I KNOW I USED TO BE CRAZY....

Not really.

As my sister lovingly likes to point out to me, I was indeed, a nerd.

A goody goody.

Well OK, back up... I did my fair share of questionable shit, BUT, I just managed to NEVER GET CAUGHT!  Oh, and I was an honor student.  And I didn't smoke.  So yeah, revert back to "goody goody".

I loved school- I mean Jesus (capitalized as if I'm speaking to Him and not being blasphemous), instead of getting a job my senior year of high school, I would fill any "void" periods with "office aid" shit.  I LOVED being there? (I can feel it.. you are all team "my sister" at this point ).  I participated in clubs, ran copies, etc... I even remember helping the school secretary clean out an old storage closet!

Do I have any regrets? NO.  No I do not.  It was who I was at that time in my life.  We all try at some moment in time of our life journey to "change to please others", but all in all, I've just always been "me".  Love me, hate me, find me to be annoying, love the shit out of me... yeah.  

Fast forward to well, NOW.

I'm an eclectic lover of music.  I mean ANY AND ALL MUSIC!  I've been spoiled the last few years ever since St D lovingly bought me a 2017 Honda CRV, complete with a "free" subscription to Sirius, which then turned into "Hey, continue your free subscription for only $2.99 for the next 90 days" to "Hey dipshit, you're hooked aint ya?  LOOK AT ME NUMB NUTS... WE ARE THE CAPTAIN NOW... PAY US WHAT WE WANT".  I run the gambit on "70s on 7" and "Mosaic", then getting in the mood for Neil Sedaka and Connie Francis on "50's on 5".  I go from belting out "American Woman" to "9 to 5" to "Chains and Things" to "In Case You Didn't Know".  

So with all of that mumbo jumbo said, I'm really out of touch with what is actually the "here and now" in local hits.  Yet I find them.  Oh yea, Sirius DOES have normal modern era music- I HAVE HEARD of Olivia Rodrigo, and SZA.  I was impressed with my "modern day music knowledge" when Abs converted St D and myself into old, "kinda" Swifties, and Miley Cyrus' "Flowers" was my JAM!  And by the looks of her performance of said song on the Grammys this year, EVERYONE UNDER THE SUN finds "Flowers" to be THEIR JAM too.  

I then noticed Sirius playing a lot of her follow up hit "Used to be Young", so I finally took a break from the Guess Who and Suzie Quatro and "stumbled in" (hehe) to listen.  OH MILEY!  I mean I've never been a huge mega fan, even when a young Abigail lived and breathed Hannah Montana. (eh, maybe not that crazy, but she watched it.. moving on....)  But her voice, her talent!  It's a letter to herself- to those that keep telling her that "she's changed" and "whatever happened to the girl that...".

I know I used to be crazy

I know I used to fun

I know I used to be wild

That's cus I used to be young

I found myself drawn to it.  Loving it.  "Feeling it".  

But WHY?

Scroll back up to my era of NERD-DOM.

I was never crazy- I was fun but in a dork kinda way.  I wouldn't call going to see Rocky Horror Picture Show at the Neon movies at midnight every Saturday with St D and my crew as necessarily "wild". 

But, I used to be young.

And I revel in the memories.

I smile thinking of my "past".  I smile even more at my PRESENT.  And I look forward everyday to my FUTURE.

 

I know I used to be nerdy

Straight A's but GOD was it fun

I know I used to be normal

That's cus I used to be young.

 BREATHE, BREATHE IN THE AIR...DONT BE AFRAID TO CARE...

I gotta be honest- I really wasn't much into the countdown, the constant yammering, of the solar eclipse. I went into yesterday without even (PARISH THE THOUGHT) possessing a pair of eclipse glasses!  (yeah, I know!)  My news family on Newscenter 7 were counting down for the last 3 months,  and although the idea of the economy being boosted by something other than Taylor Swift was encouraging, I approached April 8th like well... I didn't.

I tend to be one of those people that get uber excited about 3 minutes before the "event"- New Years Eve is just a fun, end of the year ritual, complete with celebrating the birthday of our great friend, prepping to drink like I was going to the chair, and THEN, about 90 seconds before the ball drops in Time Square, my inebriated heart starts to race a bit.

So all of that said, yesterday was just a normal Monday, complete with pondering my life decisions as I hopelessly got ready for work.  By about 12:30 pm, I was the sole survivor in the office, considering my lack luster attitude about the eclipse must have telekinetically been transposed to my boss, because not once was I told "Hey, get on outta here around 1 and go enjoy the eclipse at home!"  I sat here ticky tappin away on my keyboard, working, scowling...

Then, as I was eye rolling life... I noticed.  It was about 1:32pm.  Hmmmm.. wonder what's goin down outside?  I walked out and looked directly at the sun (yeah) and thought ok, I dont see shit!? (other than the start of retinal burn) I thought it was going to start around now?  My daughter shortly after texted and said "The sun is halfway covered, it's actually pretty cool looking".  OK.... my blessed eldest nugget usually doesn't get too excited about this crap either, so for her to relay this information to us, I started feeling it.  That "90 seconds before the ball drops".  I saw the guy from across the hall out smoking and asked if he had any extra glasses, and said he has one pair and they are on his desk and "have at".  I found said glasses and walked back outside and looked up (properly) and saw it- the moon was beginning to blanket our sun!  Amazing that the solar eclipse glasses um, actually WORKED?
I then found myself stepping out (like Joe Jackson told us to do back in the 80s) about every 15 min, eye spyin (properly) and being in awe of I don't know.. our universe?  I started noticing more and more of the fine employees of building 228 going out back to the parking lot and one of them asked me if I needed glasses because "she has a ton of them".  I thanked her and saundered outside.  It was about 2:50pm. 
And then it happened.
I was again amongst the finest people that I don't know- I see some of the gals in the potty from time to time- nice "good morning" smiles are shared in the lobby.  And yet me and this merry band of 228 office building goons were about to experience BEAUTY that none of us will ever see again in these here parts.  I booted up "Dark Side of the Moon" on my phone- some nameless guy sitting on the concrete wall said "Hell yeah!", and started singing.  Another guy said he was going to go and lay in the grass.  I found myself chuckling with some of the ladies, laughing how the news had to "inform people" NOT TO DRIVE with the glasses on- UM, I was blinder than Stevie Wonder?  NO SHIT!  We kept looking up and every now and then mentioning "ONLY A SLIVER LEFT".
Soon after, TOTAL ECLIPSE!  We all marveled at the drop in temperature.  The sky went to dusk.  I LITERALLY heard crickets!  We marveled at the beauty in front of us as we all dropped our glasses to our hands.  We felt spiritual.  We were, if only for a few brief minutes, a "family"?  No "pleasant" smiles in a lobby.  No "flushing of toilets" to interrupt restroom small talk.  We were experiencing one of natures most spectacular phenomenons- together.  We laughed.  We stood looking at Heaven in awe.  Suddenly the world didn't exist around us except for what was placed in front of us.
Then we all smiled, nodded, and walked back into reality.
I said last week in my first blog in 914 years that I find beauty in the ordinary.
I found PEACE in the extraordinary.

 EWWWWWW THAT SMELL!

 

My sister and I were never raised to put "hammer to nail" so to speak. 

 Dont get me wrong- lil sis and I had great childhoods!  But my father was never really "hands on" when it came to home improvement- and the lovely Linda Marie had the most kick ass father in allll the land (at least the 45416), so Grandpa was always our knight in shining tool belt!

I suppose this is why we barely knew what a wrench was, let alone how to build a fence.  I recall the first time I knew the difference between a flat head and Philips head screwdriver (which wasn't all THAT long ago), and all of the sudden thought I was Bob freakin Villa!

But slowly over adulthood, and being married with a mortgage, St. D and I realized that it was much cheaper to LEARN and DIY than to hire someone to do it for us.  It was around that era that I started to first experience my first interactions with...well..."those places".  Again, I never grew up with home improvement projects being thrust upon me and if it wasn't Kmart, Rinks, Gold Circle, or Salem Mall, I just didn't SHOP THERE!  I could tell you where Funway Freeway was in said mall, but couldn't tell you what "drywall" was.  Learners, Elder Beerman, J C Penney, and Sears were my meccas, but NEVER the "Black and Decker" section of Mr. Robuck.

Those places.  Quotation makes adorned those two words, so ya just KNEW I'd explain.

I'm talking about... (pause, whew... just... the feels coming over me just THINKING about them)... HOME IMPROVEMENT STORES!

Lowes. Menards.  Possibly Home Depot (dont really hit that one much but I'm sure it would give me the same awesome sense of euphoria).  A few years back, my girlfriend and I talked of our love... our love of the the smell of walking into a Lowes- and knowing that shit was about to get REALLLLL special!  The smell hits you in the face like a brick of pesticide- MMMMMMMM my GOODNESS TAKE THAT SHIT IN!  

Whether it's a major room renovation, or needing light bulbs- "Hi I need a mega bottle of Downy Unstoppables", or "Hey um, the dog crapped on our brand new Burber, can ya point me in the direction to Floor Coverings, and the nearest pet cemetery", these utopias of blue collar just hit me where I live!  The aroma tantalizes your senses the second you walk in to find a cart... or a pallet...and I feel more alive than I normally do on a lazy Saturday.

As I was mowing our lawn this morning, (with our new self propelled Toro Mower, purchased at yea... LOWES), I began dreaming of a reason to go after I was finished.  MULCH!  BLACK MULCH FOR THE BACK GARDEN!  Once my task was complete, I knew all that I had to do was wash the sweat off of my face and run a brush through my weave to relieve it of any lawn/bush debris.  I texted Abs to let her know that I was "GOING TO LOWES"... her reply "OOOF, how embarrasing", and OFF I WENT!

As I saundered into the Lawn and Garden section, I realized that this wasn't going to be a quick "Hi I need 4 bags of Premium Black Mulch" kinda visit.  No.  I was by myself.  With a Lowes card (well ok, St D has it but ya throw them your license and they will find ya.. oh yeah,... they will).  I walked into my Graceland, and began lovingly gazing at patio furniture.  Then lawn gnomes.  I found myself eyeballing "pond fountain pumps", even though I don't own a fountain.  Or a pond.  I dreamed of gutting our kitchen (again) and replacing everything with stainless steel appliances...I ran my lawn work stained hands over PVC piping like Ralphie did the Leg Lamp in A Christmas Story.  Why?  Cus I could.

Why was I looking at Clorox Pool tablets?  Do I really need another pair of garden gloves?  (Considering I dont wear them anyways- revert back to "lawn work stained hands")  I walked down aisles looking at light fixtures, Valspar paint, and storage bins.  I breathed in the smell of ceramic floor tile, and almost did one of those Julie Andrew twirls as I got to (man..oh man..) LUMBER!  I was in my paradise.  I was in my Heaven.  Like MacLemore in a Thrift Shop, I'da bought a broken keyboard, if it smelled like Miracle Grow.

I ended up buying my 4 bags of mulch and a bottle of Dasani water- $11.08 cash.  My mental tab by the time if was all said and done? Around $93,768.14.

Ponds aint cheap.

 OHHH what's 12, 13 years....

BLOGGER!  OH how I have missed thee!  Well ok, truth be told I haven't thought much about blabbing my inner most thoughts for some time- again, laziness, age, mortgages, adult children, small godchildren, kinda, sorta take up a lot of time, ya dig?

I used to be able to come up with plithy dribble at the drop of a hat.  I'd be drifting off to sleep, wondering why my thoughts were racing, and instead of counting sheep, I would get up, boot the old "Gateway" desktop (sitting next to our bed), and write a half hour diatribe about insomnia and stupid shit entering my nighttime thought process ("did I pay the DP&L bill, why is an olive floating in my brain).  I would see a commercial for "E-Harmony" and immediately write a damn Lifetime in my head- complete with names and weirdo scenarios.

Then eh, again, who knows what happened?  I always blame shit on "getting older", but I honestly think my new passions in the evenings were no bra, PJs, and any game that I could download onto my phone.  Dont get me wrong, those are STILL my PASSIONS (I will be playing that shit sans 8:42pm later this evening), but something lately has just rejuvinated my want.. no, my NEED to write?  If only for those that know me to read and begin compiling "evidence" for my commitment hearings down the road.

It possibly began this past Sunday.  It was Easter Sunday to be exact.  We just got done having an amazing family get together at my daughter and son in law's house, and because I can't leave any dish "unwashed", I stayed behind to help them with K-P detail.  My sister and her family went to the cemetery to visit my dad, nephew, and grandparents, and once I was done, and since St D and Abs drove home separately, I ventured to said cemetery on my own to pay my respects.

I used to love cemeteries.  I mean I would go on my lunch break (when I took them) and walk around, visiting "older" relatives, enjoying the peace.  The tranquility if you will.  Sunday was a gorgeous day- sunny, not super chilly... I found myself kneeling over my nephew and my dad, picking a few weeds around their stones... apologizing for stepping on them.  I then drove to the back of said cemetery and talked smack with my bestie's daughter... 

Then I realized- I was weeding my nephews tombstone.  I was talking smack to my best friend's daughter... laughing with my dad at how I hoped I wasn't stepping on his nutsack.

I realized- fucking life got in the way.

It smacks you in the face like an anvil.  It takes those that you love with every ounce of your soul without even asking permission.  

I've been absent from writing for some time, but I can guaran-freakin-tee you, the last 7 years, I've had no joy in regailing anything in writing.  We as a family and close knit friend community trudge on- we god damn HAVE TO!  And life in general is glorious.  Redd in Shawshank said it best-"get busy living, or get busy dying".  LIFE took that away from those we have lost.  WE have a choice.  So we get busy LIVING every. Damn. Day.  And I find beauty in the most ordinary things.

But sometimes, I'm reminded that "some birds aren't meant to be caged, their feathers are just too bright.  And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice, but still the place that you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone.  I guess I just miss my friend." 

I need to stop being afraid to write.  I need to laugh at the ridiculous.  I need to take my insomnia and turn it into an imaginary story of the ants I saw in my bathroom one night and their sad stories of their anthill condos being destroyed by leaf blowers.. and how Chris and Stephanie now have to find subsidized housing...

I wanna get back to silly.