Second Looks

I went to see "Inception" tonight.

It was good but confusing. Much like a book that absorbs me, I will probably see it again to catch all the parts I missed the first time.

It did make me think though. Without giving things away, I will just say this... I totally get the feeling of reality vs. the world we create for ourselves. In truth, I tend to build things up and create/desire the impossibility of perfection.

Goals that are out of reach... people beyond my grasp... dreams that never reach fruition. I live in a world of impossibility. Then sometimes -- most times -- reality creeps in and the dream tends to crumple. For a while, I crumple with it. And that really sucks.

This is what I remind myself of, however. Life, like a good movie, can be good but confusing. But it's always worth a second look.

Good-byes

Tonight, I wanted to say good-bye.

But I couldn't.

Maybe because I didn't want it to end.

Maybe because I'm never sure if it will begin again.

And even if it does, it is just never the same.

But I missed my chance nevertheless.

Being Normal

Today, a dear friend of mine asked me when it became out of fashion to just be "normal". It was the most thought-provoking question I'd heard in a long time because in truth, I don't even know what "normal" is anymore. But I sure as Hell know what it isn't.

Know this: I am rarely shocked by the atrocities that one member of the human race can commit upon another. It is sad but true. But I am always horrified by it. Especially the crimes perpetrated under the guise of love. Those wolves that lay in wait and don the sheep's clothing.

I had to call a mom today, and I had to tell her something about her daughter, something that had already shattered her family beyond recognition, something that she already knew. And although she already knew all the things spilling from my mouth, I still managed to wreck her with my words and poke my fingers into a wound that will not heal in a thousand lifetimes. When her voice hit that first unmistakable crack, my heart broke in half. She was falling apart, and I wanted to as well, but in that moment, it's just not very professional to fall apart yourself.

I held on somehow for a few more minutes, and managed to hang up the phone before I crumbled. I don't know how, but I did. In that moment, all of my indignant rage, all of my well-deserved and much-needed anger that normally shoots through me vanished. It fled my body. I was left with a nothingness that pissed me the fuck off. Normally, I would yell or scream or kick the shit out of some inanimate object. I would scream and cuss and rage against the unfair world and faceless God who would allow such a fucked up thing to exist, and now I couldn't.

All I could do was weep.

Ordinarily, I might see this girl once in a day. Maybe twice. Today, however, she was everywhere I turned, and I had no clue how to speak to her or look at her without totally losing my shit. But somehow, I did. Because when someone is just trying to hold on, to live their life without losing their shit, it's just not very professional to lose yours.

Just Another Sanity-Saving Saturday

The hard week streak is over.

I know by proclaiming this, it is sure to jinx me, but jinxes be damned. I woke up today with a dead sleep hangover, still holding on to my guilt and sadness and anger, and I assumed that nothing could cure it. And so because I wanted to be in a bad mood, I was.

And then I wasn't. Mainly because no one would let me.

First, my sweet friend bought me lunch, and I never let him buy me lunch, but the jackass snatched the check right outta my hand.

Then I went to the basketball court where like 10 kids gave me like 10 hugs apiece and seemed genuinely, completely excited to see me. I don't feel like this happens a lot, so it was quite nice.

Followed up by a trip to the pool where one of my campers told me I was wearing "Streetwalker Red" nail polish. Normally, in real life, this might offend people. It does not offend me. It IS kind of streetwalker-ish red, and it was even better because she admittedly has no idea what a streetwalker even is. She's just repeating what her mom says. Attention moms of the world: they really are listening.

Then I got to spend a whole hour with my feet in the cool water, my shoulders soaking up some much-needed sun, and my sides hurting from Alison making me laugh 'til I cried. It was luxurious and awesome.

A decent dinner, a whacked-out camp talent show/dance, and kids with hundreds and hundreds of glow sticks. And glow sticks automatically make everything better. Snacks and songs in the dining hall, and now I'm waiting for my funny friends to come join me on the rooftop for more funny stories and even more laughter. And laughter is the soundtrack of camp.

All around me, life went on, and I loved it and treasured each and every moment because I only have 6 days of those moments left.

Getting Lost

I find that I am constantly losing my way. It's well-known that I'm pretty directionally challenged (it's a genetic defect that no GPS can cure), but my sense of mis-direction sometimes creeps out of the car and into deeper, sometimes darker parts of my soul.

And that's when bad shit goes down.

Somebody told me once that, in the car, I am easily lost simply for the fact that I never trust that I can find my way -- that I doubt my own abilities and senses, and in that worrisome moment of "right or left?" or "this exit or that one?", I lose all consciousness and fixate on the fact that I might mess up.

I fucking hate messing up. Even more than feeling lost.

He reminded me that maps can be handy, all roads eventually lead somewhere, and if all else fails, you can always effing turn around and just start again.

But this is the problem. Sometimes, you can't just start again. Because life doesn't come with a road map and a set of do-overs. Sucks, but true.

I've made lots of choices in my life -- some good, some not-so-good, and some which were just plain lucky. One of my worst habits, however, is the second-guessing of those choices. Even the good ones. I have never been able to just accept that things happen. I tend to remind others that "everything happens for a reason", but let me tell you right now, most of the time, I'm totally full of shit and just saying what I think will make you feel better. You shouldn't really listen to me in that moment, but everyone does.

Sometimes things happen, and I, nor you, will ever know the reason. Sometimes things happen in the blink of an eye, and even that is long enough to jack up all of Existence. And that idea makes my brain hurt because I will backtrack and examine the chain of events leading up to that moment, and I wonder where I fit into it. Where was the beginning? Where is the end? And where, at times, is the beginning of the end? I roam around in the World of What If, obsessing about "left or right?", "here or there?", and "this or that?", and I fixate on the moment where I feel like I messed it all up.

Then I'm lost, and I'm left stranded on that road to nowhere, wishing I could just turn around and effing start all over again.

This Too Shall Pass

The Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day has now stretched into the Three Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Days.

And it totally sucks balls. Hairy Balls. Sweaty, hairy balls. And that's just no bueno.

But out of the darkness, there is always light.

Here's my two little rays of it:

A) Heather, my totally badass friend who is powering through spinal surgery recovery, is getting to go home to live, once again, on her own. This assures that World War III is guaranteed to not start at her mother's home. At least not yet.

and

2) My friend, Amanda, is somebody's mom. And it's a very lucky little somebody, for sure. Welcome to the world, Griffin (formerly known as Li'l George Foreman). I hope to steal you from your Aunt Courntee's arms very, very soon.

These two pieces of news give me hope. Hope that no matter how bad things get, life will go on. Life will be successful and joyous.

Because, let's face it, if you can survive something like having someone's hands on your mother effing spinal cord for 12 hours or shooting a human being out of your va-jay-jay, these days too will surely pass.

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Today was a hard day.

An unbelievably hard day.

Today was the kind of day that makes you question not only the choices of others but also your own personal choices in what kind of life it is that you mistakenly signed up for. Emotionally, physically, and mentally draining.

But this is what I learned about myself.

I can do the things I wasn't sure I could. I can put aside my own whiny tendencies to support those that need me more than I need me at any given moment. And, yet again, everything I've learned in the past 15 years really does come through when you need it most, and, yes, I am still learning each and every day.

And, today was surely not the hardest day ever. It just felt like it.

But I also remembered that others, when you need them most, will always be there. Whether it's a hug, or a smile, or a meaningful text, or a free Diet Coke, or a visit even though you don't have time to visit, or just continuing on their way without questions but with the knowledge that they just have to carry on. Those are the important things to remember as you lie in bed.

It's my self-appointed job to go around saving others every day, trying (sometimes in vain) to fix the unfixable, and feeling the pain/joy of being needed and purposeful. But some days, even the savers need to be rescued, the fixers feel broken, and the driven lose their way, and that's just how it is. Hopefully, when that happens, someone will be waiting patiently to pick you up, dust you off, and send you back into the fray.

So tonight, this one's for the Cavalry because it's almost time to saddle up again tomorrow.