Monday, December 06, 2010

My "God Ray" Morning





Many of you know that over the past nine months I have been struggling through some....well, let's just call them "issues" shall we? Anyway, these "issues" have chewed me up, spit me out, stomped on me, kicked me, and buried me. They have worn me down. I have allowed them to worry me, making me sick and questioning who I am and what I do until my passion is cold and useless.


Just like it always happens with stress, you become more susceptible to illness and so this weekend I have been fighting a terrible cold and the flu. My emotional defenses were down and so needless to say, I was a bawling mess. My poor husband! Not that he saw because I try to hide it. I do not like to burden him with these things--I think it's a little selfish to dump on him and so I do not. I sat silently weeping, wheezing and coughing my weekend away. I was trying to rest because I need to be at work so that the students can come in and work on their final projects. My sleep last night was that of the dead. I don't remember anything but getting up with the alarm. You think I sound like a martyr? My apologies but what I say about the students is true and I should be there for them.


I looked outside and saw that it was raining. "Perfect!", I said, "The rain will be reflecting my mood today." I bumbled along through the morning rituals: feeding the cats, brushing my teeth, and showering. My mood was so thick that I seemed set on automatic pilot and I didn't remember any of those rituals until the song Good Riddance came on the radio. Rain pounded the car and I turned up the volume.


"Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road. Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go. So make the best of this test, and don't ask why. It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time".


I started to sob. You know that sob where you can't catch your breath because you're so wracked with emotions your body allows them to take over. I pulled over into the McDonald's parking lot aware enough to know that I shouldn't drive like this. It's funny, I always think that I'm a strong person until one of these moments happens and then I feel weak, helpless, and afraid. All of these issues running through my mind, all of the questions unresolved, all as my stalwart resolve melts with the rain.


The radio seemed to grow a louder, "It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life." I could hear my inner voice saying, "You've learned your lesson just make the best of your test. It will be over soon."


And then the rain subsided. I wiped my face with my shirt, took a deep breath and opened my eyes. The sun was shining on my car--shining those beautiful "God rays" of light that every lighting designer in the world wishes they could capture for the stage. I no longer saw the rain as a reflection of my mood but rather a washing away of the bad. This was my answer, now I just needed to remember it. To remember it and move forward! LIVE! I can be the person with the passion because it's my passion not theirs. I can't allow them to take it because it is what makes me ME!





"Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)"


Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go So make the best of this test, and don't ask why It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time


It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life.


So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial For what it's worth it was worth all the while


It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life.


It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life.


It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life.



--MH

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Misanthropic in Utah




This will come as no surprise to many of you, I'm sure. What? Monica misanthropic? Never! It's a lie, I say! A damned lie!

Yeah, right.

I don't know why, I just am. Maybe it's the 'too happy people' or the overly friendly way they just "pop over" for a visit when you've decided that today is not worth getting out of your PJ's. Who knows? Maybe I'm too cynical. I was born in New York--Long Island for those of you who care--and maybe the cynicism is in my blood. Perhaps being raised by a New Yorker is what made me cynical and misanthropic. I know! It was living in the Detroit and Flint areas of Michigan. Maybe. Although having a few stalkers whilst living in Flint did not help my misanthropy it only added to it. At any rate this is who I am.

I don't like being on the receiving end of these "happy Utahns" (yeah, look at that word, it just screams WTF). I've gotten more baked goods, preserves and notes from neighbors wishing me well than I have digits to count. For crap's sake leave me alone please. I can't possible eat all this before it goes bad! P.S. When I need help, I will ask for it. For example, just the other day, my neighbor two doors down stopped by as I was opening my garage door. It scared the sense right out of me! I nearly took her out because I was so scared. Who just stands there waiting for you when you open your freaking garage door and gives you no warning? My first reaction (after wanting to punch her in the throat) was to call the police.

"Hi neighbor! Just thought I'd pop on over and ask you to join our little scrap booking circle", she said with her Mrs. Brady charm and her Barbie Doll complexion.

Seriously? It's a whopping 112 degrees outside and she's not even breaking a sweat!

"Um, that's okay. I don't scrap book or craft (because it's a cult). Thank you anyway. I'm sorry but I have an appointment that I need to get to so if you wouldn't mind moving so I can shut my garage door", I reply trying to be as polite as possible.

"Oh, sure! Here's an invitation anyway and some cookies for the kids." She was looking very Stepford by this time and my fight or flight urge was boiling to the top.

"We don't have any children. Thanks." Really? Come on lady, I'm backing out of the driveway and you're still talking? Take a hint!

"But the little girl I saw you with at church looked just like you?" She seemed genuinely confused and so I pushed on the brake.

"She is my niece. She has gone home to her Mom. Please, I'm sorry, I really have to go." I drive away and she is still chatting at me.

But my story does not end there....oh, no....

I'm at church a few weeks later and another Barbie-faced Missus decides that it's her turn to "invite me to a ladies circle".

"Hi. Monica, right?" She's way too cheerful. I really need to learn a foreign language so I can play the language barrier card.

"Yes", I say cautiously.

"We heard that you can sew and we thought that you'd like to join our sewing group on Saturdays", she asked rather hopefully. I wondered if she had drawn the short straw as I imagined these Barbie-like women sitting around wanting another woman to join their group--to make her over into another Barbie. Their newest member, Skipper, had drawn the short stick and so it was up to her to reel me in. Yeah, not so much.

"No thank you", I say smugly knowing what her next line will be.

"But you sew", she questions.

"Yes, I do", I answer flatly waiting for the next obvious question to escape her lips.

"We thought since you sew that you could show us what you do?" Zero points for originality! She was new at this. I kind of felt sorry for her but not sorry enough to go join the sewing circle.

"Thanks so much for thinking of me. I do sew. I mainly do it for a living. In my down time I prefer to do things non-sewing related. Thanks again." I smile and leave her standing there perplexed as to why and how she just lost her target. Well, I'll tell you why. No one really wants to work when they're not working. So why do so many of these women want me to do just that? I sew for work and I sew for my nieces and nephew. My idea of fun is to not sew on my days off. Isn't that obvious? Logical? Now, book club is something I might join if you'll read something beyond just church literature. That'll never happen and so I'm safe to return to my reclusive nature and enjoy things like pajamas, books, alternative radio and quiet alone time...that is until they knock on my door again.


--MLH