Supernova

From the original 300 posts: 

This may be the most emotionally raw thing I have ever written

~ December 2008 ~

 


An epiphany always happens when you least expect it and usually at the most inopportune time. This one started in the presence of a friend, who was being honest and sweet, but it came to fruition as I drove home behind tear filled eyes.

As the tears fell, these words…”Why? Why? Why? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” became my chant, over and over again; so confused, so disappointed, and so completely pissed at fate!

I tried painfully and unsuccessfully to find my words as the epiphany happened, I cried myself to sleep like a wounded child, I woke up with my eyes swollen shut and attempted to write again, but all that came out was jumbled and jaded nonsense.

As the day slowly crept forward; the tears eased up and some smiles returned thanks to a great friend who was there for me as I began to unravel and fray in the early morning hours…I know it could not have been easy to witness; as a matter of fact I could see and feel just how tough it was for you too, it is difficult to see a friend breakdown. You are a wonderful and beautiful friend, and I am grateful for the comfort, encouragement and support. I want to thank you for the Kleenex, the shoulder to cry on, and for always being my source of smiles, especially when smiling seems to be the hardest thing to do…I can no longer imagine my life without you in it.

Finally…The words came to me!

The conversation that started the tears hurt like hell, because our connection is undeniably spectacular and sparkling and if any two people had a chance to be amazing together it is us, but what happened afterward had very little to do with the original conversation.

The epiphany and the emotions I could no longer control were three years in the making; it was every bit of anger I had in me for having my trust and faith disregarded, for being taken for granted, and for every fucking broken promise!

I am exhausted, but I have some clarity…

I am not the one you take home to your parents…
I am the one you take to the party.

I am not center front row…I am the back of the balcony.

I am not your life…I am a moment in time.

I am not your foundation…I am your muse.

I am not Christmas…I am Saturday night.

I am not your home…I am your escape.

I am not the meal…I am the cocktail.

I am not the wife…I am the mistress.

And…

You are smart, sweet, and sexy.

You are fun, funny, and fabulous.

You are the sun, the moon, and the stars.

You get the joke, and can catch what is pitched.

You are happy and never cause drama.

You look at me with love in your eyes.

You listen to every word I say.

You are concrete and steel.

You are satin and lace.

You encourage me.

You support me.

You are my friend.

You are my lover.

Your smile.

Your eyes.

Your ass.

You.

No…Her.

Vulnerable

Sometimes a word or idea gets stuck in my head and I can’t let it go until I have thought about it, chewed on it, discussed it, and finally written about it…here’s the latest:
 
“Vulnerable” – there is not one definition of this word that I would be happy to apply to myself or be referred to as:
 
The definitions of vulnerable; open to attack, weak or helpless, in danger, breakable, gullible, at the mercy of, exposed, naïve, inexperienced, easily hurt, and insecure. The word origin of vulnerable is derived from “to pluck, tear, or wound” – you must be kidding…fuck all of that!

Some say “the greatest strength comes from allowing yourself to be vulnerable”, and I agree if you complete the thought “the greatest strength comes from allowing yourself to be vulnerable in the presence of love and trust”. Unconditional love and complete trust, when mutually reciprocated, supports and strengthens every aspect of your life, because you are free to be exactly who you are, and as such allows you to be open, emotional and yes, vulnerable.

I have a great deal of empathy and sympathy for others; I am the first to cry with or for someone, I am supportive and thoughtful, and I’m a good listener and hand-holder. I can be all of those things and still not expose my own vulnerability to the “world at large”…I am content with this aspect of myself, and I comforted knowing that my own vulnerability is safe and protected by a very small group of people whom I love and trust completely.

Being vulnerable in the absence of love and trust feels like madness to me, a self-inflicted wound.

Love and trust, can you truly have one without the other?

“We're never so vulnerable than when we trust someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy” ~ Walter Anderson

Originally published on MissA2011 ~ May 2012

7. From the Hub...

Bam-BOOZE-led!

A well made margarita is a joyful thing. A sweet martini can make the world that much more fabulous. A shot or twelve of some silly named concoction can make for some mischievous memories; most of which end up with your skirt above your head, and eventually your head resting on cold porcelain.

There is nothing wrong with good cocktails, especially in the company of good friends.

When you are young (before the legal drinking age) sneaking alcohol is a right of passage and another way to rebel…some of the stupidest things you will do while drinking alcohol occur before you turn 21.
When you are legal to drink and possibly for the next 10 plus years; you will have a rip roaring good time, you will burn your candle at both ends, and you will start to realize ever action has a consequence while intoxicated, not that this realization will necessarily stop you.

Somewhere in your thirties there will be a moment when you realize your hangover is no longer cured by eating McDonald’s, drinking plenty of water before and after a night of drinking is smart thinking, and you are still cool even if you don’t do shots.

Somewhere around forty you are smacked in the head with the fact hangovers now last a minimum of two days, going to a club and staying out until 4am is no longer an option, and getting drunk happens unexpectedly and rarely…the days of planning your binge have long since faded away.

So, why did I feel the need to write about drinking?

On my 36^th birthday I was downtown surrounded by friends with a margarita in each hand and two between my feet (last call and my friends wanted to make sure I was hooked up)…I was already lit up like a Christmas tree…I had an epiphany; I no longer belonged here – I was no longer this person.
I watched twenty-something year old girls stumble and fall, and all I wanted to do was help them up and take care of them. I watched middle-aged men chase and gawk after women half their age, and all I wanted to do was tell them they were being pervs and these girls could be their daughters…as intoxicated as I was, I knew what I was witnessing wasn’t entertaining, as it once would have been, it was just sad.

As I was having this epiphany, somewhere across town was a group of young girls, who I knew well, that were probably as intoxicated as I was, and smack dab in the midst of believing the only way to have fun is to be drunk.

I have always been surrounded by girls 15-20 years younger than myself…I had a job where I worked with them, and I have two nieces that are in the same age range. These young women are funny and smart, and it has been my honor to spend time with them.

These girls, like all the girls that came before them, have made stupid decisions and are starting to reap what they have sewn…some of them have gotten DUI’s, some of them have become alcoholics, some of them have failed out of college, and some of them have been injured, both physically and emotionally.

As they, or someone they know has been slammed with a consequence from their actions, remorse and regret has begun to seep in to their lives, unfortunately it is still fleeting.

I want to protect them, I want them to heed my advice, and I want them to not repeat my same mistakes…I can want these things until I am blue in the face, and still I know they have to learn it for themselves.

I want them to know they are loved for who they are, and maybe just maybe, some of us that are “older and wiser” are not passing judgment…we are passing along good advice with no bullshit attached.

I want to be able to have cocktails with them and not worry about the damage they will do to themselves...one day soon I hope, but until then, they can still call anytime for a ride home!

 

Originally published on HubPages ~ October 2011

6. From the Hub...

Let's play in the sprinklers instead!

For twenty years I worked more weekend days than not, and frequent conversations revolved around what people had planned for their days off. I always hoped I would hear about fun and exciting plans, but sadly all I usually got was the run down of errands and housecleaning…so much for living vicariously through strangers as you toil away under fluorescent lighting.

I did learn a valuable lesson as I participated in some of the most mundane conversations of my entire life…it is better for your mental health to run errands, if at all humanly possible, on the days you work. On your work days, you are already dressed and moving about the world - making your pit stops before, during or after work is a smart use of your time, and frees you up to enjoy whatever curls your toes on the weekends.

The postal workers, grocery store checkers, oil and lube dudes, hairdressers and each and every retail clerk will express their gratitude for seeing you during the week, and your friends, family, children and significant other will enjoy making new memories with you on the weekends.

As for housecleaning…that can be done anytime you are actually at home, so why waste your day off with such boredom. The washing and drying of laundry can be done while you are doing other things, unless of course you are still beating your clothes against a rock and hanging them on the line to dry. Sweeping, vacuuming, mopping, dusting and tidying up can be done during commercials breaks, in-between lulls on Facebook when no one is updating their status about their interesting lives, while waiting for your farm/city/empire/frontier/mafia to reload its energy bar, while waiting for your turn on “words with friends”, or while chatting/texting/sexting on your smart phone, of course this may require you to occasionally put your cell down for a few minutes…you will be fine.

So, the next time you are having a conversation about the plans for your weekend or days off…I hope you boast about the exciting adventures that lie ahead of you, or I hope you say that you plan on day dreaming and getting lost in beautiful and silly moments.

In your final moments will you say "you lived your life" or "your life lived you"…?

I know, I know, some people actually enjoy errands and housecleaning because the routine and schedule of checking everything off of their to-do list gives them a sense of accomplishment that their world has remained in order. For those people, go on with your bad selves…I have no desire to ruin your bliss :)

Originally published on HubPages ~ October 2011

5. From the Hub...

My parents divorced…WooHooo!!!

Divorce sucks and it tears apart families, we are all agreed, but not everyone wishes their parents had stayed married.

When I was a child I never wished my parents were still married, and as an adult I am grateful every day my parents divorced.

My sisters and I were raised by our Mother and this is our story…

We grew up on the poorer side of a middle class neighborhood; we did not worry about being shot, jumped, or violated in any way when we stepped past our front door. We freely rode our bicycles up and down any street, we played on playgrounds that were well maintained, drug free and free of questionable adults loitering about, and we swam at friends pool’s or at the local community pool that had a high dive and full time lifeguards.

We lived in apartments, rented houses, and with our grandma. We cleaned house on Saturday’s, usually during commercial breaks of whatever classic movie my mother was watching, and we always finished with plenty of daylight to spare. Then there were the Saturday’s when nothing got done, because we went to the beach instead!

New clothes were bought on sale before every new school year and again at Christmas, but name brand labels were no where to be found, except for the occasional pair of “please Mama please” sneakers…my finest begging and pleading moment was in 1982 for the most awesome pair of pink and black Vans ever!

Because money was tight…we did not have soda in our house; it was always homemade iced tea. No chips or store bought snacks; instead our mother would pop popcorn on the stove like a pro. We ate a lot of hamburger and tuna helper, but our mother always made sure we ate our veggies (real ones – no peas or corn for us). Every Sunday we had a traditional southern dinner with our grandparents. For a special treat we made homemade hot fudge sundaes; generic vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup, and cocktail peanuts. And last, but not least, was the special way every beach day ended…with a Wendy’s Frosty for every one of us!

Our mother did the best she could, sometimes working two jobs, to keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. She loved us unconditionally, she had an easy way about her, she always had a sense of humor, and she never brought a strange man into our home. It was always the four of us, no one came between us, but many friends were welcomed through the years to make themselves at home. Everyone used my mother’s first name, not because she wanted to seem cool, but because the last thing our mother wanted to be was a stuffy parent that would make you feel awkward…our home was warm, inviting, relaxed, and casual.

We struggled, we had a part-time and eventually an absentee dad, we did not have everything handed to us, we always had to be aware of money, we did not have the perfect house, and we knew that no one was going to save us.

We were rich in love, laughter and support, we learned how to work for what we needed and wanted, we did not make our lives about material possessions or worry about what others thought of what we did or did not have, and we all learned by our mother’s example that sometimes making the difficult decision is the only way to be free and the struggle if often well worth the reward.

Our mother put her children first, her career second, and her romantic relationship was private and not part of our daily lives.

Our mother had a successful career and none of us have “mommy” issues, her grandchildren and great grandchild think she is awesome, and our mother is still the cheerful and optimistic flirt she has always been.

Being happy and self confident is inevitable when you are blessed with a Mother who loves you unconditionally, without judgment, and supports and encourages you every step of the way…I would not trade my family or the way I grew up with anyone in the world.

Our story would have been much darker and depressing had our parents stayed married, and our family would be the very definition of dysfunctional.

Divorce saved us, all of us.

Originally published on HubPages ~ October 2011

4. From the Hub...

Everyone knows exactly 

what you are addicted to!

Every now and then there is some overweight person proclaiming “I love being fat, and plan on getting fatter!”…these people are lying and their pants are on fire!

This delusional person may have accepted they will never be svelte and lanky, but they do not love being fat - And don’t even get me started on wanting to be fatter!

Everyone is aware that being overweight takes a toll on your health, but overweight people know this far better than anyone else and they deal with their struggle every day.

Being overweight is the result of being emotionally addicted to food.

Most people who suffer with addiction can hide it from the general public, but when you are overweight everyone knows exactly what you are addicted to.

Every human being needs to consume food and food is everywhere…food addiction is the only addiction where you are required to continue to consume the one thing that you are addicted to…damn! damn! damn!

Of course as a food addict you should avoid sugary and fatty foods, you should portion control, meal plan, and deal with why you eat your emotions…every overweight person knows these things – I’d be willing to bet that most overweight people know more about dieting and weight loss than any expert in the world!

To conquer any addiction you need two things; someone who is ready and willing to get better, and a whole lot of someone’s supporting them no matter what – this may include professional help, and from your loved ones it may include a whole lot of honesty and tough love!

When you are overweight there are two types of healthy weight people:

The first person is someone who lives a normal lifestyle; they occasionally diet to drop some extra pounds they gained due to a happy or stressful life situation, they exercise for health and to offset their occasional indulgences, they have friends of all sizes and are supportive when asked to be, and they reserve their judgment…these are the people who cry with and cheer for every cast member on “The Biggest Loser”.

The second person is someone who has always been thin and fit; they diet continuously for fear of gaining one pound, they live in their gym clothes and by a strict routine, they worry about how every inch of their body looks, they also have friends of all sizes and are supportive when asked to be, but they do not reserve their judgment…these are the people who cry for you and tell you they know how you feel, and I have a feeling when they watch ‘The Biggest Loser” they say to themselves or maybe even out loud “how could you let yourself get that way?”

Both types of people can be great supporters when you are overweight:

The first type is good at being there during your successes and failures; when you slip and find yourself staring at the bottom of a pint of Ben & Jerry’s they are sharing a pint with you, when you call to tell them you lost 1.5 pounds they respond with the enthusiasm of a caffeinated cheerleader, and when you have stopped dieting, they don’t say a word and love you just the same.

The second type is good at the start of a diet and/or fitness routine; they will offer helpful tips and advice, they will offer to be your dieting or work-out buddy, and when you have stopped dieting, they don’t say a word and love you just the same.

Both types of people continue to love you just the same, but unfortunately they both say NOTHING when you stop dieting.

We always show our support at the start and finish lines, but very few of us maintain our support when the hard work is being done; when you hit craving potholes and frustrating plateaus, when you are faced with holidays and happy hour’s, when you ran into your ex or have a blind date, when your children have traded their halos for pitchforks, and when it’s a random Tuesday and the idea of steaming chicken and broccoli AGAIN makes you think you have been wrong about cellulite, it is attractive and I do love it…and how fast does Pizza Hut deliver?

We are responsible for our own lives and it is difficult to be there for someone all the time when you have your own life to live, but what if someone you loved pulled out a tourniquet and heroin needle and started to shoot up…what would you say and do…what if their addiction was food and you watched them devour a pound of M&M’s…could you or would you react the same as you did with the heroin addict?
Addiction is addiction, without enormous love, genuine help, and vigilant support…the addict will eventually die from their disease.

So, if you love someone who is addicted to food and I am quite sure you do, remember they are struggling every day. As with all addicts they may not always be easy to deal with, but if you approach them with honest and positive support you will make a difference…love is easy when everyone is smiling, but love is pure when you are willing to go to hell and back to save someone you are not willing to lose.

Originally published on HubPages ~ October 2011

3. From the Hub...

Version 4.0

We belong to Generation X…we were born during the Vietnam war, our Mother’s burned their bras, we were teethed on the sounds of singer-songwriters, our journey through puberty was captured by John Hughes, we witnessed technology advance at lightning speed, our music could be seen and we all wanted our MTV, and we survived and thrived on sarcasm and pop culture.

We remember when Reagan was shot by a man obsessed with Jodie Foster, the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded before our own eyes, Oklahoma City was bombed by one of our own, a massacre at Columbine High School made us thankful we had already graduated, and a beautiful Tuesday morning in September 2001 changed us forever.

Some of us have already hit 40 and some of us are heading directly into its path, as for me, it happened more than six months ago and much to my surprise…I have embraced it whole-heartedly.

I never dreaded turning 30 until I woke up on my birthday, and refused to let anyone wish me a “Happy Birthday” until my actual time of birth occurred, which thankfully was 5:44pm…I may have been a bit crazy! After the official time came and went I was good, and I would like to thank tequila for its role in my happiness that day!

I started dreading 40 the day I turned 39, and when I woke up on my 40^th birthday it didn’t matter what time it was, I was already an old crone…woe was I. I would like to thank tequila for its role in my happiness that day too, but because a hangover at 40 makes you feel like you are 107 for the next two days, I cannot.

Being in your thirties kicks ass and I would highly recommend them to everyone, and according to every person who has lived through their forties, it not only kicks ass – it takes names!

At 40…comfortable shoes and sexy shoes have equal appeal, being in a nightclub may feel a bit awkward when surrounded by people who don’t remember life before cell phones, words like consistent and reliable are sexy, arguing with a lesser adversary is pointless, you know where to find MTV and still you never go there, and your tolerance for bullshit is non-existent.

Some of us have children in college, and some of us are still trying to drown out the sounds of our biological clocks tick-tick-tocking. Some of us have been married for twenty years, and some of us are wondering if there is such a thing as happily ever after. Some of us see the future as the best to come, and some of us live in the memories of our youth (personally I think this primarily applies to men).

No matter where you are at 40, be thankful and grateful you are no longer in your 20’s ;)

 

Anthony Michael Hall is cooler than Judd Nelson...what?!

Originally published on HubPages ~ October 2011

2. From the Hub...

My name is MissA, and I am a chocoholic!

Can you even imagine uttering the statement "Ooooo, this is too chocolaty for me"?

Could you pass a bowl of M&M's without wanting a handful, or more precisely…the whole damn bowl?!

Do you look at people when they say "I don't like chocolate" like they are aliens?

Are you a CHOCOHOLIC? I am!

I do believe chocolate is a drug, at least for me, and I can use and abuse it like nobody's business...I am the Courtney Love of chocolate!

Giving up chocolate is like an alcoholic giving up booze, or a drug addict giving up anything that alters their state of mind.

It is time to go cold turkey and here is my plan…want to join me?

For me, any other non-chocolate sweet is like methadone, it isn't the same euphoria, but it does temporarily take the edge off.

So, to make sure I do not scarf down every Golden Oreo or Krispy Kreme glazed doughnut I will also give up any food that is not made with 100% whole wheat flour, this greatly reduces impulse buys of convenient treats and homemade goodies...if I really need to satisfy my sweet teeth I have to either take the time to bake, or go out of my way and probably spend too much money to find the treat that will do the trick!

As far as candy is concerned, I like the occasional Skittle or Starburst, but I have never made a beeline for these items, because duh they are not covered in chocolate and they make my tongue feel funny if I eat too much.

This decision is about a real addiction and not a diet trick...I am addicted to chocolate and I hope and pray I succeed at conquering this demon, and if I lose a few pounds in the process you will not hear me complain!

If there were chocoholic anonymous meetings I would go, and collect my milestone chips, instead of devouring chocolate chips.

Eventually I may give up sugar all together, but for now I will find contentment with being 0% cacao!

If you ever find me in a dark pantry, candy bowl or child’s holiday candy stash trying to score a Hershey's Kiss to get my fix…feel free to stage an intervention!

Originally published on HubPages ~ October 2011

1. From the Hub...

Is it better to be the heartbreaker or the heartbroken?

No one raises their hand and volunteers to be the heartbroken, unless they are a serious masochist. Being the heartbreaker is far easier in the moment, but what about when all the dust settles?
If the heartbreaker decided to end the relationship because love, sex, passion, friendship or compatibility no longer existed than you cannot blame him for wanting a happier life for himself, but what if the heartbreaker ends the relationship because he is afraid of commitment and believes his own excuses?

The heartbroken survive through the tears, insomnia, jealousy, depression, piled up laundry and dishes, hours of Facebook stalking, long torturous walks down memory lane, and letting their toenail polish chip and the roots of their natural hair color show.
It takes a strong woman to mend her broken heart, but it takes raw courage and whole lot of chutzpah to survive and prosper passed a man who gave up on her and their life together. A woman, who chooses to be heartbroken, rather than live with the excuses and fear of commitment, is a woman who could rule the world.
The heartbreakers are rarely changed when all is said and done, because the excuses still remain and making a commitment is just as scary as it ever was.
The heartbroken fell into the abyss, either by push or leap, and made it out alive and a whole lot smarter for the next time!

Originally published on HubPages ~ October 2011