The mask of Anonymity

Anonymity.. safety behind the mask. Is it used for  power, for cowardly motives? Armor for vulnerability held only by a tenuous thread? Or outright maliciousness? Which way do you wear the mask?  Do you have more? Do you even wear one?

Have I ever used an anonymity mask? I know I've needed it in the past, to deflect  arrows that were aimed my way for whatever reasons. Be it something I had done or from the unhappiness of another.   It would of come in handy, after all you can't penetrate the outer shell so there's protection and strength behind it, yes?
No.
No matter how tough the outer shell, what's inside is still vulnerable.

Despite the safety of being anonymous we all have signatures we're known by. The way we walk or talk, the clothes we wear or places we haunt. All those things generate from the core of who we are.
It's also very much evident in the way we write.
I received a couple of comments on several pieces I have written in the last couple of months. I understood the need for the anonymity and I don't blame the person for wearing that mask. I would have too, given the circumstances. But there are still risks involved. Sometimes, no matter how intricate the mask, parts of ourselves peek through.

These two comments ,while given behind safety of her mask, affected me to the very center of my being. I knew where it came from and the importance of them. I was complimented on my writing from someone whom I consider a highly talented writer.
The sheer act ( and I mean sheer, I knew what it took ) of taking that risk and reaching out humbled me, reaching way down, smoothing a layer of salve on a very deep scar. It also marched right up to my heart and parked itself there, demanding an acknowledgment of what never left... love.
Damn it. I didn't want this, I don't want to have to answer to my emotions all the time. Why do I have to feel each and every last emotion? To chew on it , stick it somewhere only to pick at it again till I know every nuance, every last layer of it?

But as I write this, I don't have a mask to hide behind. I can't begin to convey how desperately I need want one. I'm looking to crawl behind a thick door of steel. I don't like the vulnerability, arrows don't go right through me when I'm in this state, they have the power to burrow and embed.
When all is said and done, I don't want this post to chase her away, I'm taking a chance, I know. 
But if she risked reaching out , I owe her the respect of acknowledging it without a mask of anonymity.

Mother Nature's right P.O'ed.

The last two evenings we've been smacked by some intense storm cells. 
What do you think of our fine Alberta skies? Like everything else here, it's 
go big or go home.

Uhoh, time to take cover, ya? But not me, nope. I'm the dummy standing outside taking pictures.






 

If you look closely, it resembles a fist don't you think? It packed quite the punch too.









 

Moody and mighty mad.

 Ok, so how dark can the skies get already?!

  
Ah yes, in the design world it's all about texture. Lots of 'texture' here. And the drops of rain that followed were fat and mean.

Living in Alberta, a person learns to watch the skies. Do you see this green'ish colour? This is a bad bad sign. This is usually the colour that precedes a tornado. Which, luckily, didn't happen. Whew! 












Welcome to a typical Alberta summer's night when Mother Nature unleashes her fury. Irked a tad, wouldn't you say?

Walking a tightrope of my own doing

I've been struggling with this post all week. I find it hard to put emotions out there. Ironically the person I'm writing about here would get that. But one has to colour outside the lines sometimes, it's not all about comfort zones.
And when I write, I write for me.
So I guess this is a letter to myself. I hope it helps.

Dreams. Are they the product of your subconscious? Unanswered questions? A way for the mind to process?
I'm one of the unlucky ones that suffer night terrors but fret not for me. I married my nightmare slayer. He pulls me out of them, into the velvety darkness of night. Better to be awake in pitch black than down in the dredges of nightmare terror. But... this isn't about nightmares or my slayer.
It's about the dreams I've been having lately. Dreams of someone I cared deeply about, she's hurting and I want to help but I can't.
It spills unto my conscious waking state causing me to go tripping down memory lane a lot. And it really saddens me.

Last year I had to walk away from a deep friendship for many complex reasons. If truth be told, I think we were both heading that way, each having reached a point with SO much strife in our lives. Only I know I'm held accountable for it all. That's the part that makes me so so sad. I'm tired of having to carry the whole weight of the blame, to have to be given 'toxicity' award of the year, it's hard. It hurts and it's a heavy load to carry. 

I'm trying to work through that but it's my heart that won't let me. I keep hoping she'll will realize one day it's not all one sided but I'm losing faith that it will ever balance out. I would 'feel' it if it ever did, wouldn't I?

I can hear what you are saying...you say it's my own doing, this weight I carry to but you're wrong. It's the 'knowing' part that slivers and jags  at the reality. She knows  she didn't do wrong, I know it takes two but I know she takes comfort in her beliefs and carries on, while I feel the utter sadness of knowing the entire blame was passed on to me. I truly envy her for it. 
I wonder if time will blur the edges of the hurt, on both sides. I can't carry this knot around my heart for ever, it's very crowding. And I can't keep dreaming like this, there's no resolve.
Maybe when I start working again, I'll be too tired to think or sense.
Or dream.
Maybe I just need to grab my camera and go visually sooth my soul.
Maybe I need to talk to a professional.
Maybe I need a vacation.

Sigh.
Wanna know the bitch of it all? I miss the good parts of what made 'us'.

My tightrope, my balance.
I'm trying to find it.

Places and Faces

Ok so for those that say there's never any
pictures of me, here.. this one's for you.

Patio opened till midnight. But call ahead mmkay? It fills up fast.

I happened upon this lovely couple enjoying
their lunch break by the lake. I would of fallen clean asleep with my face to the sun.

Oh lol she was trying so hard to blow that thing up!

It's multifaceted.. like me.

Ouch! Like the look she leveled at me? Ladies and gents, I

introduce to you my youngest daughter. Mother to

my lil spitfire who, one day, will aim that look at her

mother. And I'll be sitting there with the camera to record the glorious moment.

Ahh my lil spitfire. Want to know what she's eating? Raw, yes I say raw onions. She loves them alongside pickles and olives.
Smack like her Auntie Bella.

 




I'd say that well ran dry, ya?

A busy little beaver indeed. Takes some strong teeth to gnaw through that.

I used to walk to the end of that dock before the rains came. And now the last two sections have detached. I hope the powers that be fix it. Soon.

A funny thing happens when..

I remember Martial Arts Academy. A year of street level kickboxing. With a martial arts instructor that lived/breathed/ate his craft. At times I couldn't even climb out of the jeep after 2 1/2 hrs with him, I was that sore. But I didn't quit, I wanted to. What the hell had I gotten myself into? I was the oldest student there. ( I was 40 at the time, general age was in the 20s.) But at the end of my year I walked away with a sense of pride and a major big can of whoop ass under my belt. (it's power tripping to be able to throw a solid punch and a bone snapping kick.) I also walked away with my Sihing's  respect. Even if he was considered anal (read crazy) in some circles, I had his respect. Highly sought after but rarely achieved for those of us who survived were part of his academy.High fives to me, ya!

My Interior Design certificate. Two years of night school, working almost full time, raising two teenager girls. (shudder)  Hubby was gone for long periods of time on the pipeline. I had ,at times,  25 to 30 hours a week of homework for school. How did I manage?? I couldn't tell you to this day.
And now I'm looking for more. I want to go back to school, I just don't know what for.
Sign Language?
Photography?
The rush of being able to do it when I thought I couldn't is addictive. Why O WHY couldn't I have applied myself to this when I was in high school? But we all know what high school was/is for most girls, a place to see or be seen, a bitchfest, a social gathering.
Ahhhh if I could go back....I'd pass up the opportunity. Thanks but no thanks. I'm liking the here and now more. No more acne and glasses are a fashion statement these days.

I'm not about blowing my own horn but I've had way to much time to think lately. I need to be able to remember my achievements. A funny thing happens when your last child moves out of the house and you stop working for a bit. You lose yourself, your identity and in a real way your self esteem.

So pardon my need to splay out what I've done. I'm just trying to boost myself up while I ignore the dishes and laundry. ( didn't those stupid things get magically done when I worked? No wait, I remember, I used to do them in an exhausted sleepwalking induced coma.) 

Time for my second cup of coffee and I think I'll glance through the employment section for a bit, just to see what I probably won't could do.. if I take the notion. 

On second thought I'm going to Starbucks, no dishes and house 'stuffs' taunting me there. Just noise, coffee and people. 

Hello world, I'm coming out to play.

What about you? What are you 'pat on the back' moments?
No bashfulness here, mmkay? Splay it out!

I Believe!

...in the education process. Never stop learning.

...in Grey Goose. Smooth like buttah.

...we all have our inner bitch. Sadly most of us don't know how to use it to full potential.

...leaving the fridge and freezer door ajar for a period of time ( WTF happened there?) isn't good for the appliance. Oopsy?

...in never leaving home without my sunglasses, it's all about people watching without getting caught.

...stepping on an ant hill scars you for life. shudder

...women hold the power. It's how you choose to use it that delivers the most punch.

...the dumber the commercial, the more you'll remember it. Objective achieved.

...the mosquito population is out of control when I come home from a walk and my arms are swollen looking like I have chickenpox. *&$(%*$ UGH

...in the beauty of seeing justice served. It's not cold, it's just ... satisfying, ya know?

...Spanish women are beautiful. Period. 

...the core of who we are doesn't change. Be it good , bad or ugly. It comes out sooner or later, through actions, words or reactions. 

... it's time my day starts, the dogs are looking at me with long faces. sigh. 

...What do you believe?

Dancing with the Demon

Answers,finally.
It's been a very long, very hard road. Ask my baby girl.
She and I are now able to put a name to the demon that keeps on dancing with her. I can't tell you how hard she's fought him in the past while I've stood there, hands tied behind my back, unable to help her fight.

In the last three months, I've watched her desperately try to keep her head above the suffocating weight of sorrow and depression. I had enough. I couldn't take her pain anymore.
And now, after eight years of battling an unknown monster, we know who he is.His name is Dysthymic Disorder, and he's got Depression and A.D.D backing him up.
She deserves a fighting chance, my daughter, and she's ready for battle.

Why, then, do I find myself being sucked back in the past? Right to the times she would say to me, "Mom, I have this empty spot inside of me I can't fill. What is it?"
Shit, here I sit @ Starbucks and my eyes are leaking. I'm hurting for her, the inability to 'fix' her. I couldn't answer her , I didn't understand it. Damn it, I couldn't help her. 

I still don't know that empty spot she battles, I don't have it, but I'll do everything in my power to fill it up and keep the demon at bay.
Every damn day she reaches deep down and steps up to a plate that at times must seem like quicksand.

This blog is dedicated to her. The strength she doesn't yet realize she has. The will and want to get up every day, if not for her, for her daughter. The beauty in life she struggles to find, the smallest of pleasures she has to work ten times harder to have.
So a loud and proud shout out to my 'baby' for battling the demon that tries to make her dance to his tune.
We got your number now, you bastard.

My day in pictures

It was a really nice day Saturday, wasn't about to stay in. Grabbed the camera and off I went.




I've always found something so appealing about freshly tilled land.

Hello and who lives here?

Remember to stop and smell the flowers.

I's the b'y that builds the boat...
Aww, sure and this is a land lubber now.

If farmers fields or boats don't do it for you , how about garage sales?

Garage sales don't entice you either? Maybe people watching is your thing.

Or perhaps you could sit here to...

enjoy a yummy brioche :-)








Whatever your flavor is, enjoy the day!

Jamie

June's Open Letters

Open Letters

Dear Pimpin' Gangster,
Hypothetically speaking, let's say if you were to do something unlawful or have a meet and bash yo brains in greet, how do you run away with those jeans when the ass is level to the back of your knees? And I have a comment while I'm at it. Sorry if this offends. When I see you 'swagger' by with those jeans I have to laugh, you don't realize you look like a penguin with a limp, do you?
Signed,
Yo Momma

Dear 13 year old pimply boy, 
Thanks for thinking I'm cool for an 'old lady' but I have two points I'd like to make. First is, I'm not old, it's you who's painfully young. Second is, I showed you the very basic of kickboxing, I didn't get into the dirty stuff. Watch who you call old.
Signed,
Not cresting the hill yet. 


Dear U turn dumbass, 
Really? With a van that probably held children?? On a busy road?? Here's your sign, IDIOT.
Signed, 
Rookie Road Cop



Dear Hubby, 
Sigh. Waiting on you again. Every time. I take 10 minutes to get ready. You take 40... ?? 
Signed, 
Put a little gas in it.  ZZzzzzz


Dear Baby Bears, 
Can I say this enough times? You guys ROCK. While we are not the 'Jones' (with apologies to the actual Jones families)  nor the family that used to greet everyone lined up by age and height, ( how friggen weird is that??) we are unique. And I. LOVE. that.fact. Your razor sharp sarcasm I taught both of you? I bow to it, you've surpassed me. I wanna see anyone dare mess with the likes of you.
Signed, 
Momma Bear 


Dear Anxiety Attack, 
Where in the HELL did you come from? I'm not impressed nor do I have the time of day to give to you. Geezus, you're lucky I was home when you showed up, you shithead of an ingrate. 
Signed, 
Fight you to the finish.

Dear Stomach, 
No it's not cool to be famished 10 o'clock at night, there's no reason for it. You were fed  nicely @ 6 tonight. So your hopes of pizza or nachos or toast with gobs of peanut butter are not going to materialize. 
As long as I don't go downstairs.
..... but I'm soooo thirsty though, up here, in my dry bedroom. 
Yes, water. Need water. Put blinders on, ignore fridge. 
Signed, 
Water so...yummy
P.S. broke down, had half a cup of Cheerios and milk. umm happy'ish..?

Friday Musings

Musings of This, That and Other Things

Angels Among Us , have you ever listened to that song? Do so. I met one the other day @ Starbucks. They do walk among us. I feel blessed each time I cross paths with one. I am humbled.

First angels then writers. One that possesses a rare lack of ego. How refreshing is that?! ( I've been to a couple of writers conferences, some egos are larger than life lemme tell ya ) We had a fantastic conversation of what defines a writer. I came away from that meet with fresh perspectives,having learned something new. AND I met an awesome AWESOME person.

If you had to tell me one thing about yourself that you loved what would it be? Come on now, we all have at least one thing. Fess up, be real and be true. You tell me, I tell you. ...Ok ok ok...I'll start it off.
I can read people really well. (Did you think it had to be a physical attribute? Nope.) Generally I'm pretty well bang on and it's served me well in many situations. I've surprised a few friends in the past with my canny ability.And I've bothered others with it. Meh. I think I'd make a good secret agent for secret service agencies, ya? Or am I part of it already? Go read this' Probie ' blog.
I'm a 40 something year old by day...
muahahah
Your turn. Share?

I should know better, I should know better, I should know better. If I keep saying it to myself it'll eventually sink in right?
Right.
Wrong.
I'm waiting for it to get drilled in there. What will it take?
I know what it'll take but I'll never reach that point. Because that point can't come from me, it has to come from an outside source.
Confused enough? Good, care to join me on my planet for a while?
:-)

Sleeping in till the grand hour of 8:20am doesn't lend to a productive day. I was all fuzzy brained. I'm usually up between 6:30 and 7 am. Feeling like the day was passing me by. And sure it was. Evening ate the afternoon that I never saw.
Are you a morning person like me?  I transform into a couch potato when the clock strikes 8 pm so I grab my day while the grabbin's good.
And...just to keep things balanced, went the other side of the spectrum , 5: freaking 30 am. Hey, no moss under my feet.

Unsettled was the name of the game a few days ago. Nothing was jiving, and spilling my 1st morning cuppa golden magic elixir doesn't make for a good start but trudged ahead like a soldier. Did my workout under protest, kicked it, walked the monsters mutts then took off with my camera. Out of the four walls, away from phones, housework, dogs and all manner of housebound 'stuff'. Best thing I could of done. I'm not sure when photography has become such an important part of my balance. I felt... content after, it soothed my restless soul.

Did I tell you I don't buy store bought bread anymore? Haven't for months. I happened upon this yummy bread and true to the author's word, it takes no time at all. The best part? FOUR ingredients. Why hello there. :-)


What are your musings today?

It's Okay!

It's Okay!
(I borrowed this from WhisperingWriter ,( in turn she got it from Glamour Mag.)  I've done the 'It's Okay' series a few times now and should of given her a shout out then. I hope this atones for it.)

...to have spent the outrageous amount of money I did on this bed. It's like sleeping on a cloud :-)  ZZzzzzz


...to make all sorts of mews of appreciation when biting into chocolate. Just try to tone it down when out in public, it was almost pornographic.

...to park in an 'expectant or mothers w/ children' spot if you are in the position to but honey, your factory closed down EONS ago, walk like the rest of us.

...to laugh at inappropriate moments, if that's how you deal with uncomfortable situations. Maybe just explain yourself afterwards.

...to sit here on the computer while hubby passes the vacuum. Actually.. it's really ok. ;-)

...to invite the Welcome Wagon over for the goodies. But damn! she took the basket home with her? WTF? It's not like it was an awesome basket, it was dressed up in cheap plastic flowers but it's the principle of the thing.

...to cry @ Biggest Loser. Alone.

...to call gossip 'news', if you're of the male species. Had to laugh when I heard it, guys are such guys. It's gossip anyway you dress it up, boys.

...to start shopping around for your next house, two months after you've finished building this one. If you're my hubby, that is. Sigh. Want to take bets? I give it a year and a half and we're off on another adventure. ;-)

What are you Okay with?