I was all kinds of proud of me and my declaration of independence and freedom for the Brand New Year numbered 2018.

I even made plans to (gasp) leave the house and go out.

On a Saturday night.

With my favorite person in the world.

I was giddy with anticipation and delighted at the idea of spending time with my Not-Daughter. We were going to some really cool coffee house type place to talk and do girl stuff aka I have Christmas gifts that arrived late which is really just an excuse for me to spend time with my Not-Daughter.

Then came the Great Collision of 2018, The Bombogenisis named Grayson and a nasty cold on the verge of turning into bronchitis. Because I can’t have nice things.

After the latest storm dumped a whole lotta snow and dragged the temperatures down so low that single digits felt warm compared to the wind chill factor, I, of course, started getting sick. Anyone with fibromyalgia knows what that means, it means a simple head cold can turn into bronchitis, pneumonia, you name it, the possibilities are endless.

Unfortunately, it also means I had a choice to make, should I stay or should I go?

I spent half the day pro and con-ing in between going through boxes of tissues at an alarming rate and attempting to sleep my sickness away.

It didn’t work.

I had to cancel.

And cancelling plans with my Not-Daughter damn near broke my heart. She’s a sweetheart and understood but I still feel awful having to cancel our attempt at getting together. Because I worry and worry and worry due to years of cancelled plans and the reactions of whoever I’ve had to cancel plans with. That’s probably not even close to being grammatically correct but I can’t care about grammar right now. I’ve been writing this for 2 days because I’ve spent more time sleeping than I have being awake. Saturday I slept from 7:30pm until 7:30am Sunday morning, when I woke up feeling worse. I drank a few cups of tea and went back to sleep around noon and woke up a little after 5pm, still sick. One bowl of chicken soup, one cup of tea and a small handful of vitamins later and I was back in bed, asleep before 8pm.

And now, here I am. Still sick, still feeling awful about cancelled plans and still wishing I was a time traveler.

Did I forget to mention I wish I was a time traveler? Is my fevered brain making nonsense out of nonsense? Will all these cups of tea and bowls of chicken soup finally make me feel better? Will I ever get rid of this flu-like thing that does nothing but make me want to sleep? Will I ever get to spend quality time with my Not-Daughter? Will I ever stop babbling guiltily and end this nonsensical post?

I love you Not-Daughter, I hope some day I can grow up and be just like you. And also, I hope I can sleep more and wake up feeling all better.

Until then, due to circumstances beyond my control, in the almost-words of Not-Helen Reddy, I am woman, hear me snore.






{February 15, 2014}   His Words

She checks her phone incessantly, yet always the same result.
These are the hardest days, smack dab in the middle of winter without a reprieve from the bone chilling cold and never-ending snowfall.
She hurts.
Everywhere, she hurts. Her body hurts from the weather, her heart hurts from the world around her.
She feels disconnected.
Unaligned and unappreciated.
Such is her life.
She remembers the days before, when she was younger than she is now, full of hope and dreams-come-true. Before everything in her world came crashing down around her, leaving her alone to navigate the long days and longer nights. Even her dreams no longer offer her comfort, instead they are full of despair and disappointment, just a dream-version rehash of the everyday.
It’s enough to drive anyone insane.
She checks her phone again then pushes it to the side, almost out of sight but near enough to hear any notification alerts. As if the sound of an alert was a lifeline, a rescue from the sameness of each day.
She wonders if she ever crosses his mind. Hell, she wonders if she ever crosses anyone’s mind, but somehow she doubts it.
She lights another cigarette and stares at a blank page, wishing the words would come, but even they seem to have abandoned her.
Another cup of tea and still her mind is as blank as the page in front of her.
Snow continues to fall from the heavy sky, feathery flakes so big it’s like the clouds have been split open, pillow-like.
She wishes for something, but the truth is, if you asked her what she wished for, she couldn’t tell you for sure. Thoughts roil inside her mind so quickly she’s unable to get a grip on any one thing in particular, remaining passive as life continues to go on around her bubble of isolation.
She hears that sound, the one that sends a jolt low in her belly and nearly jumps out of her skin wanting to grab for the phone. Instead she forces herself to wait. Those few seconds of sweet torture never seem to last too long but she unlocks her phone fidgety, her fingers nervous, anxious for connection, even the smallest bit.
She smiles for days whenever she reads his words.
And she begins to write.
AUTHORS NOTE: Hello my lovelies, finally defrosted this huge iceberg that had me frozen in time and space. While I did hope perhaps Matt Smith would somehow show up with his TARDIS in an effort to regain those days I lost due to wintersnowicecoldfreezingwindicefallinghardheavyandsharp accompanied by outer-net loss-age too many times to make it worth signing on most days but wonder of wonders {c’mon, ‘miracle of miracles*} that’s been repaired and a new router is getting the first day jitters because he know he’s up as the old router retires…I hear he may go down to Florida to live with my BFF so this way he remains in the family and I know my router will be loved up by someone who knows what they’re doing and bam, old router has a new home in Florida and I know he’ll be safe with my Bestie….point… no excuses, no sorries, just beyond happy that the block broke as the ice melts on the Full Moon Valentines Day…also known as ‘hey it’s good to be back home again’ because it’s true. So if I didn’t use the right words just know that I’m so happy to once again dive back into my bubble world, and that, my lovelies, is due in great part to you. If your eyes are reading these words, then know they are meant for you, the best readers a girl can have!!! Much love for reading, commenting, letting your eyes skim down a page, whatever, I have much love for each and every one of you, you keep me writing and  there is a place in my heart for you all.

{June 11, 2013}   I Am Nothing

frozen hand
wind chill factor minus fifty degrees
around the confines of my soul
heart set to permafrost and
no amount of sunshine can melt away these icy layers
protect and reject
everything you say to me
for i am cold and alone
frigid and frightened
fearful of this path that lies before me
where ridicule is the norm
and i am nothing
i am nothing

{May 21, 2013}   No Evidence

sad angel
is enough to keep me warm lately
little pitchfork-demons dance ’round my head
keeping me off balance and unsure
and I’m freezing in the bowels of hell shaking like a leaf
it’s going to be ok is what you told me
and it sparked a flame for a moment
more memory than anything
leftover from before the world ended
back when summer sizzled
and icy winter glimmered in your eyes
enough to make me burn
now the days stretch on
while your scent still tickles the back of my throat
there’s no evidence that anything will ever be ok again
but you rumble calm and soothing
even from a distance
you make me want to believe

sometimes I almost do

{May 21, 2013}   Pellets Of Pain

snow turned to rain that night
turning the cover invisible
into slush
dirty and revealing
what was meant to be covered
you pulled back that night
afraid to get too close to that age-old mixture of yearning and regret,
right alongside our disappointed desire
the rain was ice cold,
pellets of pain
freezing my heart solid as i watched you walk away
shoulders slumped in defeat and exhaustion
regret came off you in waves
and i saw through the lies you tell yourself
to make it through each night,
self-defeated from the start
your whipping-boy status began to unravel that night
though we both knew it would take awhile,
we recognized the inevitability
and accepted the challenge knowing sometimes
some things are worth waiting for,
as i drove away alone
the rain and my tears fell in buckets
to cover our uncommitted sins

{May 15, 2013}   Frozen Feelings

frozenfire andicefeelings
It begins at the core of me.
A tiny little shard of ice pierces it’s way through my flesh and into my heart.
The perfect murder weapon.
Icy cold and sharp, undetectable to the naked eye spreads through me like a virus.
It’s easy to hide, no one pays much attention to me anyway so as I freeze it goes unnoticed.
There’s a point, about halfway through the total freeze, where I know I could stop it. It could go either way, it’s all up to me so I look for a sign.
The thing about signs is, much like beauty, they are in the eye of the beholder.
What may look like warmth and love on the surface to one, can look completely different from another’s point of view.
My point of view.
My point of view can change on a dime, it all depends on where I’m standing in the room and who I’m standing with.
Or rather, who is standing with me.
I stand alone.
I am cold.
Far too cold for one person to handle, far too frozen to chip away at the ice encompassing my very being.
But I melt easy.
Given the right set of circumstances, given the tiniest spark from the flame burning deep inside that one heart that is within near reach, I can melt.
I can burn.
A blazing fire simmers deep down, below layer upon layer of frozen feelings a spark remains hidden.
A strike of the match, the right light in the dark cold can reverse the freeze.
And then, I can flame hot, the cold freeze just a shiver of a memory buried below as I die that happy death.

et cetera