Sunday, November 15, 2015

rest.less.

I mean like wow. That was close.

In the past couple of weeks I've been restless. Uneasy. Ready for change. I'm not sure if going home for my 20 year had anything to do with it. Feeling that feeling of... connection and roots that only a place that you grew up in can offer. Since my sis and sweet niece moved from here to Northern Cali a few months ago, I've been feeling less grounded in Indy. I miss my mom and would do anything to live near her again.  Last week I was this (.) close to saying yes - or at least moving forward with a potential job offer with one of my most favorite heart humans - In Dallas.

It wasn't that long ago that I couldn't board a plane home without a yoga mat, running shoes, and a fresh prescription of Xanax. And now? I didn't even flinch and apparently I must have been really excited about the prospect because after a convo with SpecialK pretty much ruled out our chance of moving back to D-town like EVER, I was crushed. Crushed. I was as surprised as SpeacialK. But I get it, something we've talked about through and through and I get it. I get his hang ups, they are the same ones that I have had for most of my adult life. The ones that produce anxiety and fear and frustration at that beast that is Dallas. A beast I never thought about taming. Instead I packed my bags and literally headed to the other side of the world to get away from it. But that beast holds things in it that are still dear to me, my family, my friends (from life), my mom. Oof, my mom. But he has those things here or at least near by. And even with those things he is still willing to move elsewhere in the name of new opportunity and challenges. But just not there.

So yeah, restless. And sleepless too thanks to the wee little person who has recently started waking up at 5:45 a.m. every morning, ready to party and start her day - and ours. The first 18 months of 9 a.m. wake up calls are sadly over. I'm left with even more hours in my day to think and feel restless. Trying to figure out next step. The next new challenge. A week ago I was mentally preparing for a possible relocation back to Dallas and the week before that I was considering writing a book. The week before that was something else, fleeting I'm sure. But I am open, and so is SpecialK - to an extent.

This week SpecialK travels and I'm left to single parenting which means 5:45 a.m. solo duty. Which means lots of time to consider next steps and continue feeling restless. To reflect and marvel at my unflinching willingness to head back to Dallas and to consider even more about where we could end up in the next year or 2. West coast? East coast? Back oversees? Or just right where we are.
It's exciting and daunting, just enough to make a person rest.less.

S

Sunday, November 8, 2015

Here, someone hold my earrings.

It's 2015 and Donald Trump is not only running for the Republican nomination, but he is CRUSHING the competition. It's not a joke and it's not an SNL skit because SNL only just spoofed it last night because let's face it, they had no choice. Even they thought that Trump would have self destructed before they had to finally pull up their fair and equal britches and bring him on set. It's surreal you guys, surreal and fucking scary. Even if he wasn't running for President of the freaking United States, I would be appalled by his actions as a human being who pays enough money for the spotlight and microphone. He a misogynist pig with a blatant disregard and respect for women and other humans. BLATANT. And people are paying millions to ensure that he's our next President? 


During the past few debates and the days that follow (and let's face, his last 20 years), he is openly shitty towards women and about women and his thoughts on immigration and Latinos is stomach turning and appalling. I would never want my own child to read or hear anyone say any of that about any other human and the fact that he is out there shouting it from the rooftops and as a result is GAINING POPULARITY is un fucking believable. What a shit show. His GOP support is surging because in all honesty, the American people are sick of politics and failed promises. Enter Donald Trump, demonizing brown people who are taking up the low wage jobs and telling the anxious white middle class and lower middle class that he can make this country great again because look how awesome he made himself and we can shove all things PC up our own asses.

His path to the white house has thus far been paved with the carnage of women and minorities, of fellow Republican candidates and Jesus forbid any journalist who challenges his pomp and circumstance. This is a man who wants to cut (way) back on education, Environmental policies, and slash Defense while building up our military. With horror, I listed to him attempt to articulate (in a way that makes the listener doubt their own sanity as they grasp to make sense of the nonsense being spewed on national television) that he is 'gonna build a military that's gonna be much stronger than it is right now. 'It's gonna be so strong, nobody's gonna mess with us.'

I'm constantly baffled by the number of close friends in family who are emerging as 'Texans for Trump'. Texans for Trump. Dammit Texas. Ben Carson I could almost understand. Rubio I could stomach... anyone else. But Him? How do you explain to your children to not listen to what he says on the most basic level about other people. Other races other religions and the opposite sex.

Don't listen to what he says kids. He's a billionaire and he'll make us so rich and so scary that no one in the world will never mess with us again. Nothing bad will ever happen to us again. I know he says women are stupide and ugly and you have to be pretty to be taken seriously. But he's rich. Really really rich.
 
 
Anyone who knows me knows that it doesn't matter who makes the final ticket, I'm not casting my vote for the GOfuckingP. But his influence scares the shit out of me. How tired our nation seems to be that it has lowered it's bar so completely, scares the shit out of me. I need to hear some rational sense behind why he is still here and relevant. Why are people still supporting him? Why do people that I love and respect support him? Just like his inability to truly articulate any kind of solid plan for... anything....I have yet to hear a solid argument to support him. Again, not that that would sway me to the 'Dark Side', but I at least want to stand up to a worthy opponent. An opponent who, if he or she wins, I can assure that while I may or may not agree with their politics, at least they are a decent human.
 
Or at least a fucking human.
It's one year away.
 
S

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Please tell me I will always get to choose her costumes.

 

We weren't sure that we could top our - I mean her - 2014 costume to beat all costumes but low and behold, SpecialK had a vision for 2015, once we came to terms with the wee little person's recent aversion to hats and wigs. So help us, we are already thinking about next year, because you know, 2 1/2 year olds don't have costume opinions yet, right?  #WillieNelson #EllenDegeneres

S

Monday, November 2, 2015

When NPR yanks the skeleton out of your closet, just in time for All Souls Day. Well played NPR, well played.

On Saturday afternoon, SpecialK came through the backdoor, hair in all directions, with a wild almost maniacal look in his eyes (he'd just finished working out but that could still be him on almost any given day), and announced that he'd just finished listening to a half hour segment on NPR's This American Life about my biological grandfather. It hit me smack in the gut. I was grateful in that moment that the wee little person was upstairs taking a nap, ears safe from the mere mention of him. The podcast - Christ on crutches he's been turned into a fucking podcast - would be released on Sunday.

Him. The him that haunted my adolescence and stayed tucked away in a past that wasn't really a past I wanted to claim, especially since the universe made sure that he did not have a hand in our upbringing, nor his own children's (or most of them anyway). But still, the knowledge of him was always there. A book - The Book - written by one of his own sons surfaced (and literally landed on my doorstep anonymously) a few years ago and the almost reverence with which it was written was nauseating. Shocking. So fucked up. I couldn't even finish it and buried it away. In the freezer next to my oldest copy of The Shining. Not really but maybe.

In hind sight I should have burned it in ritualistic fashion when he passed away last year, thank you Universe, prior to the birth of my wee little person. But now, He lives on in audio form. Complete with interviews, conversations... some of his victims, his own sons and co-conspirators... All there for the world to listen to and ponder. Have I listened to it? Jesus no. I'm not sure that I will or that I could even stomach it. Kevin described his voice, the voice of a cancer ridden 80 year old unapologetic evil genius, stress on the evil but dammitall on the genius too. Genius in the inability to function in mainstream rational and law abiding society kind of way.

Like a ghost from the past, the skeleton tumbles out and presses play and on this day of All Souls, I remember and pray not for the man, the relative, but for his victims. Those hapless lonely heart who so easily believed and those who still long for their perceived love lost. I pray and I grieve for them.
 
S