There is nothing quite like a night swim...even better naked.
I got my first one in (finally) last night. When it is freakishly hot outside, the only place for me is the pool.
I feel completely at ease in the water and without restrictive clothing its an amazing feeling.
Here's to more nights of night swimming.
Good song, great lyrics-- a message for us all. Onward, forced through what is next/ And only for the benefit of somebody else/ Stubborn, I refuse to ask for help/ The only expense is just the debt to myself/
This will break/ I just can't/ So I will burn the other end/
Guilty, resenting what I've done/ Traded everything I love for what I have become/ It's wasted, no wonder I'm afraid/ Always struggling to justify the sacrifice I've made/
Well, shit has been busy. And it is stupid hot outside. I have to drive to Muncie in a few hours and I have not been doing my readings. You could say I have a case of the "fuck-its."
Going to Lutheran funerals are pretty churchy. But what is the saying? You can take the girl out of church, but you can't take the church out of the girl? Church is like a soft, comfy t-shirt that when you put it on, you feel content. I was glad to be there, singing the songs, saying the mantras and creeds I knew by heart.
My uncle was a better man than I remembered. And I think that as we get closer to the sand leaving the top of the hourglass, something changes. Our days are numbered and its really only our will that stands between what we have here and what comes next.
Godspeed.
I feel like I am 45 again.
The long bike rides have been a meditative journey and I can fly-- feeling like the young teenager riding my bike on hot summer nights out with friends through cornfields and creekbeds.
I am free in those moments to think and to connect with the road. The swimming has also been a gift, and my knees are finally allowing for longer workouts in the pool. I was able to do a short run today, but didn't want to push it. Still, I feel better than I have in over 10 years. It's been worth every lap, every mile, every rep, every hour in the gym.
I'm starting a new blog. Maybe going in a different direction-- not sure. There's just so much on here from the past that doesn't serve anymore.
I looked back at my photos and found the scale from October 31, 2024. I was 154.7 pounds. And that was a good day.
Today I am 121.2
I have noticed that as of late, every time I travel, something bad happens at home.
When in Israel-- Guiena Pig #1 died, When in Sedona-- My Uncle died, When in San Antonio, S.O. went to the E.R., and now in Madison-- Guiena Pig #2 died. Not sure if this is a bad omen or just dumb luck.
When I'm on the road, I usually dream. I rarely dream when at home. In San An, the dreams were bad-- horrific, actually. The wakeyouupsweatingcantgobacktosleep kind of dreams.
This trip the dreams have been filled with effervescent bubbles so bright in color and hue--
I am talking to someone in my mind. There is no sound. No visual. Like underwater.
Only the words, like on a screen or a piece of paper typed out.
The words talking to me share secrets. They seem real, as if there is an actual person attached to them.
The words I hear in my head make me feel something. I try to construct the vision of the person-- what they may sound like, what they look like, but it doesn't materialize.
I question if this is Limerence? That makes me seem crazy.
I decide that it must be SIRI or some AI Bot that can say all of the things that you would think an actual person would say, but it is only an illusion-- and remind myself you are dreaming This is a lucid dream.
After a time, the words stop coming to my memory. The effervescence of the bubbles diminish. It grows darker. I can't hear or see them. I wonder if this is what madness or dementia must feel like-- losing the person slowly, bit by bit, piece by piece, until there is nothing left of them. It feels like drowning would be--but worse.
At the end of the dream, there is nothing but a large bubble that moves close to my face. I reach out with my index finger and pop the bubble, its wettness hitting my eyes and face.
Then I wake up.
Nowhere in the corridors Of pale green and gray Nowhere in the suburbs In the cold light of day There in the midst of it So alive and alone Words support like bone Dreaming of Mercy Street
Wear you're inside out Dreaming of mercy In your daddy's arms again Dreaming of Mercy Street I swear they moved that sign Dreaming of mercy In your daddy's arms
I know I have posted this song before, but I felt it so strongly today while walking the rainy streets of Madison. I guess I should have selected "Red Rain" but "Mercy Street" captures my mood today. SO was such an impactful album my freshman year in college. It still hits me on a level that few records do now.
Looking for Mercy.
We worked quickly today and were out by 12:30--giving grace to explore the city a bit further, my mind recording everything for next time. Hoping to see you, a stranger, around the next corner.
Time is so odd on these trips. I close the blinds at 7pm and it could be midnight. Then I wake at 4am and do the job.
Maybe one of these jobs will land me an opportunity to advance to something more than breaking down boxes and stacking pointless evals. I guess the presenter's kids (who are still in college) know more about efficient management than a 33 year teacher-- but whatever.
I think about how your future and your life really depends on the leverage of your parents. If they didn't make it, or struggled, you are at a disadvantage. Even if they were climbing the corporate ladder or were doing all of the things, you don't have that Golden Ticket. The Pedigree.
My parents were first generation college (their parents had community college or less)-- and I guess it showed. We had to work hard for everything.
My girl will be better than I was, and hers will be even more at an advantage-- but she (just like I) learned, it takes hard work. Once people no longer know what it's like to work for success, they fall into a different category--one I will never understand.
Should I tell you about the 6th grade overnight birthday party to Laura Spitsberg's where I brought a Jigsaw puzzle for a gift (because that was what I would have liked as a gift) and she got designer make-up, perfume and Gloria Vanderbilt jeans from other girls... Humiliating. Mom didn't know better. I wore Garanimals clothing and played with strawberry shortcake dolls and plastic dinosaurs. I wasn't into makeup or boys or designer clothes. I was a child. Not a cotillion bred darling or Jewish princess. She lived in the coveted Eden Glen neighborhood-- what was the richest part of Carmel at the time before Crooked Stick was developed. She invited every girl from our class to the party. And you remember what I thought of that 6th grade homeroom..
Well, I was never added to that friend group. I was laughed at for the rest of my time in Carmel, driving a 1974 Ford hatchback Pinto with balled tires and no radio. Think Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink but a lot less glam.
Ugh...sorry Rabbit Hole.
Laura, I sure hope you are happy with your well-to-do life wherever you are now. I guess you didn't have to "marry up."
This could be my theme song. I'm such a summer girl. I'm kinda like a prettier Jesus Blink three times when you feel it kickin in
I wanted to get a little writing in before I have to set up and, well, it's my favorite day of the year: summer solstice! I found this about my Sun Sign today. It is exactly what I have been saying to myself for the past several weeks!
Starting today I will Honor my Journey, Set a Powerful Intention, Release, Realign and Rise.
It's all about Expansion--which is what Sagittarius is all about. An adventure calls from a direction you had completely stopped watching. A journey begins that leads somewhere the soul has been searching for. Say yes to everything that excites you right now.
Thank you Universe! How did you know I needed to hear this today?
Turn on a new kind of bright, IT'S SOLAR. That's me, baby.
If you ever get a chance to see The Flaming Lips, you won't regret it. I just saw them on the 20 (?) anniversary tour of Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots a few summers ago. I was lucky to see them 20 years ago for the first tour as well. I was pregnant with my girl, so I guess she got to hear them in the womb!
I saw this link on the facebook and I know I have talked about this before-- that all we have is now, It sounds like an AI Anthony Hopkins but who cares. What are you waiting for? Do it.
Heading up to Madison tomorrow for work and will venture out on my own to see some new sights. I'm going to check out the Robert Lamp FLW house and would really love to tour the Herbert and Katherine Jacobs House, but I don't know if there will be time.
Mixology was super fun Tuesday night-- Chef really pulled out all the stops for us. We mixed all the classic cocktails, as well as toasting with a 2009 Amorone Classico and rounded out the night with some cheap Sparkling Wine (when you open Champagne, it should be silent--no pop ).
Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there. Hope your kids hand you a beer and leave you to your own devices.
When I was a girl, probably around 5 or 6, I was made aware of my size. When I sat in the back seat of my parent's car, I always sat in the middle between my sisters. They were both what mom called "small," "slim," or even "petite" while I was called "regular." I would look at our legs sitting back there and my thighs were bigger than theirs. "Regular" was not something I wanted to be. When I heard the word I automatically heard "Fat." My older sister was always slim and didn't have to work at it. She was 4 years older and I would often wear her cool corduroy pants-- she always had the cool artsy clothes.
While I was more of an athlete than my 2 sisters, they seemingly always stayed slim. I envied them and when we sat in the back seat, I would lift up my legs so my thighs looked smaller, constantly comparing them to my sisters' relaxed legs.
As I grew up I remember mom saying I should never wear white because it makes you look big.
I didn't even wear white to my own wedding.
I took it upon myself to lose all the weight and then some. In high school and college, I deprived myself of food, counted every calorie, including chewing gum, ate in secret and would take scalding hot showers just to pee out anything I drank. It's a wonder I made it through my freshman year of college, where I was down to 92 pounds.
I would have bouts with aneorixia over the decades, but when menopause hit, I ballooned up to a weight that was more than I was at full term pregnancy.
I look at pictures of myself even one year ago and don't recognize the woman in the photograph.
I am glad I finally figured out how to lose it-- because, well, I don't want anyone calling me 'Regular' ever again.
I am road tripping up to Muncie for the next 8 weeks for my final class on Beverage Service and Hospitality Management. This one meets in person, so I have to stay up there (class meets at night and we are drinking), which sucks, but a break from the norm. I am hoping the hotel will cut me a deal since I will have to do repeat stays every Tuesday in July. It's no beach party, but they do have an indoor pool (ha ha).
This album (Bewitched) is great for road trips. I especially like
California All the Way
the rhythm guitar in this song makes you want to put the pedal down and leave those windows wide open.
I'm hoping something will come from completing this program. If not, I guess I will get certified in something else next year!
After being out west a few times this spring I can picture myself landing there. I see myself on a motorcycle cruising through the desert and working at a winery/vineyard kinda like actress Sandra Oh in the movie Sideways but obviously not as sexy.
So, Courtyard Marriott with an indoor pool that smells like bleach in Muncie, Indiana vs. riding my motorcycle around the vineyards of California fantasy?
I guess I'll take it.
Next weekend-- a funeral in beautiful Naperville, Il with family members I have not seen since my dad's funeral 8 years ago...
CONFESSIONS OF B STUDENT
It would be funny if he still reads blogs... but I doubt it.
He posted this song when he fell in love with a girl who moved to Spain and he visited her for the summer. I couldn't listen to this song without thinking of them together, Oh lovely Amy, where are you now?
And if a double decker bus/ crashes into us/ to die by your side/ what a heavenly way to die...
He got a tattoo that read TRANSIENT and moved to the west coast. I would call him SATURNINE.
Now has 2 kids and a wife. But you can tell he is still dealing with his demons. Or maybe after all these years he figured it out. Too bad he never published anything. Now wouldn't that be something if he actually did write a novel and I played a minor character? Ugh. Old note to self-- stay away from writers.
He was my Kryptonite.
I forgot about this song. Used to play it a lot back in the day:
Well, my heart is beating hard/ And I'm off with a shot at the start/ And my legs tremble from strain/ But by the finish line, I am drained/
[Chorus] So won't you run to me tonight?/ Tonight, let's not talk about next summer/ 'Cause I'll only ever be a middle distance runner
I have a 5k run today at Switchyard Park. It's the Strawberry Shortcake 5K Run (thus the song). I have not been able to do much running since the mini but here we go. It looks like rain, so this will be an interesting morning.
Time to warm up.
I just finished my first gig of ST work and am heading home. We had a super great group and eveyone really gelled for the event. It's nice when there are no big egos and no one takes themselves or the job too seriously. While In San Antonio, I got to work for one of the popular but chill presenters-- Anthony M. He is so dynamic and professional. Having a conversation with him feels like you are elevating yourself to a whole new level.
Those of us who were on trips together last year got to compare notes. Some of us are doing repeat trips, which will be fun. Still, it will be hard to go back to places that were so meaningful and some people won't be there. Sadly, I'm sure they don't even think about what an impact the time spent together meant to me.
Here's to safe travels home.
So much for safe travels home! After a 2 1/2 hour delay we are finally on the second leg home. We had trouble getting into San Antonio as well. What is wrong with that airport? Incompetence or just bad luck?
I woke up at 4:00 am to a texdt from my S.O. that he drove himself to the ER due to pain he was feeling from a cracked tooth that was after 2 days was now infected and swollen on both sides. In this job, there is little time to look at your phone, let alone make calls. I checked again and he was now entering emergency surgery with a risk of the infection spreading.
Not having family close, I called my girl and she took the day off to take care of him. I feel like a terrible person for not turning around and going home. His "work wife" also came to my rescue feeding the pets and alerted me that our kitchen sink was totoally clogged and the house was a mess. My girl cleaned everything, watered the plants and did all of the things I usually do to keep things afloat at home. She visited S.O. three times that day, walked with him, brought him real food and Starbucks per my request.
I guess this is a snapshot of things to come-- I hope I can handle it with the grace and patience that my kid does.
I don't tend to freak out and get hysterical about stuff like this. If you have been through tough stuff you just deal with it or get someone in the tribe to help out. Not that I have a big tribe, but you find out who is there when the time comes.
I have my girl-- and she rocks.
Cheers to 35 pounds lighter and a stronger me!
****Post Addition: After my first non-treadmill run since the mini, I was driving home and "New Kid" came on the player. I had to pull into the Kroger parking lot to hear the whole song.
Here is the opening scene description of Suddenly Last Summer. It reads like a dream. If I were a scenic designer, I would be in heaven!
I got up early, worked out and took a tour around the city. I love the dry heat and the smell of the southwest. The flowers and trees are so different--as well as the bird calls. Took in The Alamo and the Mission. There was an old Mission style Catholic Church just opening its doors for Sunday worshipers, and I considered for a second to go in and sit, but decided against it.
All the women on this trip wear crosses and last night at dinner they spoke of their MEGA churches. I felt like I was judged because I ordered a Mezcal and soda as they sipped their room temperature water and ate their salmon salads.
The Women's Leadership Summit is also happening at the same venue that we are working this week. It features women whom I would never want to hear speak--like Erika Kirk, Sarah Huckabee Sanders and Leigh- Allen Baker. I am in the wrong place this week!
Speaking of places to go, I am almost through Suzanne Redfearn's Call of the Camino and really enjoy how the author set up the character lines in this book. It does seem like another adventure that would be life changing-- to walk the Way of Saint James. Given what she writes about with these characters' experiences on the path, it is grueling for even an experienced hiker.
I think if I were looking for an experience that would change me completely it would be attempting the 500 mile Camino de Santiago in Spain.
Maybe someday.
Thoiught I would put up a song with a little Spanish flair. I saw this band back in my dj days at the Bus Chumb. They give off serious masculine energy. I could feel it so strongly and I was sitting up in the balcony.
I created my summer 2026 pool list and am listening to it as I fly out west. Many of the songs on the list came from this blog. "Angel from Montgomery " is currently playing. For some reason I feel like crying. Not sure why. I've been short fused and impatient lately. Hopefully this trip will give me the space I need to do something productive and yet take the down time to regroup and figure some shit out.
There is a woman I used to work with that isn't on this work trip but just happens to be vacationing in San Antonio who is friends with my travel partner. I would consider her to be judgmental and critical and to be honest, is not a nice person. Her first words to me were, "Wow, you have lost a lot of weight." First of all, I have learned in the past 8 months that there is a right way and a wrong way to comment on a woman's weight. In my encounters with all kinds of people, only two (who both happen to be teachers) were rude about it. She is one of them.
In case you were wondering, the first way is to say nothing. But if you must comment, you say, "You look great!"
Anyway, I am glad she decided not to work for ST this summer because I can't stand her.
Was thinking about a friend that I lost touch with today-- and I realized that I don't make friends easy because I give too much of myself and they freak out. Then I play the tape in my head as to what I did wrong. Over and Over. Ha-- Gillian Welch just sang, "though there was a time when you and I were friends..." From her song "The Way It Goes" Funny but sad. Now I am crying.
I think some people are just better as loners. I am emotionally open and too vulnerable because being real is something I expect from a friend, too.
Losing someone is harder than just NOT engaging. Full Stop.
When I first got divorced, I met a friend who lived in my neighborhood. She had a daughter who was in my girl's class and we did everything together. Our favorite thing to do was to drink cheap wine and read tarot cards while the girls played. She was getting her P.H.D. in Harpsichord Pedigogy. I thought, "Wow, a real friend! Finally!"
One summer day, I went over to see her, and there was a note taped to the door. " STUDYING FOR EXAMS DO NOT DISTURB." I knocked anyway. No answer.
I called and texted only to have it go straight to VM-- and the mailbox was full.
We were in the middle of making plans to go to Disneyworld with our girls-- a big step for me to trust someone-- especially after the divorce. I understood her need to study, but to completely shut me out so abruptly and without notice was too much for me.
She never returned a single response for 2 years. I was heartbroken-- what did I do?
A few years later, I learned that her ex-husband (who was a total asshole of a man) died suddenly, so I reached out to her to see how she was doing with it all. She started chatting away like that long hiatus never happened. I see her around occasionally and she inquires about my girl and tells me her drama-- usually standing in a random parking lot around town. I never asked why she ghosted me. It was a lonely time for me and the loss of her upset me for a very long time. Yay, I'm crying again!
I guess people all handle friendships differently. I just keep picking the wrong ones. Wounded birds they all seem to be. I'm there to fix them--knowing I can't--I can only encourage, but I guess I am overwhelming instead. Then they are gone.
I guess we were never really friends. I was just a person who made them feel good for a time,made them feel seen and heard, gave them valadation, accepted them for their flaws and loved them unconditionally.
Why would I want to go through that again? Some people seem to have so many friends and are always busy making plans. There's just not enough room in their lives for one more.
My sweet daughter took the plunge and applied to med school yesterday. Over $900 for the application process to god knows how many schools. My hope is that she gets one closer than Cali or Utah, but that she is happy with the outcome. Marion College in Indy looks promising, but she has cast a wide net and is hoping for the best.
We decided to train for a mini triathlon at the end of August. I am actually not as nervous about this as I was for the Mini, but I need to get out there and do all three at once.
It will be nice to leave town this weekend for a few days and take in some new scenery. Even though it is work it will be a break from the routine here at home.
I think I am sitting at what seems like 28 days and the new habit has been established.
This song plays a lot on my new wave station and I am grateful for that. While I always took the song at face value, this time I decided to look up the meaning behind the lyrics and was surprised at what I found.
I ended up going down a rabbit hole, but eventually landed on THIS MUSIC BLOG that breaks the song and the video down quite nicely.
I learned (how did I NOT know this about one of my favorite playwrights?) Tennessee Williams wrote a one-act, "Suddenly Last Summer" is called "a dark psychological Southern Gothic tale.. It centers on a wealthy matriarch (Violet) trying to bribe a doctor into performing a lobotomy on her niece (Catharine--spelled the same way too!) to silence the sordid, terrifying truth about the mysterious death of her son (Sebastian)."
Lead Singer Martha Davis said there was no correlation to the play (Williams died in 1983, the same year the song came out). "'Suddenly Last Summer' percolated for years. The song, written after her parents had died — her mom by suicide and her dad from illness — is a reflection on those moments in life when things are changing, like when it’s a beautiful sunny day and a cold wind blows and you know the end of summer is coming."
Of course Hollywood got hold of it and in 1959 came out with the film (screenplay by Gore Vidal).
I think I'll stick with the play.
You can take the lyrics any way you want.
But... Suddenly Last Summer
I am feeling so much today. It has been nice to have a few days of solitude to just sit with everything. I'm not sure if watching Stephen Colbert all week has made me a tad weepy, or the ending of school and now feeling like I have no purpose and need to figure it out yesterday...
I wonder how Stephen feels right now, actually.
You say goodbye, and I say hello.
It would be too convenient for something to just fall into my lap. But damn, it would be nice.
Then I found this-- I could relate for the most part, but the end was what got me:
I was standing in the kitchen, looking at a list I had made for the weekend. Meals. Activities. Who was coming over. What everyone would enjoy. I had done this for years without thinking about it. I was the one who made things happen. The one who made sure everyone else had a good time. And suddenly… I didn’t want to anymore. Not because I didn’t care. But because I realized I hadn’t been part of the fun in a long time. I was organizing it. Managing it. Making sure it worked. But I wasn’t really in it. So I said something out loud that felt strange even as I said it. “I don’t want to be the one in charge of the fun this summer.” There was a pause. And then I added, “I want to enjoy it too.” It sounds small. But it wasn’t.
Because for years, that role had quietly become part of who I was. Chief planner. Chief coordinator. Chief everything.
And stepping back from it felt uncomfortable. Almost like I was letting something slip. But here’s what surprised me. The more I let go, the more I started to notice what I actually wanted. Not what worked for everyone else. Not what filled the time. But what felt good to me. Some days it was simple. A walk. A quiet morning. Saying no without explaining it.
Other days it meant letting someone else take the lead. Even if they didn’t do it the way I would have. Especially then. It hasn’t been easy. There are moments where I still want to jump back in and take over. Moments where doing less feels like I’m doing something wrong. But I’m starting to see something I didn’t see before.
How much of my life had been shaped by roles I never questioned.
And how easy it is to carry those roles straight into this next chapter… without realizing it.
This phase isn’t just about having more time. It’s about noticing how you’re using it. And whether you’re still living inside patterns that no longer fit.
So I’ve been asking myself something I didn’t used to ask. Not what needs to get done. But where I actually want to be. And what I want that to feel like. I’m still figuring it out. But I know this part is true. I don’t want to just create the life around me anymore. I want to be inside it. What role have you been playing for so long… you forgot to ask if you still want it?
It's been a hot minute since my last entry.
I thought "shine" was an appropriate song for today since it has been raining non-stop for days with no end in sight. It is putting a damper on my desire to jump into summer mode with the cold temps and gray skies.
Today is the last day of school-- officially hitting my one year anniversary of "retirement." The last day of school I made a list of goals that I wanted to accomplish this year. Some of them didn't surface, like "Get a new job" Or "Find a new Identity"-- I guess that is an ongoing thing?
I think if everyone had an opportunity to take a gap year, they would be so much happier with their lives. I know that isn't possible, but it's true.
I had a pretty unbelievable year with lots of things I didn't see coming-- Here are some highlights (Please don't think I'm bragging! I just have a Lust for Lists!):
As of August, I have lost 30 pounds.
Percey, my cat, died and I got 2 new kitties that I adore.
My Kia Soul was totalled but I got a nice new replacement with low mileage and a better year!
I ran the Turkey Trot 5k .
I trained for and ran the mini marathon in Indy.
My Uncle Neil passed away.
I decorated the White House for Christmas.
I saw Gillian Welch and Dave Rawlins,Eric Clapton, Nate Bargatzie, Wilco, Jeff Tweedy, Jim Gaffigan, Andrew Bird and Jake Schmabkuro.
I went to a Bull Riding Event: PBR!
I took 5 classes towards a Certificate in Bar Management.
I was a guest teacher at BHSS for half the school year.
I explored Sedona and Grand Canyon.
I Hashed with my Kennel for the Red Dress Hash.
I joined a book club and have read over 8 books.
I visited a few cities that I have never been to through work.
I watched the Hoosiers win a National Championship.
I met a few great people with whom I connect deeply.
I got my record player fixed and have some great records to play.
I have transformed my relationship with my physical body and am no longer afraid of the mirror.
I received the Educator Legacy Award and will be traveling to Peru in September.
I'm still waiting for the next chapter to begin- but maybe I am already writing that chapter. I suppose I need to continue to just be open to all experiences that come my way. I'll keep shining on!
This was on a summer play list from a few years back. The song uses the Arizona town as a metaphor for a place that traded its authentic identity for commercialization. The song pays homage to Sedona’s history as a major Hollywood filming location for Westerns in the mid-20th century before the industry eventually abandoned it.
Educational travel. It is what I live for.
As I write this, I am on a plane, homeward bound, drinking a double shot rum and coke zero. It has been a long day of travel-- 2 hours from the Canyon to Sedona, 2 hours from Sedona to Pheonix, and now the final leg to Indy and then on to BTown.
I feel sluggish not getting my 14,000 plus steps in and eating way too much on this trip. The training has to commence tomorrow! Still, I know that slowing down on running has helped the healing process of my knees and is a blessing in disguise.
Funny how we get into our bubble of routine that keeps us monitored and on track. A person can live perfectly content within the constructs of their daily lives without any detours or alternate routes... I pity them.
This week I was so fortunate to commune with 34 other like minded souls who love learning and exploring. The cool thing was these people were all WAY older than I was. The oldest Scholar was 94 and still hiking the trails.
I was humbled by these geriactric geniuses who challenged me in my ways of thinking; Who imparted wisdom, just as the Hopi of the area did to their kin, who made me slow down when my impulse was to forge ahead.
The trip gave me pause to consider what is next, and many of the women suggested I become a tour guide for Road Scholars, a Flight Attendant or even a Mule Riding Guide down the Canyon.
Being the youngest person (Besides our AMAZING GUIDE, Kyle) I was there to help offer up seats on the tour busses, give hands when climbing steep stairs and just listening to their travel stories, which make my travel miles pale in comparison.
I saw the sun set over Grand Canyon with hundreds of people who cheered when it happened.
I woke at 4 am to hike to the Canyon to watch it rise in 40 degree temps with blankets over us for heat, to see hundreds of people waiting, as if this was the second coming.
I felt the vibrations in the rocks and trails of Sedona, I danced in the darkness in the wee hours with octogenarians as we watched the stars- as bright and brilliant as I have ever seen in my life, naming each one with a person on the tour.
I howled with so many others as we passed through a tunnel on a train in Verde Canyon, I sang songs in harmony with my fellow scholars("Country Roads" and "Happy Trails" to name just two) with a traveling minstral guitarist) on a train up to the Canyon.
It was a blessing being away from the noise and negativity of daily life-- to unplug and spend time in a place that rejuivinates and invites opportunity to connect to the land, the people and myself.
What a magical experience. What amazing people. I am forever changed.
Bono wrote this song in 2001 when his Da died from cancer. Still, I think the words and especially this video with Bono singing along with himself, showing his raw feelings is priceless.
Take a listen, won't you?
Well, I did it. I accomplished the goal.
And now, just days away from the anniversary of my retirement, look what I accomplished.
Life is a river--not a straight line. The paths are crossed for reasons we do not know.
Is it to inspire? To motivate? To consider the possibility of other? To choose yourself? I would love to hear your side of this conversation. Maybe someday.
The race was a testimony to my will and determination. And even though afterwards I could not walk (thank God for upper body strength) and am still struggling now to climb steps and get up from a seated position, I am already signed up for next year's race.
It's been quite the year.
I feel so disconnected. I've been literally running and can't keep up with my own life. Still, I know some are going through transformation and need space and time.
That doesn't mean I'm not rooting from the sidelines-- even when I feel shut out of the process and want to be there for you,
feeling mostly that I am not needed-- in fact, maybe in the way---
Not part of it. Maybe I never was.
I wish for real positive change and look forward to that reminiscent cup of tea...
When you are no longer afraid to trust yourself.
And you let me in.
What do you need from me?
Say what you need to say-- Even if your hands are shaking/ and your faith is broken/
Even if your eyes are closing/ Do it with your heart wide open.
THE SOLDIER was in town to see his college aged daughter and to attend the annual ROTC Awards banquet. We met up for drinks and has a chance to talk about our families and our lives--victories and setbacks alike. It is rare to know someone with such character and confidence. THE SOLDIER shared stories from our past, which made me laugh-- and some that made me feel bad. I realised that I was reckless with peoples' hearts and for that I am sorry. Fortunately for me, THE SOLDIER was forgiving.
His infectious laugh, dimpled grin and sparkle in his eyes has not faded-- ready for mischief even now.
Because connection can't be forced. It doesn't shy away or make excuses. It doesn't second guess or overthink. It doesn't hide. It doesn't disappear.
It is present. It trusts its instincts. It leaves space.
It just is.
I run my first Mini Marathon tomorrow. I've done the work and am trying to mentally prepare. I just wish my knees would cooperate! Here is my playlist if you are looking for something to motivate your workouts! Mini Marathon
Susan Tedeschi has the most soulful voice. Tedeschi Trucks Band is playing this summer at what we used to call Deer Creek up in Noblesville. Great cover!
My Confession today that I need to share is actually about my obsession with Vintage and Classic cars and trucks.
For most people, they see a beautiful person and their gaze follows, for me-- it's cars.
I love the smell, the sound, the look, the steering wheel, the headlights, the colors....
If I win the lottery, my first purchase will be a vintage car.
I have to skeet but will return to this later. In the meantime, here I am basking in one:
Another Theme Song for Me. Brings back so many memories. Do you know this one? Sounds like me and my lust for challenges and terrifing adrenaline- induced activities!
THE TEACHER , who was a true confession, introduced me to lots of Irish/Scottish/UK bands and put them on mixed tapes for me. He was of Irish descent and proud of it. Lost his Dah when he was a boy and never truly recovered from it. We dated casually and watched Quentin Tarantino movies together. He was a gentle soul. We are still in touch via the Facebook--a good egg!
I am not sure when my lust for attempting things I couldn't or in most cases, SHOULDN'T started. There has always been a bit of a daredevil in my system, but I certainly didn't get that from home. Today's crazy happening *might* get me arrested. Or in a fight. Or both. I will be running through the trails and streets of IU campus with 28 other hashers all of us decked out in crazy red dresses. You will see everything from full blown ball gowns to scantily clad dresses on grown men. We generally meander around ( well, the Hare's lay trail before hand) and run through Little 5 parties. One year we ran around the football stadium as well.Talk about a rush. Nothing like it. I have noticed that this year is particulary active with parties and police presence. Students basically blocked Kirkwood last night and the police were called to disperse the crowds. So today will be interesting!
It has been over 10 years since I have been to a Hash and I can already feel the adrenaline rising.
I also like to check out houses that are for sale without the help of a relator. It is especially easy to gain entry after an open house, where the relator shows people around and forgets to lock the back door. Of course the front has the lockbox, so no dice, but the back-- they often forget about it. I got into this house-- boy oh boy--- if only... https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/870-S-Woodscrest-Dr-Bloomington-IN-47401/94519150_zpid/
I think part of the reason I do these things (and so much more) is that I HAVE to experience everything in life possible before I no longer can. Somewhere inside of me knows that I have a short shelf life and to quote The Flaming Lips, "all we have is now."
It's ok, I am totally fine with it. In fact, I almost got into a fatal car accident last night (my friend was driving and she felt SO bad). I was unphased. I just said, "Becca, it's not quite my time. Still too much to do."
I don't know if I will go so far as to jump out of a plane, but I am always loooking for the next experience that will light me up like a pinball machine. The Mini next week will be a mental and physical challenge that will test every part of myself. It scares me to my core-- but my will is undaunted.
What are you doing that scares you to your core?
I was recently asked, for the first time that I can recall, what do you need?
What do I need from you? What can you give to me that I currently don't have? Something that I am lacking in my life or with myself that you can offer?
What do I need?
I found that simple sentence to be the most selfless thing a person could say to me. It was like surrender. You would be willing to give me something that I need. Not just something that I want, but something that I am without that would make things better.
It would be selfish to answer that question. I am not a taker; I am by nature a giver, so the very idea of someone else giving me the thing that I need was in itself the thing that I needed.
Would you do that for me? I am not worthy of even sharing with you the thing that I need even if I knew what it was.
I suppose when you go without the thing that you need most you put it aside. I want to know what YOU need from me.
I think that what we both need from each other is Emotional Intimacy. No?
It's Official.
I booked the tour today. 7 days. Ollantaytambo Ruins, Huaca Pucllana, Sacred Valley, Sacsayhuman Ruins, Kenko and Tambomachay, Machu Picchu and more. This will feel similar to my Pilgrimage to Guatemala, where I communed with the Indigenous People of Chichipate and learned of a Guatemalan genocide that took place there (Maya Genocide). I have a fascination for how populations or even civilizations disappear-- I explored Poland and Germany to experience the most heinous death camps of all time. I visited the place of Christ's birth, torture and crucifiction. And now, the Spanish conquest of MP.
I was re-baptised in the River Jordan. I rode a camel within feet of the pyramids. I rappelled into a cave of water in the Yucatan. It's the Year of the Fire Horse and I am feeling it!
I took some excerpts from one of my favorite Chiliean poets, Pablo Neruda, from his Ode to Machu Picchu here:
VI
Then up the ladder of the earth I climbed through the barbed jungle’s thickets until I reached you Macchu Picchu. Tall city of stepped stone, home at long last of whatever earth had never hidden in her sleeping clothes. In you two lineages that had run parallel met where the cradle both of man and light rocked in a wind of thorns. Mother of stone and sperm of condors. High reef of the human dawn.
This was the habitation, this is the site: here the fat grains of maize grew high to fall again like red hail. The fleece of the vicufia was carded here to clothe men’s loves in gold, their tombs and mothers, the king, the prayers, the warriors. Up here men’s feet found rest at night near eagles’ talons in the high meat-stuffed eyries. And in the dawn with thunder steps they trod the thinning mists, touching the earth and stones that they might recognize that touch come night, come death.
VII
And yet a permanence of stone and language upheld the city raised like a chalice in all those hands: live, dead and stilled, aloft with so much death, a wall, with so much life, struck with flint petals: the everlasting rose, our home, this reef on Andes, its glacial territories.
VIII
Come up with me, American love. Kiss these secret stones with me. The torrential silver of the Urubamba makes the pollen fly to its golden cup. The hollow of the bindweed’s maze, the petrified plant, the inflexible garland, soar above the silence of these mountain coffers.
IX
In this steep zone of flint and forest, green stardust, jungle-clarified, Mantur, the valley, cracks like a living lake or a new level of silence. Come to my very being, to my own dawn, into crowned solitudes. The fallen kingdom survives us all this while, And on this dial the condor’s shadow cruises as ravenous as would a pirate ship.
X
I question you, salt of the highways, show me the trowel; allow me, architecture, to fret stone stamens with a little stick, climb all the steps of air into the emptiness, scrape the intestine until I touch mankind. Macchu Picchu did you lift stone above stone on a groundwork of rags? coal upon coal and, at the bottom, tears? fire-crested gold, and in that gold, the bloat dispenser of this blood?
I just happened upon this song and WOW. The words! The sound!
This song totally describes me and my adventurous spirit. You gotta take this one in!
I have the travel bug again and happened upon some money to pay for it. I've been researching lots of places but landed on Peru. So, in September, if all goes well, I will be checking another place off my bucket list. Lima, Cusco, Yucay/Sacred Valley and-- best of all-- MACHU PICCHU!
It has been a dream to hike it for over a decade when I read a National Geographic piece featuring MP I was determined to go. The Incas, The Mayans and the Aztec Empires are of great interest to me and I have been lucky enough to visit Uxmal (Yucatán), Cobá (Quintana Roo)and Chichén Itzá (Yucatán). I've also visited Tikal and Lamanai in Guatemala! The last on my list from Mexico is Tulum (Quintana Roo). That will happen some day..before my knees give out. In the meantime-- I'm Machu Picchu bound!
Wow. Powerful Protest Song with graphic lyrics and photos. Take a listen. Tom Waits-- you still got it.
How about that last Confession? Too much? I thought the blog needed a little spice.
Tonight marks the eve before my girl was born 23 years ago. I only had to push hard for about 30 minutes and she was here. Of course, there were contractions for about 5 hours and a scare that the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck that brought on a moment of concern, but she was resilient. I feel for women who went through hours of labor and consider myself one of the lucky ones. She has become a kind, smart and lovely woman, and my best friend. Growing up only knowing her parents as separate was most likely the thing that made her ok. We did everything together. I loved to invent fun things for us to do, especially in the summer when we were both off for vacation. Now that she is older, I am happy when she calls for advice or just to vent from her day.
She came to visit with me and see the kitties and was filled with such joy. Tomorrow I will retrace the day of her birth and celebrate with her at 6:37 PM, the exact time she was born. Happy (almost) Birthday, my sweet Lilly Ruth!
FUN FACT: If you see a house for sale, check the back door because occasionally it will be unlocked by accident, offering a free tour of the house. Yep, that's right. I have been lucky enough to see some pretty cool houses just by trying the back door. more later...
Today's Confession is a tad rated R, just saying.
I'll call him STARDUST .
Stardust worked for me as a designer for a few of my shows. I also got him hooked up as a fellow DJ where he spun Jazz records. He was also in the October zone (you'll have to go back to previous posts, if you haven't been keeping up to what that means. I think it was October 7). He always had an adventure planned-- and often times what we did was tresspassing. I would skip school on a beautiful autumn day to have a picnic after exploring a quarry, hike Yellowwood, climb Cedar Bluff, walk Sycamore Landtrust, traipse through the Sculpture Gardens in Solisbury. And in all of these places we had steamy sex. It was exhilarating and exciting, knowing that someone could come along any second and catch us. We didn't care.
One time he was on air and I came over to the studio wearing only a trench coat. He found a long song to play on air and, well, you know. Sex.
STARDUST showed me what sex was supposed to be like.
He was the one who left me stranded in the D.C. Museum with my baggage locked in a locker. He was manipulative and cruel to me--but the sex was well... too bad you can't get equal parts good sex and good, kind person.
Occasionally I will get a post card from STARDUST from Germany or some far away place he is visiting. Or an email will land in my inbox wishing me happy birthday signed:
OLIVE JUICE (If you mouth the words it looks like I Love You.
Wow well, the words. the words. THE SOLDIER called me yesterday. We haven't spoken in over 5 years but we picked up just like 30 odd years had never passed. And he still calls me Cat.
Some people are just present. Always.
Thanks, SOLDIER. I needed that.
Another from the Sub Pop label. The Shepherd's Dog came out in 2007. This is my vibe today. The clouds outside have my vibration at a low level.
My girl is in the middle of her MCAT. I am feeling her nervousness in the pit of my stomach. Feel a bit like crying or throwing up-- or both.
ACCEPTANCE
I still have a few Confessions yet to chronicle. As I start to think back, some new ones cropped up. One or two are significant and I have so much to say I need to narrow it down. Others were a blip on the screen. Still, I remember all of them and how they made me feel. I remember feeling unsexy. I remember being told I was ugly. I remember hearing that I was average. I remember being rejected. I remember being abandoned. I remember being ghosted. It's no wonder women hate themselves when wanting validation from the opposite sex.
I don't know what to do with compliments today. Fortunately, I don't get many.
If someone told me I was beautiful or sexy or desirable I wouldn't believe them anyway. How do unlearn all of those ingrained thoughts and feelings?
This confession was high school again. THE MODEL came around soon after THE SHOWMAN told me I was like raw fish. I was a junior and it was the winter of 85.The MODEL was a transfer student who drove a Volkswagon Beetle, smoked cigarettes and seemed to have some kind of checkered past. He showed up mysteriously and disappeared just as cryptic. He worked for the Helen Wells Modelling Agency in Indy and was tall, with dark straight hair and dark brown eyes. He had more of a bad boy look than a clean cut preppy or rugged muscular vibe. His dad owned a restaurant called Fuddruckers in Castelton and would take me there on dates. I'm pretty sure he had a side hustle selling weed, as he would be gone without explaination and had older friends who lived in apartments in Indy who he hung out with, and always had a wad of cash.
He seemed much older than most juniors, but he had a kind disposition--at least when it came to me.And his smile was dreamy. Ha Dreamy. But it was!
I remember driving in his Beetle--it was cold-- he had the window down because he was smoking and the song Broken Wings by Mister Mister was playing. How's that for a crystalized memory? My 16th birthday was coming up and he was going to take me out-- but he stood me up. Mom had made a pink frosted birthday cake with roses on it. So, I made my wish on that 16th birthday feeling let down.
I don't think he finished out the year at our high school. Maybe he got a big modeling job and moved on, or whatever bad shit he was into got the best of him.
Ah, the Sub Pop label. I remember this song! Great harmonies.Take a listen, won't you? Today's Confession was short lived. Another Beautiful One. THE FIREMAN
It was fall break and the son of a colleague (he was late to enter the teaching world) was student teaching at our school. We became fast friends. He stopped by my room at the end of the day to see what plans I had for the break. Of course, I had none, so he invited me to meet his friend and throw darts at Upstairs. THE FIREMAN and my friend both graduated from the school I was teaching at and he was in town for the weekend to catch up. The night led to beers and darts, followed by dinner at Tro-Ho and back to my friend's mom's condo, where he was currently staying while student teaching. The conversations flowed as did the beer, and pretty soon it was too late and we were all too wasted to drive, so we all crashed there.
THE FIREMAN was one of the smartest people I have ever met. As a kid, he would read encyclopedias for fun. He would start with one letter and keep going until the whole set was finished, and then read them again.
I remember going to the Farmer's Market with him later that weekend, and we were standing next to his jeep. It was getting warm and he took his shirt off right in the middle of Kirkwood. Needless to say, what they say about Firemen is absolutely true. Strong, sexy, athletic, smart. He had it all.
I would drive up to see him on an Sunday afternoon, stay over and leave early Monday to get to work. It was an hour drive, so not terrible, but 4 am wake up was a beast. One time when I came up, I think it was Thanksgiving, he was changing the sheets to his bed. I guess that doesn't mean much, but later that night, I found a long black strand of hair that attached itself to my calf.
I didn't say anything-- we never did say we were exclusive. But it did give me pause. Being a serial dater you learn that there is a time limit. It's three months. If you make past the three month threshold, you may have a chance.
It was coming up on Christmas and my cat was not well. I decided that I needed to put her down, and asked if he would drive down and do it with me. He agreed, but the day I had to do it, he called and said his Jeep was in the shop and he couldn't make it after all. Or ever again. THE FIREMAN extinguished me. We almost made it to three months, but I knew it would never work out. It was the worst Christmas present I ever received. I cried for a week straight.
I saw that he married not long after. She was strikingly beautiful, tan and fit,
With beautiful long, black hair.
Reckoning was one of the albums I used to play on repeat-- that and Murmur. Those early albums were spot on. The guitar has a signature sound frozen in time-- 1984. I came back today and played the whole album. 7 Chinese Brothers--- man. I'll post it as well. Such great new wave music came out of the 80's and I loved the shit out of it.
Who shall I write about today? I had someone in mind, but it's a long story with an interesting end and I am pressed for time today. I read something that stuck with me--
Retirement is not an ending
It is a transition.
And identity is not fixed.
It evolves.
I hope that I am intentionally building my next identity.
I think I am .
I have to come back to this post... ok, back. On tonight's agenda in Spiritworld will be Brandy and Other Fruit Based Spirits. We are down to just 3 on the call, and have all been spending every Tuesday night together since August. You would think there would be more comraderie but these people are stiffs. I get drunk with strangers and feel like I'm the only one who is having fun. Oh well.
Confessions of THE THEOLOGIAN
This goes back to high school. At the time I didn't know anything about the Law of Attraction, and still don't really. But it seems that is what happened here. My best friend at the time was bi-curious guy pal (we were always paired together in shows- since fifth grade, so we got to know each other well-- he was my dance partner in show choir as well. Also, he was born October 5, so you know it was fated). Anyway, we were seniors and there was some school wide convocation we all attended. As we were leaving, we both saw THE THEOLOGIAN. He was a junior--a lovely, tall, thin fair haired, blue-eyed darling. I think both of us gasped as he passed us by. My guy pal stated that he was going to find out who he was. Not before I do! So it became a bit of a competition.
I ended up winning, but only because THE THEOLOGIAN and I were in a show together (One where I had to strip down to a negligee onstage-- the 80's, right?). He introduced me to so much music-- and deep dive into U2, The Call, Sting's Bring on the Night, Amnesty International concerts like Secret Policeman's Ball. It was 1987 and we drove in his green vintage Mercedes, drank IBC rootbeer and played Paul Simon's Graceland and U2's Joshua Tree. He was a devout Christian, and he took me to his church's youth group bible study a few times. After one session I told my parents they were fakers and frauds-- not real Christians.
That went over well.
But school was almost over and I was headed to IU while he stayed at home. We stayed friends and wrote letters back and forth- and he said he met someone. She happened to live in my cul-de-sac. I hated those holidays that first year when I would come home to see his car in her driveway. Blue eyed boy with this Brown eyed girl-- the sweetest thing
I still can't listen to that song.
After graduation, THEOLOGIAN went to Taylor U to study theology and then later Seattle School of Theology and Psychology. I am pretty sure he came out as gay. Or celibate. I wonder when he finally stopped dating women. I am sure coming out and grappling with faith was a struggle for him.
And I thought the reason we only got to 1st base was because of his beliefs.
One of my all-time favorite songs. I never really listened to the lyrics until today. The words seemed somewhat appropriate.
Today's Confession I'll call THE PEDANTIC
I met THE PEDANTIC you guessed it, on an educational trip to Rome, London, Paris, Normandy and Florence. I was a chaperone taking my first trip with students oveseas and learning the ropes so that in the future, I could be in charge of organizing and eventually leading more trips. THE PEDANTIC was also on tour leading his own group and so our groups were combined. The PEDANTIC was from Upstate New York and was recently divorced. His sister was also on tour as a chaperone. He was all swagger and of course all the high school girls swooned over him. His doting, protective sister had Resting Bitch Face-- well, actually she was a total bitch, so it was just Bitch Face to me.
I am not sure when things started-- on these trips you are constantly on the move and communicating with tour guides and such. But since we were taking a bus to different countries, there was plenty of drive time to get to know people. THE PEDANTIC taught AP European History and liked to enlighten everyone who would listen to all of his embellished facts. He also used words incorrectly like IRREGARDLESS. Ugh.
The sister did not like me. And she made it abundantly clear. Still, we managed to go off on our own to explore cities. In Florence, we got lost down alleyways holding hands and finding secluded restaurants to kiss and drink wine.
Our last night in London, my group had to leave at 2 AM and his at 4 AM- we stayed up talking and kissing. But what do you do when the trip is over? We did the long distance calling thing. He suggested we both buy a copy of The Kama Sutra and would read it over the phone (I didn't have a smart phone with facetime) to each other. He would fly down to visit and come to school with me and hang out with the other Euro teacher through the day. He talked about moving to BTown and going back to school It wasn't practical, as he had 3 boys and one had a serious learning disability. He shared that he grew up in poverty and would sometimes have to go without or sell belongings for the family to get by. He told me about Marshmallow Fluff and how you add it to peanut butter and put it on bread. That's what he would eat as a child.
THE PEDANTIC didn't last long-- because how could it, really? But he burned me to my core. He told me that he met a woman doctor in a Starbucks and they were getting married. Fools Rush In.
Oh, I just remembered, the sister's name was
Melissa.
Sometimes going back to a tune like this is just the salve for the heart chakra. It's a peaceful, quiet morning and I am watching the rain fall from my office, window open and breeze blowing. I should be studying, but I want to put on some records and read instead.
My girl is coming over today! I was going to take her to her first Hash this afternoon, but I don't want to injure myself (or herself) if we hash in rough terrain and take a tumble. Bummer.
Going back through these confessions, I really hope folks don't think I am a terrible witch. Or a clueless bimbo. Maybe I was clueless at 18, but this is just the mosaic of my dating life in snapshots. To be fair, I have met men whose scent attracted me to them bigtime. I just know there is a particular pheromone smell or smells (maybe it's a dominate alpha scent?) that don't/doesn't work for me personally.
And it isn't something you can say while trying to break it off. " I can't stand the smell of you.." That would devastate. So this one I will call THE BOOKEND
We met in college--had a casual date senior year and as luck would have it, landed at the same hotel in Daytona for spring break. I was on a break from THE SOLDIER and just wanted to have a good time with my roommates for our last hurrah. But THE BOOKEND was persistant, and he kissed me that first night at the wet t-shirt contest ( of which my roommate won) and NO, I didn't participate!. I wanted nothing to do with him down in Florida. I have a picture of him somewhere on that first night in Daytona-- crazy times in a white t-shirt. He was cute, but the musky smell...
Decades later, I taught his eldest daughter in school. She was a comedic genius and I helped her through stuff while her parents (THE BOOKEND) were getting divorced. I had no idea that her dad was this guy I went out with in college. No idea. He showed up to one of her shows and re-introduced himself to me. After she graduated, he asked me out and we dated about a month. He said I was the last woman he kissed before he met his wife and the first woman he kissed after he got divorced from his wife.
It sounds so poetic. I just couldn't get past the musky smell.
He married a girl from his high school that he knew. I think they are well.
I guess her pheromone radar isn't as sensitive as mine. In fact, maybe she likes it!
Sea Change is a masterful work of art. He wrote it after a breakup with his longtime fiance. I saw Beck open for The Flaming Lips with this album. I was pregnant with Lilly and very depressed. This album captures my mood right now. Take a listen to the whole thing if you have some time. I, with all of the best intentions want to share these intimate parts and songs that are beautiful and heartbreaking and sometimes inspiring. My hope is you can hear them in the same way I do.
Guess I'm Doing Fine
Lately everything is making me angry. People, bad drivers, the cats, loud unexpected noises, the fucking news, my scale, my body, getting parking tickets, stupid, pointless conversations, wasted time, shit that needs to be done around the house, banality..
I did manage to run the full seven miles for this week--twice. It's the only thing that gets me out of my head these days. I say to myself, "This is what mile 1 feels like. Oh, this is what mile 3 feels like, I have to pee, This is what mile 6 feels like, I can no longer feel my legs, Nothing hurts, I am not feeling anything right now."
I wish I wasn't feeling anything right now.
There is no sunken treasure/ rumored to be/ wrapped inside my ribs/ in a sea black with ink/
I am so out of tune with you
I've been feeling out of tune. I am creating distractions. I AM doing the work-- but I am impatient. I crave answers. I seek affirmations. I desire feedback. Yes or No. Tell me the dates. Live up to your promises. Do your fucking job. Put in the time and the work. Know your truth. Help me to understand. See Me.
I'm challenging some of the social constructs and conventionalities of certain ideas. But the people I commune with wouldn't understand because they are part of those systems. So I keep it to myself. It's a lot to carry around. And the heaviness is too much.
Today I got up early and worked out (I work at 11 today). I love driving in the early morning when the grass is dewey and the fog obstructs the view. Upon my return home driving East I came home to this (see below). Of course, the pictures never do the landscape justice, but it was a glorious sight to see.
Anyway, miss you.
I think Mark Knopfler is the bomb. And to think I was this close to joining the Roller Derby. My name was going to be Teeny Mussolini. Those bouts were a hoot to watch! I think the main reason I didn't join was I didn't want to lose my teeth!
This Confession really stemmed from skating. My first slow dance on the skating rink from the church youth group outing and the song was "Endless Love". He was a boy from church I met at a Lock In. Remember those? I'll bet they don't have those anymore. Too dangerous! I can't even say that we dated because I was in sixth grade--he was in seventh. He'd call and there would be dead air for long periods of time on the line. I dreaded those calls.
We were both cross country runners, so sometimes we went running. He told me I had an unsexy walk. Dude, I'm eleven years old! It's something you don't forget.
Sixth grade was vicious. I was still wearing my hair in pony tails. I wore my blonde hair down only one day-- picture day and everyone flipped out. We moved from our elementary school to the junior high and my safe bubble of friends were scattered. My homeroom had a lot of the popular kids in it. I rememeber the boys in our class came up with a ranking system for all the girls in the class on how hot we were. The girl who was a ten had the biggest boobs in the class.
I was a six.
There was a red haired freckly ruddy football player who seemed to be the ring leader of our class. He called me ugly to my face. Andy Knapp. Yep, I will name names this time. Thanks Andy for that. I just looked him up on the Facebook. So dumb he doesn't know how to make his posts private. He looks like a big douche.
By the way, after sixth grade, my lucky number has always been six.
Here's my vibe today. Chill.
I've noticed that my songs aren't able to play lately. I've got to figure out that glitch. The past few songs I have posted are beautiful eclectic melodies.
The earth is waking up and it brings me joy. Is it weird that the smell of someone cutting their grass makes me so happy?
And don't get me started on the smell of chlorine for the pool! The windows are open and the fresh air soothes my soul.
Today's confession: THE GEARHEAD
Wednesdays used to be my radio show-therapy- and then wine bar night. B-town had an awesome wine bar that offered live music and tapas and an atmosphere beyond compare. It was my favorite spot to decompress, meet friends and spill the tea, or to celebrate big victories. I knew the owners and most of the bartenders ( most of them were music majors or opera singers bc they could pronounce some of the foreign wines correctly). I was still married when I started going to Tuto. So the bar got me through the rough times and then the aftermath. At the time, my hair salon was located downstairs, and I suggested to the owners of both places to offer glasses of wine to women getting their hair done. I recall a sad day when I was getting my hair done and working through hard stuff that I sat in the chair and sobbed. My stylist didn't say anything, she just let me cry. It might have been not long after I fled the house to a nearby neighbor and spent the night in the women's shelter. She didn't make me pay for the cut. She just gave me a hug and sent me on my way.
Whooosh. Where did that memory come from?
So GEARHEAD worked in IT for IU and had all the gadgets and wore them proudly. He had the phone thing that attached to your ear and he wore those toe shoes. He was a smartie but was a little off, maybe on the spectrum. I wasn't attracted to him in the slightest. But he was a wine drinker and he had a wad of cash. Oh, and his birthday fit into the December 4 people (remember what I said about meeting people around certain dates? yeah.) Gearhead would meet me at Tuto on Wednesdays (that was the only time we really ever hung out) and we would have a few and then go back to my place, where he would bring over several bottles of expensive reds.
I woke up many a Thursday morning with a massive hangover back in those days.
Again, it wasn't as if we were a couple, although I am sure he would have wanted more. I don't think he was able to express feelings very well, and in my state at the time, I wouldn't know how to deal with them.
One time when I was really sad, he took me to a nail salon. I think it was when the Colts were going to the Superbowl. He brought a bottle of champagne and we both got pedicures. he had his toes painted with Colts colors---blue and white.
Thing about him-- he didn't live far from my Westminster condo, so he would walk home after a night of debauchery. He never let me in his house. Never suggested we go to his place. I wonder if it was a total mess or what. I always wondered about that.
So after Tuto closed and we were donesville, he started to hang out as a regular at THE DAD'S haunt. I always wondered if they ever talked about me. I'm sure they did. That feels dirty.
I have never seen GEARHEAD with a woman since and feel bad for him. I have that effect on men that get too close to the flame. Did I break him? I'm so sorry.
I really dig this song. It was playing on my way to the Y this morning. A beautiful sexy song. Enjoy!
My new glasses make me look like a combination of Rachel Maddow, Jamie Lee Curtis and Macaulay Culkin's younger brother, Kieran in Home Alone where he plays Kevin's nerdy cousin!
Today I ventured out to try a new winery up in Bargersville of all places. Most of these Indiana wineries cater to the sweet fruit wine drinkers, but this one had a few dry wines that were palatable. The vibe was chill and the place also offered a soup and charcuterie in what appeared to be an old barn at one time. The Mallow Run Winery sits out on a large patch of land with a small music venue. I would say this would be a perfect first date kind of place. The homemade jalepeno cheddar bread was amazing (even if I am in training) I tried it anyway.
Man, what a feeling to not have to prepare for school on a Sunday and just enjoy the beautiful spring day without the Sunday Scaries! I know my theatre friends are under serious pressure and stress right now. Big Love to them as they gear up for the big show of their seasons.
As for me, I focus on training. I will attempt 7-8 miles tomorrow. I had an easy 1 mile run today with 5 minute intervals after and a hard lift. I feel strong. I feel good. But I desperately need to up my mileage this month. NO EXCUSES!
I stumbled across this beautiful little melody this morning. I don't even know this artist, but I like what I am hearing. It's a simple song but it lifts the spirits. Take a listen.
It is a cold and rainy spring day here in the mid-west. I am feeling a touch lazy but content. It has been a wild 8 months. I am coming up on the anniversay of my retirement in May. I really didn't feel "retired" until August, when everyone went back to school, so I am not counting the first 3 months--summer vacation, don't you know?
Man, it has been nothing like what I pictured it would be. You really cannot plan your life precisely. I am looking back at the goals I set pre-retirement and much of it didn't play out the way I thought it would. Still, I can cross things off my bucket list and I have seen some great shows, great cities, and had some adventures to boot.
goal 1: Train for the Mini Marathon.
This has been the most challenging but the most positive goal that I have been working on. It stalled out at the beginning of summer with injuries that I have felt off target ever since. But I went from 153 pounds and not being able to run a mile to now 128 pounds and can walk/run 6 miles. I have a month to go, and I need to keep up the pace.
goal 2: Find Purposful Work
This goal didn't play out exactly as I thought it would. But there must be other things in the mix that have not yet been revealed to me. Still, working the long-term sub gig has been extremely fufilling and has kept me connected with the one steady in my life- my-school. I have another long term position set for the month of May through the end of the school year. Here's hoping my other side gig will offer me some work travel opportunities this summer.
goal 3: Create Art
While on a work trip, I came across a picture hanging in the lobby of a hotel that inspired me. Since then, I have created 3 pieces and have started a 4th.
I have been writing every day since January. It's obviously not much substance, but it is an exercise in repetition that is a good outlet for me. My creativity was key to life as a teacher, and I need that to be ever present now. I also need to get back into playing my guitars. I have not been working on my house projects as much as I had hoped--plus with less money it's hard to justify creating a beautiful space right now. Someday soon.
Here are other cool things I have done in the past 10 months:
Visited Madison, WI, Orlando, FL, St. Louis, MO, Corydon, IN, Louisville, KY, Columbus, OH, Washington, D.C., Chicago, IL, Muncie, IN, Pasadena, CA
Saw Eric Clapton, Jeff Tweedy, Gillian Welch, Jim Gaffigan, Nate Bargetzie, and a Candlelight Christmas Carol concert, did the traditional Nutcracker Ballet-- will see Andrew Bird, Wilco and David Byrne in the upcoming months. I am also headed to Sonoma and taking the train to The Grand Canyon in May.
Visited various wineries and distilleries around Indiana and have tasted hundreds of different wines, beers and spirits for the completion of my Beverage Management Career Certificate, of which I have been taking classes since August. This experience has been a game changer for me and my knowledge of beer, wine and spirits.
Visited the Cave System of Southern Indiana
Decorated the White House for Christmas
Experienced a Professional Bull Riding Competition
Hiked the trails of Clifty Falls, Brown County St. Park, Dunes of Indiana
Saw a Cubs game in Wrigley Field
Joined a book club and have read 6 books (I know, not a lot, but for me it is!)
Ran a 5K Turkey Trot
Walked for Alzheimers
Went to 3 IU Football games and 5 IU Men's Basketball games
Toured The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame
Heard Pete Buttigieg speak at IU
Participated in the Womensbuild
I fixed my record player and am now playing vinyl!
Applied for a Legacy Award through Road Scholars (fingers crossed!)
