Epic Change of Events

People, writers always talk about that split second decision that changes your life. One choice can alter everything. Pool league was in Cle Elum at the Keg Cellar, but after work Kelly and I decided to go ahead and do our thing and drive to Roslyn to the Eagles to see Sarah.

It was a fluke really. We had planned to go to the Keg Cellar first thing. But wanted to see Sarah one final time before she heads to New Orleans. It is our night at the Eagles and out of the norm Nick was there. As well as Shelia (incredibly wasted).

The details are quite vile, but the ending is somewhat romantic. In a heartbeat all can change and good can finally win over evil. The official statement: "Nick and I have taken each other back" and while he is a bit of a battered soul he is safe and sound and sleeping in our bed, right now for the second day in a row.

The rewrite of 'Tears of God' is going well. Next week I will be a SME (Subject Matter Expert) for Amazon. I will be working 7-4 and it will be similar to a honeymoon with that schedule. In an epic change of events life is making sense again and all that has been off kilter is set right in Roslyn town. 

As the world turns

The 'Tears of God' rough draft is complete and validated. God has decided to drench the mountains of the Pacific Northwest in rain as a celebration to my finish. All night in waves the rain has fell from the sky, a wave of light patter followed by a wave of heavy incessant saturation. Following into this new day as well.

I'm grateful for it; nothing is as sublime as a leaden gray day, heavy rain thrown about by wind when I'm deep in the heart of Ireland. Researching the IRA, killing people, blowing up things. Writing is a catharsis, deep thought and emotion go into every word and the feelings that you are living in the moment go in as well. It helps you figure things out in life. I find my answers by creating characters, writing feelings and conversations.

"The world is at your fingertips, literally. Just as you need to breathe, just as you need sunlight, just as you need water—if you’re a word person, you need to write. Sometimes you may know where you are going, and other times you may be embarking on the long road to possibly nowhere—it doesn’t matter—you’re getting the words out. Writing fuels your imagination, which makes you want to write more. And your imagination is always loyal, and it will save your life if necessary, as it did for me. Your imagination is there in the loneliest of times, and in the joyful times, too." Holly McGhee

I was going to rest my hands, they ache from working and writing non-stop for the last thirty days. But the weather has me inspired to start the re-write. To go back and start adding more layers. The layers of thought, color and smell. Adding the surroundings, the senses. They bring the book to life and it is the fun part of writing. The basics are down and now comes the sprinkles.

I don't know this guy, but he is famous and he passed away yesterday in not a pretty way. But he gave this quote to a reporter; that I really liked and this blog is in remembrance of what seemed like a nice guy. May he rest in peace. 

Bombs and coincidences.

I'm deeply involved in my book and even more deeply involved in my research. It looks like a bomb has gone off in my office.

Today I just have to say I really love something about myself. For the last couple of days I have been as I said submersed in my writing and research. This thing about myself that I love....I'm a huge fan of travel journals and make one for each and every trip I take.

Coincidence: The story takes place in Boston and Northern Ireland. Northern Ireland was a given when I wanted to write about a woman raised in the Irish Republican Army but I hemmed and hawed about the U.S. location she would be sent too, to locate a mole to the CIA for gun running and arms shipments to Northern Ireland. New York, Boston, Chicago were the places I was pondering. I finally settled on Boston it just seemed right.

While researching ideas and locations. I print pages of notes from the web. I have pages of these notes on Boston that I printed out three years ago when I first started the actual writing and visualization of this book. I have pages of printed Irish and Gaelic names, IRA history. Irish History. I purchase books all the time that intrigue me for reference and assistance in writing projects.

I have been to Boston and I have been to Ireland three times and each time I have kept a writing photo journal of the trip. Inside these journals sits a wealth of knowledge that you cannot get from searching the web. Pictures that I took at that moment in time, that mean more than a snapshot of scenery you glance at from a book. Pamphlets I picked up of places I have been to and explored. Business Cards. Receipts. Flora and Fauna. It's in there, in these journals.

On Halloween the eve of Nanowrimo I gathered all my books on Ireland and two of my travel journals. My Irish road atlas dated coincidentally 1998 & 2000 (I always buy a map whilst on my trips and keep them). Placed them on my writing desk for easy access and reference.

As I started writing I had a scene set in Sligo County Ireland. On my second trip to Ireland we visited Sligo and I took pictures of this Castle called Mountbatten and then we drove out to Mullaghmore Head. Where I learned with a chill and goosebumps that ran up my arms, that the IRA had assassinated Lord Mountbatten by placing a bomb on his boat here in 1979. So yes.. I have stuff from that day, that location tucked away neatly in a journal. From there we went into Northern Ireland. At this time in my life I had no inkling that I would want to write novels.

I was struggling with Boston in 1997 on the internet. Suddenly it occurs to me that I have a journal on Boston sitting in the other room on a bookshelf from my trip I took there with my sister. I open it up and it is like a time capsule and coincidentally enough from the year 1998. I cannot tell you how thrilled I was to have maps of Boston, photos and notes from 1998. Priceless. 

Coincidence. Fate. Yes.. I pretty much think I'm the shit today and I'm wearing a shit eating grin.

Blake

'Whats the greatest chapter in your book. Are there pages where it hurts to look. Whats the one regret you can't work through. You got it baby, mine would be you.'

I love those lines from this song by Blake Shelton. I actually really like many of Blake's songs but love those lines from his new one. "Mine would be you."

I wrote them down and posted them on my fridge, the words just touch a cord this month in my mind and heart.

I have been keeping up with my words for nanowrimo and today taking some 'me' time opposed to writing first thing on 'Tears of God'. I'm trying to figure out part of the storyline and struggling with it, so that means I need to focus on other things and other needs and it will filter through.

I Need to take a walk and get some exercise beyond walking to the post office.

I Need to watch a movie that provides inspiration.
I Need to stop thinking about that part of the plot so damn much and worrying about it.
I Need some chocolate.
I Need some cookies.

Rummaging around recently in my blog looking for something and found this quote that just hit the spot.

"Do what you want for yourself that makes you happy and the right man will find you there."

And apparently I'm rambling about nothing today with no focus.
Creativity and ideas have left the building.
Must go outside and interact with others.

Essence

Essence: The basic, real, and invariable nature of a thing or its significant individual feature or features.

I love that word. In writing today my words.. I called and asked Nick if I could use the essence of him, the part of him that writes, creates and sings songs out of the blue. I want two characters in my book to have that talent. Her Father and the main character. He said he would be honored.

So today I have wrote about that essence, the essence of Nick and his significant and individual talent of laying in bed, sitting on the couch wrapped in a towel, sitting on the toilet while I would take a bath and just write, sing or create a song. One for himself or one for me, pulling it out of thin air and making me smile with how much he liked me or making me laugh my ass off or making my heart melt with the beauty of the music he had in his head.

And this song always makes me think about the music in his head.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I4keD5Qvya4&list=RD9JkdBnT7j2I


Bittersweet another word I just love. The bittersweet memories of those very sweet moments with him are a treasure. And as I fight back longing for those moments while I write and think of him. It is also the bad memories and the heartbreak that is fitting for the somber mood of this book. Bittersweet...Because even though I'm talking about Nick in a blog today as if I saw him. I haven't. After the promise I made myself to have him pick up the rest of his stuff. After changing his address.

I also asked him to not come by anymore to visit, I just don't want to see him. 

The Spirit Mine

The other day while drinking a comment was made that hurt very badly. Sobering really and took all the fun right out of the day.

"I like them both the same."

I thought angrily, "I'm so much better than that." Then after days of thinking about it, I realized when I'm drinking I' am just the same. So I have spent much time thinking about this and I have come to the realization that if I give up drinking. I give up all the worst parts of me. I tried negotiating with myself. "I can only drink on Sundays or I will stay with the usual rule that I can only have one or two.

In all honesty I don't drink that much and do not enjoy losing control and being drunk. But I do like to drink. And when I drink I like to have fun. Sometimes I get mean. Sometimes I fight. Sometimes I'm angry. Sometimes I'm sad. And most of the time I don't like myself afterwards.

Reflecting on things said and done while drinking... I just don't like the weak parts of me that seem to shine while drinking.

I have also come to realize that I cannot compete with addiction and win. I'm an Aries and competitive by nature and this one battle I never seem to win. I have loved, lived and left addiction all my life and I never win the battle over it. That is because it is not my problem and it is not about me and it is not their fault or mine.

But to stop attracting it, loving it and trying to save them.. that is a tough one.

So the realization to remove addiction from my life, to stop attracting it, stop living with it has a flip side. I have to give up my own addictions. Also if I like myself better when not drinking then that is a solution in itself. While drinking I tend to attract the same things in my life that I don't like in my life.


It's a work in progress, changing yourself and your life.

Nanowrimo Countdown

I have been busy prepping for Nanowrimo the last two weeks. Today setting up the dinosaur laptop, since my beloved laptop emits an annoying click crossed with a hum that was not able to be fixed by the tech squad at Radio Shack. I cannot work like that, hell I can barely stand to check my emails and do my banking before the sound about sends me over the edge. And lately my edge is pretty dang short.

Work has been busy and annoying. Hoping that settles down in a week or too with the new hires coming on board. But also the edge shows its nasty side there as well. But I'm working on it daily, dulling that edge.

Tears of God aka Mil (Honey) is the book I have selected to work on this year. This book has been in my head over half my life. Brought back by watching the movie 'The Town' as mentioned in a long ago blog. Excited to dig into it.

I have also returned to doing lessons and writing with 'Calling in the One' not so much to call in the one, but to do some deep soul searching on why I do the things I do and how to write myself out of my very angry hole. However today, the anger and sad stuff  as well as the endless mood swings and feelings, I thought might just come in handy for the mood of the book.

Talked to Nick today and that is, as always very hard. Especially after running into him and talking to him twice yesterday and I'm worried about him. He had court today and was made an offer that he is considering taking. It surprised me that it was so severe. "5 years sober with rehabilitation classes." My first thought as he said this, was wow it could save and change his life and my second thought was I wish he would do it. Sobering effect, sober conversation.

Sabotage

The sounds of pool league, a seahawks game, fun and levity surround me. I sit at a table with my friends enjoying the night out in another town. Part of the solution to stay out of trouble.

My phone rings suddenly and I glance down at it. Stunned I pick it up and show it to Kelly. She is shocked as well to see Nick's name and face there, she says take it outside, far outside. I answer as I stand and head out the back door. So thrilled for this moment and yet taken aback. We talk about many things and then when finished I head back inside. But quite honestly he has sucked the fun out of my evening. I start to head home.

Ahead in my car lights as I round the corner of 5th street. I think I see two people walking close together. Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Nick and Sheila? As I get closer I only see Sheila. Struggling in a drunken lurch and stagger up the hill. It is comical as she glances back, her face set in her permanent unhappy scowl. I laugh and shake my head, wondering if I had imagined Nick there or if he abandoned her to hide in the trees.

I head to bed hoping to get some sleep, my sleep has been restless and filled with anxiety. As I lay their tossing and turning my phone rings. It is Nick again. I answer and we talk just like old times. I miss him so much sometimes I can barely breath. And every since he spent the night I have been filled with hope, anxiety and fear.
               Towards the end of the conversation I ask him, "so are you just roommates or are you sleeping together."
               He replies "I have to keep warm somehow." 

Beyond the heartbreak, suddenly is anger and a knowing so deep that he his playing and laying his cards out covering all his bases. Once a week or so he pops in to visit. This week there has been no visit and I have been laying low so not easy to see or find. Hence the phone? And suddenly I don't want to play this card game anymore. He is sabotaging my attempts at trying to get over him and I have been letting him. I spend another sleepless night filled with anxiety.

Waking or stirring in the morning filled with something I cannot identify. I write and I talk to myself for hours trying to figure it out. Finally Yvette gives me the answer I need. I text him, breaking all the rules yet again. But I want to say something about this sabotage and then let it be.

S:"You caught me off guard twice last night. Why are you calling me Nick?"

N:"Just to say hey."

S:"Either come home or stop messing with my emotions. It's not nice or fair when you know I love you."

I spend the day resting, watching movies and trying to heal and worrying about whether I really want him to come home anymore.

Sabotage

Sabotage is a deliberate action aimed at weakening another entity through subversion, obstruction, disruption, or destruction.

Love is sabotage on the heart and mind.

Giving up the Ghost

Giving up the ghost.
Where does that line originate from?

Give up the ghost

1. to stop trying to do something because you know that you will not succeed. 

2. (humorous) if a machine gives up the ghost, it stops working.

The fireflies, too, which sparkled most vividly in the darkest places, now and then startled him, as one of uncommon brightness would stream across his path; and if, by chance, a huge blockhead of a beetle came winging his blundering flight against him, the poor varlet was ready to give up the ghost, with the idea that he was struck with a witch's token. The Legend Of Sleepy Hollow by Irving, Washington

I have resigned myself to give up the ghost. Nothing I seem to be doing is working. I remember having said that in the midst of the meth madness. This moment in time, which seems so much like that time. I have to do something different. So I'm giving up. Letting it go. Letting him go. Letting them all go. The good fight for him, for friendship is not working and it is causing stress and harm to swirl in a vicious cycle all around me.

Hunkering down for some writing, even more writing then I'm doing. Nanowrimo is just around the corner and I'm trying to empty my brain of my personal strife and focus on creating and pouring out a story of others. Just around fifteen days till the beginning of November and trying to find the thread of the new book. The thoughts of it confused by the turmoil in my life and wanting to write it all down as well. Get it out.

The next two weeks there is no Sunday Football to look forward to which will also be nice so that yes, I can back down and out of a situation that is focused on me. With my own guilt of instigation, the only way out is out. 

Moods..

I woke in the dark grey of an overcast morning, rain pelting the metal roof. Dreams and conversations so clear and disturbing that I was spitting angry. Tossing and turning in a light sleep till I realized they were not real conversations. Yet, as I got out of bed and made my way to the bathroom, I glanced in the mirror and grimaced because the fire was still burning in my eyes.

As I made my way back to bed and crawled back into the warmth of the covers. I forced myself to recite the FISH philosophy. Be Present, Choose your attitude, Play and Make their day. Choose your attitude I told myself and worked out the anger at Nick from those dreams and conversations with him inside my head. 

I woke the other morning just knowing I had to change the feng shui of my bedroom. Ever had one of those moments? Where you awake and there is a burning rush of desire lighting your ass on fire to make a change?

Shortly there after I found myself stuck in my bedroom in the middle of chaos. It took most of the morning but I made the change, then I started cleaning out my closets. In my mind, I was making room and changes for a man to step into my life. Making my bedroom more man comfortable would also allow one in my life. My reasoning. What I have come to realize since I have done the switch of the position of the bed, is that how much more clear my head is. Dreams are also clearer. I have some sanity back. I feel in control.

The Season of my discontent

Reflecting deeply this morning and into the day. I made some snotty comments out loud in public about someone that I like but don't think is the right person for me. And then add in the reeling for the last two day for self destructing the relationship as I always do anyway and again...earlier in the week. I'm just a walking time bomb. I pulled a card and it said boredom and discontent. Discontent that is my middle name anymore.

I needed to identify the root causes of my self destruction. They are; Fear. Social pressure. Trust. Intuition. Anger.

I want to be a better person.
I want to have a relationship with someone I like on all levels.
I want to not cave in to social pressure about who is the right person for me.
I want to not self destruct my relationships.

Fear of falling. Terrified is what I said to Jim, when he asked me a question about the new man in my life. He said close your eyes. Kelly deciphered. "What he means is close your eyes and take a leap, just do it." So I did, I tried it wasn't what I was looking for and I knew it right away, after the first whiff of body odor actually. But I kept pushing myself to try and I never started feeling better about it. That is not trying to justify my recent actions but honestly in my gut I knew right after the first kiss it wasn't for me.

And I have been very hard on myself today. Pushed and pushed my thoughts to the limit. I broke it or whatever it was going to be off with Eric today. Sadly I felt nothing but relieved.

No longer tolerating...

I will no longer tolerate, insidious comments. I think I made my point very clear last night. I have in the last week hooked that man I had my eye on. And that toxic woman tried her shit on him. So I put it in her face and throat... my meaning and intentions to her, if you get my drift. That I will not tolerate her insidious comments about Eric.

The deep dark inner things that go bump in your head at night

I woke with one thought in my head this morning. This quote. How does that happen?

I know how it happens.

Go to bed with anger and that is why it was there when I awoke. I'm angry at him. I'm angry that his addiction leads him to be weak, selfish and uncaring for others.

"You are not my friend." This to also echoes in my head. He is not my friend and I keep telling myself that and reminding myself that.. so hence the thoughts that are still there in the morning.

I had a long four day weekend. Long, stressful, emotional with a bit of hope tied in with it all. Mickey Blue Eyes is in rehabilitation. The first time was Friday and stressful. He checked himself out the following night and as of yesterday went back willingly.

I worked as a volunteer at the Logging Show and Mama Vallones. And I entertained the idea of a new man. That did not work out. I don't always know if it is residual doubts, but I woke in the middle of the night with thoughts that he had been coached on how to get in my bed.

No sharing, tennis and I have got your back. Odd coincidence? Probably not since he confided that he had spoke to Nick earlier that day and that made me angry as well.

I drank. Perhaps too much and ran into the lake in underwear and bra with Kelly, Jim, Kenny and Gus. The switch flipped on both of Kelly and I, suddenly we were mean and I have been angry every since. Drinking tends to bring the inner dark things to the surface in the day and also from the dark recesses of your dreams and thoughts in the night.

Sounders Game

August 25th Sounders game with the largest soccer crowd ever in the Great Northwest and the third largest soccer crowd in the world on that Sunday. That is some cool shit. 67,385 people at Century Link Field and I was one of them! Joined Roslyn peeps for the show!

It's a gift

It's one of those strange summer rains, cool and yet humid. The type of rain where you just cannot get a happy medium on the vent system while driving in the car and the windows have fog condensation that you are not able to get rid of.

But... I don't care. The stereo is on loud and playing the CD I burned for myself. I'm leaving town and heading over the rain soaked pass to my sisters. Shocking how getting on the freeway can free your mind and lift your mood.

My mood was good to begin with, but it has been a long week emotionally. I'm at the end of my 30 day grieving period and going to start dating again. Even got a date yesterday with the neighbors hot son for some future moment lined up.

Last night I was weak. Even said it aloud.. for the right reasons I would take him back.
What was I thinking? I have come so far.

I just finished reading a book by Nora Roberts, called Whiskey Beach. In it the character Abra tells Eli "I love you." He at that point doesn't feel the same. She is okay with it though. And says, "Take the gift and you don't have to balance the scales. If I gave it to soon or wrapped it in the wrong way it can't be helped. It's still a gift."

I blame the weakness on that line. It sucked me in. While good words, it made me think I could settle.

Internal warfare

The sounds of warfare filter through my house, my baby boy is living here again. He is good company. I love his quiet soul. He loves warfare and the sound of him playing war online is oddly comforting.

The week has been good the days get easier and easier. But I had to read my happy post and other posts to remember why I'm putting myself through this. Kelly has been my biggest supporter and I would have never made it through this without her.

The other day I was wishing I could find a man that met all the criteria. Well I have one in mind but he is not yet back in town. He is supposed to call when he does. I have a saw that belongs to the house he lives in and he is going to help me move it. And I just want a man, right away. I have been grieving but just ready to go back out there and try again. But how does one find one really?

On Tuesday I walked outside to water the garden and right in my neighbors yard was a hot guy. Marilyn the neighbor says. "Shannon, I'm so happy to see you! Come meet my son Matt." So I did, and he was so damn cute and I was so damn attracted to him I blushed and lost my words. 

The following morning I'm outside watering the garden and a hot guy walks down the alley stops and says Hi. Apparently I can just grow them in my garden. Internally my heart is still broken and torn. But I will win the war against myself and a man that doesn't love me.

Hootenany

It's the aftermath. I have good days and bad. But the good days are no longer alternating they have become steady and recently had three in a row. I miss him. I miss the good moments. I miss the Nick that courted me.

Happy

This morning this first word from my lips was happy. I rolled over in the big bed alone and smiled at the ceiling and said it out loud. "Happy!" And I grinned with joy because I was me again. That happy person I know and love.

Why... I no longer have the rage from that woman stalking us. I no longer have the stress of alcoholism. The fury from him not hearing, understanding or listening to my worries, insecurities and fears are gone.

She is no longer sucking my happiness and joy. He is no longer sucking my happiness and joy.

It has been coming day by day as I get my life and my house back and as I get used to it being just mine again. He texted me Friday evening and it shocked me and sent me in a tailspin. Right back in that place of worry and stress. I believe he had the wrong person or that she sent it, because no one ever responded to it and that also stressed me out.

And this has taught me something: as yesterday was all quiet on the western front in my world and from theirs.

It is better not having them in it.

Pieces

'Thinking spot'

The sound of pressure, water pressure echoes through my house while I write. I'm watering the garden we planted together as I force myself to take a timed thirty minutes to write. My Eire cup is filled with almond tea and the summer sun lights the front porch in odd angles. I woke early after a late night out and today is already a tough day emotionally and tears are being squeezed back forcibly.

Yesterday he was a douchebag. Today I can only remember the good sweet moments and that is what I miss the most, those sweet moments. His face when freshly shaven and he looks so sweet, his quick grin and happiness in his eyes. Cooking and dancing together. The times I would come out on the porch and find him sitting in his thinking spot smoking and having a beer.

Woman own every feeling in a break-up and I'm on it. I write all the time. I cry when I need to.
Men are so different and baffling. Nick was moved into another woman's house in about four hours or less. But is so spitting angry with me, he will not speak with me.

What I don't miss is the stress I was constantly under. I don't miss when he was mean and unreasonable. I don't miss the stalking of Sheila. So I try to focus on those moments. But once in awhile a day sneaks in on me and I have to own the good sweet times too.

This week I finally understand and get what Jim always meant by "You love me, but you are not in love with me." At a barbeque last Saturday we had a talk and shot of tequila by the side of his truck and he said it again to me. "You love Nick, but you are not in love with Nick." I shook my head, and replied "I can never understand that comment, I just don't get the difference." He tried to explain it again. So for a couple of days I mulled on it and then asked his girlfriend Kelly over cocktails to explain it again.

"In love is when you want to be with that person no matter what happens. You don't want to lose them or ever have them go away. You want to be with them all the time."

I finally get it and of course Jim is right and maybe that is where I have fucked up. I was always walking out, away or removing Nick from my life. So now I ask myself do I want to be in love with him?

'Pieces'. Today I woke with that one word on my mind and right now I cannot give away pieces of myself. 'Pieces of my heart, pieces of my soul.' The words from Gary Allen's new song cross my mind with the thought of the word pieces.I know what I mean, when I say it but trying to explain it is difficult.

Nick said recently he would be worried about me if he left, and he explained why and so this morning I have my answer for him. When I'm grieving after a break-up there is no way I can share pieces of myself with another man. That is the difference between us... men and women. I turn something off during this time and shut it down.

And today being such a bad day I cannot decide if I it's him I miss or just the thought of him  the piece of sweetness that I miss so much.

'Pieces'

I’ve been broken, torn and scattered
I’ve loved holy, I’ve loved sin
I was rolling on the wind
It didn’t matter

I was so sure of who I didn’t want to be
Every smile and every fear
Every laugh and every tear
It was all mine, it was all me

Chorus:
Pieces of my heart
Pieces of my soul
Pieces that I’m gonna be
I don’t even know
I gave a lot to lovers
Gave a lot to friends
Everything I took from them
Made me who I am
Pieces

We’ve all been lied to
We’ve all been liars
Nothing’s perfect in this world
Everybody’s been burned by the fire
Guess I’m learning
That what breaks you, makes you grow
But I’m not hiding where I’ve been
Gonna let the light shine in
What I don’t need
Gonna let that, let that, let that go

Chorus:
Pieces of my heart
Pieces of my soul
Pieces that I’m gonna be
I don’t even know
I gave a lot to lovers
Gave a lot to friends
Everything I took from them
Made me who I am
Pieces

Pieces, the good and the bad
Pieces, the happy and sad
Pieces, the wrong and the right
Pieces, that’s my, that’s my, that’s my life

Chorus:
Pieces of my heart
Pieces of my soul
Pieces that I’m gonna be
I don’t even know
I gave a lot to lovers
Gave a lot to friends
Everything I took from them
Made me who I am
Pieces

Pieces, pieces

Ready..set..go

You can do this!

As time goes, this is just a pinch.

Tough weekend.

Suck it up buttercup.

Happy Endings

I just want my own happy ending.

Plain and simple.

The other night it came to me suddenly that I did not want to live like that anymore. The constant worry and the building anger. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' This thought often comes to mind lately. I just don't want to live like that anymore, enraged with fury over a woman so toxic she borders evil. An insidious evil that Nick refuses to comprehend or contain.

The alternative is to swallow and digest it. I can't and won't. Because the alternative is that it continues and I settle. I'm better than this. I deserve love and respect.

I set it up to leave, to be inaccessible for some time. To grieve and make myself stronger to walk away from this and yet then he texts me good news and I waiver. Because I miss him so. But I swallow a beer with a bitter pill and ignore it. Because it would be giving in and up and I can't go back to the way it was.

She won't stop, this i know.

in·sid·i·ous  

/inˈsidēəs/

Adjective Proceeding in a gradual, subtle way, but with harmful effects: "the insidious effects of stress". Treacherous; crafty: "an insidious alliance".

Synonyms sly - treacherous - guileful - crafty - perfidious

Let it Go

No matter how much I tried to let go of my fury over that woman's toxity, she still has won in the end perhaps. Nick and I broke up. Both being stubborn and not backing down.

He told me over and over that "I need to let it go."

I couldn't, it became something so much more, and I needed him to make a choice and it wasn't me. Maybe he is right, maybe I was wrong.

I have issues he said, and I do. So does he.
My ultimatum rang complete of the ending of my marriage. Noted and recognized by those around me. So I'm at this turning point. In my mind and my head about what I should do this time. Stand and fight or run. I ran last time and I'm trying hard to find the lesson in my life coming full circle. I want to run so badly again, leave this town and the insidious gossip. But I also know what I want deep down inside, but the fear of asking and getting refused makes me stubborn enough to just let it go. I want the words and I want commitment.

I miss Nick like a limb. I have good days and bad days. No actually they are a mix. I have wrote and wrote and still no answer within myself on what is the right thing to do for myself in the end. I have made a list of Pros and Cons. I read them this morning and I just miss him even with all the cons listed and staring me in the face.

I conjured him up and he startles me in the early morning by being on my porch when I stop writing and head out to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. I jump in fright, but so grateful to see him and a bit relieved that he looks like hell. Because I know I do. Crying is not a girls friend. We have a laugh together because of a shoe. I ask him a question or two. One answer is my name the other answer is "To make a point."

And it is just so hard. 

So which will it be?
My letting it go, or us letting it go.

Toxicity

I have decided to remove a toxic person from my life. Why even waste breathe on the woman any longer. After last night and her toxic fumes. I'm done with it. So I'm making an oath to myself to avoid and desist from seeing her.

1 week I will not say her name
1 week I will not see her corroded mug
1 week I will not put any money into her business

Clearing the mechanism

Sometimes it takes getting away from the norm to get into the world I need to be in. Yesterday I went with Nick out to The Hootenany Ranch. I set up my perch on Jackson's deck with a beer and my laptop and my view is as shown below. The day was very hot but with a heavy breeze. I started writing a scene from a new book idea based on a dream that I blogged about awhile back called 'Endtime'. The scene is part of a thought and conversation with a fisherman from years ago and as I sat looking over the river that thought returned to me and I decided to use the kernel and this location for the book.

The river, the location everything was perfect.

An odd note... is that as I started in on this new book, I realized the characters name was also Jackson. Now that was a bit spooky, but right... all in the same moment.

As Nick finished working he came and sat down with us on the porch. Jackson, Nick, Keith, me and Simone in that order sat at the porch bar that overlooks the river and chatted. It came up that I had been writing and they asked about publishing as people always do. I tried back in December but not real hard, what writing really is too me is clearing the mechanism so that I don't have all the voices in my head.

We packed up and headed to town, stopping at the Brick for a cocktail and to order a Pizza from Village. We took the pizza home, ate and then headed down to the Eagles to watch the Mariners game. We stopped into the Pasttime as we headed home to see if the garden had been watered then decided to head home to water our garden and return for the band 'The Of.' I hopped in the shower and washed my lake from the day before and now river hair, then put on make-up and a cute outfit.

My favorite moment of the day came when Nick and I were sitting at a table at the Pasttime and Shiela showed up drunk and spewing her hatred. At one point he leans into me and says, "I liked watching you today, writing. You would look up and stare at the river, talk to yourself a bit and then nod and start writing, it was cool." I glanced over at him with wonder, because their is nothing I needed more then at that moment then to know that he was watching me without me knowing it and it was the sweetest thing to say while she sat across from us spewing her angst. 

I believe I had a hard time keeping my mouth shut at that table and probably have made an enemy. But after the last two days, I'm comfortable knowing what my man needs and wants. So I will be the better behaved classy woman and sting her when appropriate because the thing she wants most is mine anyway and that is the sweetest revenge.

The festering essay

Sitting down to write for thirty minutes timed.. time to start again.. maybe if I do write…all that is rotting with this constant onslaught of Sheila will subside. I don’t like the person I have become; worrying, insecure and needy.

That woman just makes my skin crawl with distaste. Now that is a good first line of a story. So I shall write a story.

The woman just makes my skin crawl with distaste. I’m harboring a festering stomach wound because of that sly, snarky and completely distasteful woman.  I’m shocked by my level of hate, distaste and rage this woman makes me feel. She is this year’s Karen Dardis. The only other woman in the world, I hate as much.

Last night I guiltily checked his texts again, standing in the dark of the kitchen at the counter. Actually I have to turn his phone on first as it lays there charging. Me I’m charged with guilt, resentment and a neediness that makes me feel like a worm. But again; I’m not shocked to find three from her and as I read one. “I want you in my bed again, it was lovely.” And the next “miss you.” My gut just dropped to the floor in agony and then I was so coldly pissed. Covered in chills and hit with a rage so deep I could envision myself lighting her business on fire or shooting out a window or what I so badly want to do is come up on her in an alley some night while she is drunk and toss a bag over her head and run her face down a brick wall.

I cannot stand this woman. She is like no one I have ever come across with her mean personality, buying and bullying friends and belittling them as she does it all.

I could not sleep and when I did it was fitful. A storm rolled through and I thought my heart would break with the dark thoughts of not having in him my life anymore, not sharing the summer storms we love so much. I love this man. I got up and took the soft blanket with me, wrapping it around me while I rolled a cigarette and then went outside to sit on the porch in the dark.

Waiting for the lightning.

Waiting for the thunder.

Alone. Wishing he was sharing this storm with me, but so sad that it might never happen again. Beating myself up over and over about why he would be with me if he is having sex with her. When was he doing it, why? How often? The questions raged through me, but always returning to why? I have given him so many chances to be with her if he wants to, why does he stay and act like he cares, if he is fucking her? Tears start in my eyes and raindrops hit my face and the blanket. I reach down to move the blanket out of the rain a bit. The dark Prussian western sky lights up with a searing piece of lightning, making me blink in shock and blindness. A wind brings goosebumps to my arms, I rub the rain off them as well.  The lightning, It is followed slowly by thunder in the mountains. I put out my cigarette and wipe my face, moving tears and rain away and go back to bed. I had texted him previously. “Shouldn’t go to bed early and leave your cell phone laying around dirtbag. This you will get in the morning right after her lovely bed comment. You are such a lying piece of shit.” Then later I sent another. “Fuck you.” All night I warred with myself about what to do and say to him. One minute I wanted to throw cold water on him, the next, hoping beyond anything we were even and that he would pick me. I must of fell asleep because he woke me, walking past the guest room where I was sleeping. I wished he could hear how much I needed him to be the man I need him to be.

As the sun came up, I finally got up and took a shower and dressed. Hoping to get the pain fullest of days started. How could he deny it now? How could he keep lying to my face about it? I glanced down at him with resentment, he was sleeping so peacefully and he looked so sweet as I put on yesterday’s pants and tank tops.  I went to the couch and tried to read, wrote some in my diary and tried to sleep yet again. I give up.

Tossing the phone on the bed and waking him. I say “You better read your messages, because I would like to get this day over with.”

He reads them and I carefully watch his blue green eyes taking in the tan of his skin as he lays tangled in sheets. Looking more sexy than a man should be allowed first thing in the morning. His blue eyes they are clear of alcohol, they are clear of guilt and he says abruptly “I’m not fucking her, I swear I’m not. I have never been in her bed.”

“Then why does she say this shit, why does she keep texting this shit?”

“I don’t know. I told her to stop.”

“I want to believe you, but why would she say this stuff.”

He pulls me into bed with him, and I want to believe in him so very badly it makes me want to cry in fear, lack of trust and hope. He wraps his arms around me and he smells my hair.“Did you shower, already?”

“I couldn’t sleep because that woman is eating me alive.” I lay there and we are both silent for a long time. Finally I say,“there was a storm last night.”

“I know I watched it, when I woke up at four to pee and smoke. It was raining so hard. I woke up and put my hand to where you were supposed to be and you weren’t there.” I smile at the dresser as I stare across the room lying in his arms, his body heat taking the sting out of the night. Wondering if he wished I had been awake for the storm with him at the same time, just like I had earlier missed him.

He says into my hair and neck, “why did you sleep in the other room?”

“You were hogging the bed and snoring like a freight train, again.”

He pulls me tighter into him, his breath comes over my shoulder and then his voice. “I turned my phone off last night.”

“I know,” I say guiltily, “it’s making me crazy that she texts you and I just could not help myself.”

I sigh and roll over to put my head on his chest, glad that he is here and yet still my heart is so heavy.

Gossip Girls

Gossip is idle talk or rumor about the personal or private affairs of others. It is one of the oldest and most common means of sharing facts, views and slander.

Of late; there are vicious rumors, rooms full of them, that abound and taunt. A vicious cycle. A vicious circle. How does one keep faith? How does one get any sleep?

I find myself at the heart of it, defending someone I care about very much. So what could be worse than gossip? That is simply the word doubt. My brain swirls, turns and bumps into things all night. Do you know that bump I'm talking about? You are just about to sleep, and you bump into a thought and all hell breaks loose in your head and you jump back into yourself with a jolt like you have bumped into a wall.

Last night I tossed and turned, rolled and sighed all night long. Doubt, jealousy and a bit of rage at this place I'm suddenly living in, in my life. Doubting what I know, doubting what he says. Wishing to have the old 'happy place' days back because I'm terrified to trust him enough to trust him. Because that little nagging bitch, called doubt is killing my trust that I'm so terrified will be thrown in my face like those meth lies of old.

It makes doubt winning over truth and I don't want it too. Popping Tums like candy to settle it.

People approaching me in a "delicate" manner. People asking out of concern. People just fucking talking. Questioning me with their opinion of what is going on. Wanting to know, wanting to share. I fucking hate it. Interlopers, seemingly trying to make me aware of something I'm well aware of for crying out loud.

But who is the worse threat, really?

Him
Her
Myself

Catch & Release

Writing, blogging and art have all taken a back seat with my yard project. Although I did finish one painting last week. I need to start setting a timer and make myself spend some time on writing. I find that writing is similar to painting for me. Sometimes the creativity is just not there and I need time to dwell, soak and process. Let it out in other ways to get to the good stuff.

The new last frontier

Departing Bonfire

Nick is off working in Nak Nek, Alaska. He flew out April 27th and I have been busy keeping myself busy. Stayed at my sisters and helped my Mom with the kids while she was at Whistler. I went to this cool grocery store at The Great Wall Mall and then to Ikea. My Chicka's visited. I went to Alpental. I have serious garden plans and even more yard plans. Oh and I painted.. Been damn-ass busy.

Their back in ak

The most important thing I have started to do is work out. I have been attending classes at Roslyn Fitness and then after class yesterday I went on a bike ride with Kelly to hunt mushrooms. A total of 2.1/2 miles. While it was strictly flat.. it was a bike ride on top of step class. Today was Zumba.. tomorrow will be step again and a bike ride to tennis.. I'm hoping to be a hard body..hot mama in a month when my man comes home. Bikini season is coming and got to fight the middle age spread.

I though I might possibly die when I thought about exercising because it has been so long. But I was fine..must have been all the walking that helped. I'm sleeping hard, playing hard and missing Nick. Oh I almost forgot.. the Roslyn Photo shoot. A camera company came to town and needed locals for a photo shoot.

photo shoot

The Mesh of a sirens song.

Armitage Siren

Sometimes it's not about the money.
Sometimes it is about the quality of a man.

Every person has bad and good qualities. And sometimes it's about whether two people can mesh and make it work in the bad times. For the last three months, maybe more I have had this man pursuing me that is not Nick.

I have had a large amount of pressure placed on me, about what and who might be better for me. I have done some thinking and today I'm being honest with myself about what and who I want in my life.

Nick is a drinker. Nick is young. But he is a good man. He does not come with a lot of money and he sorely tries my patience sometimes. But we mesh well. He loves to have fun, he makes me laugh my ass off. He loves to eat good food. He likes to cook, garden, read. He is smart and educated. He is thrilled to watch a Disney movie. He is watching Downton Abbey with me. I just like the guy.
Actually I love the guy.

So when there is pressure about "this so called better man for me" from the locals. Is it really true? How does anybody else know what is really best for me, besides me.

Today I changed my haircolor, to a deep brown red... Have you ever had the experience of or heard the term a sirens calling.. siren song? The term "siren song" refers to an appeal that is hard to resist but that, if heeded, will lead to a bad conclusion. Well this evening I walked downtown to get the mail and Nick was at the Pasttime so I stopped in and said hi. He was happy to see me. Everybody was happy to see me. He had to make some phone calls and stepped outside, I had a package to deliver and stepped outside as well and mentioned that I was going to deliver it. I walked up to the Eagles and the person that I was going to deliver the package to happened to be driving down the street. I handed him the package and he drove along side me as I walked. Flirting. Suddenly from behind me there is another man hollering at me and following me. Flirting. I walk back to Nick and have all these men following me. Is it the change in hair color? 

Back into the bar and it is suddenly a gaggle of men, trying to grab my attention. I blush and become flustered as everybody makes comments about the men following me as well.  Tonight, thinking back on it, reflecting on it I think of the term siren, I don't care much for the "bad end" part of it, so I also think about other ways to follow..dogs chasing a scent and bee's to honey. 

But in all honesty what made these men follow and pursue me so blatantly when I'm taken?

Nick left with me and he is the one I want to follow me.

You don't become a legend without a fight.

I have been watching the new series from the History Channel, Vikings. Pretty good shit. That is one of the time periods I enjoy exploring and reading about. The show is filmed in Ireland as well. It's also cool that I can watch it free on Hulu when I don't have regular television.

Between work, yard and the man I have been pretty busy this spring. We have been making plenty of babies...Our joke... Since we will most likely not have children together. In my dining room placed on the floor is a litter of containers growing garden starts. "Our babies."
This week they have just gone nuts. Yesterday we had to move the beans and peas to bigger pots and if the weather is good the kids are put outside to play.

Brussel Sprouts
Beans
Peas
Strawberries
Blackberries
Rasberries
Basil
Thyme
Oregano
Spinach
Cucumber
Sunflower

These are the ones I can think of without getting up to look. Nick has also built and installed two of the four raised beds we have planned. I have always enjoyed gardens. Just never have I done one with quite so much precision, planning and work.

Nick heads out to Alaska in just a short while. So we are trying to get all this done before he leaves. In my neighborhood there are many gardens. I can walk down the sidewalk or the alley and see many ideas and locations. In recent years my yard had become the host to wilderness. Slowly we have tamed the beast. Somebody asked me recently..what are you going to do when it's done? What will you do with your time?

"Maintenance... but also some relaxing in it."

The plan is to have barbeques, parties and live music on the starpad.

Landscaped

Lovely is how pliable the earth is right now in my yard. The shovel slices through the dirt, like a fork through chocolate cake. It crumbles, it is rich in color a dense dark chocolate so moist and rich and so very malleable. I have cut swathes of steps, walls and terraces in my backyard.

Spring comes and goes, winter comes and goes... they are playing ping pong with each other. This week it is winter and it has snowed every day. I'm at that point in winter when the tease and taunt of the spring days we have had, make it painful to have snow and wind. Eager to get out there again.

Hugs and Rugs

The most striking memorable moment of being in the moment was the group that gathered. There are core groups that meet, live and enjoy the life of a small town. This was a gathering composed of all of those to celebrate a woman's life. It was amazing how she had touched every single core group and every person there, she had somehow touched their lives. We should all hope to achieve that kind of memorial service. Whether it was her kindness, her art or her friendship. She mattered and it showed.
The brick room was full of people saddened at her loss but happy to celebrate her life.

Molly Palmer of the bewitching blue eyes died on Monday March 4th. There was Jameson on hand, wine and two kegs of beer. People gathered in the renovated NWI building to celebrate her life. Two long rows of food and a separate section of dessert. Molly would have blushed and said "This all is for me?"

I looked around the room at her woven rugs hanging from the walls and railings and then at the group of people and thought, I want to achieve this. I want to live a life well and be remembered with such love.

I worked with Molly for three years at the Post Office, and would cover for her while she was on vacation. When I left the Post Office it was to take the job at the City of Roslyn. There I worked with her husband Joe for three years. It was during this time that they sold my house to me. They had many low ball offers, but Joe accepted mine and I purchased the last good deal in Roslyn. I planned to renovate the house as it was, and Joe and Molly liked that and sold it to me.

She made beautiful rugs and one summer just before they went on vacation I visited their house so that I could take care of their garden while they were gone. I got a tour of the looms, the garden, the house. Her garden was fabulous and the looms even more so. I have one of her rugs, it is beautiful and has traveled with me. The last time I saw Molly was at the grand opening of "Made in Roslyn." We hugged and I introduced her and Joe to Nick. She had submitted rugs and I a watercolor of 5th Street.

At the service Jen spoke of Molly and her three hug rule. Hug those around you and the people you are sharing your life with. As I sat with a group of people I have known and loved in Roslyn, throughout the afternoon I sat in the same place but people would come and set and the characters of Roslyn would change at my table. I hugged many of them, because I have shared my life with them and as we left for the day we were asked to take pots of flowers to plant and remember her by.

I selected the primroses that had sat at my table and will plant them in Molly's other yard that is now mine. I made plans to help Joe in his garden in the spring, Lani who had guided us at the Post Office had made a suggestion when I asked what should I do for him? He will be heart broken without her. What should I do? She in her infinite wisdom said, in my experience it is best to set a date two months from now to stop in and visit him. So I offered to come over and help in the garden, he said that would be wonderful, but you don't have to wait for that day to visit. He is right.

It was beautiful and she would have gushed and blushed. "This all for me? Oh you guys." The place was packed and her rugs and art were everywhere. Two sections of food and another whole one of just desserts, then the bar in another separate area, well stocked with Jameson and wine, Ball jars filled with Roslyn water and two kegs of beer.

I sat with the Beardsleys, Maria and Dino and the thought that kept coming to mind was "I want to achieve this."

We ate and talked and caught up and I saw so many people and different generations. It was just a beautiful memorial. Joe's five sisters were there and Molly's oldest brother surrounded by all the lives she had touched. After everyone ate, her closest friends spoke and the stories were amazing followed by a slide show with her favorite songs. Then the community could speak and share. Oh and this was preceded by a toast of Jameson by all in little dixie cups. After this the local musicians gathered and played. People came and went. All the generations and core groups that form or have formed Roslyn were there. Just beautiful and she would have been tickled pink but embarrassed just the same.

One of the most entertaining moments... Jan Skiba came and sat at our table and mentioned asking Stan if he thought her new haircut made her look like a lesbian. (It was my first thought when i saw her.) Then she talked about Joe, being single now and what a great catch he was with all that gorgeous red hair. 

But winter beckons

Thursday Jim and Kelly arrive to help me move the last two piles of tree limbs. The snow flakes swirl around us as we work, sometimes they stick and sometimes they don't. After we finish we head off to dump the load and go to lunch. When I come home I light a fire in my fire pit and start burning yard debris. Looking around in satisfaction they yard keeps getting better and better. A couple more loads and I will have it under control... with a plan.

Then Friday roles around, along with a snowstorm. Saturday it snows all day as well. Winter has not forgotten us. But at least when it melts I will be a step ahead of the game.

I also started writing snippets of a new book, with regards to the dream that I mentioned. On a day off why is it so hard to pick one thing to do? Is it guilt? 

Spring has Sprung

Time progresses.

I woke from a dream the other day, vague but intoxicating. The snippet of it as I came to consciousness, intriguing me in wonder and surprise. The premise? A woman who owns a whore house in post apocalyptic Utah. She builds her house of ill repute next door to a man who owns a livery. A man to protect her and the woman she employs. He was furious in the dream, that of all the property she owns she located her business next to his. She did it for security and because he was sexy.

Interesting dream I thought eyes closed and melted back into it to make it stick, comfortable under the weight of the quilt I made and the heft of the down comforter on top of that. The flash of it all. Dreams are that fast just seconds most of the time.

Today is like that morning I have gone back to bed after seeing Nick of to go fishing with his buddy Corey. I lay under the warmth of the covers in the chilled house. I have a rare day of no plans and alone with myself for a change of pace. What to do? It is sunny outside and the snow has all but gone in the last week. In February this is rare and Spring has come very early. Yard work? Write? Cook? Entertain? Friends? Lay around and watch movies? So many choices and so therefore I wander about the house trying to figure it out and achieving nothing.

This dream is in my mind all the time; haunting me and trying to figure it out... pulling it together for some kind of book, I think that I might write... and some great sentences come to mind from some recent conversations.

I'm going to grow old with you. The grass is not greener on the other side of the fence. No sometimes the grass is lush and verdant.

I treat myself to McDonald's figuring if I eat, I will get motivated. I also make three phone calls to friends....nobody answers I leave messages. As I munch on my lunch on a dirt side road I call my sister she answers and we catch up. She tells me Miss O had made a request, to see the house Nick worked on when we visited last Saturday. Very cute. She has an epic crush on the guy. He is pretty damn cute and special. We finish up our conversation and I head home to work in the yard. As the sun sets and the sky darkens I head into the house to finish this blog. Nick and I plan to make pizza and watch a movie. I have achieved most of the things I wanted to do today.