when i was at #UCO i took a public speaking course – it was during the summer and a sophomore level course, so by no means was it intellectually challenging; it was often times quite funny. the professor, at first impression seemed like a ditzy, unorganized, soccer mom that was addicted to #Adderall and Starbucks; she was actually very well read, quite well spoken, and a seasoned speaker.
our last assignment was a speech to last 3-5mins, with visual aides and media. i spoke about a photographer, it was awesome, i got an “A”. that is not the story. the story about a fellow classmate, you’ve had him in at least one or your classes – the slacker, uninterested, bored most of the time, always late, leaves at break – you know him (or her). being that he worked for a major golf course in the area as a groundsmen, he chose to speak on grass. yes, thats right ladies and gents – grass. he spoke for about 2.01mins about how the grass is watered daily, and mowed, how its hard to keep green; and just when we could not take anymore knowledge – he busts out a foam dixie plate with some picked grass on it. not from the golf course, but from the lawn outside of the building – we all knew this because it was brown, and dirty, and long. he got a mouthful from professor awesomepants, about how he could have done this, or that, or spoke more about said whatever. she gave him a “D” out loud.
i tell you this story because i have mentioned it to my now high school aged son, in regards to his caliber of work. “no one wants to listen to you talk about a plate of grass…” or “this is the plate of grass, do something more creative!”
i am sick of sleeping alone
praying for someone to fill the space between the sheets and sunrise.
i am sick of hearing “in due time” or
“the right person is out there!”
where? where the fuck are you?
did you fall down, get lost, forget about me?
i am aching to be your wife, for “honey im home”
for arguments about the kids and make up sex
for dinner dates and sunday morning snuggles
im scared it will never happen
i am not desperate
i am without my pair.
“the first word I teach my daughter will be “no”
she will sing it to me and scream it at me
and I will never tell her to quiet down
she will say it when I tell her to go to bed
when I tell her she can’t have anymore candy
or watch anymore television
“no” will be my daughter’s favorite word
not only will I teach her how to say it
but I will teach her to repeat it over and over
again until every single atom in her tiny little body
hums with it
If it makes her less soft than the other girls
I will take her to museums and show her
what marble and stone can become
I will brush her hair and let her wear whatever
whatever that makes her
she will know
that the world has been built upon “no’s”
upon rejections and refusals and swords
if this makes her a warrior in a field of
flowers, then she will walk without fear
of being trampled on
the first word I teach my daughter will be
and when she grows up
in a world that tells her
she can’t walk down the street by herself
that “no” will be heard
it will roar and echo down the block
and she will never be told to keep
she will not know the meaning of the word.”
“I stay up
until 2 am
it as at this time
I can use the lateness
as an excuse
to say terribly emotional things
and get away with saying them.
Let me tell you
I am constantly
thinking of these things
that I say to you
at 2 am.”
— 2 am means freedom. (via youmakemewannabebrave)
the last couple of days have felt much like i’m in a prison; not a “i snapped and ran over a school bus” prison. no, more like Martha Stewart kind of prison. i have food, shelter and healthcare, but, it’s also bat shit crazy.
i wonder if I will ever make it out if the “Labyrinth”.
something is missing. well, many things; i hope to one day find them.
i could easily freak out right now… i still don’t have a job since leaving Chicago, or a car, or money to pay bills. BUT… i do have a roof over my head (covered in bat shit crazy) and my phone bill is paid at least for the next couple of weeks and i have enough meds to keep me sane for the next 30 days. so, yeah, i’m good.
i’ve earned a handsome gentlemen with more sense than fear, more money than dreams, more love than lusts. i’ve earned a man that comes home to me and looks away when the younger option walks by. i’ve earned a man who looks at my children not “as his own” but as his own. who lets me take care of him, cook, clean, support and cheer him on. who in return honors and protects me, provides and uplifts me. i’ve earned a man.
“Breathe. You’re going to be okay. Breathe and remember that you’ve been in this place before. You’ve been this uncomfortable and anxious and scared, and you’ve survived. Breathe and know that you can survive this too. These feelings can’t break you. They’re painful and debilitating, but you can sit with them and eventually, they will pass. Maybe not immediately, but sometime soon, they are going to fade and when they do, you’ll look back at this moment and laugh for having doubted your resilience. I know it feels unbearable right now, but keep breathing, again and again. This will pass. I promise it will pass.”
— Daniell Koepke
“We teach females that in relationships, compromise is what women do. We raise girls to see each other as competitors, not for jobs or for accomplishments— which I think can be a good thing— but for the attention of men. We teach girls that they cannot be sexual beings in the way that boys are. If we have sons, we don’t mind knowing about our sons’ girlfriends, but our daughters boyfriends? ‘God forbid!’ But of course when the time is right, we expect those girls to bring back the perfect man to be their husband. We police girls, we praise girls for virginity, but we don’t praise boys for virginity. And it’s always made me wonder how exactly this is supposed to work out because *laughs* the loss of virginity is usually a process that involves *laughs*…
We teach girls shame. ‘Close your legs!’ ‘Cover yourself!’ We make them feel as though by being born female, they are already guilty of something. And so, girls grow up to be women who cannot say they have desire. They grow up to be women who silence themselves. They grow up to be women who cannot say what they truly think. And they grow up—and this is the worst thing we do to girls—they grow up to be women who have turned pretense into an artform.”
— Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie,
MDW to OKC, i touched down in the rain and immediately missed Chicago. i reminded myself that in 6 hours i would be holding my babies and therefore the rain and the muck would not matter. i retrieved my bag and met my mother, which for the first time in my life i felt awkward around. like i was missing something, like i was the misplaced person. it has been 3 months since i left Oklahoma. a heart full of dreams and hopes that Chicago may bring the change i was seeking. being back in Oklahoma with this new perspective, is like i’ve just had my eyes checked and given new sight.
the ride to my mother’s house consisted of me trying not to complain about the drive, the traffic and the dull mucky weather. so i lead with all the cool things i discovered in Chicago. the train, the sights, the museums, the music, the people, the river, the sound of the train, my doorman… anything to distract me from this feeling out not fitting in.
i assumed that things would be different, i prepared for that. i did not prepare for them to be the same. the same awkward moments between my family, this unspoken stranger-ish feeling to which i had not missed the last couple of months. the same anxious behavior my mother exhibits when my father comes home and she goes into “i-have-to-be-cleaning-something”. the same disinterestedness that possessed me to want to leave is still here. i did not prepare for that.
the surroundings, be it all familiar are not home to me. i feel displaced. i’m not sure if Chicago is home, but I know this house, in Oklahoma is not home. i’m not sure that since i have seen something with such potential that i can remain happy in this place with no acceptance.
there was a man who loooooved dragons. he loved them so much, he designed and built his home in the likeness of a dragon. he knew everything about dragons. he would even carve figurines for the village children of dragons. one day a dragon flew over his home, and was so impressed with his dragon designed home that he just had to meet the person who would build a dragon house. he flew down and knocked at the mans house. when the man answered he was so shocked to see the dragon, he screamed and closed the door. the dragon flew away.
there is a level of excitement that comes when you feel the earth moving, finally moving after being still for what seems to be eons. when you know that something is happening, a silver feeling inside that seems to break the bearer, like on a perfect creme brule. my earth is moving. my life is starting. i can say that i have no idea where i am going, what is going to happen when i get there or how it is all going to work out, but thats the beauty in movement – you never know where the motion will take you, you just move and go with it. enjoying the secrecy in the next step.
Since meeting you, becoming friends then roommates I have had more fun, learned who I am and who I am not, been challenged, been reminded that I am and can be stupid, drink too much and that you have no love when it comes to vomit, discovered what support is, learned about fashion and what not to wear with a “total outfit,” how to dress a table, what monochromatic is, and friendship means starting where we left off like no time passed at all.
I have seen you married, become a mother, struggle with heartache and kick his ass, support your own life and lifestyle, and be stronger than you ever imagined. You inspire me to be a better mom, friend and woman. You have the best fashion sense of anyone I know – I know this because I have stolen many of your outfits and put them back like no one was there. Your beauty shines in whatever you are doing. You can create awesomeness with anything and design like a star! I admire your independence and strive for my own self worth to model yours. You have the most stupendous sense of wit and sarcasm… it is seriously genius!
I am so thankful for you, your encouragement and love. “Thank you for being a friend.” I hope when I’m 50 as well as 100 we will still be as fantastic as we are today!
Two friends of mine announced via Facebook that they had each lost a close friend today, each no relation to the other but both in car accidents.
Which got me thinking, these two individuals both died around the same time, and I am sure that others in this world lost someone around that same time too. So is there a line when you get to Heaven? Is there this flow of people who just keepflowing, standing waiting and asking each other “what are you in for?” Or is the omnipresent Christ just there to lead you home, hand-in-hand walking with you, holding you and welcoming you home.
I think it’s the latter, “welcome home my child, well done!”
Lord, remind me of how short my time on earth is. That this life is not my home. Pray for the families and friends so they can embrace your peace and love in this time.
* Lyrics from “That Ain’t Me” by Lil Wayne featuring Jay Sean from the album “I Am Not A Human Being”.
I began playing music at a very young age, first piano then violin and finally landed on the flute at 6. I hated practicing, I just wanted to be able to pick it up and release the magic inside my head. I competed in competitions and only by the sheer will of my teacher Mrs. Nancy Toone I kept up with it after I discovered boys. Also, I secretly wanted to be better than Jamie Prince who was a violin genius and lived next door. I think music has always been apart of my soul. I feel the closest to God when I am playing, singing, listening or around music. I feel and gain the most inspired my music; David Crowder, Flyleaf, and Sade speak volumes to me, seriously they changed my life. On the flip side, Lil Wayne and Tupac have made a soundtrack to another part of my life, one that drives me to move farther, harder and never give in.
I can’t sing a note. I can still play music if you do not expect grandeur. Tanner and Chandler will be picking a form of music to incorporate into their lives this fall and I can not wait to share with them my love for this 6th sense. Tanner already has a love for music, we’ll sing Johnny Cash and Michael Jackson, Lil Wayne (relax, it’s the clean versions) Da, Da, Da, Fleetwood Mac… so many more.
Also, I have to say nothing beats a record, yes, a real record older the better. The old ones crack and pop with every turn. I love putting on records on my vintage player on rainy days and listen to vintage and antique records with a great book, a comfy chair and either a warm blanket or a warm dog.
What are your top ten artists/songs?? ♪♬♩ How do you enjoy those artists???