the storm that's brewing

there is an electricity in the air tonight. flashes of light and thunder ... the air still ... feeling heavy - hungry almost - and needing the release. last week, electronic signs on the highway warned, 'hurricane churning in the gulf. keep tank full.' and i'm not sure those signs weren't speaking solely to me.

the future has me slightly unnerved, even as my whole self stretches out toward it. i never gave much thought to the weight of those butterflies tickling my insides until they settled, lead-footed. only now, do i truly understand the power of gravity. still ... it's this mixture of fear and joy that is keeping me balanced as i walk the tightrope of my own happiness.

i wonder ... will i like them? will they like me? will they find me funny? think me sweet and silly ... or cloying and a bit daft?

doesn't really matter, i suppose. i am who i am and i do what i do. i can only behave in a style that is the most true of 'me.' i can't force that truth. it comes with surrender and the decision to sing out and allow it to escape. still, i've spent long hours with the question of how to embrace the potential unfolding to the west and how to see around the corners there. (and in between, there are moments when my ego flees and my mind keeps screaming that this is going to take so much more than i've got.) does that ever happen to you? i don't suppose it does. what i carry around, though, is that it all begins right here. at the end.

you ask after post sale fif and faf and we have been unusually busy this week ... and i am happy for the the rhythm - it keeps me present, and rightly so, at a time when i would be quite happy to daydream. and i don't want to waste a moment with these people i enjoy so much. i will miss them so.

there won't be much time to mourn the loss, i'm afraid. the custom sale is soon upon us and in the midst, i'll be interviewing folks for sales positions - our numbers are such that we have been afforded the opportunity to hire not one, but two more - in hopes of catching sales that may be walking out the door as we're all busy entertaining customers.

too, i'm hoping one will shimmer above the rest and rise to be a fitting replacement. i want to believe that there is someone better organized, less scattered, more mature, less motherly and in all ways lovelier than i am. someone who will fit in seamlessly and make them forget i was ever here.

it makes me feel better to believe that's even possible ... softening the guilt and the fear ... blurring my vision just enough that i can barely make out the effect my presence has here.

of course, there's always something to remind me ... ford ('like the car') telling me how proud he is of me, and christine crying like a baby and stacy, thanking me for being the store's 'grace.' i don't quite know what to do with any of that. so, i've folded those memories as neatly as i'm capable of and tucked then into my bag and i'll carry them with me wherever i go ... a talisman against low self-esteem days and a reminder of the kindness and care we're all capable of.

... the world is round ...

... the world is round ...

what's your world like today?

i hope you are finding ways of escaping summer's fury ... a pool would be good for that sort of thing. (i would float for hours, sans vêtements, and would spend the evening giving names to freckles bourne anew.)

how have you been occupying your time? for me, there's been work - we are in inventory mode and i am supremely tired of counting things - and the play, and visits with friends and to the shops. not a lot of activity, really ...

i have been difficult, out of sorts, lately ... needy in ways i'm unfamiliar and uncomfortable with. my apologies if any splashed over onto you.

(it is arrogant, i suppose, to presume you're even interested in this story, but i don't want to hold myself back just because i don't know... )

old wisdoms don't bury peaceably, especially not my own ...

the last days have been a constant reminder that in every life, all is not what it seems. at any given time, reality is a hall of mirrors ... sadness hiding in the heart of euphoria, the spark of great achievement bubbling inside a cauldron of adversity. so too, no end is ever really complete without a new beginning stirring inside it. i divide life into categories in order to understand and master it, but experience itself is seamless. i have to trust, i suppose, that dramatic changes only happen according to divine appointment. i have to have faith that change will benefit me more than clinging to the old ways would have.

sometimes, i think i'd like to keep you separate from all of this. it's painful as hell, and frightening too ... nurturing the life i want to live into being ... opening up the space to find something that better suits me, to find a way to love people without feeling like i'm hurting them by loving them the way i want to.

yet, it feels comfortable, somehow, this knowledge that everyone is busy with their separate lives, and we can go for a week or two with no word, popping in on each other, and it's enough to know that you're still right there, in some corner of my life and i'm right here, in some corner of yours.

as for the corners of my life ...

the play went well. in the end, it played much, much better than it read. there was raucous laughter and thunderous applause and some lovely adjectives tossed about - 'charming' ... 'stunning' ... 'incandescent' ... are among my favorites. and i am $30 richer and hold the title of 'audience favorite' - an odd thing, to be sure, the judging of 'art.' i am not in favor of it, but do enjoy the spoils, i must admit.

work is good. busy, of course. tomorrow is inventory, so i've been up long before the sun this week, counting, adjusting numbers and solving the mysteries of the back of the house. i am a 'words' girl ... numbers send me spinning in all the wrong ways, and yet, the exercise is oddly pleasurable ...

... bringing order to a place where chaos has reigned is an unusual experience ... one i enjoy, but will be glad to see completed ... after all, the world is round, and the place that may seem like the end may only be just the beginning...

can you ever go home again?

tonight, j went back to the scene of the crime ... a place we once called 'home' and the one place we made a pact to never set foot in again. there's a message in that, i believe ... one i'm not interested in facing tonight.

it was a good move for him, i think. a night out with old friends, a chance to be feted and fawned over ... it's the least he deserves.

i don't suppose it was ever his fight anyway - it was me they didn't like. i am not the nicest person you will ever meet. i do not suffer fools gladly. i can alienate people in a single bound ...

... and i can never seem to remember that when the darkness of stupidity reigns it is best that my 'brilliance' stay hidden. some people do not appreciate my 'light' ... or my tongue.

i could have gone back, might have gone back, but i am crazy good at holding grudges. i certainly have the capacity for forgiveness, but i find that, like most things in life, it is a choice. i can choose to forgive. i can choose not to. in this instance, i choose not to.

does that make me sound bitter? because i don't feel bitter. i feel hopeful and sort of sleepy, but ... nope ... not a hint of bitter.

in fact, i'm happy that he went back. he belongs there. and i think he needs them more than i do. still. there are things there that i miss. friends. traditions. memories. though, not enough to take me back. though, if i'm honest, i have to say i never thought 'home' would end up where i don't belong.

who knows? maybe forgiveness will find me ...







but don't hold your breath.

no regrets

i was reading the post from the other day. the one about 'before' and the tale of marcie and 'the devil' and it sounds so much sadder than i meant for it to, and full of regret. but that's not what i intended, nor what i want. it's true, that if i'd have acted differently, said something, stood a couple of inches to the left, maybe - everything might have changed.

but i didn't.

and if i had, maybe i wouldn't be here right now, wouldn't be this person that i am, that i - finally - like a whole lot. and maybe i wouldn't know you guys. and i like knowing you.

there was a time when i can remember feeling sharply miserable, beyond hoping that things would change, but that time isn't now. i wouldn't change anything about the way i ended up here - except maybe i'd be nicer to people. and floss more.

if i could go back and visit myself then, that girl made of knock knees and quiet hope, i am afraid she might not be inclined to waste her time with the likes of me. (but she would secretly like my red toenails very much. that much i know.)

still, i would find a way to make her listen and i would tell her it's o.k. to be afraid and to feel unimportant ... because it will happen a lot and will never last. i would tell her she will experience a certain wild joy that comes from simply not going under. i would tell her that once the soul begins to awaken, there is no stopping it. it can be resisted. it can be denied. for a while. but that 'awake' holds so much potential and delicious possibility - even as it can be a fearsome sort of thing, i think. it means taking responsibility instead of letting things happen. it means letting things happen when there is nothing that can be done.

and now that i'm saying this aloud, it's becoming clear that it is she who is visiting me. and it doesn't make me sad at all. a little loony, perhaps...and lucky.

so let's have no regrets, you and i. only forgiveness. and potential. and delicious possibility. lots and lots of that, please.