Tag: Life

Excuse me whilest I lie here and bleed

Deana12 Comments

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My money and I have parted ways. It’s been a horrible breakup really. Dollar bills flying out the window, while I sit on the floor crying, begging them to come back. I make false promises of goodness and mercy, but they don’t listen. They know I’m lying. Truth is if I could hang on to enough of them, I’d just hand them over to my hair dresser anyway — my roots are showing, I’m desperate. I’m almost willing to go without food if it means staying a red head for a little bit longer.

My husband however, is not as committed to my vanity. He lies and tells me he likes my roots and thinks I should grow them out. After all, if I’m as committed to GMO free and organic food as I say I am, does it not make sense to stop poisoning myself with expensive hair dye? rhoda

I tell him to stop trying to confuse me with logic. Vanity is no match for truth at this point. If this keeps up, I’m going to wind up channeling my inner Rhoda.

In spite of my desperate pleas to stay, my dollar bills continue to leave me for greater loves like college tuition, a new furnace, a blown engine (which required a new to us car for my son), property taxes, dock fees, my sons meds, caring for my parents, my comedy habit, and physical therapy. Not to mention the usual things like food, utilities, and my mortgage; now it seems they want to leave me for my laptop.

I am presently laptopless — which sounds waay dirtier than I mean that. My laptop is my life people!

Let me just say that every letter in the alphabet is important, especially those that are part of your passwords and when that one letter doesn’t work, all heck breaks loose. There’s no getting onto Facebook, or Twitter, or your bank account or… if you’re like me this week  – YOUR WHOLE STINKIN LAPTOP.

There is no work around. Trust me, I’ve tried!

My life is locked away in a 4 lb it’s”gotta be pink because it’s cute” Dell processor. My banjo practice videos, my art work, my writing, my jokes, my blog. ALL of it – locked away from my prying eyes, because one stupid letter has gone awry.

Desperate to access my “life in a hard drive” I did the unthinkable. I pried off the offending letter in hopes that if I applied appropriate pressure to that little dot beneath the key, my letter would somehow resuscitate itself.

Didn’t work.

And to add insult to injury, adjoining keys have now bailed in protest. Nice. Traitors.

Which means I get to suck up what’s left of my redheaded pride, put on a hat, go to some geek rescue store and try to explain what happened. That’s not going to be cheap. Nor are these children going to care that I have a computer degree (from 1986, I know don’t laugh). They are going to look at my keyboard, and then try to sell me a new computer. My laptop is MAYBE five years old, I don’t want a new computer, or their goofy software that they will no doubt load trying to up sell me something. I just want my keys to work properly.

I need another expense right now like I need 10 more pounds. And no, I do not wish to discuss the ten pounds I gained over Christmas leaving me 20 in the hole with my doctor’s goal of “just lose ten by Valentines Day, can you do that?” — sigh. Hoping for a miracle here.

monkeysee-harness-01There is good news in this wine and cheese fest. I won something this week that will help me – not with the money, or my hair, but with my weight. See that pretty harness? It’s from MonkeySee in Australia. My friend Ashley B. over at Women Cyclists Blog (Seriously check her out, I love her blog and I’m not just saying that because I won free stuff, I promise.) did a product review and hosted a giveaway. I won. Yeah me!  I got to go online and order my own (I got pink of course) and I can’t wait to get it. Yes, I will review it for you guys. This looks like a killer product. Actually anything that makes me visible to motorists at night and helps me stay alive rocks in my book.

So you see, it’s not all bad. And I do realize in the grand scheme of things, not being able to afford to get my hair done is not the end of the world. There are people far worse off than I. So don’t send me hate mail, okay?  I am “cowgirling up” as they say in Oklahoma and I am gonna ride — maybe not a horse per se’, but at least my bike.

Have a great weekend you guys.

Happy 2013 Some Random Thoughts from little ole me.

Deana3 Comments

When writing the story of your life,

don’t let anyone else hold the pen. – Harley Davidson

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It doesn’t matter how 2012 ended.

It does not matter if you kept last year’s resolutions or not.

You have the power to decide where to go next. You always have.

I usually end the year with an inventory of some kind. I list what went well, what did not go well, what I learned, what I still need to learn and then once finished, I declare the year complete. 2012 was a year of challenges and great growth for me. Instead of making resolutions, I followed the advice of several writer friends. I chose to live a great story (Donald Miller) and picked a word for the year to focus on. 2012 turned out to be one of the best years I’ve had in a while. I even chose to follow Ken Davis’s advice and live a year that is Fully Alive and what a difference that makes. Living a great story Fully Alive is not an easy road — you get skinned knees and bruised hearts along the way. It requires honesty with yourself and others. It’s hard work. Sometimes you say as many goodbyes as you do hellos and that is okay.

Some highlights from 2012

  • My youngest graduated high school and started college as well as a part-time job. — He has epilepsy and a great deal of my life and his childhood has revolved around taking care of him and being his advocate. Now I get to watch him spread his wings and I could not be more proud. (My oldest is in his 4th year of college with one more to go — my life is changing fast)
  • I’m in two movies as a paid extra, Cowgirls N Angels and So This is Christmas — I am at a loss of words trying to explain the emotional impact of seeing myself on the big screen had on me. The best I can come up with is “it rocked!” I want to do more of that.
  • I rode the Tulsa Tour De Cure for the first time and will definitely raise the challenge bar and do it again.
  • I started playing the banjo.
  • I emceed a local youth rock concert.
  • Attended the Christian Comedy Association Conference in Nashville and had a blast.
  • The political climate caused some attrition in my friendships. Sorry to see that happen, learning to let go.
  • Made new friends.
  • I said goodbye to the church I’ve attended for ten years and hello to a new one that has women’s ministries and bible studies, two things that are important to me. This was a hard choice, but one that needed to be made.
  • In 2013, I plan to ride more, participate in the Route 66 Marathon, return to Nashville for the CCA Conference. My word for the year is Resolve and I plan to continue writing and living a story that keeps me alive.

Random Thoughts:

  • It’s easier to tell the truth the first time than to have to remember a lie.
  • Hidden things have a way of coming back to bite you — deal with your closet before it deals with you. (Just trust me on this one.)
  • You can’t have everything you want.
  • Don’t take what isn’t yours.
  • Don’t do something permanently stupid just because you are temporarily upset. – Temper your temper.
  • Always strive to leave people and things better than you found them.
  • Own who you are.
  • Don’t blame others for your choices.
  • Try new things.
  • Fail as often as you need to before you succeed.
  • Gratitude is a choice.
  • Write your own story.
  • Find your catalyst and be the person worthy of love, trust, and respect that looks back at you in the mirror every day.
  • LIVE a life that is UNDAUNTED.

It’s Almost Time

Deana1 Comment

No weapon formed against you will prosper … but make no mistake… the weapon will be formed!!!- Isa 54:17 —

I’m not afraid for the Lord my God is with me.

2 Timothy 4: 17 But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. So I was rescued from the lion’s mouth. 18 The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed and bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

foolish

24 Years Ago Today

Deana1 Comment
Our Engagement Photo from 1990, Looks straight out of John Hughes Casting, doesn't it?
Our Engagement Photo from 1990, Looks straight out of John Hughes Casting, doesn’t it?

I used to be a computer technician in Chicago back in the 80’s. One day I got a trouble ticket for a computer in customer service. Seems some guy had seen me on the floor and spilled coke in his keyboard so that he could meet me. ( I don’t blame him really, I mean I was a babe. 😉 ) I took it downstairs and replaced it with another keyboard with a faulty space bar, because well, I thought he was kinda cute. I tortured that man for two months before agreeing to go out with him. Every week he’d ask me out, every week I’d say no. He finally tells me that he plays bass guitar in a band (yep, he played the guitar card.) and I agreed to ONE date. We went out for pizza and then a comedy club on December 3, 1988. I’ve been his ever since. 24 years later, a move across country, two wonderful boys (now grown men) and I still wouldn’t have it any other way. Love you babe!

 

One Person’s Trash is another Person’s Treasure

Deana3 Comments

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I’ll never forget my first winter in Chicago and the time I tried to give a homeless person my coat. My boss stopped me and made me get on the train. I did not understand why he stopped me and I cried the whole way back to the office.  He was protecting me. My kind heart over-rode common sense. 

I moved to Tulsa seven years later and worked in the Bank of Oklahoma building on the 27th floor. They had an ice rink back in the 90’s and I’d go down there for coffee and breakfast. Every morning I’d see the same man with ragged clothes and I’d buy him breakfast. At lunch I’d sit by myself in the square and share my lunch and cigarettes with a few of the homeless men that hung around. My boss found out about it and made me stop. He said it wasn’t safe for a nice girl like me to be alone with these men. He thought I was putting myself in danger.

I shared that story recently with the wrong person and their response surprised me.

“Your boss was wrong. I mean you smoked. Obviously you weren’t a nice girl.”

They were so proud of their comment that they laughed. This wasn’t a heckler, I wasn’t even on stage when he said this. We were sitting at a kitchen table sharing dinner with friends. A heckler I can handle, this — I just smiled and changed the subject before getting really quiet and letting other people control the conversation. It’s an old survival skill from childhood, if you let them know they got to you they come back for more. I’ve learned how to hide crumbling.

Just because I can hide it doesn’t mean I don’t crumble sometimes.

Knowing what this man said is a lie doesn’t change the impact of his words. The committee in my brain is now in high gear, passing those words around like a cheap bottle of wine. “You’ll never fit in.”, “You can’t trust people.”, “He’s right you know. You are trash.”, “I’m never coming back here again.”

Every fiber of my being now wants to show this man how “not nice” I’m capable of being. Oh you think smoking is bad, wait until I tell you about the time I did thus and such! The committee is also offering up questions on his mother’s marital status when he was born as well as her emotional temperament. In 24 hours I ruminate every possible come back. They are wonderful come backs by the way, I’m always brilliant after the fact. The problem is those comebacks do nothing for my heart and just keep the hurt feelings going while Mr Idiot has no idea that I’m even wounded.

At this point, I’m the one wounding myself by repeatedly hitting the replay button on the DVD in my brain.

I want to stop the spiral. I try to read. I pray. I stare at my phone to call a friend, but it’s too heavy and then an amazing thing happens, I receive a Christmas card from a friend. Inside the card is a puzzle piece with these words:

“YOU GLOW and you do more than light up a room — you light up the hearts of all who are in it.”

Her card is postmarked several days earlier, and arrives just in time to soothe my heart and my brain.  She doesn’t even know about the incident yet.  I now have a choice, I can hit the replay button on the remarks that hurt me OR I can choose to believe my friend and her words of encouragement. So what if one man thinks I’m trash. He’s an idiot.  I have a wealth of friends who think otherwise and their voices are loud enough to put the committee to rest.

It is said that silence equals approval. I neither agreed with nor approved of his comment and yet I remained silent.  I don’t have to be quiet just to prove I’m nice. There is nothing to be gained by staying silent when someone lies about my value to my face. There are a number of acceptable responses that I could have used. My therapist says when someone throws a prickly pear at us (an insult), we don’t have to catch it nor do we need to throw it back. We can simply say things like “ouch” or calmly speak truth, “that’s not true about me.” Simple phrases like that stop most people in their tracks and give them the chance to clean it up.

I’ll try and remember that next time. In the mean time, I’m taking my puzzle piece from my friend and posting on my bathroom mirror. I glow, not only do I light up a room, I light up the hearts of all who are in it. — And so do you.

Question: How do you respond to thoughtless (or maybe not so thoughtless) comments? I’d love to hear from you.

Recalculating

Deana1 Comment

I used to think I had 1,001 reasons to hate men, turns out I have 1,001 reasons to hate one man and the rest of the poor saps just caught the shrapnel. — Fisher’s of Men.

Fisher’s of Men is not a new story that woke me up one night wanting to be written. It’s a story that really began in a home for unwed mothers in Utica NY in 1965 and is working it’s way to resolution with every new step, every new discovery and every word I write. It’s a story that has to be written and desires to be told. It’s a story that is almost universal in nature and bigger than me. It’s story that I have been asked to share on stage since I was 14. It’s also a story that I thought I could write during National Novel Writers Month. 50,000 words. Piece of cake I thought.  I’ve discovered it’s also a story that can’t be wrapped up that neatly yet.

The first few days, the first week even the words flew off my finger tips onto my keyboard and into my hard drive. I know everything there is to know about her, after all I created her. I’ve eaten, slept, and breathed her into existence for over 47 years. I know her inside out and backwards. She’s a mix of things, sinner and saint, lover and fighter. Porcupine and Pollyanna. She’s full of self-knowledge and yet it avails me nothing. My protagonist doesn’t resolve. Every story has a beginning, a catalyst and resolution.  She needs to resolve in order for the story to be complete.

When I couldn’t make her resolve, I ran to my cove in order to be alone and find my ending. I firmly believe that every writer should have a body of water to live near or at least visit. There is truth in water and it’s boundaries. And if you are lucky and listen closely the wind will catch it’s truth and carry it to you.  I spent the weekend wandering the boundaries of my cove hoping to find clarity when the truth hit me square in my gut with such force it almost took my breath away. My protagonist doesn’t resolve because I don’t. Fisher’s of Men isn’t a piece of fiction, it’s my life story. It’s me. Until I resolve, my story will remain in a state of crux.

One of my writing buddies spoke this weekend about how her word for 2013 flew in the window and jumped up and bit her. Much like the wands in Harry Potter that choose the wizard, certain words choose the author, not the other way around. That’s what happened to me. I’m not ready for it, I have no idea what to do with it, but here it is. My word for 2013 is RESOLVE.

This will be a word of rich depth, broad meaning, and many layers. I looked it up. Like me, it’s meanings are wide and varied. One of my favorite definitions so far the the transitive verb, to solve an equation again with new values. That has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Maybe the whole reason Kat(that was her name) and I don’t resolve is because we’ve been using the incorrect values in the equation.

2013 – is going to be a year of recalculating.

From Wikidictionary.com
Verb
resolve (third-person singular simple present resolves, present participle resolving, simple past and past participle resolved)
  1. (transitive) To find a solution to (a problem).
  2. (transitive) To solve again.
    I’ll have to resolve the equation with the new values.
  3. (intransitive) To make a firm decision to do something.
    I resolve to finish this work before I go home.
  4. To come to an agreement or make peace; patch up relationship, settle differences, bury the hatchet.
    After two weeks of bickering, they finally resolved their differences.
  5. (transitive, intransitive, reflexive) To break down into constituent parts; to decompose; to disintegrate; to return to a simpler constitution or a primeval state.
  6. (music) to cause a chord to go from dissonance to consonance

We are all hypocrites and drama queens

Deana3 Comments

There is a difference between a catastrophe and an inconvenience. While some of us are happy that President Obama won a second term, many are unhappy and are reacting as though this were an earth shattering catastrophe.  Let me make myself clear here — Hurricane Sandy and the destruction to lower Manhattan and other parts of the East coast is a catastrophe – Mitt Romney losing the election is an inconvenience at best. Some  of us need to get a grip.

No matter who you voted for yesterday, today we breathe in, we put one foot in front of the other and we live. Hopefully we live for something outside of ourselves. I voted, and those who know me best know who I voted for and why. Granted if you follow me on Twitter, you already know who I voted for and if you are still reading my blog you either agree with me or came to see if God struck me dead with lightning yet.

So for all of my Christian readers who believe I’m in a hand basket headed straight for hell, sorry. I’m still here. And being black-listed for either being a Christian or being a Democrat does not hurt my feelings. I needed time off anyway and now that my entire month of November is free, I can write my book.

I say that a little tongue in cheek in all honesty. Are we really that petty? Hollywood black lists Christians and Christians black list each other over trivial things. Drama queens abound on either side and yet somewhere in the middle is our tribe.

I’ll admit trying to give up anger during an election year has not been easy. I might as well as tried to give up chocolate while working in a candy store. So many things can make my skull split in half, the word “Koolaid” being the most recent thing that brings out my alter-ego “home-girl.” I try to placate her with cookies, but sometimes she comes out and she is U-G-L-Y.

I have an IQ of over 145, I don’t drink koolaid and neither does anyone else I know. I hear that word on both sides of the spectrum. Not only does the far right use it to describe Democrats, I have several atheist friends do the same thing to describe anyone who dares believe in a God.  My writers group is loaded with atheists and progressive Christians. I fall somewhere in the middle I’m sure.

I love my friends dearly, and I know I am a bit of a conundrum to them. I’m a Christian female who gave up my career to raise my family. No regrets. I choose to submit to my husband out of love and respect (not fear or koolaid brainwashing), and yet I am a Democrat. I believe in helping those less fortunate. I believe that women have equal value to men. I believe in a lot of things actually. If I’ve learned nothing from this election season, I’ve learned this: In the final analysis, be us believers of God or not, we’re all hypocrites and drama queens.   

That’s good news to me. Knowing we are all hypocrites means we can let go of our masks and just be ourselves and hopefully learn to love each other.

Now let us put one foot in front of the other, breathe in and out, stop awefullizing everything, quit being a victim and LIVE.