for my life. I will not take a free ride and just float the rest of the way home on her dime.

My training continues.

Monday, May 18, 2009

my pissology 101 class began today.
i was promoted at work and am now official a CSM or customer service manager.
my job description?

i still don't have a clear picture in my head, just like when i started as a lowly cashier, every person involved in your training tells you a different way of doing something.
which of course i hate. just tell me the fuck what i'm suppose to do and i will do it, but don't tell me one way this day and another way on tuesday.

fuck me. i was exhausted by the end of my shift but it was the most unusual and interesting day i have had thus far.

today i stood in an extremely small room, maybe 5' by 5' and listened to six angry women try to sort out their issues of blah blah changes and blah blah quotas not being met. was this a department meeting or a bitch session?
i could see both sides clearly, i know what needs to be done, i'm the peacemaker, it's my job to make happy people where ever i go.

they told me we were equals. we shall soon see.