Keep Going

I just wanted to share my most recent Facebook post....

I got a letter from school and thought 'here it is they're gonna pull my grant they figured out it wasn't such a good investment' But it was a good letter I made the Dean's list- the tears stung in a good way. I Sat on my stoop and cried. God has me

Keep going

Namaste

Wardrobe Malfunction

I was sitting in class the other morning - I attend university Monday and Wednesdays during the day and Tuesday nights for a 3 hour 'capstone' class.  A capstone class - in the literary sect is described as your 'crowning jewel' of writing and literary prowess upon graduating.  The night class is a good mix of very young students and professional adults that work during the day and are grabbing their education at night.  The other 3 classes I am taking, not so much.

As many of you know I have been on an extended spending halt with anything deemed frivolous.  I had heard stories of bootstrap budgeting when I was a child - we were all the children of immigrants. Clothes got passed down, toys were something you made, books were from libraries only, and clothes were hand me downs-stitched fixes-that you made do with.  I had a total of 8 aunts from both parents and proudly heard the stories of my Godmother who wore the same three outfits for like five years while working and saving to buy a house.  Been there, done that.  When I committed to climbing out of debt and started working crazy hours at the hospital - I adopted that philosophy.  I have made do with just a few outfits, random trips to thrift stores, mending and altering, and I was fine with it for a long time...

Use it up, wear it out, make do, or do without.

So there I was sitting in my day class next to students that were so young I could've given birth to.  It wasn't my age that was bothering me, I'm just one of those women that enjoy the differences and always extend the hand of kindness to the younger ones, partly because I know it isn't an easy world we live in and partly because in a way it's nostalgic.  I couldn't define what was bothering me and I looked down at my sneakers (the only new things I have really purchased in the last few years.)  It sort of nagged at me to the point where I couldn't focus on what the professor was saying.  Then it hit me - it was my style, or rather my lack of style.

Style - Fashion is a distinctive and often habitual trend in the style in which a person dresses. (or so says the Internet)

And there it was - Somewhere on this road I had lost my mojo.

It wasn't hard to do - let's face it I've had a full plate for years now and even though I chose this path, it wasn't easy, but it's been worth it.  I'm mom Inc.  Short order cook.  Pioneer woman (canning, wine making, bread baking, and recently environmental laundress see prior post), I work as much as I can while attending school full time, much of my free time is spent doing homework and researching personal interests, meeting up once a week with fantastic friends, I try to stay active (even though my ass isn't looking so great lately - comfort food weather here in the shire), Cleaning (ongoing), keeping an eye on finances, planning retirement strategies so that when I do land a better income I'll know what to do, researching education for my child that is graduation in June, researching cars for my other child that just  passed his permit test, fielding death threats and hate v-mails from my ex-husband (joking...sort of), unclogging toilets, keeping up with oil changes, trying new recipes, and I do these things willingly with a positive attitude because I love my life and struggle to remain grateful at every turn.

But sometimes, I think, a woman needs to be a soft creature as well.  She needs womanly things - and I have been denying myself those things. I have been mother and father to two wonderful boys but the time has come to get back to Crisy a bit.  Even as I write this it sounds selfish. I do believe mostly that budget is to blame, but there is always the fragrance of undeserving that wafts in.  I need to pay attention to that.  So what seems superficially frivolous may have gone deeper for me.  I feel undeserving of things at time. Let's face it I couldn't make that wealthy (but shitty) marriage work, I'm obtaining my education like a Mercury retrograde, I'm not pulling in a big income, I've been abused in life and smiled through it, I've been told countless times girls should get married and be thrilled about it (we've seen how that went.)  The only saving grace is that I was blessed with a warrior spirit, I just won't stop.  But there is a soft side to me that needs to be addressed.  So here it is...

I've always had pretty good hair, but it has been YEARS since I've had a professional haircut - I usually just chop what needs to be chopped and put a rinse through it every now and then and it's fine.  The last haircut I had gotten was about 8 years ago - a face frame - and I walked out of the salon looking like David Cassidy in drag.  That was the end.  Plus I have alot of hair so a cut and style for me would run around $80.  No can do on the bootstrap budget, so I'm saving - I'm thinking long layers (because it curls) and I always am happiest when its a bit untamed and wild (sort of like me)

Pedicure/manicure - I don't care that I scrub pots and unclog toilets I want a manicure - no not fake nails or anything like that - way to high maint for me, but just a little sparkle.  And I like my little hobbit feet...their oddly sensual.  No, no foot fetish here, but I do enjoy barefoot on sand, grass and even walking to my mailbox sometimes.  I think its the caress of the air.

Massage - Hot stone therapy period.

I cannot and will not buy a new wardrobe but I have made the decision to buy a few things.  I came across this article a while ago about people dressing in 'uniform.'  It's like a personal non-stress choice to wear something you feel good in and don't have to think much about.  I currently have 2 good pairs of jeans (a third ok pair) that look good on my fit my height (4'11 3/4) and feel trendy.  So that's a base I suppose.  I've always felt comfortable in a nice v-neck black (somewhat thin) sweater, so I have decided to buy a few of those 2 black, 1 navy, and 1 brown.  I love cowboy boots but they aren't always practical so I have decided to invest in those (somewhat androgynous) lace up black combatty type boots.  I miss my silver hoop earrings so I'm gonna get some of those, and I'm good necklace wise as I usually wear my glass LBI pendant - I love that necklace, it was made at a place called Swell in LBI -a glass artist that bakes a tiny bit of sand into colored glass and gives it a hemp chain  - it's become my signature piece I guess.  I had good jewelry when I was married and it sits in a deposit box with important stuff, and as 'good' as that jewelry is none of it has ever gained the visceral response that my LBI necklace does.  I cannot wait to get back to the ocean - the vibe is getting close for me to just drive down there soon.

So there it is - a mini wardrobe makeover- what I need to do for myself.  If you haven't set yourself on fire from the boredom of reading this post (Airplane movie Macho Grande), try to think of those things that will make you feel a bit better.

This was a hard realization for me because I've been working on the 'inside' of me for so long - hey maybe that's a good thing!  Maybe it's renovated enough on the inside to start on the exterior?!

Remember to Invest in YOU sometimes.

Namaste

About a week ago the dryer broke.  It had been limping along for about a year.  The only thing I could surmise was that the drum had ripped a piece of metal off the holding part and it had been free flowing in the compartment that holds the drum to the machine.  It still worked fine but then it had begun to make a screech.  Ok so no laundry at 4AM, I would adjust.  I had noticed a month or so ago the metal had worn away which made the drum shift while it rotated.  I reached my finger up to see if it was malleable, it wasn't...however my finger was and I received a nice deep gash.  Sigh.   I noticed it was wearing away metal on the door.  No, I did not touch that.  Finally it refused to run which I suppose is a blessing because it is a gas dryer...that could explode....  "Woman explodes attempting to wash clothes...takes out entire town of Hamburg...News at 11."

The financial status of this household wore to the bone near the end of December (Merry Christmas kids) Although it's getting better, a $300 purchase was out of the question.  I could do the laundromat (because my schedule needs one more thing...)  Someone mentioned opening a credit card and paying if off - Um no.  Then I was talking to a girl at work and she told me when she was in college she rented a house and dried the clothes in the furnace room on a wooden dowel set up you could get at the store for around $15.  I imagined her in college... drying 2 JCrew sweaters and tiny panties.  Have I mentioned I average at least 10 loads a week?  But the seed had been planted...

I had the day off so I explored the furnace room in my townhouse.  Its quite large, but narrow.  Its a dry heat, there is a single light, but no way in hell would a $15 dowel crate work for this house, so I looked at what I did have.  A queen sized bed frame, two lawn chairs, 4 crutches (I have boys that play sports), two metal curtain rods, and a metal slatted night stand...

I rigged the bedframe to hold a curtain rod through the adjustment holes, I put a crutch between the two lawn chairs which I faced away from one another.  They are mesh chairs and their seats and suspension bars underneath offered prime drying for panties and socks.  The other storage room in my townhouse holds my prepper closet and the water softener - it is narrow and long as well.  I suspended the other 3 crutches and curtain rod between the prepper shelves and a pipe on the wall.  The slatted stand does well for flat-dry items.  The setups in both rooms could easily hold 2 loads of wash.  Crude, I know.  But I must be honest folks I patted myself on the back and felt like a genius.  (I'm half joking.  If I had been a genius I would've had an emergency fund to go out and buy a new machine - Did I mention I have a Spanish Textbook that cost $163??)  Seriously though, I felt like an MIT grad...in my own mind...

Then the real test came.  I washed everything and figured out it takes a good 24 hours to dry and the funny part is that the clothes smell cleaner for some reason - like the fabric softener smell doesn't get taken over by the super heated dryer.  The clothes aren't damaged - they aren't wearing away into lint.  And the odd thing is that I do a load of wash a day (2 if I'm off) and there's a weird peace to it now-  15 minutes, 4 short flights of steps, and they are hung and forgotten until around 5 AM the next day. It isn't really that much of an inconvenience.  In fact it isn't at all - I'm down in that room with the hum of the furnace and no one can find me...

True, I would rather be in a place where I have a darling of a clothes line taut between two massive oaks with the sun bleaching my sheets and the breeze puffing them like sails (I'll be more specific with my wish list next time as I've been saying for a while "I would love to have a laundry line"and never specified outside...on a farm...)  but it's been ok and (I can't believe I'm going to say this) I think I'm going to leave it like this for a while - lets face it, I'm the only one that does the wash anyway so I doubt anyone will notice and we could use the $ catch-up for a while

The only complaint from the kids has been that the towels are a bit rough...And yet somehow they find the courage to go on...Some comments you smile at and ignore.

I got my laundry line.

Ode to the simple things
Namaste

Downstream

My last semester at University is in full swing, so is my dreaming.  I still don't understand why such things happen but I have come to accept the not sleeping and saga-like dreaming as an intrinsic part of myself.  They are small shadows in the corners of my mind that each have their own story.  Sometimes they begin as one thing but upon waking their meaning migrates and shifts.  I am in a 'Capstone Class' right now and its focus is the Prose Poem.  The very nature of these poems I find so ambiguous that I have yet to define them.  Experiences, dreams, visions, and inklings seem to merge.

Downstream

You're like the mystifying sinking lure that all the young cannot resist.  They dismiss their tomorrows for the opulence of today.  They know not of that currency, the unbalanced trade.  They cannot see the reflection of the old carp staring back at them from the long nights ahead.  They only know one another; all soft wisdom-less flesh.

My car sat stifling in a heat mirage on the pavement.  There was no liquid space.  If I didn't get off of that road, I would've collapsed like the bridge in town that had been touched by the hand of God in the storm.  The storm that came in the night, in the dark.  Wet cement and steel had sunk into the chilly gray gurgling water.  Built to stand beyond us, now embedded in a cold mushy womb.

I made the first right.  A dirt road that led to a paved road that led to an undulating descent of a patched road.  Patched over time, budget permitting, resembling a cows back.  It separated a shire of the abandoned McGill farm where we ran as barefoot children.

My work shoes on the gravel crunched as I stepped out of the safety of the car.  I was part of it now.  I turned to look at the slow hill behind me.  A faded red and chrome pickup truck whirred by, windows down, like the wings of a thousand geese.  I wanted that tunnel of air inside that truck.  It roared up the hill leaving the dust to silence.  Slowly the gurgle of the stream found me.  

Carefree isn't free.

Accept it and Own it

I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone that has contacted me via email, text, fb and otherwise during my ‘blog hiatus’ – (is that even possible?  A concept?  Who knows…) to make sure I was ok.

Things got quite dark for a while... 

I was in school, working less hours and got behind on things.  I began reassessing everything – a sort of paralysis by analysis.  It didn’t help that this winter seemed darker, I know the solstice, the time frames, and all of those celestial things I seem so sensitive to remained as they always have – but something had changed (perhaps in me?)  I had lost my footing and nothing seemed doable.  I grappled with faith and questioned my relation to all I held dear. 

Don’t get me wrong I had a fully present time with my family this year, more so than others, but it wasn’t the present time that was the issue…it was the future that was coming.  I was immobilized and afraid of the weeks that were ahead of me, the months that were rapidly and darkly approaching, and the year that loomed like a dark poltergeist waiting to consume my strength.  I wrote in my journal daily, I filled page upon page with gratitude lists of all I had and what I didn’t (serious illness and the like.)  And yet I couldn’t shake it, I just couldn’t get out of it.  I secretly wondered if it had all caught up with me, everything I had ever done wrong, or without good intention, or with darkness of thought – if it was all coming home to roost.  I truly wondered if this new year would be the year that it all would fall apart – that I would become my mother and opt out of this thing we call life. I laid low like a prisoner in a forest, in the dirt and brush afraid to pick up their head to form an escape. 

I had never prayed so much in my life.  I fell to my knees more days than I can remember.  I begged for this feeling to be taken from me.  I was robbing myself of the present over fear of time that hadn’t yet been realized.  School was almost over and the $ thing caught up with me – right in time for Christmas.  The only people that seemed to call were the electric company, the phone company, the gas company- all to tell me what I already knew – I was behind.  If you ever think that financial rough patches can’t touch you, think again.  I vowed even further to one day end the imprisonment of financial stress. 

What had compounded this problem is that I was reaching the beginning of the end of school.  I had gotten a grant (that I feared would be revoked DAILY) and by some sort of miracle a student loan (to which I also figured they would realize had been an error of judgment and not only revoke it but kick me out of school as well.)  I was like a horse at the gate that wouldn’t open.  The workaholic in me screamed through sleepless nights “What the hell are you doing?  School is frivolous – you can't feed your kids text books, grow up and get your ass to work 70hrs a week will fix this in a few months!”  

But I couldn’t .  I had to keep going , if I left school or went part time they would yank my grant and my graduation would be another year and I knew damn sure that towel I had been holding would certainly be thrown in for good – I ended the semester with four grades: A, A, A, B+.  Did I feel accomplished? No, I felt like I had done something wrong and so undeserving it was terrifying.  I had another semester to go (the one I am in now) and the grant was also tied to this.  MADNESS ENSUED and raped my soul daily. 

In the middle of all of this my ex-husband decided to royally fk around.  I’ve often heard you go through 2 divorces – the first one and the second at the tail end as the kids grow up.  This is true.  He threatened, then he messed around with the $ (which compounded my mental state beyond sane) His personality type is this; when a weakness is sniffed out – GO FOR THE KILL. Sigh.  Again I was reminded why I divorced.  It all boiled down to $ that he wanted.  I consulted an attorney and she gave excellent pro-bono advice on how to rectify my dealings so everything was solid on my end.  I left feeling better – not much because I still couldn’t pay shit, but a bit better.  

Then the words swirled around me. ..’school at your age? Ha good luck with that’ ‘Give it up already you’re as far as you’re going to go’ and many many other tapes that I had heard my whole life through – ‘girls don’t need an education – they will just get married and have kids’  Let me tell you – all of you that have female children, it is most likely more important that girls have an education as opposed to their male counterparts.  That isn’t easy for me to say because I have sons (both are which on target –Thank God - to get higher educations.) It is very important for girls and women to be educated even if they grow up, stay home and give birth 13 times.  Trust me on this one.   Teach them to know they can rely on themselves, and that they may need to one day.  That being said I made an odd peace with myself standing on my deck during a snowfall…I resigned myself to the darkness I had felt and I sat in the fear for a while - this is what came out:

I chose this.  I wanted this.  I still want this.  If there is a collateral damage to this decision; I accept it fully.  If my electric gets shut off I accept that.  If my house runs into foreclosure before I walk across that stage and get me degree SO BE IT.  There is no way around this.  There is only through this.  I am not fearless, but I will walk through this shit in spite of fear.

Should I have done this when I was 23? Sure.  But here’s the deal – I only have now, right now, today, this moment.  I will accept the fear to be able to accept the victory, because I will not stop until this goal is achieved.  It has become one of those things.  All of the people that I allowed to put doubt in my path, I accept them as well – they are part of this journey.  In the end, only I have the final say, the final verdict on continuance.  I will not break.  I have seen darkness, fear, hopeless but my future is MY FUTURE.  I OWN THAT SHIT. 

Come what may, I step forward – this is me now  - and that’s it.

I choose to keep going.  I urge you to do the same.

It is always darkest before dawn, but dawn always comes.

Namaste