Soundtrack: Volume Five - Summertime in Waco

I was the firstborn grandchild, the first of six Martin granddaughters. There was probably some disappointment that none of us were boys to carry on the Martin legacy, but you wouldn't have known it, because all we ever knew was love. Every day spent with my grandparents in Waco, Texas was like magic. Sadly they are no longer around to see the girl that they helped mold into the person I am today, but they are with me all the time and I know they're smiling down with pride.

My Grandfather coached me in the art of being a good tomboy. He took me to the dirt track races and the rodeos. We'd go to the fairgrounds and he'd let me ride as many of those rickety carny rides as I wanted, time didn't matter, we went home when the sun went down. He caught me a "pet" armadillo, showed me how to shoot beer bottles off a fence post and taught me to drive his red and white El Camino, while I sat on his lap, steering the wheel, while he worked the pedals. Had we ever gotten into some kind of accident, I'm sure he would have just brushed me off and told me that was God's way of toughening me up.

My Grandmother, she was strong as nails, but as close to a genuine southern belle as I've ever seen. She was glamorous, with the perfect Texas drawl, it sounded like melted butter and brown sugar. She always smelled amazing, I can't describe it, but I'd know that scent anywhere. She taught me the pretty side of being a girl. When I wasn't allowed to keep a wild armadillo as a pet, she gave me a kitten. I caught frogs in the backyard all dolled up like a little debutante in sundresses and pig tails. Every time we drove through a yellow light, she'd kiss the palm of her hand and press it to the ceiling of the car for good luck, something I still do to this day.

In me they instilled a wicked combination of elegance, brawn, brains, good solid Texas roots and an appreciation for great music.

Long before I worked in a record store, I learned about music from an old radio that sat on a nightstand between two twin beds at my grandparents house. By day it was all Country. Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, Tammy Wynette, George Jones, all the greats. I heard of Elvis Presley's death on that radio one hot August afternoon. By night it was tuned to a Big Band/Jazz station, that is the music that I can still hear when I drift off to sleep. It was the perfect soundtrack for slumber.

The radio sat directly under a mounted deer head. The glow of dial lit up the six-point buck's face in a gentle, calming way. My Grandfather told me that the rest of the deer lived behind the wall. As a child, I imagined it watching over my sister and me as we slept. Nothing could hurt us, if any potential harm came our way, I just knew that brave deer would bust through the wall and save us all. As a child it made perfect sense. That glass-eyed stag was my hero and every night before getting under the covers, I'd stand on my bed and kiss it on the nose in a gesture of thanks for keeping us safe.

Summers in Waco, that is where it all began. Tomboys, girlie girls and fine, fine music.

Soundtrack: Volume Five July 22, 2013

Destination Moon - Dina Washington
Let's Get Lost - Chet Baker
Knock Me a Kiss - Louis Jordan
It's Raining - Irma Thomas
Got My Own Thing Now - Squirrel Nut Zippers
Miserlou - Dick Dale
Feeling Good - Nina Simone
What'll I Do - Rosemary Clooney
Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered - Ella Fitzgerald
Begin the Beguine - Sheryl Crow
Someone to Watch Over Me - Ella Fitzgerald
Smoke Gets in Your Eyes - The Platters
Me and Mrs. Jones - Billy Paul
Night and Day - Ray Charles
A Kiss to Build a Dream On - Louis Armstrong
The Girl From Ipanema - Astrud Gilberto/Stan Getz
De-Lovely - Robbie Williams
Too Marvelous for Words - Frank Sinatra
Melodie d'Amour - Dean Martin
Beyond the Sea - Bobby Darin
Mr. Sandman - The Chordettes
Que Sera Sera - Doris Day
Wishin' and Hopin' - Ani DeFranco
Let's Do It - Alanis Morissette

Let the Music Play

It's a typical girl meets boy story. They meet online, boy asks girl out, girl asks boy to make her a mixed CD of significant songs that capture pieces of his life. Not necessarily his most favorite songs or artists, but songs that mean something, the ones that remind him of where he's been and how far he has come. Oh, and she asks him to have this prepared and recorded to present on their very first date, in return she'll do the same.

Sound familiar?

Of course not! Who does that?!

I do, a girl who put off college to work in a Record Store, because not only was that quite possibly the coolest job in the world right out of high school, but that is just how much music influenced and continues to influence my entire life. The sounds, the beats, the instruments, the voices, the dissection of the lyrics, I cherish it all. That job was no summer fling, it was true love! I ended up working there for 14 years as a store manager.

"How can you just leave me standing
Alone in a world that's so cold
Maybe I'm just too demanding
Maybe I'm just like my father, too bold
Maybe you're just like my mother
She's never satisfied..."

It was a first. I'd never challenged anyone to a first date mix tape before, but with this one, it felt like the the right thing to do. And it was, I got two pretty solid mixed CDs out of it... on date number two. To be fair, mine weren't ready on the first date either, only because the date itself took place sooner than I had expected.

Long story short, we didn't go the distance. Don't be sad, we're still cool, just not cool "like that." And I have some pretty great souvenirs to show for it. His musical taste was almost, almost as good as mine and that's pretty swell in my book.

I'm old school, I grew up in the age where we actually painstakingly made mixed tapes. And even now, in this day of iPods, I still prefer a mix CD to a playlist. Anyone can throw a playlist together, but making a mix CD with limited space, getting the perfect playlist in 20 songs or less is a lost art and takes some serious thought and skill. It's an amazing gift to get and receive.

As a music lover, if you haven't read "Love is a Mix Tape" by Rob Sheffield, you're missing out. It's a book that I've actually highlighted passages in, because his thoughts on music so closely reflect mine.
In it he writes, "There are all kinds of mix tapes. There is always a reason to make one."

Ummm, yeah!

"I have built my entire life around loving music, and I surround myself with it. I'm always racing to catch up on my next favorite song. But I never stop playing my mixes. Every fan makes them. The times you've lived through, the people you shared those times with - nothing brings it all to life like an old mix tape. It does a better job of storing up memories than actual brain tissue can do. Every mix tape tells a story. Put them together, and they add up to the story of life."

Seriously, how perfect a paragraph is that? I wish that I had written it before Rob did!

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end..."

Some things take pause, but the music never stops. You get over yourself and move on.

Press Play.

Soundtrack: Volume Three 06/20/13

Just Like Honey - The Jesus and Mary Chain
Darlin' One - The Replacements
We've Been Had - The Walkmen
Miss Misery - Elliott Smith
It's All Alright - fun.
Better Be Home Soon - Crowded House
Everybody Here Wants You - Jeff Buckley
Aint' That Lonely Yet - Dwight Yoakam
If I Had a Boat - Lyle Lovett
Bad Things - Jace Everett
Creepy Jackalope Eye - Steve Earle
I Saw You First - John Mellencamp
You Belong to My Heart - Old 97's
You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb - Spoon
Idiot Kings - Soul Coughing
Someday I Suppose - The Mighty Mighty Bosstones
Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover - Sophie B. Hawkins
Boys of Summer - Don Henley
Feel the Pain - Dinosaur Jr.
What is Life - George Harrison
Closing Time - Semisonic

Soundtrack: Volume Four 07/04/13

The Galway Girl - Steve Earle
Stubborn Love - The Lumineers
Pulling Back the Reins - kd Lang
First Glimmer - Paul Westerberg
Every Day is Like Sunday - Morrissey
Black Coffee in Bed - Squeeze
Take it on the Run - REO Speedwagon
Crime Scene, Part One - Afghan Whigs
Remedy - The Black Crowes
You Got Lucky - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
Landslide - Fleetwood Mac
6th Avenue Heartbreak - The Wallflowers
All the Young Dudes - World Party
The Whole of the Moon - The Waterboys
Change - Churchill
Special - Garbage
So Much For the Afterglow - Everclear
Here's Where the Story Ends - The Sundays

The Only Exception

By all accounts, she is a risk-taker. Otherwise known as a thrill-seeker, an adrenaline junkie, a hot shot and/or a show-off. She is always up for a dare and is occasionally a bit reckless.

She has jumped out of airplanes, raced stock cars, climbed mountains, rode rapids, plunged into the deep end more than once and puts her innermost thoughts out here in cyberspace for all to see, without giving it a second thought.

She is a little warrior.
She is fearless.
She is fierce.

Ehh, so that's not entirely true. While she is indeed all of the things (and more) in most aspects of her life, matters of the heart aren't so carefree and open minded.

Her life love story is no different than anyone else. She has loved and she has lost, Her heart has been broken and she's broken a few. She has experienced happiest of highs and the gut wrenching lows.

The good memories far outweigh the bad, but why is it always that little bit of pain and uncertainty, lying dormant most of the time, that prevents her from moving forward?

Why does she allow her past to dictate her future? When is it worth the risk? When will she stop living like a fucking Paramore song was written with her thoughts in mind? When will she figure it all out and stop second guessing it all?

Unlike all of those other adventurous things, love is something, that even at her age, she hasn't quite figured out how to do properly. It's one of the few things that she finds herself apprehensive about. Like a dumb, doe-eyed deer, she just stands there in the headlights unable to move.

Why can't she find the words to tell you what she really thinks and feels? Where is that brave little girl? The girl with the personality the size of Mt Everest, the one who is always smiling and laughing. She is confident and true, she is amazing! But in a matter of moments, when her heart beats just so, that girl is reduced to an awkward wallflower, stumbling around trying to get it right. Surrounded by some unseen barricade that she can't figure out how to get over. So comfortable at keeping a certain distance between her and her tell-tale heart.

Who is that girl?

How does that little darling dispense advice, good advice to anyone who will listen, but can't be bothered with listening to her own thoughts?

What she needs a better approach. Instead of living with the anxiety that it will all crash and burn, how about concentrating on actually taking flight first. Worry about the loose ends later, carry them with, but don't let them tie you down.

Someone needs to tell that bitch to chill. Seriously, bitch be cool. Oh, and stop talking about yourself in third person and figure shit out.

The Mighty Jackalope

At what point in my life did I stop listening to my own advice and start following the "should haves" from others? It is like I just had an epiphany of sorts, Right now, at this very moment, I'm kinda figuring it all out, seriously people, this is one for the history books! Read on, because it's one of those rare moments where you actually get to witness a little "How Kara Got Her Groove Back," instead of the usual clumsiness that you're so accustomed to.

As it turns out, I don't do "Poor me" very well and to all those that have had to put up with it by offering up their own kind of "what works for me is..." kind of advice, I know you mean well, but deep down you hate saying it as much as I hate hearing it and wish that I was the last person on earth that you had to try to give advice to.

Because here is the thing, I'm gonna take it and then I'm gonna break it. You know, fuck up any semblance of what you told me I "should" do. I know your intent is good and I appreciate you caring enough about me to even consider advising me, it's what we do for the ones we love. We hate to see anyone hurt or misguided, I do the same thing. Every. Single. Day.

If you know me, then you know that I am a long-winded, loud-mouthed, "fixer of others," it's like I'm advising my friends from the floor of the Stock Exchange, he who speaks the loudest and longest wins, right? I also LOVE to hear myself talk, but guess what, I'm not actually listening.

All I do is talk, talk.

As it would seem, the only so-called "expert" on my life is me, and somewhere along the line I stopped listening to my own expert advice, most likely because I didn't want to hear what I actually had to say. See, if you tune out yourself and follow the advice of others, when everything falls apart, "you" aren't to blame.

"Well, if only I hadn't followed your stupid advice, then none of this would have happened."

Oh. My. Geezers, do I adore saying that, but it's time to start the weaning process.

My expert advisor, just stated that I should, and I quote,

"Man the fuck up Martin, if you are going to be truly kick ass, then you have to learn to balance out the ratio a little more evenly. Not work with the 90% protective armor, 10% "sugar and spice and everything nice" on the inside model that you've been rolling with. Oh and by the way, how's that been working out for you?"

Fuck you, when did you get to be so smart, Selfie?! And how is it that you've finally caught up with me? I've been evading you with great success for years. I figured the case went cold by now or you found something better to do with your time, but no, here we meet again. You're sneaky. Sneaky like a snake!

Alright, alright already. I'm listening, no really, I hear ya!

I feel like I'm coming out of the closet, but instead of giving some sort of statement about my sexual orientation, I'm saying "Hey, guess what guys, I am not as tough as I think I am!" But the reply is still the same, a collective "Duh, we know!"

Oh hello there, pleased to meet me.

I think I get it. Like for reals get it! Let's do this, Ms. Martin F.T.W.!

*If you'd like to know more about the jackalope species, please read Getting to Know Your Inner Killer Rabbit.

A Life Less Extraordinary

There are no absolutes in this life of ours, with the exception, of course, that one day we will die. That statement isn't meant to be sad or all melancholy and shit , it's just the cold, hard facts.

However, this life is a bit of a prankster. There you are functioning out in the world, doing your thang and everything is fine, perfectly status quo, happy as a clam...then bam, just like that the rug is pulled out from under you and everything changes on a dime.

What. The. Fuck. Life?! Why you got to be such a cruel bitch at times?

I sometimes actually fantasize about living a life less extraordinary. Don't get me wrong, I'm not living this incredible, lush, glamorous lifestyle, not by a long shot! What I mean is, I wonder what life would be like if I didn't think so much and analyze every fucking little detail of every fucking little thing so fucking much, you know, actually let my brain have a day off now and again. Or what if I had a way less stressful job, a job where people's lives weren't on the line.

How would it be if I slept like the normal people of the world, during the night instead of trying to keep my body upright from sundown to sunrise with copious amounts of caffeine. And would I freaking die if I didn't have to be the life of the party every single time?! What if my bark weren't actually worse than my bite and I had the courage to recognize and accept that about myself? What if I stopped using humor as a coping mechanism and for once faced my problems like a serious adult should. What if I had a heart that was incapable of being beaten up and bruised?

I'd be like a one man cast of Wizard of Oz characters, but hey, I sure would look cute in those ruby slippers!

Faults, I have 'em, that's a fact. There are many that I have come to terms with over the years, but what I can't seem to shed is this godammed armor that I've been wearing for years. You can't see it because it's that awesome Wonder Woman kind, but my true friends know it's there, they tell me when it clashes with my outfits and accessories. Those bastards will call me out in a minute, because they know what is underneath all of that heavy metal and fucking loud-assed, over the top personality of mine. I ain't fooling them, not for a minute! They know that ordinary girl exists, and guess what, they still love her for exactly who she is, the one that they have seen completely defenseless and weak and vulnerable and even pathetic at times, but they've never left my side, not for a second.

Turns out that perhaps I have not made enough peace with my past and am allowing it to fuck up my present. I've got to reign that shit in for reals, I mean someone that I met exactly four weeks ago recently told me that he too could see right through my "so called" tough girl facade. If my friends can see it and someone that I just met figured it out right away, why the fuck can't I?

For the record, this isn't meant to read as some self-loathing bullshit, it is just me admitting that I have a problem.

"Hi, my name is Kara and I like dressing up in suits of armor because I'm afraid of being susceptible to being wounded or hurt."

First step is admitting it, right? So I'm off to AA (Armor Anonymous) with the hopes of coming to terms with my addiction.

1. I admit that I am powerless over my addition. - Seriously, wearing this metal breastplate has become unmanageable.
2. I believe in a power greater than myself, can restore my sanity. - Well hello Sir Lancelot, where you been hiding all these years, I really could have used your armor wearing advice long ago!
3. I will make a decision to turn my will and life over to the care of God in the way that I understand Him. - For me, that means chocolate.
4. Make a searching and moral inventory of myself. - Like finally unpacking those boxes marked "hot mess" that are still buried in the back of my closet.
5. Admit to myself and other human beings the exact nature of my wrongs. - This is a tough one because, come on, am I truly ever wrong? Ok, ok...maybe so wrong, I'm right!
6. I'm entirely ready for God to remove all of my defects of character. - If I believed for a second that I could pray my armor away, I'd start praying the second I finish this blog post!
7. Humbly ask Him to remove my shortcomings. - Second verse, same as the first.
8. Make a list of the persons that I have harmed and become willing to make amends with all of them. - This could take a while, but okay.
9. Make direct amends to such people as much as possible, except when to do so would injure them or others. - I took an oath years ago in my profession to "Do No Harm," so I'm not about to start senseless injuries to those I care about.
10. Continue to take personal inventory, and when I am wrong, promptly admit it. - Gotcha, this I can do!
11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as I understand Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out. - No joke, I'm signing up for some yoga classes right up the street from me this week. I could use a good, healthy dose of zen!
12. Have a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps and practice these principles in all my affairs. -Yep, I'll be fine once I get it, I'll be good.

"It's never too late to be happy. But it's all up to you and no one else!"

Step Right Up You're the Next Contestant in This Sweet Charade

This is a repost from my sister blog So, You're Telling Me There's a Chance? A blog that picks apart the online dating world as seen through my eyes. It kind of fit into the theme of that blog, but at the same time, much too poignant and personal to not be shared here.


Writing, for as long as I can remember, has always been something very cathartic for me, it calms me, lets me put things into perspective, pick apart things and move ahead. That being said, why the hell haven't I done it in over a year?

This blog in particular (So, Your Telling Me There's a Chance) is touchy, it reached an oogy point for me last year where I thought that perhaps I was sending out nothing but bad karma into the world and in return, nothing good would come my way.

I mean, I'd like to think that I'm a good person, who deserves good things, but you get what you give, right? If I am writing a blog with for the sole reason of "making fun" of the online dating world, do I really deserve to be happy for not giving it a fair shot? Will I die a creepy old spinster cat lady?

Who freaking knows, but today I'm going to write, damn the consequences, because I need some purgative, humorous bullshit to get me through. You see, I got the shaft today from someone that I was beginning to like very much. He was kinda, sorta just like me with facial hair and cute checkered boy shirts.

I knew all of the rules up front. He wasn't ready for a commitment, the ball was left in my court and I chose to play through. I'm a big girl, I knew what I was getting into. I accepted knowing that if I could deal with the "What's the worst thing that could happen" scenario, that I'd go all in.

You see, I take my advice from movie characters and just like Danny Ocean said, "You're either in or your out, right now."

Bam, I'm in!

I'm not sure that it was truly a break up per se, since we were just "dating" after all, but it was indeed a let down. Perhaps actually one of the saddest, yet inimitable that I have encountered in my life's work of dating. He didn't do anything wrong, He didn't hurt me intentionally. He was gentle and kind, took the time to give it some closure without leading me on further. I guess this is growing up, but it never gets any easier to take.

He said I "was the coolest girl he'd ever met." Followed of course by a big "but..."

There wasn't the "spark" that he needed to take it to the next level, the was "something missing" in his feelings towards me. A classic case of "it's not you, it's me, blah, blah, blah..."

It still felt like taking a bullet, even though I saw it coming five days ago. I felt him pulling back, kind of putting me in my place through his responses. I saw that our hours of texting and emailing were dwindling. Suddenly he was "too exhausted from a long day" and couldn't chat until 1:00 am like we did for nights on end or "rushing to get to a meeting" in the morning when once again, we would chat after I got off my night shift. Yeah, I saw this shit coming, the fucking writing on the wall, perhaps even before he did. I think it's called "a women's intuition." That shit is for real, like a god dammed sixth sense. We woman are like soothsayers when it comes to that kind of clairvoyance.

I was even making a mixed CD in the middle of the night, long before the dreaded "break up" took place and now to go back and listen to it after the fact is downright creepy. I subconsciously chose songs that foreshadowed the events of what was to come during the disassembling of what we had tried to build over the last four weeks. It's weird, it is like I chose the music in advance that would be playing in the background during our final curtain call.

 Seriously, what the fuck though? How can I be the "coolest girl" that someone has ever met, but still not cool enough, or sexy enough, or smart enough, or just whatever. My thoughts on what we had going on versus his own feelings towards "us" got all kinds of mad lost in translation and I was the one left with the broken heart.

Sigh. What can you do? I can only be me myself and if the other person isn't down with that or just not attracted to me on some physical, emotional level, then what is the point of trying to force it to work?

Granted, I still feel burned that he only gave me a such a small amount of time to make such a judgement on where this was or wasn't headed, there is so much more beyond the surface, that quite frankly is his loss for not getting to know. I suspect that he met someone else in the dating world that better suited his needs. Maybe I can't really blame him. I mean, who can stand being around a loud mouth, always on the go, sarcastic prick like me? That's quite a handful to put up with, even for the strongest of men.

I'm not going to bad mouth him at all though, I have much respect for him and he is one of the coolest people that I have ever met. I am hoping that we can build a friendship out of the foundation that began to get us here in the first place. He is one of the easiest people to talk and laugh with.

Who knows, maybe I put too much out there too soon, I might never know. Maybe he recognized all of my quirky little flaws and decided they weren't worth it to him to deal with.
The truth is I don't really know, I am just going to have to accept it for what it is and move on. Everyone deserves their own happiness and if I am the one who is not making him happy, then he have every right to go find someone who can.

He is a genuinely great guy and yeah, I admit it, I thought this was going to be all super delicious and stuff.  After all I am a girl, we hope and dream, and plan, it's what we do! It was astonishing to me how we had SO much in common and could talk/text/email for hours about anything and everything. I hope for the best, but had been bracing myself for the very moment he asked if we could talk this morning.

We were unable to talk face to face, because we live about 90 minutes from one another, but we did talk "face time to face time," oh technology, I guess that's the way of getting it done in this day and age, beats getting a text I suppose. My eyes welled up with tears before I could even pick up the phone. I really hate the girlie girl squishy center of my hard candy exterior.

I wish him nothing but the best and do hope that we can eventually reach a level where we can be BFFs! Even though at the moment I've got noting left in side of my chest, I'm going to be alright eventually.  He is truly one of the good ones. That is what makes it almost worse. If he had been a true prick, today would have been a brighter day for sure. Yeah, I'd be angry at the bad behavior, but at least I'd have a reason to hate him and want him out of my life, but there was no concrete information given, so I'm still a little in the weeds I guess. A little sad, a tad bit annoyed, a smidgen of fury, and a whole lot of disappointment.

I honestly thought that this was gonna be great, our personalities seemed to mesh so incredibly well and complement each other's, we literally could openly talk about anything thrown out on the table. Hell, I'm just waxing poetic now about the "what ifs," because I'm a girl, and again it's what we do, it's in the blood.

Maybe I rushed to emotion too soon. Maybe my sarcasm was too much. Maybe I laid too low and didn't say what I needed to say, when I needed to say it. Maybe it's my aversion, versus his love of all seafood was the worst turnoff ever.  I dunno.

So much for the afterglow...

Now prepare yourselves, instant karma's gonna get me, because the next installment of this blog entry is going to be just as ridiculously out of control as it was last year around this time. I've got some real doozies just sitting in online dating site inboxes to share!

Let the next chapter begin, I'm back in the saddle!

Pretty Girls Don't Cry

By most accounts, I am a pretty laid back chick.

But there are a few things you can do that will guarantee to set me off.

1. Stopping by my house unannounced. Just don't do it, I hate it!

2. Waking me from a dead sleep to tell me something stupid. Sleep is a luxury in my world, so unless the house is on fire, don't wake me up... ever!

3. Not following through with a plan. If you say you're going to do something, then just fucking do it. If you can't follow through, then let me know well in advance so I can prepare a "Plan B." It's just that simple.

4. Lying to me. I don't care if at the time you thought you were doing me a favor because you wanted to spare my feelings or something, blah, blah blah... No excuse is acceptable, ever! Honesty is the foundation to everything and if you chose to not give me the respect that I deserve by not giving it to me straight, then I'll find the respect elsewhere in the form of you losing my trust and believe me, that is a hard thing to get back.

5. Feeling "sorry" for me if I break down and cry. Unless there is a legitimate sad reason behind my tears, like a death or that I've accidentally gotten my leg stuck in a wood chipper, don't pity me, that is just me, I'm a crier; can't help it, it is just the way that I react to stressful situations. Some people get angry and punch things, some people shut down, I burst into tears. It's one of the girlish qualities that I really hate about myself, but it is out of my control. Just because I might shed a tear or two doesn't mean that I am any more sad or upset than I would be if I were able to keep it in check. Consider it an honor to see me cry because it doesn't happen often or with just anyone, in some fucked up way, it is exposing myself enough to let you know that I care.

Oh and P.S., please don't fart around me either and certainly not on me or I will physically hurt you! Don't ever think that is ever acceptable, no matter how long we've known each other. Saying things like, "You should feel honored that I feel comfortable enough to fart in front of you!" might be the stupidest cop out ever! Take your lazy ass into the next room, go outside, hold it in...whatever, just don't do it in my presence. I don't want to hear it, I don't want to smell it and I certainly don't want to ingest the fart molecules that float from your ass into the atmosphere,  to me, it is the equivalent of shitting on my face. Are we clear?!

Auld Lang Syne

Dear December, thank you for being a pal! You made up for the the previous 11 months combined. That wasn't an easy feat I know and I hope it serves as a precursor of what 2012 will bring. 2011 wasn't my best year, it's true, but now I can look back at mistakes made, lessons learned and my uncanny ability to fall from grace more times than I care to remember, with a smile on my face, knowing that you didn't break me. I will conclude this chapter of my life and forge ahead. With all of your cliche "fresh starts," "new beginnings" and another shot at "getting it right," I gladly welcome 2012.

2011, despite your woes, there are a few highlights that I will cherish. The bonds of friendship that were strengthened, the love and support of my family that never wavered; my health, my home, a job that I love (most of the time) and a spirit that just won't quit. You have reminded me on more than one occasion what it feels like to be immersed in total happiness. 

I am fortunate.

I am appreciative. 

I am lucky. 

I am loved. 

I am blessed. 

In a way I am thankful. 2011, you challenged me like no other year. I can reflect knowing that I am better, stronger and wiser than I was on this day 12 months ago. You left me bruised and bloodied, but in hindsight it may have been exactly what I needed. Sometimes you have to go through a whole lot of nothingness in order to appreciate all those little somethings that make this life worth it in the end. Although the quantity of the bad outweighed the good, the quality of the good puts the bad to shame.  

For now I will close the book and put you on a shelf with the rest of the annual volumes. Who knows, perhaps one day I'll pull you out, dust you off and relive the harrowing moments that changed my life, but not anytime soon and definitely not today. Today is about moving on. 

To my family, you are my heart. Thank you for being exactly who you are. There aren't enough words in the world to express my love for you and the amazing life you've given to me. I like you. I loke you. I love you to bits!

To my friends, you are my soul. Each one of you have helped to enrich my life in so many ways. Call it what you will, it's sickeningly, sappy rhetoric I know. Simply put, I am in love with every last one of you. 

So, on this last day of the year I say goodbye to the last 365 days. I'll watch you grow small from my rear-view mirror, until you're gone, but never forgotten. Tomorrow I will eat begrudgingly eat my black eyed peas and press play. I've been here before, but it's not the same, not even close! I look ahead with big, eager eyes, an open mind and a heart filled with gratitude. 

May the new year bring us peace, joy, a little faith, a lot of hope and more love than we could ever imagine.

Slainte!

Things I am Certain of

I might not be someone's first choice, but I am a great choice.
I may not be rich, but I am valuable.
I don't pretend to be someone I'm not because I'm good at being me.
I might not be proud of some of the things I've done in the past, but I am proud of who I am today.
I may not be perfect but I don't need to be
Take me as I am, or watch me as I walk away...
















-Thanks to my friend Kara O. for the reminder. 

Daddy's Girl

My Dad is not known for his Internet prowess. He send me a birthday greeting on Facebook that he posted as his own status. Good thing he is my "friend" or I might never have seen it. No matter how old I get, it is always good to know that I will always be his little girl. This message made me cry like a big baby, to which he said, "You are a big baby, but I love you anyways. 


Just like a Martin, tough on the outside, all soft and squishy on the inside. I am blessed!


Sept 26 is the birthday of my oldest daughter - old-what's her name - I of course know her name- it's Clem - you will know her as Kara. Clem (Kara) is real close to be the best thing that ever happened to me - bright, funny, hard working, giving, beautiful, playful,- an almost perfect person and daughter in every way. She has been the light of my life and at times a royal pain in my arse (ass for you Redskin fans) - She has never been dull and I love her dearly. She just ran 4 miles at her advanced age - Attaboy Girl!
Happy Birthday Baby
Dad

Getting Old Ain't Bad. Getting Old, That's Earned.

My birthday is in four days, a time to wave goodbye to 365 days past and start anew. It's like a personal "New Year's Day" celebration and the beginning of a another year to get it right. I've got the memories, but I won't look back. Instead I will forge ahead to the next chapter of my life with wide, open eyes and a big happy heart waiting to be filled with what is to come. I welcome the possibilities, the joy, the laughs, the tears, the ups, the downs, the faults, the fears, the good and the bad. I want it all.

In the grand scheme of things, I am blessed. Blessed I tell ya! It isn't always easy being me but I wouldn't change me for the world. I'm making it down my own path exactly as planned. Always a work in progress, but I'm a girl of few regrets and have so very much to be thankful for. Mine is not a perfect life, but good one nonetheless. I've got love and peace and the best family and friends anyone could hope for, my wishes and wants are few and far between.

On September 26th, I will forgive what needs to be forgiven and forget what needs to be forgotten. Simple as that, I can leave it all behind and focus on the what's ahead. That is my gift to myself.

So to those in my life who have made the last year so special, I thank you, I love you and look forward to this year being even better!

And to those who are already throwing out the "old" jokes, bring it, 'cause I know I still look good! ;)


"Hell, I've always been old. You know what though, I don't mind. I mean if my muscles ache, it's because I've used 'em. It's hard for me to walk up them steps now, its because I walked up 'em every night to lay next to a man who loved me. I got a few wrinkles here and there, but I've laid under thousands of skies with sunny days. I look and feel this way, well because I drank and I smoked. I lived and I loved, danced, sang, sweat and screwed my way thorough a pretty damn good life if you ask me. Getting old ain't bad. Getting old, that's earned."  
-Maggie McGlone "The Guardian"

Anger Management

Growing up I was always known as the calm one, my sister on the other hand was the hot head. I was the pillar that people leaned on and expected to hold it all together whenever there was a crisis. I was Switzerland. I rarely took sides or placed blame. I processed things logically and was a voice of reason. I was always cool and collected, almost laid back to a fault, just drinking it all in without judgement.

My sister's reactions to the very same things were always much different, almost comical. She can fly off the handle at the drop of a dime and cause a whirlwind of drama in seconds flat. She is the eye of the storm that takes out everything in her path. She is in no way a horrible person but when triggered can say some of the most heinous things imaginable. I learned quickly not to take any of it personally, it is just her way of dealing with stressful events. Who am I to say that it's wrong, it's just her way. I've come to understand it and accept it in the name of sibling love.

She was always the fighter in the family and I was the lover. I could impartially work out the difficulties and be the peace to her wartime. Push me to my limit, I can take it every time...well almost every time. I have a great ability to internalize stress. I'm like a great dam inside capable of holding back even the roughest of waters. But on occasion, even my so-called impermeable concrete shell fails for one reason or another and I find myself overwhelmed with anger and spite.

There is no rhyme or reason to what sets me off. It could be a deliberate act of sabotage by an outside influence, inadequate emotional maintenance on my part or simply because I've exceeded my capacity to hold it all back. Everyone has their triggers and individual boiling points. It's not something that I am proud of and I take no pleasure losing control, but sometimes even the mightiest fall.

When the breaking point comes there is no stopping the rage. It's an uncontrollable frenzy of hostility. It shocks me to know that I am capable of such contempt and disrespect. It's only when I become so frustrated with a situation that I resort to this kind of behavior. It is a point when I can no longer rationally "do the right thing." Usually that is all it takes, a few minutes of mayhem and it's out of my system for good. My reserves have been emptied and I'm free.

I never thought of myself as someone to hold a grudge or allow myself to become so consumed with negativity that it left me all black and sullen inside. It's not who I am, yet it is something that I've let become a part of me lately. I've allowed it to change my psyche and crush my spirit.

That's unacceptable and I'm moving on. I've surrendered and I've got to let you go. As much as I may love the idea of you, I love myself more.

Thank you Siddharta for reminding me that it really is that easy to forget.

"Anger will never disappear so long as thoughts of resentment are cherished in the mind. Anger will disappear just as soon as thoughts of resentment are forgotten."

Like a perfect little sunflower, you were meant to be enjoyed while it lasted.

Unlimited Text Messaging

Since October 12, 2010 I have made and received over 12,000 text messages.

That is roughly 1200 texts a month, an average of 40 texts a day, approximately 878,000 individual words and if I were to print them all up on 8 1/2 x 11 standard "letter sized" paper,  it would equate to 1119 pages. That's longer than most novels!

That seems crazy, right?!

Exactly just what did I have to say and what was being said in return? The conversations paint a picture of anything and everything. What makes this 21st century form of communication so much more exceptional is the fact that those 12,000 messages floating through cyberspace were between me and just one other person.

Just you and me living life on a Sim Card.

Is it the making of a modern day "Notebook" or a great Fairy Tale? Who knows, although there was once upon a time when starry-eyed little heartfelt messages were being sent and received, but those chapters have since turned the page.

It's interesting to go back and read, through 10 months of the past, to actually re-watch your life play out on a little screen. You remember things that got pushed aside to make way for current thoughts. A real time visitation of memories made. You see the words and are transported briefly to the time when they were originally said. You remember where you were and exactly what you were feeling the first time you read them.

Time passes, but the consciousness of it all remains.

For a moment you allow yourself to relive where the friendship began, where things took a romantic turn, the ultimate break down in communication, the split, the anger, the hurt, the disappointment, the attempt at recovery and back to starting anew. Your life comes full circle in 140 characters or less.

I See Dead People

Sometimes I talk to dead people. That's crazy, right? Before you judge me, let me explain. While I'm not an exceptionally religious person, as in I have not darkened the doors of a church in years, I do believe in God and heaven. I also choose to believe that when people die their souls live on and guide us from above.

Spirituality was something that I never really understood until David came along. It was only after he was gone that I began to view death in a different light. If you have read any of my previous posts involving feathers then you know that David was a dear friend of mine who passed away in October of 2005. His death consumed me, in fact it still does to this day but for more diverse reasons.

Throughout his funeral I was inconsolable. During the service, a small, white feather landed on the sleeve of my friend Trish who was seated next to me. Without thinking she plucked it off and handed it to me. She whispered for me to hold onto it and focus, somehow knowing that the distraction would help get me through. It worked. I walked out of the funeral home with it still firmly gripped in my hand.

For reasons unknown to me then, I felt compelled to keep that feather. I put it in my wallet to protect it and started my new life without David in it.

The next day I was the opening manager at the Pottery Barn where David and I had worked. It was quiet as I went through my morning routine of preparing the store for business. My associates had yet to arrive, so it was just me and my thoughts. I paused in the Design Studio where I had last seen his smile to say "Hello." And right there, on the verge of falling to pieces, I saw it...another feather. David had found a way to say hello back to me in a way that I could understand.

That was the day that I learned to accept the unexpected. Even though I found it impossible to comprehend, I opened my mind and heart to the fact that certain things defied explanation. All it took was a leap of faith on my part and I'd know that even in death, David would be with me always.

In the nearly six years since his passing, he still finds a way to communicate with me. I have found feathers of all shapes and sizes in the most surprising places. I always pause after picking them up and look into the sky and say "Hello" right back to my friend. The feathers serve as a reminder that with hope, anything is possible, even in the most impossible of circumstances. Where there is a will, there is a way.

In my line of work, I see people die right before my eyes. It is the harsh reality of working in the Emergency Department and unfortunately, it comes with the job. No matter how I try to man up and accept it, death still haunts me. Ironically, not only did I work in an environment where David was very much alive, I now work in the same place where he died. I was put there for a reason and embrace it for what it's worth. I help people in sickness and pray for those departed.

When someone dies in the ER, my emotions automatically go back to the Thursday afternoon in late October, 2005 when I first heard the news that David was gone. It is a natural reaction to put myself into the shoes of the family and friends who will mourn their own losses. Being in a room with a lifeless body is surreal, it's just not something that you get used to. We're not supposed to unless perhaps your profession is that of a funeral director or pathologist.

I always pause to say "Goodbye," remind them that they we're loved and the love they gave love in return was so appreciated. Their life touched the lives of others and they will be dearly missed, but it's not over. It's never over unless you make that choice. I hope that their loved ones find their own form of feathers in which to comfort and communicate.

In life it's all about the heart, we follow it and live by the emotions it generates. The soul is immortal, it survives death and lives on in spirit and in my world through feathers. That's crazy, right? Maybe...but to me it makes perfect sense.

Emotional Rescue

Have you ever emotionally fought so hard for something that it left you physically disabled? You exhaust your energy by trying to crack the core of someone, because you know behind that hardened facade is something so promising and good; that every amount of effort put forth was worth the toll it took to get there.

Sometimes you fight so hard that you end up exposing too much of your own self. The assault is so intense that you don't even realize the damage done until you look down and see your own flesh falling off the bone. There you are left standing naked and vulnerable, knowing despite your best intentions to unveil the soul of someone else, your own has been unmasked in the process.

It's frightening and cathartic all at once.

It's hard to be the hero when your own superpowers are filled with defects. It's daunting to reveal that underneath it all you are but a mere mortal, with nothing more than a loud mouth, a lot of thoughts and a big, sloppy heart.

So, what are you really afraid of? What others will think of you now or what you see in yourself? And what do you do now?

I don't want a foxy little face to tell me lovely little lies, so why do I expect you to be on the receiving end of mine? It's time to get pretty on the inside. Face the fears and forge ahead. We are bred to make mistakes, that's a given. But, it's all in how we go about recovering from them that makes the true difference. Once we are no longer afraid of those mistakes, only then will we begin to make fewer of them.

Once the truth comes out and you look up to see that your friends, your real friends, not just the ones who claim to be, are still there, accepting all of your imperfections without judgement is liberating.

You come to the realization that the exact same flaws that we see in others are in fact our own. It's strangely familiar and is the very reason behind why you recognized them in the first place. It forces us to make a choice, throw in the towel or be a better person, not only to those you care about, but to your own self.

Once you have broken down the boundaries and completely dropped your guard, everything becomes limitless and you learn to love. Not that ridiculous fairy tale love that plays out on big movie screens and not that superficial sickeningly sweet shit. We're talking hard, true, tough, messy, unfinished, imperfect, rudimentary, honest love. The kind that leaves you bloodied and bruised, but so worth the struggle it took to get there.

A wise consort recently said to me "You put other feelings aside and be a friend first. It's not gonna be a walk in the park, but anything is possible if you care about the person; that's love right there."

Yep, truth. That's love right there.

Cue the Gosling

"Well, that's what we do, we fight! You tell me when I'm being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you're being a pain in the ass, which you are, 99% of the time. I'm not afraid to hurt your feelings. They have like a two second rebound rate and you're back doing the next pain in the ass thing."

"So, it's not gonna be easy, it's gonna be real hard. And we're gonna have to work on this every day, but I want to do that, because I want you. I want all of you, forever, you and me every day. Will you do something for me? Please? Will you picture your life for me? 30 years from now, 40 years from now, what's it look like? If it's with that guy, go! Go! I lost you once, I think I could do it again, if I thought that's what you really wanted. But don't you take the easy way out."

"Would you stop thinking about what everyone wants? Stop thinking about what I want, what he wants, what your parents want. What do you want? What do you want?"

"What...do...you...want? What do you want?"

Cocksure

I'm a bit of a handful, it's true. I'm loud and selfish and stubborn and quirky and cocky and outspoken and completely inappropriate at times. I make mistakes every day. Sometimes I learn from them, sometimes I don't. My expectations are high, but so is my tolerance. If you accept me for me, I will accept you for you, but there is a catch...you have to meet me halfway. I can't be expected to do all the work, because I will eventually tire.

I'm an all American rebel, tougher on the inside than I look on the outside. I can take whatever you dish out and will always give it back in return. I am cynical and sarcastic and jaded and bitter and have been burned more times than I have intentionally set the fire. You have to earn my trust and I expect your total honesty. If you want to be a part of my life, you have to follow through with every word you say. I won't hang on your empty promises.

I am big hearted and kind, but never misjudge that for weakness. Loving is easy, I will give you my whole heart. As a friend it is my job to love you, but I don't always have to like you. Just like trust, you have to earn my "like" if you want it in return. Show me the respect that I deserve and I'll repay it tenfold.

I am brilliant and beautiful and hilarious and imperfect and true. I spin out of control and my emotions often shoot off in all directions like a loose cannon. I'm head-strong and feisty and completely full of myself. I can be hard to handle and downright ugly at times. Some days I'm the blue pill, others the red.   I know that my personality is not for everyone and that's ok. "You take the blue pill - the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill - you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes."

I am a walking contradiction. I'm overly confident and independent yet reek of insecurity. I will choke you out just as soon as I'd breath life back into your soul. Take me as I am or move along. If you can't handle me at my worst then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best!

I will give more than I receive. I don't expect the same in return, all I ask is for your appreciation and a little recognition. Putting a smile on someone's face for no reason at all is one of my greatest joys. It's the little things in life, the things that others might take for granted or not even realize are a big deal that matter most to me.

I'm not sure of anything and my thoughts change erratically from one moment to the next. What you construe as "crazy" might be my normal. Get over yourself, we've all been there. You will often find me standing right on the edge, walking a fine line between holding it all together and crashing hard. It's the rush, the adrenaline that keeps me going and reminds me to breathe. And if you are coming with me, I will push you to your breaking point and beyond.

I'm loyal to a fault. I'm transparent. I'm pessimistically optimistic. I'm in your face. I'm a nuisance. I would rather die living for the things I believe in than to die without ever taking the chance. I will walk until I'm able to run. I will stumble and I will fall. I will get up and do it again. My wounds will always heal. I am unbreakable and resilient.

I will argue with you because I care. I will try my damnedest to understand you, but you have to try to understand me too. Our personalities will differ, that is what makes us unique. It's our own individual personalities that attracted us to each other to begin with. What do you want to contribute? What will you bring to the table? What will you allow me to understand? Can you to sympathize with my needs? What will you allow to exist? What are you willing to do in the name of friendship?

Born Lucky

Are some people born luckier than others? Is there an algorithm that fate sets long before one's first steps are taken that determines just how fortunate that individual's life will be? Does karma really play a part in destiny? If so, then I must have been a really bad person in a past life, reincarnated in this one to pay for my antecedent transgressions.

Seriously, it's comical how ridiculously unlucky I am. In this particular life, I've fallen from grace too many times to count, but you know what? I get back up and I do it again every day hoping that eventually I will get it right.

Don't get me wrong, I have had a lot of good and when weighed out, it certainly counterbalances all the bad. I have a family who loves me unconditionally, who are healthy and happy; who would without question, walk to the end of the earth and back for me. I have made more friends than I have lost. Ones that I know will stick with me, not only through the sweetness, but straight through to the bitter end. I'm by no means rich, but am content in my possessions.

I have literally partied with Rock Stars and interviewed NASCAR drivers. I have traveled the earth and been immersed in cultures that many people only dream of. I was blessed with open minded parents who allowed me to see and experience the world through my own eyes. I have jumped from airplanes, climbed peaks and floated in the Caribbean seas. I changed careers midlife, went back to school and kicked it's ass. I was the first Paramedic student at my college to receive a full scholarship based on academic achievement. I have loved and felt love in return.

Not bad for a little girl from a quiet coastal Texas town. Truth be told, if I were to die tomorrow, I'd look back with little regret, for I have truly lived. Sure there are a few things that I have yet to do in this life, which is precisely the reason why I have no immediate plans of leaving this earth any time soon. I refuse to go down based solely on a little bad luck. Nope, you might be a temporary setback, but you're only an obstacle that I will always find a way to overcome.

When my 19 year old cat was dying from kidney failure earlier this year, I had to make the hard decision to end his misery and have him put to sleep. When I arrived for my appointment, I was told that the Doctor was across town dealing with a sick foal and was told that I had to reschedule his euthanasia for later that day. What?! How cruel and unusual is that?

On Christmas Day 2010,  as I drove across the state of Virginia to see my family on the biggest holiday of the year, I ran over something on the highway that shredded my rear tire at 65 MPH, leaving me stranded on an overpass for hours until help arrived.

In 2008 I had a pretty common surgical procedure that was botched terribly, which resulted in two additional surgeries to put me back together again. I was out of work for three months recovery time.

On October 20, 2005, I lost my fourth friend within a two year period to suicide.

I could go on and on, reciting stories that you wouldn't believe unless you actually knew me and witnessed it first hand, but I think you get the gist of it.

I have been on the brink of throwing in the towel on more than one occasion. I've wanted to curl up and just wither away, because what good is life if it isn't what you envisioned it to be? I'll tell you what it's good for...everything. All the meticulous planning and guidance never prepares you to roll with the punches and live. Really live.

Years ago for fun, two friends and I went to see one of those roadside "fortune tellers." She told them just what the future held for each of them and they left content in knowing that they would face no real hardships in the path set before them. When my turn came, I was told that she, the "psychic," sensed an unlucky aura that "surrounded my soul," a black cloud if you will and for just $500 she had the power to remove it. I laughed the notion of it and promptly walked out. Looking back over my life, I sometimes wonder if that might have been a small price to pay for absolution, but then I come to my senses and laugh about it all over again.

No one but yourself has the power to change your own luck, whether it be through the power of thought or spiritual beliefs or even a lucky charm of some sort. In my case, I am a combination of all three. I think positively, try to do all the right things and as crazy as it seems, I corresponde spiritually with my deceased friend David, who I lost in 2005, through our own form of communication. When I am feeling down or particularly sad or stressed out, he sends me a random feather that I stumble upon in the strangest of places. In the years since his death I have found over 200 of them and keep them safely locked away in a special shadow box to remind me that there are angels that look down on us from above and keep us safe and honest.

Now that lucky charm thing, well that is different for everyone. Some dangle a rabbit's foot from their keychains. Some carry a lucky penny in their pocket. We break wishbones at Thanksgiving, hoping to pull the side that counts, the bigger piece where wishes are often granted. We search for four-leafed clovers in fields of shamrocks and have "lucky" articles of clothing that we where when we want to win the big game.

My lucky charm was a well thought out plan, something that I contemplated for years until I was 100% sure of exactly what it should be and where it should be in my life. A little over a week ago, I chose to have a small horseshoe tattooed on the outside of my left wrist. I drew out the exact placement of where on my body I thought it would bring me the most luck. Points facing up so that none of the so-called luck would drain out.

I mustered up my courage, found a reputable artist that came highly recommended from a friend, bit the bullet and finally had it done. It was perfect, exactly what I wanted. A tiny little "U" shape with six nail holes, one for each member of my immediate family. I babied it and cared for it exactly as I was told and for the first couple of days it began to heal up nicely.

On the third day I noticed that it was beginning to come off. Not just the normal peeling and scabbing that a tattoo generally goes through. This little sucker was actually coming off in chucks, as if the bad aura of my luck was rejecting any of the good that I was trying to create!

By days four and five it began to look as if it had been drawn on with a magic marker that had gotten wet and was smearing and fading quickly. And by today, I can only see visible red scars in certain places where the black ink once was. My body is literally ridding itself of what it sees as an intruder.

How ironic is that? My luck is so defective that a purposely permanent piece of kismet is quickly sloughing off my own skin!

It's typical really.

Good things rarely happen on the first try, that is just how life goes for me. So right now half a horseshoe is better than none at all. I'll have it reworked in the next week or so, then lookout! With luck on my side, there may be no stopping me from anything that I set my mind to!

Sometimes a Little Reminder is All it Takes

"This is your life.
Do what you love and do it often.
If you don't like something, change it.
If you don't like your job, quit.
If you don't have enough time, stop watching TV.
If you are looking for the love of your life, stop; they will be waiting for you when you start doing the things you love.
Stop over analyzing, life is simple.
All emotions are beautiful.
When you eat, appreciate every last bite.
Open your mind, arms and heart to new things and people, we are united in our differences.
Ask the next person you see what their passion is and share your inspiring dream with them.
Travel often; getting lost will help you find yourself.
Some opportunities only come once, seize them.
Life is about the people you meet and the things you create with them, so go out and start creating.
Live your dream and share your passion.
Life is short."

-Author Unknown