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!

Heart Shaped World

Of the tears that we cry for others, do you selfishly wonder how many you get in return?

It's not as if I wish hurt and sorrow on someone else, just having the knowledge that I meant enough to someone to shed a tear over is all I really need to know. It's so egotistical to actually read that in print, but seriously, could you turn the tables just one time and let me see you cry just a little for me?

You're always so stoic and unfaltering, would it kill you to show some true emotion, any emotion? You have a gorgeous mind and a divine soul, use them to their full potential. Skimming the surface of life only gets you so far and leaves a void of emptiness. Trust me on this one, I know.

I'm not foolish enough to think that we live in a flawless, heart shaped world, but what I do know about life is that everything that matters comes straight from the heart. Friendship, love, joy and pain...right there from the ticker! We were put on this earth to find people that we can connect with. They are the ones that we want to shower with refections of ourselves. Even the little things that we do to put a simple smile onto the face of someone we care about brings us joy in return and leaves us happily fulfilled.

In a perfect world, it would cycle like that continuously until the end of our days, nothing but happiness and joy, but that isn't how this so-called life of ours works. Hearts occasionally hurt for good reason. It allows us to appreciate the actual good that surrounds us that much more. It changes who we are for the better because we are inspired to do better and be better in hopes to avoid the crushing blow of heartache.

It is a sucking chest wound of a bitch to do something for someone when the certain level of appreciation you were expecting in return doesn't quite play out the way you had envisioned it. Precordial thump me the next time why don't you? The success rate is just as poor, but maybe, just maybe you will send my heart back into a normal rhythm instead of kicking a hole right through the center.

You see, it is in my nature to comfort and your gratitude is what I need to make me feel complete. Show me in return that I've done something that mattered. I need to you to need me in your life. That is what friendship is all about, not just wanting, but needing.

There are tons of people that I want in my life, but only a handful of those that I really need. They are the ones that inspire me to be a finer person. The ones that catch me when I fall. The ones that listen without judgement and wipe my tears with kindness. They are the ones that I can't live without.

We will no doubt act crazy and stupid and make regrettable mistakes along the way, but you know what, it's cool, this ain't about perfection. It's about the reciprocity of true friendship. You just gotta have a little faith, a trusting soul, an open mind, a receptive heart and sometimes an occasional tear.

I don't play the part of the mercenary often, I just want what is mine. I gave and now I'm wanting something in return. Could you cry just a little for me?

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.

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.

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.

IHOP-ness

There are few things better in this world then breakfast at IHOP at 3:00 in the morning with friends.

Good conversation, lots of laughs (because everything is funny at 3 am) and strawberry covered pancakes.

A tiny slice of perfection.

That being said, I can't help but to dumb it down a little and take dining out to an adolescent level. Every time I eat at IHOP I automatically think of something that I heard long ago on "The Don & Mike Show."

In a bit where listeners called in and tried to make the duo laugh, I recall one of the few times that it actually worked. Don & Mike both cracked up and the caller won some fabulous prize.

How did he do it? By simply asking the pair to spell out IHOP followed by the word "ness" three times.

Go on, try it. You know you want to!

I-H-O-P-ness
I-H-O-P-ness
I-H-O-P-ness

It makes me giggle with delight and proves, without a doubt, that I have the mentality of a 13 year old boy.

Perching The Soul

I can vividly recall all of the events that transpired on October 20, 2005. I remember the phone call from my friend Trish and exactly where I was standing and what I was looking at when she told me "to sit down."

Up until that time, I never understood the complexity of that statement, I felt fully capable of accepting bad news regardless of my body position.

She then told me that David had died from an overdose.

My legs went numb and my knees buckled from underneath me. Yes, there is good reason to sit when someone tells you to do so.

How could this be true, I just saw him. We had weekly cheesecake together just four days earlier. There were no evident signs that he was planning on taking his life.

David and I worked together at the Pottery Barn. We started at the same time three years earlier and became fast friends. He was the most fantastically, flamboyant gay man that I had ever met. He made no apologies for who he was, he was perfect as is.

Prior to David's death, I had lost three other friends to suicide.

The first was a Paramedic classmate who started an IV of anti-freeze on himself. The second a Nurse Practitioner who slit his femoral artery and the third put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger in his mother's home.

Every one of those is almost unimaginable, unreal even. I went to all three of their funerals and mourned the loss of each of them, but it would be David's quiet passing that would affect me the most.

In life, David was a star. Beautiful in every way. He'd greet you every time with a hug and would be the first to cheer you up when you were down. He was brilliant and hilarious.

He was outlandish in life, death didn't become him.

I sat with Trish at his funeral and openly wept. It was uncontrollable. There more I tried to stifle my sobs, the worse it became.

Trish did all the things a good friend should to to try to comfort me but nothing worked until she noticed a tiny white feather on the sleeve of her black sweater. Without even thinking, she picked it off and handed it to me.

For whatever reason I held on to that feather for the rest of the service. It gave me some sense of focus and calmed me down.

I put it into my wallet as we filed out of the funeral home and didn't think of it again for the next few days.

When I returned to work, I was alone one morning in the store, opening up the cash registers and doing some quick straightening before my associates arrived.

I was in the Design Studio, the area where David had worked when I saw it...a feather.

A random feather sitting at his work station.

Now, I am not an overly religious person by any means and never really thought of myself as "spiritual," but this was more than coincidence. 

I realized at that moment that while David was gone in the physical sense, he would be with me always, we just had to find a new "language" in which to communicate. 

In the nearly five years since his passing, I have found countless feathers in the most unexpected and unusual places. I have collected each one and saved them in a glass-faced shadow box.

There are probably close to 200 in there at this time. 

Every time David "speaks" to me, I look high into the sky and say hello.

The feathers serve as a reminder to "hang in there" when the going gets tough, to celebrate the good times, cherish family and friends and accept the unexpected no matter how it presents itself. 


"Hope is the thing with feathers."