Monthly Archives: August 2013

The Bucket List

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I’ve not been writing a lot on WordPress lately. I’ve had some settling to do and my transition to living with Ginger has honestly, been anything but smooth. If I could move today, I would.

Part of it is Ginger herself, part of it is me, part of it is the neighbors. Thankful to have a place to live, I just plan on roughing it out and moving on as soon as I can.

I’ve made headway at repairing relations with certain family members, others I don’t really think about too often. Well, that’s not true, regardless of everything, I love my family and think of them often, I just don’t love dealing with some of the drama and have no need to punish myself by dwelling on the hurt.

I’ve gotten very good at just walking away from the bullshit. I can’t do it. I don’t want or crave the SHIT. If I can’t just “be”, and do my thing without hurting anyone else, I just tune out. I know this bothers Ginger, that I so easily just walk away and tune her out, but I can’t ride that ride that seems to fluctuate between two different extremes. I’ve not been blogging, because I haven’t even wanted to write about the fucking drama, and I don’t want Ginger coming here, reading something and getting hurt. I might not care for her personality type, but I’m not about causing her grief.

God knows, my writing has gotten me in trouble many times, but that is how I deal and process. It’s like I MUST do it, like I MUST take a breath.

On the plus side, something really good happened in the midst of all the static noize.  My bucket list is pretty short, not long at all, but probably the number one thing on it, happened.

I have been published.

I didn’t get paid, but I did get that bi-line, and that my dear reader is all I cared about. The fact I picked up a second chance to submit another article, is a bonus. The possibility of eventual payment doesn’t even sink in all the way. It’s like, “Seriously? You’re going to PAY me to do what I do because I can’t NOT do it?”

I’ve not linked to it here for two reasons. 1) The online publications isn’t up yet, 2) I used my real name.

I did get asked to write a second article, so this is all good.

I’ll probably NEVER eat anything from the ocean again, but I got myself published. It feels good because I always wanted this, but it feels good to have done what I’ve been told I would never accomplish.

Never let anyone try to kill your dreams.

 

Crap Witness

I’ve been contacted regarding Shrill and Booming. Booming has been charged and I am not surprised, nor do I disagree with it.

The gentleman I spoke with was very polite, kind, professional and I hated telling it as I saw it, but I have to be truthful. I trust my words here, more than my recollection, on the spot, so I let him know about my blog. In part, I blogged about it because my dad told me to always write stuff down immediately after you have any involvement in an accident, or witness a crime. SO I did. It felt like a relief to know I had to fall back on, as it helps jog the memory.

This is the kind of thing I don’t want to remember for long. I don’t want it in my head, or to have to deal with it, so it is one of the things you purposely push away and file.

I mentioned, more than once my history and I was asked, “Do you mind telling me your ex-husbands name?” I surprised myself at how fast I gave his name up and the tone I heard in my voice when I actually said his name. Of course, now I sit here, remembering my old life and I feel shame.

I feel shame that he wasn’t the last, that three years ago I had reconstructive surgery because another guy busted my orbital floor.

“I’ve changed”, I say after he says he is sorry to hear of my past. But have I? If I started dating someone again and they didn’t like things about me, would I morph and try to be what they want, or would I have the balls to say, “Maybe we aren’t made for one another?” Would I let them treat me like shit, or would I walk because I deserve respect?

I read my posts on Shrill and Booming, and I realize…I would be a crap witness, because I clearly confuse myself and the incidents. It took me reading them both to know, my confusion was present even talking to a prosecutor on the phone.

Still, as I stated, Booming TOWERS over Shrill. He should have walked away, not hit her back. Just because you’re bigger and stronger, doesn’t mean you handle things with more violence.

Between my room-mate and the neighbors, I need to move and find a new place.

Alone.

Notice how my writing has dropped to non-existent compared to before March? It’s because I am not happy where I am at. I have an interview this week elsewhere, cross your fingers.

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