Because bad taste is better than no taste at all.....

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

#329: 11/04/15

The reply to the text was abrupt .Who is this it read, and I had to smile. So he's going to be that way about it. Well. Goodbye. It was nice talking to you. I thought I'd give you a chance at a 'normal' conversation. Thanks anyway. I almost added too bad, you were kind of cute, but thought that would be pushing it and more than likely a waste of time. I don't know what sort of response I had been expecting. Maybe a no, can we please still talk? . All this went down in September.

So the other day I finally deleted the number, along with some other ones cluttering up my phone. There was no indication he still had mine or that he wanted to talk to me any more.

Halloween was a non-day for me. It being a Saturday, I of course had to be at work at 5 am to cook breakfast, so my idea for a costume consisted of cat ears. The boss showed up as a big piece of candy corn--Being pregnant, it was about the only costume that would fit. I still thought she was cute. 

Thanksgiving is now in the works--the Megs will be visiting, and this adventure apparently has me heading towards Atlanta to pick her up. I'm not too thrilled about this, but I'm going along with it to keep the peace.

I went to the park last week, to see how the leaves were changing. I got a few good photographs.  I was hoping to take some more this week, but it's been raining pretty much these past few days and not really worth getting wet for.  Perhaps in a couple of days it will dry out enough for a little hike up the hill again.

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

#328: What am I thinking?

Another raccoon attribute seems to be that we seem to get into things that maybe aren't so good for us. Well, I have gotten into something that would make many raise their eyebrows and ask what I am thinking?

An interesting statement, that. "What were you thinking?" is something you ask when it was a bad idea, and you're trying to comprehend what made the person do it. Usually the reply is something to the effect, "Well, I guess I wasn't thinking at all..." but you know that is a lie--they had to have been thinking something.

In my case, I perhaps thought it was a good idea at the time? Me, who has always boasted about common sense, and all that.... But not showing much at the present time.

It seems like all the interesting times in my life have been when the weirdness enters. I seem to remember wishing the weirdness to return, and it appears to be. But not necessarily for the right reasons. But this weirdness is a delicious feeling, compared to the last few weeks. It is very difficult to stop. And I don't know, honestly, which direction it will go, if indeed it will go any where at all.

Sadly, this isn't the first time I have done this. The last time did not end so well; you'd think I would have learned my lesson.... But this... this just FEELS different. Even though I know it cannot end any better than the first time I tried it... I am hearing all the right things, and know enough to not take it too much as I'd like to... it is difficult to not get hooked on. It's like an addiction you're standing on the edge of. You know better, yet why not? 

I'm seeing the chance to change me, to be what I want to be emotionally, yet it might not be so good for others involved. So I am torn--To me, or not to me?

Stay tuned.

Monday, October 12, 2015

#327: the missing piece

I look up past the tarp covering the metal frame over my head. The tarp is blue and almost matches the sky peeking through the tree branches that are now beginning to decorate themselves with yellow leaves. There's sweet gum trees, and oak, and something that I think might be a persimmon, but have never got close enough to see if any fruit falls from it. Pretty soon it will be time to take the tarp down for the winter, and put away the folding chairs, and the cushions. I still haven't found a home for those plants yet.

At the moment, I'm hearing several noises--that of the music on my computer, and the breeze moving the wind chime about 8 feet away. I'm also hearing the neighbor's lawn mower. I'll be hearing ours once Dent gets home; I suppose our yard could do with a trim, if only to chew up the leaves that have fallen over the past week or so. Autumn is officially here, says the coolness in the air.

Tomorrow evening I go back to work. I'm a bit peeved they have scheduled me at night again. It's almost adding insult to injury when I open mainly only on the weekends (the other openers claim they don't have childcare--I don't buy this. More like they're too good to work weekends....)

I'm still puzzling in my head, about things people have lately said to me. People whom I have never met in real life and so should have no bearing on my daily life. Yet they do. I think about them all the time. And why they say the things they do.  Things I should be hearing from people who are actually a part of my life, but don't say them at all.

..............Almost as if there's a piece of me missing, that these online strangers are holding on to, that I didn't know was missing. And unfortunately, knowing now that it was missing, I cannot reach it, either with the ones in my own life, or the strangers waving that piece in front of my virtual nose. It is almost painful, these things people say. Yet I do not want it to stop, because the illusion is often stronger than reality.

It is both wonderful and horrible at the same time.

There is perhaps a faint part of me that, having seen what others are capable of doing, hope to find it again, this thing that I did not know I had lost. It's a bit like pulling away a band-aid--there is something new to be found, if only you can get past the pain of getting there.

I don't know if you folks out there are really getting what I am trying to say.

But I know no other way to express it.

Stay tuned.

Thursday, October 8, 2015

#326: This time of year

I love this time of year. The mushrooms seem to come out of nowhere. These look a little bit different than the ones I spotted last year. Some people have a problem with these, and don't want them growing in the yard. I find though, if you leave them alone, they aren't around for very long. They'll turn black in a week or two, and ooze back into the ground.  
 It's been a good day to drag out the old camera and get a few "snaps" in. I was impressed on how some of them turned out, since my camera doesn't always pick up small things like it should.

I spent this morning picking up some of the stuff left over from the storm, and putting things out I'd put away, and putting things UP that didn't need to be out. Then I pulled out the broom and swept around the picnic table. It was at that point I found Scratch's house all covered in leaves and things, and realized she needed a hand in cleaning up her yard, too. So I got to work, and it didn't take too long.  

I also cleaned up my "moss garden", which was a lot greener underneath the fallen leaves. All that rain from last week really perked the green stuff up.

Stay tuned!


Wednesday, October 7, 2015

#325: Beating against the glass

It's a bit difficult when you see something you want, and know you can never have it.

As I sit and type, the only other sound in the room is coming from the book case. There's this old clock with a unicorn on it, that has somehow managed to survive the trip from Georgia, to NC, to Tennessee, and back again. The unicorn is missing the very tip of its horn; and a foreleg has been glued back on, multiple times as the old glue wears away. But it is still, more or less, intact.

It is very loud in the room.

My birth certificate came in the mail a couple of weeks ago. Not too long after I'd sent off for it, actually. This surprised me a little, considering the name change. I had expected some sort of confirmation of who I was other than the drivers license I had photocopied and taped to the sheet. Could the rest be as easy, I can only hope.

I grow weary of the tick-tick-tick, so I put on some music. I could just as easily have taken the battery out of the clock, but then the silence would be complete, and this is even more unnerving than the steady pulse of time, ticking away over there by the Tolkien books that have also managed the trip to hell and back.

That, and I'm not sure it's the clock that is ticking away, more like my heart. Beating solo, with apparently no other heart to keep pace with.

At the moment, Dent is in a classroom about 20 miles away. I had to be a bit tough on him this morning. I had to be out the door a little after 4 this morning, and I needed to make sure he was awake before I left. "I'll be awake when the alarm goes off" he tells me (in 30 minutes.)
"Uh.... ,no?" I say. "Get up now..." He laughs. He laughs...I am not laughing. I shouldn't be still having to run him out of bed just so he'll get to work in the morning on time.

Tomorrow ought to be spent putting the Halloween decorations BACK out, now that we're no longer worried about the world floating away.... Or maybe I'll do something totally different. Who knows?

I had to use THAT analogy today. That of a bird beating against a windowpane. That that's my life right now. I'm stifled, and squashed, and bored, and impatient, and maybe, just maybe, a little lonely. I can't breathe, in the mental sense, and I'm not sure I can make anyone understand this. To understand what it truly means.

I suppose I will have to open my own window, as no one seems to be able to do it for me.

Stay tuned.