My automatic reaction to any loud noise is “They heard that in Cleveland!”
Loud noises include my husband’s snoring and coughing (“Cleveland just called, they said “Cut that out”). Also the 747 lawnmowers, the leaf blowers, thunder, the neighbors, and my husband blasing the tv. My reaction is always some form of “They heard that in Cleveland”
I’ve never been to Cleveland and I actually have to think long and hard to remember what state it is in – Ohio. So I wonder why my brain makes that connection.
Tootling around some odd things this morning I came across this and it made me laugh. I read it to my husband and he also laughed – out loud, an odd occurrence. Sometimes something just catches my fancy for no rational reason –
Lisa always says nice things about me. As does Sharla. My cheerleaders! Back in the day I am proud to say I was their cheerleader. I believed in them then, as I believe in them now, and I watched them grow in their personhood. Fabulous ladies both.
I once bemoaned that I helped everyone get what they needed while no one helped me and I got nothing that I needed. The response was “Maybe that’s your purpose in life, to teach; to give but not get” I thought that was harsh then, I think it is harsh now. But part of it is comforting.
My shrink once said to me, in wonderment “You are basically a happy person” You may not believe it by what you read here but I am. Happy (and laughter) are my go-to’s. Someone also said about me “No matter what time I wake you up, you always wake up happy” And someone else said “Whenever I think of you, I always remember you as smiling”
And then there was the observation “I never want to be on your shit list” Hey, Saint is just part of my name, not who I am.
Hells bells people – you can put that on my gravestone (were I to have a gravestone, which I won’t). “She was basically a happy person” or “She always woke up happy” or “She always smiled”
Pardon my arrogance but – yup, I’m a happy person. I am SO worth knowing. And you couldn’t have a better friend or cheerleader. I’m loyal to a fault, until you get on the above-mentioned shit list. You definitely do not want to be there.
I can slam doors and burn bridges with the best of them and quite frankly never regretted doing it. The trick is in the timing – my regrets only come in not doing it sooner, not in having done it.
I’m a red balloon person – to my mind nothing is more joyous and hopeful than a red balloon. And when you let go of the string, and your balloon floats up and away – the joy and hope goes with it – not YOURS, that you keep. The next person to look up and see that red balloon – may they also feel joy and hope.
In my previous post Melissa commented: “I view both you and Holly as being tough. But you can both emote. It goes to show that being tough does not mean being cut off from emotions.” I replied that I would address that in a post but I can’t. I don’t know what Melissa means by ‘tough’, perhaps she means strong? Being cut off from emotions? I get that, we tough, strong people build big, thick, high walls between us and those who can/have hurt us but that doesn’t mean we cut ourselves off from emotions. We just cut off anyone seeing us having emotions. We have them, big time. No one sees . No one knows. We have ulcers, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, insomnia, nightmares. The walls we build keep others, and hurt, out but it also imprisons us – we are alone and we still hurt. One side of the wall – a child curled in a little ball of pain; outside the wall, strong tough woman, capable, indomitable, sometimes down but never out.
And then – I was making a playlist of my life. Just about everyone in my life has a song associated with them, for instance my husband’s song is “My Funny Valentine”. There are songs that illuminate just about every aspect of my life except – my childhood. So I went looking to see if there were any songs that would resonate for me about my childhood – unfortunately I found some. The songs just gutted me – Martina McBride – Concrete Angel. and Suzanne Vega – Luka. I’m sure there are more songs like these but I don’t have to hear them. And unless you want to ruin a perfectly lovely Sunday, I would advise that you not click those links and listen to those songs.
I don’t know why, despite the passing of so many years; the time working through it all with professional help, despite coming to a certain understanding of the whos and whys and whats – it’s all still there.
Go to this blog post – Pup – A Story. I promise you that you will love it. It’s not long but dang, it is the sweetest thing…Go, read, please.
A friend saw yesterday’s post and sent me this via FB –
Now isn’t that a hoot and so much fun and so true and are you loving it as much as I am? I posted it to IG and got lots of “hearts”. Thank you again, David.
Three or so years ago we had our kitchen and one of our bathrooms renovated. The bathroom is supposed to be the master bath but let’s not let the description interfere with the reality – which is – the bathroom is a joke – yes it is part of the master bedroom but it consists of a nook, 29 inches wide where the sink is and then a tiny room with a door that has a commode and a bathtub. You cannot get into that room and turn around to close the door without finding yourself outside the room. (The hall bathroom is also tiny with a stall shower that is smaller than a coffin – I measured – but at least everything is in one space.)
So we had the tub taken out and a walk-in shower put in – the shower is 5 feet x 2 feet 4 inches – so you don’t really have a lot of elbow room and indeed my husband’s elbows did bang into the glass doors. And there’s the rub. We did not even think twice about having glass doors, given the size of the space they had to be sliding glass doors, and my husband picked out these fancy (read: expensive) doors. Over time the foolishness of that sunk in – deep.
After my husband’s fractured femur and the consequent exacerbation of his already poor balance issues, those damn doors became a real danger. Did you know that frameless glass shower doors have a propensity to shattering for no damn reason at all? Just because they want to, it seems. My husband became anxious about the doors shattering; about losing his balance. Let’s not even discuss trying to keep it clean.
Yesterday we had the fancy-schmancy shower doors removed – Hallelujah. I decided on a new color scheme – black and white (yes, I know the walls are painted yellow but I’m not repainting the bathroom, just switching out accessories.) I bought a matte black tension rod, matching shower hooks, clear shower curtain, black towels and black bath rugs – Son-of-a gun but doesn’t that bathroom look a bit bigger and brighter and airier!
If I ever have to reno a bathroom you can betcha bippy it will be black and white. Here’s the fun part – I basically dislike black and white home decor – black is too, well, black and white is too stark – both colors make me unhappy but a black and white bathroom – dang, skippy that is so cool!