Archive

Archive for the ‘Breathing Above The Foam’ Category

The Blotted Blemish

Sometimes when the crash is too intense, one has the option of simply losing themselves. That’s what I chose to do. After my dream was over, it was easier for me to lose track of time, to ignore the event and place one foot in front of the other in some lackadaisical semblance of, and attempt at ‘this too shall pass’.

School is a fantastic way to simply plow through days and nights. Children laughing (or fighting) helped to grease the passage of time, and just plain old ignoring it saw the night/day axis blur for a few months. Determination to rebuild new dreams – if only for spite, bolstered defenses. The biggest casualty lost was my faith. I thought “is it faith or luck’? Turns out I now believe more in luck.

Whatever the method I chose day-to-day, brings me back here once again.

My Big 5? I am a workhorse where I am right now. School is where my heart is and I’ve an ‘A’ average and am trying, despite severe money woes, to stay pat. Dating … not so well. Faith has been released to the wind. Accomplishments come steadily, but so slowly.

Time has moved and taken me with it. Still here. Here again, moving up.

The sun has risen again.

Advertisements

The Dream Is Over

I remember the time I pulled the rear bumper off of my car thinking I had the perfect solution.

A neighbor from across the street at my old house had purchased new property and they were about to begin construction on it. Knowing how much I loved gardening she suggested that I get to her new property and take as many blueberry bushes as I wanted. All I had to do was dig them up. I was chilled, that’s how excited I was at the prospect of having mature blueberry bushes! I arrived at her property with a pick, shovel and well-worn work gloves.

Surveying the bushes, I appraised a few that looked well-rounded and plump and began digging around the roots. Trouble was I soon found out, wild blueberry bushes have deep and hearty roots. For a few hours I picked, shoveled and tugged at a few bushes but still couldn’t pull one bush fully out of the ground. So, I had an idea. I would wrap some rope I had in the trunk around the exposed roots, tie the other end to my car’s rear bumper and simply pull them out! Why didn’t I think of that before?

Sweating, but determined, I tied the knots as tightly as I could on both ends, took off my gloves (which revealed a few open blisters on my right hand), and started up the car. I gently pulled forward so I could see that the slack in the rope was gone and carefully pushed down on the accelerator. After a few tentative rocking motions nothing happened. I could see as I leaned out of the driver’s side door that the rope was taught and that the bush was slightly leaning toward the car, but no hint of uprooting showed itself. So I pressed heavier on the gas pedal. Still, no giving up the ground for that blueberry bush!

Bolder, I backed up maybe ten feet and decided that building some speed would pluck it out of the ground as easily as plucking one of the juicy berries would be. One foot on the gas, the other halfway out the door and my head cocked toward the rear, I bolted. The ten feet took only a slight moment to cover, but I remember the sharp buck of the car at the end of the ten feet and the slam of the brake at probably foot number fifteen.

I hurried out of my car and could see the damage I had done even before I strode to the passenger door. Fifteen feet away, the blueberry bush stood – still solidly rooted in its original spot. Tied to its exposed roots was the rope. On the other end of the rope was my car’s rear bumper, pulled much closer to the bush than to my car by the force of the pull.

Eventually, I decided that with all the investment of time and effort I had put in, not to mention my car’s rear bumper, that bush was going to be mine no matter how it happened. I left the site, drove back to my house, came back with an old saw and cut those roots one at a time until I could pull out the bush and hoist it into my trunk – dirt, stray leaves, bugs and anything else that was attached.

I planted that bush in a special spot in my beloved garden and tended it daily for most of the first few weeks in its new location. In the next few years it prospered, giving up wonderfully deep blue/purple berries that satisfied both the wild life that happened upon the free feast, local kids that regularly came to pick a mouthful (and stained their clothes) while playing in the neighborhood and enough left over for my own family to incorporate them into pancakes, muffins, ice trays and daily round the clock snacks.

I remember my little girl, who must have been about four or five at the time, in a billowy yellow sundress and a white, wide-brimmed sunhat jumping sideways, circling the bush singing “Here we go ’round the blueberry bush, the blueberry bush …” and laughing her little girl giggle as she sang and pulled berries into her mouth.

I remember both of my boys helping me dig a pit to plant the huge bush in. And after the initial deluge of water for the bush, how we swung into an impromptu water hose fight. We sat down in the wet soil, shared sips of iced tea and I remember hugging them both – one on either side of me.

I loved that blueberry bush.  Read more…

Pending Future Post

What’s more puzzling; That you have enough time to read blogs everyday, or that you don’t have enough time to post?

I’ve been bobbing, eyes and nostrils above water, pockets loaded with the stones of school, work, a semi-symbiotic relationship and personal issues that must be dealt with. In the meantime, my apartment looks like the ‘before’ picture on HGTV, I need to do laundry, my car needs to be decluttered, I’m studying like it’s my full-time job and I’m running rapidly out of tea and honey.

Whatever happened to the simpler, halcyon days of sex and drugs and rock and roll? Apparently they’ve been replaced with curling up in bed watching a Nexflix movie, the occasional vitamin or aspirin and an .mp3 replaying highlights of a droning lecture.

One day I’ll look back and fondly remember that these are the good ol’ days?

Categories: Breathing Above The Foam Tags:

Unlikely Proposition

Who wouldn’t want to hear those words, I thought later?

She started off by telling me “You have lovely eyes.” I smiled and said “Thank you.” She then said that she bet that a lot of women had kissed my eyes romantically. Well, sure, I thought to myself, and they were tender kisses, laid down by velvety lips. Flash memories brought wonderful thoughts of encounters gone by.

I caught her looking at my butt when I was turned away from her and I flushed red.

With her smile still etched she said “You have a strong body for someone so thin.” I felt awkward but told her that I exercise a lot. Her eyes widened again and blurted “I’d like to see you with your shirt off.”  That stopped me short. She went further when she told me that she’d like to see me dance in front of her. This time it was my eyes that widened!

I gazed quickly at the picture of her that was in a thin, black frame on the wall. She was ‘a babe’ in that picture. Her trademark cover-story gleaming smile, her hair in a fashionable flip, a dip in the front of her dress that hinted at what lied beneath and a hem that was short, but even shorter due to a gust of wind that just happen to pass at the moment the picture was snapped and waved her dress slightly up and to her left. She was holding a sun hat, wide-brimmed and yellow that she held in front of her with both hands. Her petite figure was framed within the sun that was the background on the shoreline where she stood and it reminded me of a photo that might have been used to publicize a romance novel. Sweet, and very alluring.

She went for broke and whispered, just barely audible, “I want you in my bed.”

That was the line that shocked me. Although I’m not easily shaken, that pronouncement sent a shiver from my brain to my gut and caused me to involuntarily stand bolt upright. I heard what she said, but reeled with amazement at her bold verbal strokes. I felt the redness in my cheeks radiating heat down to my neck and became flustered.

Calmly she said “Come on, it will just be me and you having fun.”

I blinked, aghast at her words. I turned and walked away as I thinly smiled at her and said “Good night Mrs. Smith.”

Mrs. Smith is seventy-four years old and has progressing dementia.

Monday’s Over

Thankfully!

It’s not that I was annoyed or fed up with hearing and seeing everything V-Day related and the blatent commercialism peering and gloating at me, but it was more about not having that one soul – that one miracle, to join hands or lips with.

There are a few bloggers out there that are going the online dating site method to find that someone unique but not having much luck so far. I did do that for a while but found it bereft of warmth and personality. Maybe that simply means that I had no real luck at it. However, many others have found it a boon and have successfully met mates of great warmth and pleasing personalities. Like anything else, maybe it’s just the luck of the draw.

It’s tough for any of us that are not willing to go to bars spewing seed money at random red dresses, or those of us who have zero interest in a Yoga/Thai cooking class, or feel awkward holding melons and cucumbers in the produce section and with a grin asking a single soccer mom for shopping tips.

Sometimes it does bother me writing about the weariness and the general blasé attitude that comes with continuing the quest of looking for love after relentless searching and restless anticipation. The nights of simply looking down at the city – not necessarily thinking about anything, but bobbing up in the consciousness every so often the thought that it would be so much easier to bear another day and night alone knowing that someone holds you close to their heart and may be looking at the moon at the same time you are.

Or, perhaps they’re wondering, and hoping, that you are thinking of them and softly smiling with eyes closed.

The day after V-Day, when all the candy was on sale at Wal-Mart, I bought fifteen dollars worth of left behind, 50-75% off, odds and ends. I especially concentrated on those boxes of candy hearts with the little sayings engraved on them and made sure that every single woman in the building received a box of them along with a hearty “Happy Valentine’s Day” cheer from me. It seemed to made them all so happy and that, in turn, made me smile.

I did manage to sneak a very small six-pack of dark chocolates to a special someone. The delivery tag said “From – ?”. I’m letting it brew. Hey, you can’t sail if you don’t at least get on the boat, right? Do you have a boat?

The Only One Holding Me Back …

… is me.

I heard that on of all things, a TV show the other night and it will not let go of my mind.

You know, I’ve read most likely dozens of popular self-help books over the years and they all seem to melt into one or two globs of true wisdom:

  1. Get off your ass in one form or another
  2. Make it happen, no one else will

So, guess what? I’ve been formulating and developing a new attitude these last few days.

I’ve had my required grieving period and I’m all out of tears. I’ve spouted to anyone that would listen and I’ve nothing new to add. I’ve talked and imprinted onto myself what a lousy situation I’m in and nothing’s changed. And you know, after hearing from others (and myself) that ‘things happen for a reason’, why can’t I reinvent myself?

Really, why not?

So, dangerously out in uncharted territory, I’m taking wresting back control of my will, swearing at my lost opportunities and shouting out that I can forge into an area that I’ve previously underutilized – my own determination to make things happen.

Focus areas that I’ve found are most important to me:

More, after the Break

The Pot Is Simmering

What a few days it’s been!

While out on the road Friday early afternoon, I received a call on my cell. I didn’t recognize the number but seeming as I’m out looking for a job, I can ill afford to ignore a call.

I answered and a woman asked for me, we exchanged pleasantries and she told me that as she was looking through applications, mine stuck out because of my particular niche in the industry. My heart bounded higher than the nine lords a-leaping! She asked if she could set up an interview at some point and I told her that I could do it right now! She was a bit surprised but agreed. So off I drove to the facility while clutching my rosary and praying feverishly.

It’s a larger facility than the one that I have just left, but immaculate, warm and filled with activity. Much to my surprise we talked for over an hour! It went both ways – her asking me pertinent questions, and me asking what I felt was needed to ask about the building. After the interview, and after I drove away, I had to spontaneously yell in jubilation out of pure excitement over how well it went!

Shortly after I came back home, I received another call from her. She asked if I had a formal resume and could I come back Monday for a second interview and meet with someone else as well? Of course to both!

Needless to say, the weekend was brimming over with excitement, which I could barely contain, and I constantly went over in my head as to how else I could rightly bolster my qualifications and best prepare for Monday’s huge event. I wanted to anticipate, as best as I could, what questions might be asked and have ready answers.

Friday night I picked up my children (oldest was reluctant because of wanting to hang out with his friends) and alternated my time between keeping them well-loved and busy, and anxiously going over in my head how I needed to prepare.

Reaquainted girlfriend, again, came to my aid. We brought ourselves, and our combined children, together at her home on Sunday so I could work a bit more on my resume and print it out for Monday.  By the way, I made an awesome tasting blueberry pie!

Sunday night, after my little ones (little ones?) were picked up, she came over to my place and we talked over possible interview questions, situations and possible answers. It really helped me a lot to formulate potential questions, mull over possible answers and to talk them over out loud. What a session.

I went to bed earlier than usual to insure that I would be at my best. I woke up this morning, drank my usual cups of tea, ironed a clean shirt, showered, cleaned-up and drove away to the second interview.

More, after the Break

%d bloggers like this: