asthma theory...conspiracy theory

I'M NOT A FREAK, I just write that way....

My first big, original conspiracy theory...I think it all started with a Jerry Garcia sighting in the meat department at Wal-Mart today.

Asthma theory: Inhalers in childhood will lead to sucking on a bong? Like oral fixation from thumb sucking or pacifier to chewing on pencils and pens? So the progression of modern medicine could be the leading factor in the drug problem in America...the world! And it's the chemicals from the medicines we take that break down our body, thus leading to...in a round about way...asthma. Hence the rapid vortex of chronic breathing problems and habits and genetics and life that spins us from childhood, hereditarilly, into adulthood. Asthma leads to anxiety...anxiety leads to depressives...depressives come in many forms. Aren't our bodies naturally inclined toward the earth and it's vitamins and remedies for true wellness? It's our minds that have led us to "modern" medicine. Who decides "modern" medicine? It's all the kids throughout the years who never did drugs like weed, except maybe once or twice. They went to medical school to make medicine to replace the natural effects of pot, in an underlying effort perhaps to "change the world" (in more ways than one). Drugs are prescribed these days for the stress that hitting a bong could fix almost immediately. Pills like xanax, vallium, which are more than fogging the mind for a few hours but doing neurological rearranging, changing chemicals synthetically with long term consequences, like chemical dependence. But the big kicker, the appeal, is that government supports the pharmaceutical companies because the pharmaceutical companies buy our politicians. How many years have asthma/allergy inhalers been mainstream and so common that every household I know has someone sucking on one? I'm pretty sure it's not much further in our history than Richard Nixon is. Nixon was the first president to declare war one drugs, correct? This was in the hippy years when Americans were first being divided in political, spiritual, and social beliefs like never before. The beginning of the government ran media telling people what to believe and how to feel about things. People with their own thought processes begin to revolt, begin to leave the common ground...for higher ground!

Yes, I know that was BIZARRE!! My Mom's twin sister, eh hem my Aunt, is a big time conspiracy theorist...so I must come by this naturally. I don't do it much, but this is one I've been toying with, and to me it's kind of like a game. Like 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon. Start at one place and wrap it all the way around, 360 degrees back to where you started. I thought I'd post it for your amusement and ponderance...perhaps. I hope I've made Aunt Debi proud!

Aunt Debi is in town right now, because my Papa is sick. She is a riot and I love her so much, and Noah calls her Granny...because she looks just like his Granny (my Mom). It's hysterical. I can't imagine what he must think. It'd be like having a clone of my own Granny in the same room with the same face and voice. What a trip. Aunt Debi is a right on lady. She took Noah with her to Target, just him and her, they bonded. This is my ode (an ode that doesn't make a lick of sense) to a true original...with a twin.

I love you Aunt Debi.

Noah had to stand in the corner...I had to take a picture!

THIIIIIIISSSS is the way I live...

On any given evening this is what I'm doing. I decided to document tonight with a little love...you know, so you can see how this single Mom rolls...please to enjoy!

Noah had the worst reaction to mosquito "geetoe" bites, he's in agony...Benadryl to the rescue! He will be a crankster tonight!

Jackson has a friend over to play Tony Hawk...

Noah is pouting because he wants to play too...but Jackson only has two controllers...he whines until super hero Mom can make it better...

I forced Jackson to let Noah sit in his room, thus becoming the meanest Mom in the world! Moments before this Noah had been pee pee dancing but refusing to go because nothing mattered more than the fact he wanted to watch and play too. I had told him to go, but he was too late. I changed his clothes, and started a load of laundry. I am Mommy the nursemaid.

Another little boy comes over...I go take some advil. Entertainment Tonight is starting so I go sit down for the first time since I've been home...an hour and a half after I got home. I get up about 5 minutes later to dig out an old broken controller so Noah will stop spazzing out. I tell him that he is the guy in the yellow and creatively spell "p-r-e-t-e-n-d" to the other boys. I wink, and then I make a mean face to imply that they will die if they don't play along.

About ten minutes after I sat down again I get up again. Then I have a very stern sounding talking to with all of them regarding arguing. "If you guys can't play together nicely then everyone will go home and Jackson and Noah will go to bed." This transforms me into bossy uncool Mom. I turn to go back to the nonsense news that transplants me into another place...where adults seem important.

Noah, Jackson, Clayteon (Noah calls him "Play-key-lawn"), and Jack.

Noah eventually falls asleep. Jackson will soon. Then I will retreat to the computer and fiddle around for a while. This will be Piper The Tired. I will listen to Aretha Franklin and Ludacris and Citizen Cope while I blog, then do something like dishes and unload the dryer, then I'll work on going to sleep myself. But first I need to clean my bathrooms...sleep schmeep. After all, I'm the housekeeper too. The cook took the night off by way of PB&J.

Ever wonder what I do in the evenings? It's riveting, huh.

back from camp, 2 years older...

Jackson had the best time of his life at camp, and I am so glad. Stories and more stories, and mysterious findings in the suitcase. Though I was a thorough packer, Jackson only wore one pair of underwear the whole time, and apparently only two of the six shirts I packed for him...also, a shiny spider-like bug crawled out of his wet shoes when I unpacked them. Other things that he brought back from camp were not packed, but plastered all over his demeanor. He's a little more mature and more confident, less whiny, and through-the-hoops happy.

Ahhh camp!

I took at picture of him, he looks about two years older to me. One thing I'm sure of is that this kid is going to be beating of the girls with a stick one day, he's so cute! (Even if I do say so myself.)

gut feelings...

Do you ever get the sense that something much bigger than you, but directly involving you, is going on...yet you can't put your finger on what it is exactly??

Wow, I do! Especially now.

Right now, like in this month, it seems like good things (new and surprising good things) are all around me...swirling in fanciful acrobatics throughout my aura (cool how colorful that just sounds isn't it?).

I can't tell where it began exactly, or why... I have no idea really...so this is just a little praise report of sorts...a weather report if you'd rather, it might (?) be harvest time. I don't really need a definition, I'm just enjoying it and thanking God! Whatever is going on I really appreciate it! It's high time for a little, or big, dose of good! I'll take it!

I'm reading a book called "The Penny" by Joyce Meyer, in it is a passage that is very appropriate:

"That these are the hands of a girl who feels something unnamed waiting inside to get out, something bigger than she can hold? A girl who keeps hearing in her head that she might be asked to do something great in the world someday? A girl who has a deep desire to use her hands to help other people, but she can't see how that would ever happen?"

even sleepy/cranky kids aren't bringing me down these days

night of the living fruit flies

When I came back from vacation I noticed that there were a few, just a few, fruit flies in my kitchen. I didn't know why they were there because I didn't have any fruit in the house, so I just assumed that it was because the place had been closed up for a while. Then, progressively, each day I began to see a few more...and then a few more, then eventually in the last week there were, literally, swarms of fruit flies in my kitchen.

I have been cleaning like a mad woman trying to eradicate this plague. I have been searching for the source of this pestilence to no avail. I came to believe that the gnats seemed to be centralized around my sink at one point, so I flushed my garbage disposal with bleach, ice, lemons, and comet. The disposal has never been cleaner...yet the bugs were not only still buzzing my kitchen, they seemed to be multiplying. I was working hard to keep my sanity in order, but my nerves were teetering on the brink of a total and complete FREAK OUT! When they start landing on the humans it's time for war. These gnats have been so thick in the last few days that I literally would just stand and watch them in their cloud as they hovered.

I have cleaned and cleaned and disinfected and wracked my brain to figure out why my kitchen has become the fruit fly mecca. I was at my wits end, and as much as I oppose chemicals in my home, I was deciding that the only thing left to do was to bomb my house with a fogger. I had set out about four bowls of cider vinegar, and each bowl had approximately 20 drowned flies sunken in the bottom, yet they were not going away. I envisioned one of my sons throwing a piece of a banana behind or under my stove or something, and that eventually I would find this blob of nasty funk, but this would only be after I demolished the entire house looking for it.

all those little brown spots...those are dead fruit flies! just one bowl!

But last night I found it! It wasn't a banana. I haven't had bananas in my house for months because my boys are currently on banana strike. I was in the kitchen, which has sorta become my own chemistry/entomology lab. After I sprayed bleach over all the surfaces of my kitchen last night, and let it "soak" for maybe an hour, I went in to re-wipe all the surfaces with soapy water. I was down on my hands and knees picking up a tiny little Lego from underneath the cabinets, which I think God himself must have tossed down there so I would be able to find the nest when I bent over to pick it up.

There was a trail, like ants, under my cabinets of gnats leading into my pantry. I opened the door and frantically began pulling all of my dry goods from all the shelves. Low and behold, on the bottom shelf, behind the grocery store sacks, buried under things I never think about, there was a bag with 3 oranges in it! Three rotten, funkdified, fermenting oranges covered in fruit flies!!

Not only do I have no idea why those oranges were there, I have absolutely no idea how long they have been there. I held my breath as to not inhale a gnat, and took the bag out of my house. The rest of the night was spent setting more traps to catch the flies...bowls of cider vinegar, dish soap, coke, and I even put up fly paper. When I awoke this morning only a couple of fruit flies were still alive. It's now the afternoon and we are almost free and clear...and stability is slowly returning for the first time in weeks. I'm still experiencing nervous air slapping ticks, but the low rumbling buzz has finally left my ears.

further trapping initiatives

a mommy/son milestone...

A pretty big day in the life of this Mom happened yesterday. Jackson left for camp! His first camp and first time away from home without family.

I have been looking forward to this day for a long time because I know that this will be a big and wonderful experience for him...he'll never forget this one. Jackson went to Turner Falls Kids Kamp. This is the exact same camp I went to as a kid. I clearly remember being the same age as Jackson and going to camp for the first time. I went to the same camp every summer until I was 17. That's ten years of summers and some of the best memories I have were made there. This is also the same camp that my Mom went to! That's like a legacy or something...but what I know now, suddenly...like a bullet to my heart...is that my little boy is no longer a baby, and I'm surprised to find myself being flooded with all these new and strange "Mom" emotions.

Maybe because I'm a single Mom, or because I'm busy, or sidetracked, but I don't usually afford myself many of these kinds of motherly sob sessions...what good are they...I have to be strong and level headed at all times, right? But this time I can't help it. I left my Jackson at the church to get on this HUGE, piercing black, coach bus that is going to take him two hours away from his comfort zone. A part of me feels like I abandoned him, with a suitcase and sleeping bag. On the other hand, I am so proud of him that I can't breathe! He's so brave.

Is this is what motherhood is going to be bringing me from now on, with each new leap into maturity? I wasn't prepared for this when I asked God for babies. Of course I wouldn't change one thing though. It's bitter, it's sweet, it's overwhelming, but it also feels like one of my finest achievements in life.

consumer confidence

At work we were talking about how, now that we are in advertising, we pay way more attention to advertising. Seems to be highly effective advertising too. Case in point...

All logic would tell me, even if based solely upon 8th grade experience alone, that under no circumstance should I shake a drink in a can...vigorously...before I open it to take a sip. Logic must have gone for a walk today though.

I came home from work and, ready to fall over therefore needing a pick-me-up, I opened the fridge to get a tasty something or other. I instantly spotted the choice, sitting there smiling at me on the third shelf.



I recently bought a couple of Yoohoo's. Remember Yoohoo's? Those chocolate drinks that are like chocolate water...but super yummy? We all decided we liked them, so when I went to the grocery store last night I thought I might get some more Yoohoo's (I like the sound of the word "yoohoo" too). So, as I'm passing my eyes over the shelves of Coke and juice and Jones Soda I notice something *new*! (I don't know if they are new, but they weren't there the last time I was there)

I had purchased the standard/regular Yoohoo's in the tiny glass bottles before, but my eyes landed on the Yoohoo in the large pop cans this time. This is a better choice for my house...because I don't really want to step on an upside down bottle cap in the middle of the floor with my bare foot ever again. Plus they are large cans, which means I can stretch one can into two drinks, so they last longer...they were also the same price as the bottles.

The glitch with Yoohoo is that you have to shake, shake, shake before you drink, drink, drink. Otherwise all the syrup is at the bottom and the nasty (probably) whatever-it-is is on top, separated like vinegar and oil.

So when I open the refrigerator I see the bright yellow can with brown splats and think "yay!", it's a vintage/modern treat to wet my whistle! I open the can immediately, and then immediately realize I forgot to shake it...ewww. One to burn. I grab another can and proceed to SHAKE with the intensity of an F-5 tornado. I turned it upside down and shook it some more, then rotated it on it's side and did that throwing dice shake. I was an uber efficient mixer of my own cocktail...I only stopped because I was thirsty.

What happens when you shake a can of Coke and open it? Well, we all know the answer to that. And, oddly enough, that is exactly the same thing that happens when you do that to a canned Yoohoo.

SPEW! SPRAY! FIZ! SPEWWWWWW! It went everywhere!

Consider yourself warned. I'll be taking this matter up with the Yoohoo people because, clearly even in this case, the words "Shake It!" should not be emblazoned on any can of anything.

what's the deal with sleep walking?

Jackson is a night walker. He goes to bed around 9:00 every night, and just about every night I can expect him, or something that looks like him but doesn't act like him, to wander out of his room and do something random. Sometimes, like about 45 minutes ago, it scares the beejeezus out of me.

I was sitting in my room, right here on the computer, and I here this scratching rattling noise. It curdles my blood, because I'm a scaredy cat at night sometimes. The kind of all-in-one thought twenty thoughts at once thing happens. I know that the boys are asleep, the front door is locked..."what the heck was that?"!!

I get up and walk down the hall to see Jackson standing in the laundry room lifting up the bottom of the bulletin board that hangs on the wall. He's trying to pull it off the wall, he turns around and looks at me and I say "what are you doing?", he says "I'm just looking for something to eat." I walked him back to his bed and prayed for peaceful sleep, he moaned and groaned then rolled over, stuck his thumb in his mouth and went back to sleep. But I know that he was actually asleep the whole time.

he only does this in his sleep too

It's so weird!! It's like walking out a dream or something. One of those dreams where nothing exactly makes any sense but in your mind it all makes sense and when you try to tell someone about your dream you then realize it sounds absurd. Why do we dream, and what's the deal with dreams...that's a big mystery to me. But! When it goes outside your bed and you start acting it out, unconsciously, that borders on FREAKY!

Once, in Jr. High, my Mom woke me up one morning with this big question..."Why did you do that?" It wasn't one of those "Mom questions" that are really accusations. It was real curiosity. I had no idea what she was talking about. She pointed at the bedroom door, and laying in a pile in the doorway was every piece of bed linen from the bed I was sleeping on. The sheets, the mattress pad, the pillowcase (not the pillow), the blanket and...and!...the bed skirt! Apparently, I had undressed the bed in my sleep and thrown it all in a pile and gone back to sleep on a bare mattress...all completely in my sleep. Can you imagine the time it must have taken me to do that?? Scary!

So I suppose Jackson comes by it genetically or something, but yowza it's freaky!!

"and now my burdens are lifted!"

Warning: Extremely long and personal post, if you aren't interested it's okay, if you read it I hope that you are blessed!

This will be my attempt to describe a miracle, a for sure turning point in my life. I have to testify, I have to. Yes, I agree that the word "miracle" is thrown around too easy sometimes, and that a miracle is a tuffy to really define. In the dictionary, the #2 definition fits my interpretation: "2. such an effect or event manifesting or considered as a work of God."

Anxiety is this vicious beast that comes out of no where some days and consumes all parts of my consciousness, debilitating me to the point of a complete nervous breakdown. This is sometimes often, other times less frequent, but once you feed the beast with your thoughts and your own analytical breakdowns the beast grows bigger and stronger and becomes harder to resist and eventually it comes to live with you. I think the beast came to live with me just after Noah was born, the same time as my marriage ended. I have wrestled with it continually ever since.

I have done anxiety meds, they make you feel like you are a sick person and make you feel numb and out of control of life...like you can't go on without them, I think. I have been to counseling...which is a lot like paying someone to try and pretend to give a crap about you, and lots of talking and rehashing, to ultimately be told that you have to think about things differently, and you knew that already. I have really been beginning to feel like there was no answer or help. My life in the last 4 years has been insanely up and down, over and over and over, with big huge lows and moderate highs. I've been really scared sometimes to tell you the truth, wondering how I could possibly go on for even one more year of this, I just don't think I can bear the stress, I might explode!

It's my new job, the most fulfilling and "interest related" job I've ever had, that I love and feel a little under-equipped to do as well as I want to be doing and I want to be that good NOW. I feel like I am definitely in my league, it's just that I'm new at this certain gig, I'm a rookie in this game, and I do not want to screw up! Not to mention the thought of losing my job (which won't happen but I worry about anyway), which would mean all sorts of other bad stuff would follow. It's money, it's my kids, it's this and that, and my Mom, and being tired, and being absent from ones I love...see this is how it goes, one thing leads to another...constantly, it piles up like a big pile of manure and it sits on you and suffocates you and you feel helpless. And when you mix in all your own insecurities it's a real dung heap! And I bet you are exhausted just reading that...but if you have anxiety like me then you know.

I finally got to the point where I was desperate, so I starting talking to God about it. Seriously talking to God about it. When will I learn to start going to Him first?? Lord knows I've been taught to do that my whole life...and I did pray about things that bothered me and my struggles, but never did I actually turn it all over to God. I'm a real dummy sometimes, I think that's called "being human" but it nevertheless reminds me that I can't make it in this life without depending on God. The amazing thing about seeking God is that He is immediately with you.

I gradually began to recall some scriptures that I have hidden in my heart...

"Cast all your care on Him for He cares for you"

"First of all your strength must come from the Lord's mighty power within you"

I began to realize that what I have actually been doing all this time was refusing to trust that God would help me, refusing to truly believe that His hand is at all involved in my life, and with that I eliminated my comfort and joy, and instilled this desperate fear of dropping one of the balls that I continually juggle. I began to feel like God was asking me to turn over the "control" that I thought I was supposed to have to Him. Give him my anxiety, give it all to Him, and He would carry the weight for me. That weight that has slumped my shoulders, caused a big furrowed brow wrinkle in my forehead, has caused me to be a stress/comfort eater and gain weight, has spoiled opportunities, and robbed me of my confidence and stolen my peace. God actually asked me to give that to Him. "His yoke is easy, and His burden is light.", which means that this all consuming thing (anxiety) in my life is nothing to Him, and He has the answers, after all He is the God who created the earth and the universe and all living things, surely He can carry me and all that concerns me. Plus, the fantastic part is that He wants to. It's a matter of trust. And it's all because of His love for me.

So I repented for allowing anxiety to consume me and asked God to show me how to give this to Him, eventually asking God to take it from me because I didn't know how to actually give it to Him. I was just sitting on my couch, praying sincerely, and suddenly this warm wash of comfort and peace flooded me. The peace rose like a high tide around me, the comfort that I haven't known since childhood raised up and lifted the burden of worry off of me, sending the anxiety to float off into oblivion. I could feel it, it was palpable. In that moment I knew, without doubt, that God had just taken my anxiety from me! I was suddenly free, free like I possibly have never known before. In this completeness, out of my mouth I proclaimed, somewhat unconsciously and prophetically, "And now my burdens are lifted!" Just like that. I asked God to do this huge thing for me, and in that moment He did it! He answered my prayer, right then. In the hours that followed I experienced such abundance and I could sense that God was already at work in me, renewing me. Repairing the years of damage that the sin of "worry" has done to my spirit. When we worry it's like saying to God "God, I don't think you are big enough to handle this, so I'm going to worry about it for a while because that will make it better."

So after that, I wrote that phrase down, and posted it on my refrigerator to remind me that I gave my anxiety to God, He has it now. I wrote it down to keep me from forgetting and taking it back. Was this a "miracle"? To me it was. It was something I needed and couldn't do for myself. Was it also me deciding to obey God and repenting, yes. It all goes together. God prepares us for what He's about to do. No doubt God has been bringing me to this for a while now, and I am so grateful. I know I will struggle again at times, but I will quickly remember that the burden of anxiety is not mine anymore, it belongs to my Heavenly Father and I am not going to take it back.

Thank you God for making me a new woman! Thank you for everything and for the beautiful future that you are leading me into.

ARG! hardee-har-har-har...

A very funny thing happened today when the beloved installation guy arrived to turn me back on. (tee hee)

While Jackson was at the skatepark this morning, which by the way has sorta become my special time with Noah, I went to Target. I needed deodorant. Of course, as always, I found other items that somehow I can't live without, and the only remedy to that, of course, was to buy the goods, and, in so doing, fuel the magnificent nightmare that is Target.

One thing I picked up is this doormat...a real must have.

So, earlier this afternoon there was a knock at the door. It was the knock...the long awaited knock from the Cox Communications man, arriving to redeem me. I opened the door and with the biggest amount of sincere gratitude exclaimed "WE ARE SO HAPPY YOU ARE HERE!" (forgetting before about the little matter of what now appears to be a mean rug)

The poor little man standing before me was very "insurance salesman"-esque, and not at all the sort of dude one stereotypically expects a cable guy to be. He looked really perplexed but smiled and said without saying it, "huh?" Before he really has a chance to say anything at all, I start in, da-da-da-yada-yada-yada-"can you make sure it all works before you leave?" All the while I'm smiling ear-to-ear and semi-dancing a celebratory dance with my boys. He just stood there in silent confusion, it was written all over his face. Finally, after maybe 10 minutes, he says "you knew I was coming?" Then I've got the silent confusion face and say "yes it is Saturday." Then we stumble over our differing knowledge and sort the facts out to be that he was, in fact, here to pick up my DVR and modem to take them back. I scramble and find my receipt to prove that he should not take them away. Apparently, he got his work order last Monday and is a contracted repo-man of sorts assigned to collect Cox's equipment. So, actually, my cable guy, the redeemer, was like 30 minutes behind him. Big confusion!!

After we figured it out, I started to laugh, and said to him "no wonder you looks so confused when I opened the door." "That's hilarious!" He got it, but since he was Wonder Pocket Protector Man, he was unable to participate in the ha-ha's.

a brand new day...

The day of joyous revelry is upon me now, I'm back online at home! woooohoooo

HALLELUJAH and HOT DIGGITY DOG!!

at our campsite, sunset

Everyday, and virtually every moment, of the last 4 weeks (yes, can you believe it's been that looooooonnnggggg?) I have been planning my post-vacation posts. I was so excited and all abuzz with flurries of creative prose and even succeeded in successful note taking as to not forget one juicy detail. Now here I am, and guess what? I can't for the life of me think what to tell you. Which yummy tid-bits to wet your appetite for more? I'm a big fat blank.

My vacation was wonderful, absolutely, and I am full of intense happiness and overwhelming pining for the town and people and adventures that were, just 6 months ago, my daily life...I dearly adored that life. So, it seems that, for the time being I might just need to roll these memories around in my mind for a while...memorize them...engrave them on my skull...so they will never leave me. Because, the cold hard truth is who knows how long it will be before I get to go back, and I don't want to forget. I don't want to forget the feelings in certain moments, the sweetness of my Jeremy, or the air or what camping in the lightning storm felt like. I'm terribly homesick.

So, what I am going to do is just start blogging again about the day to day mumbo jumbo and periodically throw a reckoning on you. (Ewwww, that sounded gross.) Okie Dokie? It's a deal pickle.

When we first lost our 21st century entertainment I was in some sort of shock. I was soooo sad about it. I pouted like a 2 year old, the big lip and all. But, of course, we made it just fine. We discovered the joys of watching movies together that aren't cartoons. That was great! Plus, and this sorta - sorta - makes me feel guilty for wanting the grand diversions back, I'm sure we spent some bits of time together that we normally don't... we all survived the jolt. Now, I can go to the bathroom in peace again...as long as it's between the beginning and end of a part of a Spongebob episode, not a commercial break.

Jackson's been doing great in his SK8 (yeah I just did that "SK8" thing, dorky I know) lessons. He can drop in a half pipe now, pivot back and do an axle stall (I'm kicking my butt for not having my camera with me to film it). DID YOU HEAR THAT FOLKS? My son is A-W-E-S-O-M-E!!

Here's a little youtube for you to enjoy, this is a "trick" that he and his friend made up. While we're on the subject of home videos, I'm looking into purchasing a better camera for these types of things, but have no idea where to begin or exactly what to look for. Any tips??

I'm ever so happy to be back (online), I am so in love with writing I can't even tell you. It's the greatest feeling to write, I have always loved it. I have been journaling my life since I was 7. But with this joy bit, I'm sure you all can relate. I haven't decided how narcissistic I feel this is yet, the big part of my awareness tells me that it's insanely self-indulgent, which is something I guess I was raised to think was wrong. I don't know? Anyway, I just sometimes feel a little silly for blogging, but the flip side is that I have found this incredible outlet for my "talent." Okay, talent might be a stretch, but I sure do love to do it. So I'm counting it as a good thing.

I am going to, at some soon juncture, post about an incredible experience I had yesterday, regarding writing and the neurosis that impairs me. I'm planning on lots of posts, lots and lots of posts, I'm bursting at the seams, FYI, so try and keep up!

my day alone on Jackson Lake...heavenly

The Road

I finished The Road by Cormac McCarthy on my vacation...I'd like to tell you about it but must preface my book report by stating that there is no way for me to do it justice.

It's gray. The whole thing is gray, in fact I'm stricken with awe at how it is that McCarthy was able to use the word "gray" so often and still have it seem fresh. He is brilliant. This book is a hard read, it's painful, but you can't stop. The agony forces you to keep reading, as if by continuing to read you can keep the father and his son alive. My heart broke. I was haunted by the passages, and was even afraid to sleep one night for fear of nightmares (granted I was camping in the middle of Grizzly habitat and it was like 2 in the morning and there was a lightning storm.) However, the amount of pure love, pure real fatherly love, is unmeasurable and so touching that I found myself crying more than once. In this book, a story of a post-apocalyptic journey in which there is no hope...NO HOPE...you still see the value of love. His poetic verse is as captivating as it is torrential. He has a Biblical type of vocabulary that wisps you away from everything you've read before and it took all of my comprehension skills at times to make it to the next paragraph. It was well worth it though. I'm sure that I'm smarter now that I read this book.

For a story that was purposefully dark, hard, and heart-wrenching, is was just as beautiful and lovely and tender. I loved this book. I appreciate McCarthy and feel some sort of kinship with him in a bizarre way, this book did that for me.

After The Road, I read At First Sight by Nicholas Sparks. Very "The Notebook"-esque. It was good, I did like it, but after reading The Road it seemed generic and whimsical and maybe that's okay, I'm not sure. I'm going to live with McCarthy's tale in my mind for a long time I know. In fact, in The Road he mentions, more than once, the importance of minding what you let in your head, because once you let something in you can't let it back out, it's always there. Let The Road in your head, I think it's worth it.

new nationality...

I was at a workshop yesterday for the Oklahoma Press Association and among all the amazing things I learned to help me be a rock star at work, I also learned something that took me by surprise.

If Myspace were a country it would be the 11th largest country in the world!! Is that insane or what? I've heard that employers are starting to check candidates myspaces before they choose to hire someone, and when I mentioned it to Ryan (a fellow ad exec.) he said "hell yeah, we checked your myspace out before you got hired!" It was a little alarming, I guess it's okay though, because I got the job I wanted. But it makes me think of all the sad myspace cases out there, the kids who post drunken pics of debauchery and illegality. They could really be in trouble...trouble that goes beyond Mom & Dad.

Anyhoo...life is going well inspite mourning the loss of my Internet connection at home. I'm guesstimating it'll be about a month before I'm back. You don't know what you've got til it's gone. All I do, aside from all I do, is plan posts...I have ideas folks! I am going to be a writing fool with all this inspiration...I've been taking notes. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Love'ems

brutal reality...

My spirit seems vacated now, I'm hurting from a modern day type of woe, a kind of torture if you will, and I don't see an end, rather a new beginning, in the near future.

A few months ago my income was slashed because I stopped getting child support. This of course means that my way of life has been reduced to the bare minimums...again...meaning all monies go directly to the shelter, food, and utilities upkeep.

While I was away on vacay (which was paid for in February) my cable, phone, and....INTERNET was cut off. This is because I couldn't afford to pay the bill so I didn't. Now don't start any sort of scheme to help me re-prioritize, I get it, in the big picture this is not the end of the world. But it sure does suck. Now, in order to get these three turned back on I will have to pay a deposit on each one again, meaning it could be until kingdom come (or until I hit the lottery) before I can get them turned back on. I'm crushed, because I was so excited about doing all sorts of things with my vacation photos, and telling stories, and catching up on my blog roll. Now, instead, I'm sitting at work using a computer which I'm probably not supposed to be using, telling everyone a sob story of single motherhood.

I'm going through withdrawl because I know I won't get to post much for a good long while, and you still haven't seen any pictures from my trip...the ones I so laboriously accumulated for visual aids for my harrowing tales of mischief and wonderment.

Please don't forget about me. I will post as much as I can. And someday, I will devise some sort of contraption to turn ex husband hogwash into WIFI and send automatic deposits into the child support bank from the change they spill into the cushions as they couch indefinitely.

My favorite things, aside from the real important things in life, are gone. Blogging, myspacing, researching, emailing. All the "me" stuff I did in the evenings is over...I'm so sad about it.


Send me some good vibes...and a lottery ticket. I will love you forever.

Home...it's where your kids are...

Yes, I made it home...back to the real world from the land of fairy tales and fantasies. There are so many things bubbling in me; the fullness of joy, the agony, the redemption, the way life is, was and may be.

First things first though, actually, the last thing first, then eventually I will, in pure Piper fashion, tell you about my vacation.

The flight from Denver to OKC, the little hop skip and jump that it should have been was, in fact, one of the worst experiences ever of all time. Actually, I can't really say that, because during the events and as they unfolded I was making mental notes for the very purpose of telling all, and that brought me much delight.

I had a 20 minute connection, because my first flight was running late. I made it to the gate, after a pit stop, just in time to hear the lady announce that seating for first class passengers was now beginning. My boarding pass is seating 4, so I am waiting for my turn, and suddenly I see this man running. A large, sweaty, panic stricken middle-aged balder, was running, screaming "wait! wait! don't shut the gate! I'm here! I'm coming, wait for me, lady! don't shut the door!" He is a spectacle, he is pulling his bag behind him, but it's actually flying, and he hands his boarding pass to the lady and she says "sir, you are seating 4, we are not seating you yet." To which he replies, "I just don't want to miss the plane."

There I sit, blending in with my iPod and novel and observing, hoping to high heaven that I don't have to sit next to that guy. Finally it's time for me to get on the plane, it's almost 9:30pm. I walk on, find my seat, 13C, and low and behold, there he is right next to me across the isle. He really shouldn't have been wearing a red shirt because to me, at this point, he looked exactly like a boiling sausage link...he was sweating like one anyway. So I sit and start adjusting. Then my other neighbors arrive. Mr and Mrs lovebirds, whom I assume to be newlyweds...she's rubbing his stomach, then she rubs his leg, his ears, his fingers, his face, then his feet, yes his feet!! The adorable-precious Charles, our feisty in flight comedian begins serving up his version of the pre-flight announcements. It was one of those big planes that require the flight attendants to stand up and down and in the middle of the isle while preforming their finely choreographed routine. In the middle of the their schpill, on the parts that no one pays attention to, sausage link pipes up. "What about a drink?!" Charles, who's preforming an arms length away from my row, looks at the man, then asks me "does he belong to you?" I shake my head, and maybe accidentally rolled my eyes or something, because Charles then advises Link "see what happens when you behave this way" and resumes is recital.

About 15 minutes later, it felt like longer, the pilot comes on to proclaim that we are #8 in line to take off and we should be leaving in about 40 minutes. (!!!!!) The biggest problem with that, aside from Link, lovebirds, and the fact that my iPod just died, is that there was no air on the plane. It was stifling. Perhaps that is why Charles thought Link belonged to me? Two perspiring people with pain on their faces are always in the same boat, right?

All I was doing was sitting there, quietly, attempting but failing to read. On the inside I was about to blow, reminding myself that you can't say bomb on an airplane. I was in a tube shaped hell and they strapped me in. But the best was yet to come.

My favorite eye witness moment this year happened on the tarmac at DIA. Mr Lovebird, on his 5th trip to the overhead compartment (each time, rather than saying something personal or apologetic like I would have, he just abruptly blurted "excuse me", I had to unbuckle and get up and let his bigness slide by me) he found a book. This book he placed in his lap was the classic "Narnia." The one that was just a movie. The one I read when I was a kid. He opens the book and Mrs. Lovebird says "Lover? What's that book about?" And Mr. Lovebird replies "it's about dragons." My hand to God.

Eventually I landed in OKC, at 12:30pm. My life in it's constant frantic pace waiting to suck me back in as soon as I got my bag.

I came home to two blond heads snoring in the same bed, and my heart was warmed. I kissed their pushy cheeks and smelled their hair. This is a wonderful life. My kids are my home.