Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Focus on the future, kiddo.  
The past holds nothing for you but memories.



Friday, May 22, 2015

The truth about kids.

I'm 35 years old. 40 is creeping up on me faster than I ever thought possible.  I made the decision to have kids almost 10 years ago.  Over 100 menstrual cycles, each a reminder that the clock is ticking.  Since I made that decision, I have been a parent, but not a mother.  I have heard "not now", "later", "now's not a good time" so many times that I've come to believe that there is no good time.  I have been told yes, made plans to stop taking birth control, only to find out that he was a lying, cheating bastard and was just telling me what I wanted to hear to keep me complacent.  I've had a scare or two, though none too serious.  Sure, I could "forget" to take my pill and steal some poor guy's baby batter, but that's not within the realm of my capabilities.  Even though I believe there's no good time, there are things I would like to have before I bring another person into this world.  For as much as it's worth these days, I want to be married.  I want to have that promise. That they will stick by my side, no exceptions.  Good, bad, boring, heartbreaking, and everything else that life is.  I would prefer to have a planned pregnancy, but who wouldn't?  I would like to have a home. A tiny home, preferably.  Sure, space is limited, but I want my family to CONNECT.  To learn how to live and love and grow together, as a unit.  I would really like to have the farm started.  At least the land purchased.  If/when I conceive, I will have to go home.  I will not deny my mom her grandbabies, as I know that is something she has wanted for a very long time.  Since I was 19.  I have no interest in raising my children away from my family.  I want my mom by my side. My aunties and cousins.  My friends.  My sister.  I want my babies to play with the babies of people I knew as children.  I want my babies to have a father who is a good man, who will treat them with love and respect, who will love them enough to do the hard things, who will be my partner 100%.  Someone I love deeply and who is just as in love with me.

The problem is that by the time I get to the point where I want to have kids with someone else, I'm going to be pretty old to be bearing children.  I think at this point, I would already be considered high risk.  I don't really want to be 60 at my kid's graduation, but I don't want to die alone even more.  I can't bear the thought of never becoming a mother.  So much so that the very prospect brings me to tears on a daily basis.

I try to think of it as "if it happens, it happens", put the good vibes out into the universe, and hope it'll all work out the way I want it to... but nothing ever does.  I suppose it'll all work out the way it's supposed to in the end.  ROMANS 8:28.  Let go and let God.

Thursday, May 21, 2015

A thought or two on "beauty"



On my journey of self-love, I have done some pretty weird shit to acknowledge, accept, and love all the parts of me.  I have danced naked in front of a mirror, jiggling as hard as I could. More than once. Until it made me laugh instead of cry.

My most recent challenge has been giving up my tiny magnifying mirror and tweezers.
I did well without them for a while.  My skin started clearing up and looking a little healthier and my brows... brow was growing in nicely.  Then I found them and pick my bad habit right back up.  My skin is breaking out again and looks like crap because I can't stop examining my skin and picking at it.  I just need to chuck the damned thing out into the street.

My brow, however, is beginning to grow into its full German glory.  I have been tweezing a little.  Just the very middle and the ones that get tangled in my eyelashes.  I haven't seen it fully grown in since middle school.  There are a few patchy spots, but they are starting to fill in.  And a lot of the new growth is grey!

I've always been envious of men and their ability to grow facial hair.
To heck with your beards and muttonchops!
I have BROW-WOW.
I might tweeze it again, I might not.



Never Too Late

Beverly "Guitar" Watkins - "Back In Business"


It's never too late to be what you might have been. - George Eliot
This has always been my favorite quote.  The problem is that I want to BE ALL THE THINGS.

The horizon is once again open, and this time, I do believe I shall land my ship in Goat Harbor.
I have applied for a live-in internship with Broken Shovels Farm, a no-kill dairy goat farm about 15 minutes north of downtown Denver.

Oh. My. Goats.

I wouldn't be able to start until my apartment lease is up in August, but I'll buy an RV and beg her to let me live and work if I have to!

There are federal farm ownership loans available, but some require at least 3 years of experience, which I don't have.

Update: I applied to Broken Shovels on Sunday, today is Thursday, still no word, but I also applied for a pretty sick work-from-home job. Fingers crossed.

Also, I'm researching tiny homes.  Researching, that's funny.
Also, I'm so completely obsessed with the thought of my own tiny home that I designed a 3D model of my dream tiny home, WinzigHaus!  And I'm working up a budget for it.

Figuring out just what the hell it is I want is becoming quite a challenge.  As far as the THINGS I want, I know I want a tiny house, and I'm going to build it myself from plans based on the model I made. I want solar power, a composting toilet, and large water storage.  A goat farm, yes, but the house must come first.  A place to live that is mine. That no one can take away from me.

But things, things, things.  Things are not the answer.
Moving to a tiny house would require an incredible amount of downsizing, which is fabulous.  I've been feeling very bogged down by my possessions lately.

Which brings me back to the point:
What do I want in my life?
Freedom.  From? Everything. I'd love to go off grid completely.
Independence and self sufficiency
The ability to travel

Agh. It's all so...ethereal.

A goal with out a plan is just a dream.

So what's the plan, man?

1) Get back to work.  Hopefully at new job.
2) Work ass off.
3) Save as much as possible.
4) Find large barn/ storage for rent, tall enough to build in.
5) Buy trailer for Winzighaus, put in storage
6) Buy truck with towing capacity for finished haus
7) Work and buy materials, using recycled materials as much as possible
8) Build a little at a time
9) Finish haus
10) Seek on-site, full time internship at goat farm.
11) Live in haus on farm, work on farm
12) Save for land
13) Have goat farm
14) Wake up every morning and exclaim "Fuck yeah! My life is fucking awesome!"
15) Die.

Fuck yeah.




Monday, May 4, 2015

Too spoon?

Would it be wrong
to doodle your name in my sketchbook

over and over and over

until the letters lost their meaning
became scratches
surrounded by clouds
birds
smiley faces

to so imbue the page with ink and longing
that I might whisper my reverie to life?

Incredible.

0330.
I should be asleep, I'm sure, but I'm in such a lot of pain. I'm also on a lot of drugs. Neither of which are keeping me awake.

I'm full of joy to the point of bursting.  

Might be tamales.

Sunday, May 3, 2015

Finally!!

I am only 2 days away from getting my back fixed.
After almost 20 years.
My mind is kinda blown right now.

I'll be having a microdiscectomy and a laminotomy.  The doctor will go in and clean up all the disc fragments and remove some of the disc to reduce the pressure and hopefully the hernia will reduce in size.  Then he will go into the bone surrounding the nerves and clean up any remaining disc fragments and bone spurs to give the nerves more room.

It's an outpatient procedure in the morning, and I should be home before dinner.  The recovery time should only be about 2 weeks, and then I should be good to go.

I can't even imagine what life will be like without pain.  I mean, I know there will still be pain, but my back will be fixed.

My back will be fixed.
My back will be fixed.
My back will be fixed.
My back will be fixed.
My back will be fixed.

Look out, world. You are my oyster and I'm going to schuck you.