There seems to be a reoccurring theme in my life lately. Looking back. Looking over my past. Wondering what If anything I would change if I could, to result differently now. I was channel surfing the other night, in lieu of sleep, which is yet another reoccurring theme, not sleeping. Anyway, was channel surfing. Came across one of my favorite movies. “ Back to the Future.” Michael J. Fox. This movie lives in repeating loops all across the too many channels of nothingness our cable provider, cough, provides. In case you were under a rock, this movie is about Michael’s character returning to the past, in a time machine. A Delorean to be exact, Time Machine. In this car, you can turn to the year in which you would like to go, sorta like a radio channel, rev ‘er up, and off you go. Back…to the Future? The kicker, or Key, is that he gets to return there, as he is. Knowing everything that has happened to get to the present. He can change the outcomes, fix the errors, dial up the present and return to a better…future?
Of course in the movie, it happens just like that. Everything is fixed, from the past and bright is the present, because past mishaps and mistakes are fixed. The wrong turns are righted.

In many convos with friends over the years, and usually over drinks. We have discussed this kind of thing. I have always maintained that I would not want to actually change anything..or would I? I would most certainly like to go back, but I gotta know what I know now. I want almost the same outcome, just BETTER..easier..or would I?

Maybe I would have said this, or done that. Perhaps I would not have been that wanna be Rebel, and never smoked that first cig in the alley at lunch in high school. Maybe I would have asked that guy for a dance, or maybe turned down that guy that asked me to dance, and danced with the other one. Maybe I would have been better to my Parents, or maybe not.

It would be neat to go back and remember how you felt when the phone rang, and it was “him.” Or that day that you and your friends were really young, and sitting by the lake with beer poured into Pepsi cans, so no one would know, was the best day ever.

Maybe I would have, maybe I would not have. I just don’t know, and there is not a Dolorean anywhere close by. Life is funny. Mistakes are gonna be made, fun is gonna be had. Not everyone is gonna be happy everyday, all the time. You can never make every single right choice. I would like to meet the person who has, by the way. That could be another movie, that when sleep evades, I will stumble upon..

I have a sign hanging in my house. “ Live Well, Laugh often, Love Much.” If I can laugh at my wrong turns, or at least chuckle at the mistakes, Live in the light of, at least the knowledge, that I can do a lot about the here and now, but not so much about the past. Living Well..is a piece of cake.

Peace!

To begin..English? Punctuation? Never my strong points. I feel I write , how I speak. So just overlook the occasional grammatical errors.

I am 46 years OLD. Some days it just feels good to admit that. After I quit my boring-please help me-never ending cycle of doom-cubicle full time- job, I decided to make some self improvements. I really knew I could stand to drop some LBS..so I began to work out. At least that is what I called it. According to some of my face book friends, and what I see in the News Feed over there, it was hardly “working out.” but I was moving. I did some kick boxing, with folks that I am telling you, are entirely too perky, and happy, and are trying to kill anyone who watches those DVD’s. Seriously. Resident Evil. Had a few dates with Jillian Michaels. She is Satan. Do not tell me she isn’t. the weather sorta broke here in Ohio. Again, that is up for debate, but it was over 30 degrees, so as far as this Ohioan is concerned, that’s breaking weather, so I started walking. Outside. Little by little I started walking further. Before too long, I was walking 5 miles a day..not all 7 in the week, but at least 5 out of those 7. Added a few hills here and there..and left 25 pounds somewhere between my house and the local dairy Queen, which opened for the season, only to make me a little more bitter as I walk by.

I like the feeling, of walking…but I am not perky little, pony tail wearin’, happy go lucky, Ipod with a Velcro holder, young thing, that pass me every morning, RUNNING. I am not running anywhere. I do not have a fancy little Ipod holder. One day, I actually thought I could fashion my music with a rubber band around my wrist, because I do not have all the little work out gear I see all about town. Some days I am kicking my own behind out the door, because..I mean, can I just sit here please? But no, 25 lb ago girl, says get the H outside.

People see me around town, and feel the need to comment. Things like, “oh, I see you STROLLING around town. How nice.”

These are the people I have dreams about pushing into traffic. I am NOT strolling, and it is NOT NICE. These 46 year old legs kinda hurt..I just had to cuss my way out the door, I am sweating, and briskly climbing up this small hill. Join my you CAR DRIVER..k?

Then there are the people who speak of “clean eating.” What is this? My food that I eat is clean. The glass that I place some wine in, is clean anyway. I am going to eat for crying out loud. Most likely really bad stuff. I applaud all those before and after pics I see of gorgeous young ladies, that threw out the, sugar? Flour? And look FAB..but I am 46, and I really like, cake. I am going to well…have my cake, and eat it too, and walk. Move. Strap my music to my arm with a string or something, and walk.

I am proud of what I have done here. I remember walking by this hill in town everyday, one day, I decided to turn, and walk up that hill. When I got to the top, I turned around, and smiled. The kind of smile that I felt from somewhere very deep inside of me. I did it. All alone. All by myself. No one was there..just me and my 25 lbs ago self. It was fantastic. Later that evening I had a glass, a clean glass of wine, to celebrate that.

It isn’t 100 lbs. It isn’t fancy. It’s 46. And it is not too shabby. Not too shabby at all.

PEACE!!

“Life ain’t always beautiful, but it’s a beautiful ride.”

My life has a Soundtrack. Seriously, I always hear background music like a really sappy B Movie from the 80’s. Sometimes a symphony, sometimes a rocked out metal band, other times dance pop. But there is definitely background music to my life.

I have been a non member of the outside working world now for about three months. When I am out in the general public, I find my tolerance for crap is becoming non existent. It’s very noisy out in the world. People are always in some kind of rush. People all over seem to have an agenda that is being saw to. Rushing through the check out line, or the red light. Wishing the line at the post office would move quicker, or the folks at the DMV would skip a number and call theirs. I have noticed that most people have a distant look on the face, because they are mentally on the next task, on the agenda, before the one they are on is complete. Now, that I am truly not in this rush all the time, I hear music. People don’t, in general, hear it.

I have taken to walking every day..OUTSIDE..and I hear birds, see flowers, look at the sky. Everything all around is musical. I see faces, smiles, and frowns. I hear cars flying by me, some distant horns blowing, and I hear the breeze. It’s all set to song in my head.
Some of my friends have suggested I am bored. Need a hobby, need SOMETHING. Mainly I feel this is suggested because I am not in a hurry anymore. Because I notice a beautiful budding tree, or a sunny day, and make mention of it., suggests to them I am bored. I know for certain this “break” will need to end. In this life it really isn’t realistic to not have an income. Unless, of course, I don’t mind “ Living on a Prayer” in perfect Bon Jovi fashion.

I am looking at his moment in my life as a commercial break between the songs on my favorite radio station. I am on commercial break. Before the Music comes back on.

Meantime, I’ll wait and listen for the Music..
The soundtrack. The “B” side of the record. That is always where the best song is anyway.

PEACE

I live in the same town I grew up in. Little town along the Ohio River. I live about three blocks away from the house I grew up in.  We have a few Police Officers. I grew up with the Mayor. Had a crush all through my tween years on the now, Chief of Police. My kids go to the same school that I graduated from. On any given Fall Friday, I can see a lot of the people I grew up with , gather for the football games. When I go to the local store, there are so many folks to stop and chat with, sometimes I forget what I came there for.  The local beauty shops are the news centers for all things.  CNN has nothing on the people at our pharmacy. On all Patriotic holidays, the American Flag flies from one end of town to the other. On Football Fridays, the Team Flag flies from one end of town to the other. Every time I hear the Fight song/Alma mater, Itear up. I basically have the exact same friends I had when I was young. “Lifer’s” I call them. Of course, I have been blessed to add some real, cherished people through out   my life thus far.  But those people, that hail from here, well..there is nothing like them. We gather at the same churches Sunday to Sunday. Weddings, baptisms, Funerals. Speaking of being News Central, ask a Church Lady. She’s a Journalist. No Doubt.  The people that I grew up around, that have left, when they return for a event, game, or reunion..it’s like they never left anyway. We can pick up like we just had coffee the day before. It’s what is inside a person. A shared bond, that is hard to explain, it’s a small town kinda thing I suppose.

We have issues here. Scandals, fights, grass in yards to tall, litter at the Basketball Courts, dogs barking, music too loud, local bars have “good stories” after midnight, Stop sign running, people going 35 in a 25, ya know, big time crime. I’ve been mad at a teacher or two, maybe three.

I had big plans to leave this one horse town when I was a teenager. I was gonna be somebody!  I hear a lot of kids say this. I smile. I never left. But the funny thing, it only took 20+ years to  understand, I am somebody. I am, well..me. The same sidewalks I ran on when I was in Grade school, I walk on as an adult, a beaten path. When the winds of change blow all around me, I walk on those same sidewalks, and know that as much as things change, is as much as they stay exactly the same.

I live in a small Ohio River Town. I am going to go pick up some stuff at  the store. I know I will run into my 11^th grade History Teacher along the way..on the same sidewalk…on the same beaten path of this life.

Peace!!

I often have times, when I actually can not find words to describe my feelings. Crazy, but true..

These are moments that I absolutely cherish. When you feel so much emotion, there really aren’t words for it. Births do that to me. A fresh new little wrinkled up baby.  A new life.

Death has done that to me. I was in the room when my Dad took a final breath.  I knew he was gone, because his essence left the room. His peace was gone from that room, but I also knew where he was headed. That is faith, and there really aren’t words for faith either.

People do that to me sometimes, both in a good way or a bad way I suppose. I have had a person look directly at me , right in to my eyes as if they are looking directly at my heart. No kidding, as odd as that sounds, it has felt like that. There are no words for that, just a connection that one can feel in the soul. This is someone to cherish, if they can do this. You don’t have to say a single word, you just feel. It’s ok anyway, because there are no words for that. On the flip of that , I have had a person or two look at me so hateful, they truly look directly though me. It’s chilling, and if a person can do that, they need feared. Or slapped, but go with fear, too many folks going around slapping one another is not a good idea anyway.  That is something there are words for, just use them wisely.

Putting words together, can sometimes sound like noise. I have had an enormous amount of quiet time lately. I may not even talk at all for hours on end. It’s good. Because there are no words for a feeling. A hope, a desire, a need, a tear, a laugh. Sure, those are words, but string those together, and you have a feeling. To cherish.

Spend a moment or two just looking at things in your life, and you will find yourself speechless.

PEACE!!

Music

I have been listening to an enormous amount of music lately. Filling my house with song, and some dancing, with my mop actually..good dancer.
Also singing, which , in the kitchen, it’s a great hall where I am Queen of the Night. Ok, that was dramatic.

I love music. All kinds, except maybe anything by Taylor Swift. Too much of a downer. I mean, get it together girl! In particular, I have been listening to a lot of Dave Matthews Band. I used to really like that music somewhere in the 90’s. I really had no idea about lyrics, just loved that it’s music. All of the songs are actually SUNG, and backed up by tremendous talent! But I listen now, to the lyrics. Truly, these songs are so meaningful. Love songs. Broken heart type songs, happy songs, all with very meaningful lyrics.

One that has stuck with me, I posted the link above to the You Tube lyric video.. “Grey Street.” I feel that is me. Not so much in the sense that I don’t think God hears my prayers, but I have felt like my prayers end up somewhere between me and the ceiling. Most people say not to question that, but I am still very human, and I do feel that way sometimes, even though I know somewhere deep inside, He does indeed hear. If you look at the Lyric, it may be quite sad. This girl has no “color.” She sees everything as Grey. Her heart is broke due to that. Even as her bleeding heart is red, it mixes together to Grey.

The kicker of this song, is it is filled with beautiful music. You can move to this song.

So..that’s for sure me. All kinds of complex, heart breaking stuff happening somewhere inside me, yet, the music of this life is filled with so much beautiful noise. Who wants to ever really change that???

Not me…

“ I live on the corner of Grey Street, and the end of the world…”

I highly recommend music. No matter, just well……SING!!!

PEACE!!!

What does the heart know, really? 

I have been thinking a lot about the condition of the heart. Not in a medical sense..but in a soul sense.  The gut sense. 

I am not gonna try to come off self absorbed, however the truth of my life is my heart, no, for the purpose of this writing , I am gonna call it my soul.

Ok. My soul is, huge. I feel things so deeply. Mostly the people in my life, I feel in my soul.  Of course the obvious ones are my children, my family.  The most wonderful thing is when I look at one of my kid’s face, when they laugh. That, I feel, in my soul.  There is something about laughter, when my kids do it, that is so wonderful and amazing to me. It makes the times when tears fall, that much more deeply felt that I want to remove those..always. These are the moments, that you drink in like a tall glass of really cold water. Refreshes the soul.

Then, there are the people we walk through life with.  Not to be “movie kinda sappy,” but I remember a wedding I was privileged to attend a while back. The Bride was one of my co workers. Who is truly like a Daughter to me, now. I remember when she was at the beginning of the isle. She was absolutely breathtaking, but not because of what she was wearing, or her hair, or her very obvious beauty, but because of her soul. I looked at her soon to be husband at that split second, and…you could see his soul.  Those are the moments, and it’s really quick, but if you don’t take the second to see that, I can tell you, you are missing the world.

I think the trouble sometimes with how much people matter to me, is the potential to be hurt, most likely too easily. We are going to hurt one another. It is inevitable. It is going to happen. I guess, that if it was impossible to hurt one another, it would be that much more impossible to love. Love covers a multitude of sins the Bible says. God also, tells us, to above all else put on Love.  I am attempting, to put on Love as if it was on old ratty T-shirt, that you simply can not part with. It’s so comfortable. So warm..

I won’t put that on everyday, the way I should. But my soul longs for that…

And , for lack of a better way to put it, Me and my soul, are a work in progress.

PEACE!!

Facebook…oh dear sweet, lovable to hate Facebook.

This “Social” outlet for good or for evil, for better or worse, I love it.

I have been to so many weddings,  Birthday Parties, Graduations, Vacations,

Births, all from the creeping around on people’s tagged pics, of people I do not know at all. It’s quite fascinating really. I have also attempted a “social Media Fast” on a few occasions , I don’t know, something about trying to re-focus my attention or something, these “Fasts” all together lasted about 48.5 minutes. Which is good, for me.

I have also, come back in contact with people scattered out all across my past. Beautiful, real  people, that were it not for this social network, I may have never seen or talked to again..in this way. I get to see their lives, kids, houses, dogs, mobile uploads, struggles and triumphs. Without making a Facebook, this, enrichment of my life, would have never occurred.

Kids HATE in total, that adults have entered this world at an alarming rate over the last several years.  They had a world free from Farm games, little factoid pics, and comments, at this level, then we showed up. Which is the fun part, for this MOM anyway. J ( notice, a smiley.)

I am, unfortunately, sarcastic. Sometimes this particular power is used for good. To end a bad moment, stop an argument, make someone think about what we are even saying, stuff  like that.  I also use this particular power at times for evil, and end up in a heap of trouble.  In real life, it sorta works for me. Someone can see my face, my body language and eventually “get” it.

However, in the Facebook  world, not so much. I have been deleted, blocked, un-friended, re-friended, smashed, and in boxed way more than a person should be. 

Sure..It makes it impossible to hear the “tone “ in a person’s post, or comment. But I have found if you add a little  “  J   “  to the said post, or comment it may or may not help to take the sting out of whatever you have to say. Also a real nice little “ LOL” takes the bite out as well.

I often try to see the lesson in things, and what is the lesson of  Facebook?

None. Not a single lesson. Just life. Life we enjoy sharing. Pics we like to share, thoughts we like to share, songs we sing, Love we have.  So, click like, add a smiley, and Laugh out LOUD..in real life as well as Facebook.

PEACE!

Choices. Decisions. I never like to stand on the cusp of making any choice or decision.

I am not an adventurous soul at all. Heck, I can not even decide what to have for lunch with any kind of stability. Every time I make the food choice, I am sorry. Why?

Take “Subway” for example. You have to stand there, and tell them everything you want on a “samich.”  What kind of bread? Toasted? Not toasted?  It’s more than I can handle.

The pressure is quite unbearable. Then they have the gall to ask if you want “to make this a meal?”  Wait. What? Is this not already a meal??  Ghastly. Just make it like I saw on the commercial. Easy. Don’t ask these deep questions of me.

I look back over choices in my life, decisions made, good, bad , ugly. The choice to marry, the choice to quit college. The choice to leave this or that job. What shirt to wear?  The choice to say, or not say what’s on my mind. The choice to argue, or walk away.  I can very easily wonder, if I made another type of choice, where would I be? 

I wouldn’t be “me.” I wouldn’t have my family. I would not have the three most beautiful choices I ever made. My kids.

It would be fine, really, if I could jump in the “Back to the Future” car, and simply tweak those choices. Right down to the shirt I chose to wear on July 16^th, 1983.  Tweak, but not change.

Our decisions make us. Who we are. Mistakes, and good things, ugly stuff, and beautiful stuff.  I stand, once again on the cusp of a major choice. I don’t like the feeling at all. But, on the other hand I LOVE the feeling. See?  Life, time, tears, laughter..

I’ll make the right or wrong choice, and be who I am.

In the meantime, I need to discover how to stand at Subway,  and not wax poetic when the question is posed, “What kind of cheese?”

PEACE!!!