You Only Get What You Give.

Once there was a girl who packed up her whole life to move to the big city. She stumbled and fell right out of the chute; but she brushed herself off, held her head high and carried on. She met new people along the way, some that became structural parts of her life, while others stayed for just a while.

She pledged to keep in close contact with the good friends that she had left behind, they were the forever kind, the ones no matter the distance would always be there or so she thought. She took advantage of that way of thinking and forged ahead with her new, exciting life.

Her exciting, crazy, out of control, superficial kind of life. Oh there was fun to be had, but it came with a price and she neglected the bill until it was long past due.

Days turned to weeks and weeks to years, the fun continued; it was a party almost every day of the week. The girl was having the time of her life, it filled a selfish, shallow void that real relationships could not. No thinking, no feeling, no responsibility, no commitments, no pressure, no emotion.

Just emptiness.

Like all things, the party eventually came to end and it was time to carry on with the life she once knew, but it was a little too little too late. All of those "forever" friends that she pushed to the wayside and lied to through the years, on her quest for the frivolous; the ones that she thought would always be there when she finally came calling, we're gone. She had killed them all off one by one without even knowing it.

When they needed her, she hadn't been there and when her time came, they re-payed her by giving her back exactly what she had given.

Mistakes made, lessons learned and tons of soul searching. The girl vowed to be a better person and she is to this very day. Instead of pushing the tough stuff aside in exchange for a pretty, cosmetic existence, she learned to stay put and fight hard for the things that matter most in this life.

Honesty, truth, respect, reliability, consistency, communication, family, friendship, love.

She gives what she hopes and expects to get in return. While it doesn't always happen that way, she still gives without fault, because there was a time, not too long ago, that she wasn't able to "get" all of the good that she'd been given.

She accepted that life sometimes begins when the fun ends.

All That Shimmers

It is a terribly crushing feeling when something you believed in lets you down. I mean it happens, I am not naive. My own 14-karat gold plating has been rubbed off a time or two, unveiling nothing but cold hard metal underneath. It's the part of life that no one likes to talk about and tries like hell to avoid, but no matter what, it will always happen.

I've been through quite a few different emotions as of late. I was giddy and excited and hopeful and open to something new and beautiful...and although not a real word, I guess you could say I was feeling a little "smittenish"and for once in a long while, it felt like a good place to be.

I found myself smiling more and being silly for no reason; people took notice of my happiness. Oh my happy; it was indeed a good place to be. And then, without warning that a storm was brewing, the lights went out, proving once again that all that shimmers in this world is sure to fade.

When a serious step needed to be taken, a different path was chosen; leaving me standing at the fork alone with my tears and disillusion. It could be a classic case of "poor me," but not for this girl. Remember behind those weepy eyes, I'm tough...right?!

I'm made of cold hard metal beneath my skin, just like you.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, "Every wall is a door." For every obstacle that we encounter in this life, there is always a way over it. There is nothing that can prevent us from getting through it and moving on, knowing that at the point of impact, we are the ones that hold the key to it's door.

My pursuit has not been dashed, it just begins again.

I will never lose sight of who I am and what I want. I'm true to myself, but recognize those who come into my life for a reason and change it for the better. Even the hardest of metals have their melting point.

Build Me Up Buttercup

I think that disappointment might be the cruelest of the emotions. When you're happy, your body is filled with joy. When you're sad, your body weeps, but when you're disappointed, well that is a tough one to deal with.

By definition, the word itself means "depressed or discouraged by the failure of one's hopes or expectations." Fair enough, but to fully appreciate disappointment for what it is, you have to a clear understanding of the word hope, "the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best."

Hope is the angel, disappointment is the devil that puts the kibosh on all of those glorious daydreams and leaves you wondering if you weren't just hallucinating everything that happened up until the point the bubble was burst.

Hope is the free fall, filled with spontaneous butterflies and a heart so filled with glee it could burst at any minute and you wouldn't care. Disappointment is when you realize that you're strapped to a faulty chute, knowing that at any moment you might come crashing down and that every emotion that you felt prior is overcome with disillusion.

Disappointment is like a cancer. It is an unwelcome invasion that intrudes upon and destroys everything in it's path. Disappointment is the Mac Daddy of affliction, unlike other emotions that define a particular feeling, disappointment uses it's poison to combine a whole slew of singular emotions to feed it's disease. Anger, hate, resentment, anxiety, sadness, aggravation. I could go on and on, but you get it.

Back in the day the most effective way for my parents to "punish" me was to let me know just how disappointed they were in relation to some thing I had done. It cut like a knife and left me to analyze what exactly I needed to do so that they never felt that way again. I'm not sure what is worse, to disappoint or be the one left disappointed, either way it is a tumultuous shit show of disgust.

I figuratively went to bed with disappointment last night and awoke to find it still sleeping nest to me. Seriously, just who do you think you are? Please, for once, just make up some lame excuse, throw on your clothes and get the hell out! I don't want or need you in my life! I have been used and abused by just about every emotion out there, but you sir are the worst.

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.