Trump is Trash!

 

Why complain when you can do something productive? And I intend to do just that. In a moment of brilliance, or possibly insanity, I bought the above raccoon costume. I have a plan. I'm going to get our old school metal trashcan and make a Trump dummy to go in it. Then, and here's the good part...I'm going to put it on our front lawn, don the raccoon costume and march around with a picket sign that says, "Trump is Trash!" 

We live on a sort of busy corner, so I'm hoping if I go out every night during rush hour, I should get some lookers. Not sure what kind of response this will get, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to have a blast doing it! I figure since reason has been thrown out the window, why try to be reasonable? He doesn't like the rulebook, well motherf#$&er, neither do I.

Ride Again!

 

I've now survived Covid, menopause and a divorce. Pretty sure I can get through this Trump crap. I feel like I need to catch you all up on the Ten S situation (and yet pretty sure most of you know most of this business).

Whew. Where to start? Lots of loud music, and less loud music. Life is much tamer, and weirdly wilder than it used to be.  Even before Covid, I went out less. And oddly, that was a good thing. It meant I was really happy in my little cocoon. And then Covid brought so many things into focus.

It's entirely possible that I'm happier now than I've ever been. I have someone to love who loves me, my kids aren't really kids anymore, my job is morphing and I'm actively putting myself out to pasture in a gentle way, and I'm more at ease with myself. Getting old can suck, but some of it is fucking awesome.

Two things that I could never have imagined 10 years ago have put a spring in my step. If you have followed my life, you know what they are, debate and wildlife rehabbing. One totally cerebral and one that is all love and fuzzy shit. I feel like a complete human being. I feel like I have a place in the world, a place in nature,  a place in time, a place in our future. That is sublime to me. Why does shit have to ache so much to get to this point? 

So, I'm really hoping that some of you will ride again. Some rides you get on and they're OK, you move to the next one. But, some rides are so awesome, you grab your friend's hand and race back through the queues to get right back on, laughing all the while, just as excited, because you know you're going to love every second. I'm buckling up for the second ride. Eyes closed, hands in the air, riding again.

This Kitty is Feelin' Bitchy

 

'sup, bitches! I'm back and haven't changed, well, except for the extra wrinkles in my fur and the extra kitty yummy tummy. 

I literally feel like I'm holding my breath everyday. Waiting for another shoe to drop. No one told me there were more than two shoes. 

I miss my friends. I miss the community we had here. I'm sick of the book of faces. Too much of everything. Except not enough of my friends. We've all been reduced to one or two sentences. Words are all we have right now. Words and our vote. I want to hear your voices. I miss them.

Clawing My Way Out

I am slowly clawing my way out of the hole. It was a rut that became a hole. It hasn't been easy with two teenagers who are trying to find their own roads. It hasn't been easy without much change in my pocket. But, thanks to Julia Buckley, my body is getting stronger and thanks to the love of friends and family, my soul is too. It's been a long few years. I've felt more alone than ever, but I've learned to turn that into a reason to move forward. Amazing things have happened when I've least expected it. I know I can keep going. I know that I am strong enough and I know I am getting stronger.

Too Many Keys

Keys used to be a source of comfort for me. They meant home. They meant safety. Right now, there are too many of them and it is leaving me feeling homeless. I have keys to my old house, keys to a friend's house and keys to the place I've been living for the past nine months. Now I'm moving again and picking up more keys.

Even though I know that this move is for the good and will be best for me, I am struggling with my loss of sense of home. There really is no place I would call home right now. I know I'll make a home for myself again in the future, but right now, I feel like I don't have one. I feel beholding to a lot of people. I feel like I can't stand on my own two feet. I know I'm over dramatizing this, but I'm scared. Scared to leave yet another place that has felt sort of like home, but isn't. Scared that I will feel this way for far too long. Homesick for the place I used to live, where I raised my kids. Just homesick.

Shoulder of the Road

I've spent most of my life developing what I thought was a comfortable rut. I knew the ride was bumpier than expected. I adjusted the shocks on my car. I drove a little slower. I turned up the stereo to block out the noise.

Many years later I've realized that I was in a bad rut. The bridge ahead was out. I've pulled onto the shoulder to figure out what to do next.

I've been amazed by how many people have come to the aid of my vehicle. I've been overwhelmed at the options available for recharting my course. I may even just need to rest in my car at the side of the road for awhile before I make any decisions about where to go.

The reality of the situation is that after driving along uncomfortably for a very long time, the ride made me weary. I'm not sure if I need a new car or if I just need to find a new road. Either way, I am in the midst of the biggest change of my life. I believe that change is good.

Lost: One Life, Please Return to Owner

OK, so the school thing is almost over, but not quite. So the work thing has grown three heads and become a life-sucking beast. Between the two of them, I've given up on sleep, eating and having anything that resembles a life. Most women my age would be totally psyched to lose five pounds in a month. I'm personally horrified. I wasn't trying to or even wanting to lose weight. It was just a consequence of far too many 12 hour plus days of work followed by hours of schoolwork. I wish I was happy about it, but instead I'm a little scared because I don't feel healthy and I miss eating something that resembles food. I'm here to tell you folks, goldfish crackers are not a tasty dinner.

Miss You

Poor kitty. Every time I think I can do it all on my own, I realize that when I am done, I am all alone. I miss my friends that write. I miss writing something other than a paper for school, which I am almost done with! I miss my friends that rock. I miss being connected even when my life offers me few chances. I miss all of you.

You can all thank INXS for a sharp blow to my head that made me remember something that I loved. Life is funny that way.