To Crack or To Quack

The burning question in my mind this morning as I dropped 80 dollars on the counter to the overly perky receptionist was, why me??? Why can I never meet a normal person, be it friend wise or service oriented, I have the worst luck with these leaching weirdos. If you read the prior blogs you know my back hurts. So today I go back to the chiropractor and take along reinforcements. My friends all just told me I was nervous the other day until they met these people. First they tried to give me religion with all the god can heal your back. This is fine , I respect others views, and if god wants to fix me, I won't argue with that, but point of the matter is, I'm paying you dude! Now crack my back and let me be! Instead, no, no cracking of the bones for Donna... He popped my neck, (and stamped sucker on my forehead)mind you my lower back hurts. Yes, popped my neck and told me to take the day off tomorrow to come back and he would explain more, for another 80 dollars I suppose. As we left my friend(who wishes to remain nameless since she talked me into going, she didn't know he was a quack though) was the only one cracking up, she apologized and said no wonder I thought the guy was weird. Apparently every other chiropractor on the planet actually adjusts you when you go in and say "hey doc, I need an adjustment." The lesson here was to trust my instinct. I knew he was weird on the first visit when he looked at my tonsils for pete's sake! The only consolation is that I hope I gave him my cold. I already have one of my landscape customers stalking me to get me religion, now my chiropractor is after me too! You religious people, and I love you, I really do, but you are some weird ass people and you need to let the rest of us heathens be and just do your damn jobs. WWJD,what would Jesus do? Well, I bet he would have popped my back if I asked him.

Day 2 of me, myself, and I

Okay, so now I am officially whining. Yesterday was nice, but today I am sick and I need love and hugs and someone to blow my nose. Spoiled? a little, but you don't just get spoiled, someone does it to you, (sneeze) ! So on top of my back ache, I think I have a cold. I was awake at the bitch blazing hour of 6 am only to hurl out what amounts to 30 lbs of goo! I exaggerate. I called in sick, and have made a fort on the couch, now I just have to decide which unfortunate delivery man gets to bring my sustenance for the day.

Me, myself, and I

Tonight I have the house all to myself. The boy is off at work and will probably sleep somewhere else tonight, and Sandra is away visiting her mom. What to do, what to do?I already had a healthy meal consisting of some chicken-ish nugget bits, and some grease laden fries. Now all that's left is to kick back and enjoy the evening. I have a bottle of wine and some logs for the fire. a nice plump cat to curl around my feet and a ferret just waiting for me to stop looking in her direction so she can shit in the floor. Life is good. (I miss the wife)

Ouch!

So I absolutely hate going to the doctor. Today I had to go get x-rays on my back. I got myself all worked up, sweaty palms, shakes, the whole nine yards. Thankfully the doctor was nice , so I just out with the whole I'm a nervous wreck, I hate doctors spill, and he totally understood. He laughed at me and told me it was no wonder my back hurt what with me being all tied in knots and unable to relax. Now I just have to wait for the call to tell me what the x-rays show. Man pain sucks.

No New Ink

My back hurts. I'm going to suck it up and go to the chiropractor. Sandra is tired of me bitching about it everyday. Farewell new tattoo. I'll save up for you again later.

Death of a Pumpkin

We just finished carving pumpkins. Jeremy and myself. a couple knives, a bottle of wine, I know, it sounds like the set up for a C.S.I. episode. The pumpkins got it! First, off with their heads, then the gore of guts all over the kitchen. Muahhh hahaha. Trick or treat here if you must, visit if you will, but just know, no mercy will be shown to those who are squatty, round, and orange. (that goes for umpa lumpas too!) Happy Halloween!

New Ink

I've decided to get a new tattoo. I have a rough sketch, now I just have to start shopping for an artist. I'm off tomorrow, maybe I'll get the nerve up to do it then.

Crazy Like Me

Where you come from and where you end up are two completely different places, or are they? I guess....I come from nowhere. A dot on a map, but when I think about it, it's not just where we come from, but who we come from. I come from a long crazy string of women. The men folk just didn't fair well in our line. God put the men in the mix to make the babies, and then I think he took them out to spare them the crazies. Let me explain.... I'll go back to my great grandmother, mind you these are all my mothers side of the family, as stated the men , including my dad didn't last long so I don't know anyone on my fathers side. Where was I, yes, my great grandmother, Buela Inez, she was strong, (I kill poultry with my own bare hands strong). I never knew my great grandpa, he died young of electrocution, while wiring the house they built together. My great granny never called me by my name, til the day she died she called me baby. I wonder looking back on the alzhiemers that had set in, if she just forgot my name, but nonetheless baby stuck with the family til I was a teenager. I remember living with her when I was a child, she told wonderful stories, and sometimes when she wasn't in her right mind she relived the days when she carried a gun. Try keeping a god fearing woman on a mission from a gun, not pretty. Everyday she wore her hair in a bun, and her flower aprons were never missing from her dress. She was beautiful, and I miss her. She once shot a peeping tom, found out who he was and threatened to shoot him again. I learned a lot from that old lady. yep yep... Then there was my grandma, I called her sis. Come to think of it, everybody called her sis. She wasn 't about to let the line of women in the family die off either. She had five girls, back to back. Sis was a free spirit. Way ahead of her time. I can't say she was the best parent, but having kids and raising kids are two separate things, and she made up for it by a being a damn fine grandma. My mom and aunts would disagree. She loved me always, no matter what. I think I get my sense of adventure from her. She use to be what I would call a church hopper. She went where the worship was good and the food was better, best part, she would take me. She took me to my first black church. My smiling shining white head sticking out in a mass of black children, I would love to have had a picture. It was great. She knew everyone, and she walked everywhere. Later on when I was a teenager,my difficult years, she let me live with her. She was so cool, always ready to try anything. One day she took my bike and crashed into the railroad tracks. We had to rush her to the hospital for a broken shoulder, she made me swear I would never tell what really happened. I never did. I came home from school one day and found her in the floor, I remember breaking the door, and the sound of the busy signal on the phone. I remember the ambulance ride and the lady giving me her jewelry. I remember waiting for an adult to show up. She had a stroke, and it devastated me. I will never forgive myself for the sadness I couldn't hide from her. When I could drive I went to see her in the nursing home on Christmas. I was the only person that went. She told me she wanted to see the snow, and she asked if I saw the little girl that had just left. The little girl was never there and four days later on Dec 29th, it snowed. In my heart I know the little girl was her angel, and I cried as they buried my grandmother in the snow. You won't believe me, but everytime I think of her, or when my heart hurts, a snow white feather will fall from nowhere. Her spirit is still free. That brings me to my mother. I won't tell you much about her because I'm still learning myself. Growing up, she wasn't strong like my great grand mother, and her spirit wasn't f free, perhaps because she had to grow up to soon. She quit school early to take care of her sisters, or to help anyway, and she never thought she was good enough. However, at th e ripe old age of 58 my mother learned to drive, which was great for all parties involved. It gave her a new freedom, and a huge ego boost. I love my mother, she gave up everything for us. She spent her whole life working at shitty jobs just to take care of us. Now she is taking care of herself for a change, that makes me happy. That brings us back to me, one in a line of crazy women. I'm difficult, stubborn, irrrational, frightened, stupid, and sometimes crazy, but some people love me despite that. That's why it's okay to be crazy like me...

Peace in the struggle

If you know me, you know I would lay across a mud puddle for Sarah McLaughlin. I know I share this obsession with at least one other person in my life. The photo was taken by that person this past year at one of the concerts on the afterglow tour. So to Melanie , thanks for this pic. I started out listening to Sarah years ago. Her lyrics were so painfully beautiful that I couldn't help myself, I was hooked. Some music is crap, let's face it. But I am genuinely comforted everytime I pop in one of her albums. Memories memories....I feel like I could write volumes about moments that were soundtracked by a Sarah song. Tonite one song lingers, the line in particular says, " You will find the answer if you let it go, just give yourself some time to falter, don't fore go this, knowing that you are loved no matter what, and everything will come around in time." Maybe it's just the weather changing that has me all sentimental, or just maybe everything will come around in time...

When I Rule the World

when I rule the world I will work for myself. Currently I am working at a local nursery, and that's great and all, but today alone I made him 1/3 of my yearly wages. This kind of math usually leads to depression. The only thing I lack is capital. I have the knowledge. I have the management qualifications, and I love what I do. Now, anybody got a healthy spoonful of "get your ass motivated" for me. The photo is from the last nursery I worked for, pre-Texas. This was one of the smaller new additions that we added a couple years ago when I worked there. I helped build everything there with my own hands. From the tables to the shade cloth on the top. I still have some of the scars. That addition was a flat piece of concrete when we started. (I also worked with a super group of motivated individuals there and that helps.) Since I left they have done far larger and much more expansive renovation, but that is the sign of a thriving business. I know I could do it. It's the fear of losing my hat and ass if I failed. For now I will just keep planning and dreaming, planting and propagating. Nothing good comes from an unused garden...

Thursday

Today was like a turd sandwich. Hard to stomach.

"right here"
staind

I hope you're not intending
To be so condescending,
it's as much as I can take.
And you're so independent,
you just refuse to bend
So I keep bending 'till I break
[Chorus]
But you always find a way
to keep me right here waiting
You always find the words to say
to keep me right here waiting
And if you chose to walk away
I'd still be right here waiting
Searching for the things to say
to keep you right here waiting

The Military Machine

I live in a military town. Giant planes remind me of that everyday. Sometimes it sounds like they are coming down my chimney at night. Now I preface the rest of the blog with this, I'm not a really political person. I can't say I am daily abreast of the happenings in the war, but I can say it scares me. I'm not trying to be anti country, and I won't even get into the politicians roles. All I know is I see people everyday that have been or soon will be affected by this war. On a human level this sucks. On paper, I'm sure it's just a trickle down job format like everything else. All that to get to this, today I met a marine, he was picking up some stuff for a lady. His comment was simple, he said, today I'm working in the garden, next week I might be killing someone in another country. The rest of my day was a little sour. I could never live in his shoes. What are you doing next week? I hope he's working in a garden....

All The Good People

I am by nature NOT a people person. I'm not a mingler. I don't like crowds, yet at the same time I hate to be alone. I must say it has posed a problem on more than one occasion.
Most of my friends I have inherited from previous friends. A few people have just randomly floated into my life. I like to think I surround myself with all good people. Now by my definition "good" does not mean wealthy, it doesn't mean they are highly educated,(although some of them are) hell, some of them aren't really even all that clean, (I do love me some hippies), and it doesn't necessarily mean they are religious. It simply means they are good. Good to the core. The kinda good you see in calloused hands after a hard days work, the kinda good you see in the life lines written on their faces, the kinda good that would give you the shirt from their back. I want to be good. I want to be one of you. But instead, I have this steady little fire in my belly that sometimes erupts in an emotional lahar. Age is helping to temper that, along with the great vibe I get from some of the people in my life.
I recently met a reike master. She is a spiritual healer. She works on the basis that we can all heal ourselves. I think I believe her, she said she saw me on top of the ladder that day, and thought I looked like the person she needed to talk to. So I climbed down and she shook my hand , and then she said yes, I caught your energy. (I didn't know I was throwing my energy about so much.) and while I don't remember the exact conversation I do know when we had talked, mostly about life and why we were where and who we are, I felt better. So of course I helped her with some plants , that's my job after all, and before she left she told me that I do for plants what she does for people. She stops in every so often just to say hello. To me that's cool. That's good. We all need more good.
I spend more than half of my day outside, and that is good too. I'm never gonna be rich, or famous working with plants, but I can scratch the bumble bees on their back in the evening when they are so tired from eating all day, and I can tell you the time of day from the sun. There is a line in a song that says," don't get me wrong but there are things going on out there that you and I know nothing about." I'm as small as the fire ants that climb in my shoes when I think about how big and wonderful the world is. And that's all good

I Wanna Be A Half Tail Cat

So I'm sitting here watching the street light pour in through the crack my cat has made in the blinds. Her half tail flopping less than gracefully behind her, and I can't help but think what a lucky damn cat she is, and why can't my life be that easy. Well, all of her life wasn't so lucky. I found her in a flower pot getting taken to a dumpster. A bunch of dumb super macho types were just gonna throw her away, this is when I worked for a company that sucked, and after I got the cat I quit, but back to the cat. So I brought her home , spoiled her rotten, fattened her up to perfection, then we ate her. Please no PETA letters, we didn't eat her, that was just to soften this blow, we cut her tail off! Actually my best friend cut her tail off. He was mortified, a slam of the door, one slow fat cat, a vet bill, and six inches less tail later, the cat is no worse for the wear. Now where else in life are you gonna have a trauma like that and at the days end just decide it's all okay, sit down, lick yourself, and go to sleep. Again I say, I wanna be a half tailed cat. (minus the whole door/severed tail bits)

Just Be

Some days it's just not easy being. I was gonna say it's not easy being me, but I'm sure it's not easy being you either, so I'll just stick with it's not easy being. I think I may just be stretching myself too thin with everyone. It seems like I am something different to everyone I know. My family see one side of me, my friends another, my co-workers yet another, the only person I think that gets the whole me is Sandra. Bless her heart, I think she might be the only person in my life strong enough to get all of me, and still want to keep me. She is the yin to my yang, light to my dark, somehow she is always what I need. I often think I don't deserve her, all that unconditional love in one place, it's like I win the lotto just by waking up everyday.
it's lunch time, soon I'm back to work again. Damn the man. Maybe it will be easier to be me tomorrow!

Tis the season!

A show of hands for the people who agree with me that it is too early to see Christmas lights! I am not ready to falala, I do not have the Christmas spirit, and if I have to pick red and green glitter from my clothes again, an elf gets it! I know I know, it's the commercial holiday sales kickoff, but damn, it has to stop. I work at a garden center, and we have been putting out Christmas stuff for a month now. The only ho ho ho's are the bastards shoving Christmas down my throat in October. I need a pumpkin, or a witch, (not from earlier...hehe) or a black cat, a broomstick, anything. but I just can't deck the halls in 90 degree weather, and I personally think all the red felt is a Christmas fire hazard. Am I a bah humbug? Well, yes, but that's beside the point. If you put the tree up so early that it roots to the carpet , you kicked the season off too soon. Now I'm off to bed to get ready to go do middle management Christmas stuff, but just so you know when I rule the world, we will celebrate Christmas , at Christmas.

random poetry break

in a world of broken things
winding roads
and endless dreams
we look to find a little peace
a moment of comfort
a bit of release
we walk on the edge
to still feel alive
we cling to the night
so afraid to die
in a world of broken things
we are who we are
and sometimes that stings
in a world that's sometimes mad
we all look back
at the fun we had...

Damn Technology

If you have stumbled across this blog accidentally, sit down, take your shoes off, have a beer , and stay a while. I have a lot to say, and while I realize that 90% of what I write will probably never be read by anyone else, it's okay, cause either way I bought beer. I know, I know, the beer thing, but listen, it really is a philosophy. My own pseudo religion if you will. Simply put it just means that in my 28 years of dragging souls off of sullen shoes and hanging my head in a world where I never felt quiet right, that I realized I was wasting time worrying about things I can't change, things I can't fix, and "things" that will never love me back.
so here I sit, a thousand miles away from my family, my friends, my old life. I guess san Antonio is sorta my Walden. Thoreau said, "I went into the woods because I wished to live
deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not , when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." well, not only have I lived, and lived well, I've lived the last 10 years so well, I have to have some of my dearest friends recount them for me if you know what I mean. So many things to write, so little beer in the world. All that to say this , technology is a bitch, and I hope I never write anything that comes back to haunt me, but as in all beer based religions, I'm sure there will be a few drunken slips. To those who love me, call me out for it, to those who hate me, suck my toes, this shit is cheaper than therapy and I'm gonnna give it a try. Big smiles everyone, you beat the bad guy!