in blog-nito

WARNING: You are entering a free-association zone. Topics and demeanor will have no apparent pattern and are subject to frequent and drastic change.


Hello and welcome to my dumb ol’ blog.

I had another blog about a year ago but I got hassled about it. There was a problem with me putting private thoughts and info out for any lunatic in cyberspace to see. I shut it down to keep the peace. But the truth of the matter is:

1. I like to write
2. Writing helps me think
3. Despite the fact that I am rarely alone, I feel painfully lonely on occasion
4. Nobody seems to have time for me or my concerns

Plus (true confessions time): I have a propensity to whine despite my disdain for whining. Long story short, I am starting one up again. Vague enough to be anonymous, and specific enough to be therapeutic and mildly interesting. It's not my desire to maintain an alter ego within my daily life. Nor is it my intention to withhold secrets or bash anyone. I just want a place that is mine, a refuge to sort out thoughts and maybe be a little creative. I'm sure it will blow up in my face, but I mean no harm. I just like to write. That's all.


Onward to today’s grievances …

I’ve been in a fonky mood for countless weeks and I can’t seem to snap out of it. I can only guess it’s due to the series of unfortunate events that have befallen me this year – I have lost 3 people (dead dead and dead) in the past 5 months or so, and each must be digested and processed in its own unique way. Juggling so many albatrosses along with the regular daily loads has made me stressed and weary. To accentuate the fun of it all, nearly all the people I used to share my burdens with are either no longer there for some reason or another, or are too busy with their own lives and concerns (justifiably, their concerns are more weighty in most cases) to seemingly have the time to be interested in mine.

Not that I’ve even felt like taking the effort to put anything into words lately.

Anyhow, one of my best friends ever has been dead for 6 weeks now. It’s funny, she’d always told me she thought she’d die young. Her health was never good. But who’d have thought it wouldn’t be from her diabetes, but from cancer? The pit that missing her has left in my chest is bottomless. Things have been happening that make me wonder about stuff though. I saw a rainbow the moment I looked up from learning of her death. Exactly a month to the day, I received an uncompleted letter J had been writing to me when she died, that R had found while going through her things and sent to me. The weird thing is the letter had been bouncing around several extra days due to a postage issue, allowing it to arrive on the anniversary date. And the other night I dreamed of J. We were at a baseball game. Her hair was long and she was in a yellow shirt. She looked beautiful, and when I hugged her, I noted that her hair smelled like Salon Selectives. In my dream I knew she was dead but regardless it all made sense that we were standing there together. Perhaps I was afforded a glimpse of her in her new celestial body, free from illness and pain.

I’ve had a few people tell me how lucky I am, to have received these things. Some call them signs. I do feel lucky. But I wonder. Are these things intentionally real, or mere coincidence? Am I naïve to believe it is the former rather than the latter?

And now, just so I’m not categorized as a total raincloud, a happy anecdote ... Last night the boy had an epiphany and it was really wonderful to see. He has some puzzles – simple wooden puzzles that have 9 animals. Each one piece, each with a picture of the animal in the hole as well as on the piece. Until now he has played with the puzzle but hasn’t really made the connection of how to match the animals up. But last night the light bulb went on and he understood. We put the puzzle together over and over, and each time he got better and better at recognizing where each animal went. On the last go around, he barely hesitated at all when deducing where each piece should go, regardless of the fact that I’d scramble them up and out of order.

A small thing, really, but a thing to make a mother’s heart burst with love and pride. I love the boy more deeply than I ever dreamed my heart could love. And I’ve loved deeply, let me tell you. Still, never like this. Never.

Well I’m outta here for now. Oh, BTW, if you ever think I’m writing about you, I’m not. It’s someone else, and actually I’m someone else as well. In fact, you’re not exactly certain I’ve written anything at all … ;)