Hello Emotions, Meet My Sleeve

I am a hot mess when it comes to my emotional well-being! This isn't something that just happened over night, it has been a constant thorn in my side for as long as I can remember. For someone with such a confident facade you would think that I would be able to keep it all in check, but in stressful situations I turn into a sucky baby, complete with tears. And when I say tears, I'm not talking that misty-eyed, dewy look that you see in the movies, I'm talking full on eyes red and swollen waterworks or as Oprah would call it, "the ugly cry."

The ugly cry ain't pretty folks! It is often accompanied by lots of snot and hyperventilation, which really helps to seal the hot mess deal. The more I try to control it, the harder I usually end up sobbing. It is a foolish reaction on my part and frustrating because there is nothing that I can do to stop it. So I cry and I cry and cry some more. Sometimes I cry so hard that I can't even form a simple word. When it does finally come out it sounds as if I've been afflicted with some horrible form of Tourettes.

Not only is it uncomfortable for me, but for anyone on the receiving end of that shit thinks they've stabbed me to the core with their otherwise harmless words. It really isn't you, it's me. You aren't hurting me any more than you would if I were able to man up a little. I just look and act as if I were, so please carry on, I am fine dammit!

When it comes to crying, I am pretty consistent. I make the exact same face today as I did as a toddler. Same big pouty lips and one of the most tragically sad expressions ever. I'd feel sorry for me if I had to look at myself. Crumbling on the outside, shaken but stoic on the inside.

When I was little my Mom would often play the "Free to Be, You and Me" album for me, there was a song on it called "It's Alright to Cry and to this day every time that I cry I can hear Rosey Grier's voice singing, "It's alright to cry, crying gets the sad out of you. It's alright to cry, it might make you feel better." It really does! A good cry, in my opinion, is therapeutic. It may not take all the sad away but it sure does help.

Crying is such a normal reaction for me, it is hard to imagine someone not crying. Holding all that pent-up pain and emotional stress inside can't be healthy! It manifests itself into destructive behaviors and aggression. It is unimaginable to me how someone could bottle that all up inside. I also can't imagine a life without a stable shoulder to rest your head on and a sympathetic ear to listen. Someone who can ultimately reel you back into reality.

My father is a perfect sounding board for these kind of events. He loves to tell me in his slow, southern drawl "Sugar, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger." My response is always, "Well then I should have the strength of 10 men by now!" I really hated that expression for a long time because although I wasn't dead, I sure as hell didn't feel any stronger! Not after the first, fifth or thirtieth time he said it to me. Why? Because I didn't actually accept the context in which he meant it. After years of reflection, I know that he means my heart, mind and spirit.

Sure hearts break, but they eventually mend. Minds get lost, but are found in good time and spirits crushed, but never completely stripped away. I will rebuild. My foundation will be stronger, my perception wiser and my affection returned to it's rightful owner.

I'm just not there quite yet, but it will happen. In the meantime, it's alright to cry.

Oh. My. Happy.

I have learned in life that good things don't come easy and the happy is one of them. Just when you find it there will always, always be something that tries to prevent you from keeping it. It's the struggle to hold on that makes it all worthwhile in the end.

The best happiness often comes when your least expect it. You don't find it, it finds you; often in places that you'd never even imagined before. You'll want to question it, but you don't because it just feels right, so go with it. Just close your eyes, take a breath and jump into the deep end without reservation.

A month ago to the day, I stumbled across just that. It was a tiny bit of accidental happy that I didn't see coming and I really wasn't sure what to do with. I could have easily put it in a box and quietly stored away on some dreary shelf as I've done with so many things in my past, but I didn't, not this time. I'd clipped my own wings for far too long, it was time to fly.

It didn't come without a certain level of conflict. There have been layers of idiosyncrasies to overcome and deal with, but in the end invaluable enough to do exactly that. Fight hard and fight well for everything good that you believe in, it's worth the struggle to hold on.

So, off I go. Where I fall is where I land. Loose ends may tangle down, but once they take flight they will never bind. Look out happiness, I got you in my sights.

Friends in Low Places

My Facebook page will superficially show that I have hundreds of so called "friends," but when it comes down to it, I choose to surround myself with an intimate group of people who define the true meaning of the word. Benevolence, favoritism, loyalty...call it what you will, these people fill my heart with unconditional love and support.

From the outside looking in, we could not be more different. Each of us comes from very diverse backgrounds and social stature. If we passed on the street as strangers, chances are our paths would never cross again, but somehow fate brought us together and we live happily in an imperfectly perfect world.

Life could not be more sweet.

These are the people that I'd risk it all for and without a shadow of a doubt know that they would do the same for me. Most of them have seen me at my very worst and still accept me without prejudice. They've picked me up, dried my tears, told me the things that I didn't always want to hear, but sure as shit needed to and held my hand until the sun shone again.

They are the ones who will bring you strawberry pancakes in the middle of the night, just because they were nowhere near an IHOP!

With me they celebrate the best that life has to offer. We share countless stories, the down and dirty ones that only a true friend can appreciate, laugh til it hurts, stop the world when we need one another and occasionally party like rock stars. Sure, there may be a little puke along the way, but I will always hold your hair back as long as you promise to hold mine.

It is a sickly sweet love affair.

I can genuinely say that I am enchanted with each and every one of them. It took me years to find them all and now that I got 'em, I wouldn't trade them now...not ever. I appreciate each of them for exactly who they are and am filled with true affection knowing that they will take me just as I am, quirks and all.

You know who you are and I got nothing but love for ya.

A Time to Say Goodbye

I knew this day would come but all the preparation in the world doesn't make it any easier. Today is the day that I will have to put my 19 year old cat Shadrach to sleep.

I have watched him grow from a wild kitten into a 20 pound tom cat and I have watched him deteriorate from that bad ass physique into a frail 6 pound old man. In human years he is close to 100.  He is in kidney failure, last night he lost the ability to move his hind legs, it's time to say goodbye.

The earliest appointment I could get was for this afternoon, it feels like forever and it feels cruel to prolong his suffering. I'm trying really hard to put on the brave face but I know that soon I will fall to pieces.

My heart is breaking knowing that in just a few hours he wil be gone from my life forever. I know that some will say, "Get over it, he was only a cat!" but he was my cat and has seen me through all of my adult life.  So if that is what you are thinking right now, don't say it out loud.

Shadrach was named after a Beastie Boys song from the album "Paul's Boutique." Cool song, cool name, cool cat.

You were so loved and will be greatly missed Shat cat.

So Very Thankful

Today is Thanksgiving.

A day to simply pause, remember and give thanks.

On many other days I find myself suffering the guilt of the almighty "covet." Stressing over the things that I don't have, salivating over the things that I want and dreaming of the things that I hope to one day have.

On days like today, when I stop and let the quiet that surrounds me take hold, free of all the chaotic clutter that often clouds my judgement, I can openly reflect on the things that matter most, the things that I am exceptionally grateful for and how blessed my life truly is.

In my otherwise cynical little world, it is one of the few days where sappy salutations and attention to the lovey dovey are totally acceptable!

I am appreciative for the simple things, my health,  a roof over my head, a car that runs, gainful employment, food in my fridge, a case of Diet Dr. Pepper in my pantry, a roomful of Pottery Barn furniture that I got with my huge employee discount, a ridiculous looking dog and two scrunchy cats; one of which has just celebrated his 18th Thanksgiving dinner of Friskies turkey and byproduct canned cat food by my side.

So I'm a crazy cat lady, don't judge! Besides which, Shadrach is the only man in my life that has stuck with me through thick and thin, loves me for me, rarely gives me any sassy talk back and keeps me warm at night.

That stuff is the icing, but the cake...the delicious innards are what is the most satisfying. I mean, who wants to cut into a beautifully decorated confectionary only to find a worn out, bland brick of nothingness?

I want the red velvet and the opportunity to eat it every day...and I do, thanks in part to the two things that matter most.

Family: Many believe that they "have the best one in the world" and maybe they do...in their own eyes, but from where I stand I could not ask for a better one. We Martins are far from perfection and at times even a little dysfunctional, but we have the roots that keep us strong and fertilizer needed to keep growing.

Our twisted branches tell a story of generations past and a future filled with hope. We are bold and bright; dazzling even.

Mom, Dad, Kelly, Kaylie, Emma and Rachelle, my immediate circle who keep me forever cocooned in affection and the gorgeous outer shell that makes up my extended family, one that spans the country and beyond.

We are an amazing group of individual personalities tied together under the family tree through fate. No matter the miles between us, each of them are with me every step of the way. They are my life, my insides and a cherished gift.

Friends: New and old. Over the years I have thankfully lost fewer than I have made. To those that I have forfeited along the way, I am grateful for what needed to be learned and appreciate the clarity given in return.

The oldies but goodies and the constants...the ones who without, my life would be humorless and empty. The ones who stick with you through the messy parts and the same ones who care enough to cut you down to size without all of the useless fluff; please continue to say the things that I don't always want but need to hear and I promise to always give back in return.

Some would say that there is no way that I could be truly happy, how could you without the companionship of a husband or the comfortable security that comes with a hefty bank account or the selflessness of being a parent?

There may be no logical explanation as to why, but simply put, I just am. The things that I've chosen for my life work for me; the love and laughter that surround me will always carry me through and for that I am so very thankful.

Insert Inappropriate Laughter Here

On paper, I am a grown woman. I have a decent job, I live in a nice apartment, I am a responsible pet owner and look pretty damn good for my age.  At first glance you'd think that I was a pretty together and responsible individual, but get to know me and you will soon realize that I have the mentality of a 13 year old boy; at times you might even question whether or not I was borderline retarded based solely on the things that I find humorous.

I don't remember my parents being such idiots when I was growing up, they always seemed so smart and refined, perhaps they just hid it well. Who knows what they were laughing at when I wasn't around.

As for me, I giggle with inappropriate delight when someone farts, falls down, hurts themselves, vomits, shits themselves, pees their pants, sports a boner or even talks about a sporting a boner.

At times I've even been known to crack up in serious situations like a funeral or in class. Stressful situations can also trigger an unbecoming melt down of hilarity.

During a high school field trip, my best friend Beth and I unsuccessfully tried to stifle our snickering after hearing the word "penis" during a court case. The more we tried to hold it back, the funnier it became until we finally burst into a fit of uncalled for amusement.

Speaking of penis, the only time that I have really questioned whether or not I had a serious problem was when I first started working in the ER. An ambulance brought in a CPR in progress, which by definition is NOT funny in the least bit.

For whatever reason the male patient was brought to us completely naked and every time someone pumped on his chest, his penis would bob up and down in rhythm with the compression cycle. It was tragic watching my colleagues struggling to save this man's life, but even more tragic was my own uncomfortable reaction...like an epic douche bag, I laughed.

Ah yes, you can always count on me for some ill-timed guffaws.

I blame my sister because the first incident that I can recall laughing at with great irreverence involved her. As the oldest, it was my job to look out for her. Our mother sent us down to the playground one afternoon, I was eight years old at the time and my sister four. She wanted to slide down the slide, so being the stellar guardian that I was, I stood at the foot of the ladder and watched patiently as she climbed the rungs, one by one. Damn if she didn't make it all the way to the top when her tiny foot missed a step and she came tumbling down like a scene from a Three Stooges skit.

It was like sweet slow-motion as I watched her chin hit each of the rungs coming down, the same ones that she had so painstakingly climbed up just moments earlier. The sound of bone hitting metal made a weird clacking sound, almost like a muffled gong. I didn't erupt until rungs two or three, but the sound in combination with the visual was clearly more than I could take and that is when it happened...I laughed.

The farther she fell, the harder I laughed, until it reached a point of sheer hysteria. I laughed as I dusted her off. I laughed at the sight of the blood spurting from the underside of her mandible. I laughed as I walked her home. I laughed as we entered the front door to our house. I laughed when my mother put hydrogen peroxide on her open wound and I laughed behind closed doors when I got sent to my room for laughing.

It was uncontrollable goodness, like I was going for the world record for longest period spent laughing without a break. Hell, I am laughing right now just thinking about it.

Sadly it was the beginning of a torturous life for my poor sister, but in all fairness she has laughed at my expense as well, so it is a win-win situation.

There really is nothing better in this world than laughing. For that moment, no harm can come my way. There is something so genuine and cleansing about a good laugh. All those silly things that they say about it being the best medicine are dead on.

Sometimes you've just got to find the funny and somehow, regardless of what is falling apart around me, I thankfully find it every day.

Red Velvety Goodness

I was raised by southern parents who instilled the importance of good manners. If someone does something nice for you, then you for damn sure better express a little gratitude!

I had some car troubles this week that took my ride out of commission for three days as it sat lifeless in the parking lot of the hospital that I work at. Through an amazing display of unexpected events and "pay it forward" moments, I got every where I needed to be with a little help from my friends.

So, just how do you thank so many for their kindness? Homemade cupcakes of course!

I spent yesterday afternoon in the kitchen whipping up three dozen red velvet cupcakes, they were so ridiculously good that I'm gonna pay it forward by sharing the recipe.

Cake Ingredients
2 1/4 cup flour
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup unsalted butter, softened
2 1/4 cup sugar
4 eggs
1 cup sour cream
1/2 cup buttermilk
1 (1 oz) bottle red food coloring
4 teaspoons pure vanilla extract


Directions
1. Preheat over to 350 degrees. Mix flour, cocoa powder, baking soda and salt in a medium bowl. Set aside.
2. Beat butter and sugar in a large bowl with an electric mixer on medium speed for 5 minutes or until light and fluffy. Beat in eggs, one at a time. Mix in sour cream, milk, food coloring and vanilla. Gradually beat in flour mixture on low speed until just blended. Do not over beat. Spoon batter into paper-linded muffin cups, filling each cup 2/3 full.
3. Bake 20 to 25 minutes or until toothpick inserted into cupcake comes out clean. Cool in pans on wire rack for 5 minutes. Remove from pans and cool completely.
4. Frost with Vanilla Cream Cheese Frosting. (recipe below)


Frosting Ingredients
1 1/2 (8 oz) package cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup butter, softened
3 tablespoons sour cream
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1 (16 oz) box confectioners sugar


Directions
1. Beat cream cheese, butter, sour cream and vanilla in a large bowl until light and fluffy.
2. Gradually beat in confectioners sugar until smooth.


Frost cupcakes generously and enjoy! 

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