Invisible Friends

I have a lovely circle of invisible friends.

No, not unicorns that sit on my dash, big eyes glittering, understanding every word I mutter under my breath.

My Charlie buddy

Though Charlie is a fantastic pal to have, life is not complete without a pile of kittens.

The exodus of the kitten pile started eight years ago.  I was on a social networking site for moms and one day decided to randomly join some groups designated for debating.  At that time, I enjoyed a lively discussion over differing viewpoints, and thought I might meet some pretty cool cats along the way.

I had no idea.

As is the way of the woman, things would get bitchy.  Catty, if you will.  Gather any large numbers of estrogen, and you're going to see the claws come out.  Occasionally, the cray cray made an appearance, and you'd be left sitting at your computer thankful there was hundreds if not thousands of miles separating you from some of these people.  As dominant personalities emerged, so did the loonies.  So much so, that after nearly a year, things reached a peak of crazy-dom, and it was decided that several of us needed to go find out own safe corner of the site.

We called ourselves kittens, perhaps because of my own love of fuzzy little furballs, but also with the belief that even fuzzy little furballs have claws that can easily draw blood.    The exodus of women from the crazy group imploding was astronomical.  Obviously, I wasn't the only one tired of trying to guess when the next toddler tantrum would rear its ugly head.

This happened in late 2007, and by early 2008, we were debating everything from parenting options, local and world events, to politics.  And with politics, came the 2008 elections.

I pause for a moment...remembering.  Those '08 elections.  Damn.  The only time in my life I truly got passionate, and yes, a tad crazy, over a presidential race.  And boy, did that kind of crazy come out in all kinds of ways in our group that year.  In between the forming friendships, there were some really heated discussions.  Occasionally, discussions that involved hurling insults, name calling, and fire breathing radical views.  I know those '08 elections sent alot of people into hiding who did not come out until the dust had settled, if they returned at all.

Looking back, I don't blame them.  It was pure lunacy for several months in there.    But when the dust settled, many of us licking our wounds, we settled back into lighthearted debate and asking for advice.  Some wounds may have never healed, some friendships shifted, some strengthened.  What also seemed to happen is so many of us started losing the desire to debate with each other.  The same happened for me when a personal crisis happened shortly after the elections were over.  I no longer needed to discuss what was going on at that time in the world, but I sure as hell needed friends to lean on.

And that's exactly what I got.

We all eventually left that mom's site, or merely stuck around for other groups we participated in.  But the kittens had found each other on Facebook, and suddenly, life was no longer about debating.  It was about the very real friendships that seemed to have come out of a site that catered to the sanctimommies of the world. 

Several years on Facebook, and a group of women that numbered in the hundreds, has now whittled down to a circle of 25.  There are still other kittens who we've kept in touch with and still keep up to date with on Facebook.  But those 25.  Damn...it's like the inner circle that can not be broken.  Not in the sense of some kind of clique or club, but in the most genuine, precious friendships that can possibly exist.  Through the years, we have shared births, deaths, illness, marriage, divorce, family issues, relationship issues, and every happiness and joy we needed to immediately share and shout from the rooftops.  We know the personal, intimate details of each other's lives.  We laugh, cry, celebrate, feel pain, feel joy.  We are the soft place to land when life kicks us in the teeth.  We are the hug (even if it's virtual) that you need at the end of a very difficult day.  We have already seen each other at our worst, we have fought, we have hurt.

But we love.

We love each other fiercely.  Without demands.  Without an expected return.  We are individuals, from all walks of life.  All ages.  All different stages of life.  We come from different backgrounds, economics, and religions.  We are vastly different, and had we all lived in the same town, it is likely we would not have formed the friendship we have by learning about each other online.  A couple of us weren't even part of the debating groups, yet they feel as if they have always been there with us from the beginning.  We support each other in every way possible, and in some pretty amazing ways, considering we are scattered across this country.

Occasionally, the planets align perfectly so that we may finally "meet" one of our invisible friends.  And when that happens, it is MAGIC.  There are the initial butterflies, which could easily be mistaken for nervousness or anxiety.  The initial thoughts of wondering if it will be the same in person as it is online.  But as we've occasionally gotten opportunities to meet, we've all begun to realize that the butterflies weren't nerves...it was anticipation, and sheer joy.  Because after the initial squeal of delight and hug, it is like we have returned home from a very long trip away.  The conversation picks up wherever it last let off with an ease that can not be forced.  And parting from a visit is a mix of gratitude for the time together, and tears at having to leave.    There is an easiness to time with each others spouses and children, as we have experienced the relationships together, and watched the children grow.  We are family.

Through all the friendships in life, I had no clue that friendship could be this.  To love other women so passionately.  To see, through the years, the better person we become by being loved.  To know that I could hop in my car, knock on a door unexpectedly, and have a shoulder to lean on.  That at any hour of the day, I've got a circle of amazing women who have my back, who will be my strength, who are my joy.  Who actually enjoy hearing the mundane and routine of my day, as much as I enjoy hearing theirs.

Invisible friends.  If you don't have one...get one.  It is precious beyond anything you can imagine.

Are You Grateful?

I have a full day and evening to attend to, so now that the espresso has been inhaled, I will limber up the fingers with a frenetic typing pace and feel like I've kept my goal of writing more.

Today is about gratitudes.  I should do them daily, as another friend is doing on her blog, but the snark likes to come out and play too much to devote every day to being grateful.

Not to say I don't find things that I am grateful for each day.  It may not run through my head as a "I'm thankful for that", but I allow the dark twisted corners of my brain a warm fuzzy at least once, if not ten times, per day.

So, to begin, I'm grateful for this shit speed internet connection that saves me money by cancelling the Hulu that never works, but allows me to type out a list of gratitudes to share with the world.

I'm grateful for teens.  Not those crotchfruit I brought into the world, but the temperatures.  You know you live in an arctic blast zone when 18 degrees feels warm.  18 degrees makes you take your gloves off for that smoke break outside.  18 degrees makes your bare fingers cold instead of your gloved fingers numb. 

On the same note, I am grateful for those other teens.  Though I'm now in the stage of just one teen, since the other is an adult.  An adult who called to tell me about her classes, then talked about the errands she was running before going home to clean.  For all the bobby pins she left in her wake, she may perhaps actual be engaging in adult behavior as well.   And the teen brightened my evening by shoving a crusty roll in my face insisting he share it with me.  Not just handing it over type of shoving, but literally crushing it into my face and then throwing a large chunk of it into the leftover soup to insist that we share that last, delicious roll.

I'm thankful for the leftover soup, because work lunch just got easy as hell.  And delicious to boot.

I'm grateful for the Big Sexy Hair product line that makes an easy haircut even easier.  I'm thankful it washes out easily since my hair is shellacked and frozen daily.

I'm thankful for a spouse that knows what getting back to "normal" means to me.  He understands routine and the glory of it.

I appreciate something as small as going to see a movie.  In a large space, amongst other people.  Theater popcorn.  Knowing dinner will be out of the house tonight, and no cooking or cleaning will need to happen after work in an empty house.

I'm grateful for that heating vent just under the kitchen sink.  It is the perfect spot to set my shoes for the day to preheat them.  Mmmmm...toasty toes.

I'm thankful for the end of term in high school so the trend of grade nagging can start over from scratch.

I'm immensely grateful to work a job that I call my paid hobby.  For all its headaches, it sure is fun.  Even on the worst of days, there's something to laugh about.  Like a loon.  While weeping uncontrollably.

I'm grateful for temperatures inching their way toward 30 this week.  I may get that preheated beast into the car wash.  Parking on the street at work means a driver's side that looks like Old Man Winter puked violently the length of the truck.

I'm thankful I paid attention in English and Government class in high school.  So when I see the endless (and fruitless) rantings of people complaining about a visit from our President, I can realize how incredibly mired in negativity and blame they are, without fully understanding how the office of the President actually works.  While misspelling, and withholding as much punctuation as possible.  I can then see that our focus definitely needs to be on education.  It's reaching critical levels, as someday, these people may be in charge of making decisions about our future.  But they think "heard" is spelled "herd".  I'm frightened.  Or entertained.  I can't decide which.

I'm grateful for speakers.  And a large playlist.  Opera or Nine Inch Nails?  It really depends on what stage of getting ready in the morning I happen to be at.

I'm sure I could keep going, because once you start thinking of everything you are grateful for, it just comes pouring out.  Funny, how that works.  However, I must finish getting ready for that paid hobby, and take care of a few things since I will be partaking in a social event this evening. 

So, take a brief moment, and come up with your gratitudes.  Trust me, you'll be thankful you did.  *giggle*

Starting Fresh

A new beginning.  A fresh start.  An untouched page on a brand new calendar.  Exciting, isn't it?  The endless possibilities for the year are just waiting for me to grab them.

I'm not a resolution maker.  I never have been.  However, I love the start of a new year.  Something about filling in the desk calendar, turning those pages writing in the notes and reminders I already have for the coming months just seems to build the anticipation for what's to come.

Fortunately, the new desk calendar came early this year.  Because I was not aware of the New Year holiday.  Even today, when we're seven days into the year, I'm still having to look at the calendar to determine what date to write.

The blur of the holidays ended and in my endless planning and organizing, I made mental notes to scrap and toss several preparations that after the fact, seemed to be time sucking joy stealers.  It was a lovely holiday, but I was also glad to close the chapter because I was just so stinking tired.  Perhaps it was a hint of what was approaching.

The flu.

I've managed to escape any illnesses for a few years now.  I've had the occasional cold, or my ever present migraines have popped up, but actually being down and out is a distant memory.

Well, no more.  By New Year's Eve, I was wrapped in blankets wondering what my name was.  New Year's Day became the day that disappeared, because I have no recollection of it.  I actually called in sick to work which does not happen often in my world, especially with one of our busiest times of the year happening.  I actually considered that maybe I'd get alot of reading done while trapped in a house with a box of Kleenex and then the fever hit, crushing any thoughts of any kind from my brain.

It's a bastard of a virus.

A week into the new year and I'm human again.  Just in time for our fantastically wild sale and restocking of our store.  And lucky me, I find out exactly how much energy that flu zapped from my body when I try to do the normal things.  The typical hauling and moving things around leaves me feeling like I tried to stop a train on it's tracks.  No amount of sleep seems like quite enough, and the usual fits of giggles and laughter make me hack up a lung.

I am a fantastically bitchy and petulant sick person.  Not only does it make me occasionally feel like gouging someone's eyes out, but I also ignore my body and give it a big ol' fuck you and try to make it do what it's normally capable of doing.  And then suffer for it.

So I come home exhausted, to the sick husband.  The sick daughter (who started this little in home epidemic) has left for college again.  The teenage son is the miracle boy who doesn't even have the slightest sniffle.  The house becomes messier.  The Christmas decorations, including a monster tree, still sit.  Mocking me.  Taunting my lack of progress.  Reminding me that 2015 has started with me not having my shit together.

And as the flu makes it's exit, the polar vortex arrives.  Negative temperatures.  Wind chills diving it even further into temperatures that are just inhuman.  Bitter cold becomes a normal conversational phrase.  The drive to work slows down as the roads cover.  Layers upon layers of clothing just to shovel snow while freezing the snot in your nose becomes one of the early morning joys I enjoy.  School cancels.  Work does not.

Piss off 2015.  Just piss off and die.

So, having purged that, there is the bright side.   The little peek of sunshine blinding off the fields of snow.  The rays of happiness that give warmth to the days.

A full propane tank, since the furnace runs non stop to stay ahead of the -30 just outside the windows.

A nose that has stopped peeling, because I've stopped (mostly) blowing.

A mattress heater.  Preheated ovens are fantastic, but a preheated bed is beyond anything you've ever imagined.

Snow shovels.  Shoveling snow while the sun rises will wake you up more than any cup of espresso.

Restocking the store.  All the pretty things.  The bright colors of spring.  Starting fresh and new.

A husband home sick.  So if the pipes freeze, he gets to deal with it.  I've had more than my share of frozen pipes, and it's his turn.

Remote start.  The best part of winter.  Along with the heated seats.  It may be so cold that it feels like my glasses have frozen to my face, but once I'm in the vehicle, it's almost as good as the preheated bed.

Weather so atrocious that you can do nothing but read books.  And more books.  And more books.

So, ending on a high note, there are positives.  I have to search high and low for them right now, but they are there, waiting to be embraced.  I suppose I also should admit that I've been inspired by a fellow blogger who has set a goal to write more.  I had considered tossing this blog, especially when thinking of all the reading I could do instead.  However, there is something therapeutic in writing, and of course, it limbers up the fingers that are half frozen as I drink my cup of quickly cooled espresso this morning.  Perhaps we can motivate each other.

Embrace the new year.  Look for the positives.  It's a resolution worth making.

Celebrate

Daylight Savings Time my ass.  Fall back, gain an hour of sleep, blah blah blah.  Spring doesn't get to me, but this falling back an hour messed up my sleep schedule.  It wasn't the extra shots of espresso, or the random craving for a Coke at 8 last night.  It was the damn time change, and that's the story I'm going to stick with.

That being said, you would think four hours of broken sleep would have me walking around in a daze and incredibly cranky.  And it very well could have, but in one of those moments of staring off into the dark last night, I decided Monday morning would include walking.

I've taken up walking at the rec center on work mornings to get an extra oomph factor going in my day.  Typically, with Monday being my day off, and a gathering for coffee at the local coffee shop early in the morning, I would skip the walking.  But, bleary eyed and not feeling the espresso I already had at home, I hauled my ass to the rec center and walked without a partner and just a very bouncy playlist going in the earbuds.

The day is significant...it is the 4th anniversary of my grandmother's death.  I still think of her daily, and feel her influence on my life.  Her death was one of the most precious moments in my life.  How many people can call the passing of a loved one such a thing?  I got the privilege of being at her bedside for the last three days of her life.  Surrounded by family, supporting each other, laughter and tears, and quietly saying goodbye as she took her last breath.  It gave me something no other life experience has.  Along with all the lessons this courageous, independent, devoted woman taught me in her gentle ways, I was able to give back by being at her side in her last moments on earth.  It was beautiful.  It was precious.  It was worth celebrating.

Yes, celebrating. 

Though I grieved, I rejoiced at having had such a special woman in my life.  I choose to honor her in living the fullest life I can.  I embrace the fiercely independent, stubborn, wild streak in me, because I know she lived the same.  I grab each day by the balls and try to squeeze the everloving hell out of it, because in doing so, I represent her legacy. 

In her death, I learned to celebrate life.  I dance randomly.  I get silly.  I laugh.  I have stopped taking this very short time on earth so seriously, and learned how to cherish it without feeling the heavy burdens our own brains can put on living.

I miss you, Grandma.  And I thank you, for making me a better and more authentic ME.

It Begins

Day one.

Technically, day two, but yesterday was my day off, so I did not get the joy of the first work day of the boss lady's vacation.

The dear, sweet woman takes off every September, typically for the entire month, but this year, delayed that by a couple weeks.  We're looking at three weeks divided between three of us, with a fourth week of maybe the boss returning for a handful of days before taking off again.

Chaos is not quite the proper term to use.  In fact, I'm not sure there is a term in the English language quite colorful enough to describe it.

Tomfuckery, clusterfuck, fuckaroo...whatever I use to describe it somehow uses the f-bomb in one way or another.

Yes, I understand, it is our busy season.  It was our busy season last week when the boss was present.  It was still the busy season up until she left an hour early on Saturday to hit the road.

And then the alarms, sirens, bells, and warnings sound state wide. 

Yes, I think somehow, in some way, people are notified the moment the boss is gone, and they are told to not only go to our store, but to get their asses there as quickly as possible and then create the biggest possible fuckaroo, clusterfuck, tomfuckery they can.

Even that one hour on Saturday was complete chaos, so I really think I'm on to something here.  Monday's are typically hectic, with the rushing to get those items cleaned out over the weekend into our store as quickly as possible.  But you would think that would mean that Tuesday would see it starting to settle down.

Oh hell no.

I should have known.  I had all the signs glaring at me yesterday, forewarning me of the insanity that was about to take over my life.  In my day off, I managed to get so much cleaning, rearranging, organizing, and decorating done in my own home.  Even FatBastard taking a shit on my new rug didn't slow me down.  And I have to admit, he was right...that rug looked like kaka.  But by the end of the day, I had a home that made me want to just sit and enjoy.  I even rounded out the day baking a cake.  From scratch.  Merely because I felt like it.  I had my shit together and perfected life better than Martha Stewart on crack.  It was like Pinterest took over my soul and navigated my day for me.   Yesterday was a big, giant WIN.

Today was breaking in new boots that wanted to give me a big fat blister.  Ending up in display windows under the pressure of changing them out before I got strung up from a light pole by salivating customers.  Making such a gigantor mess that I then had to rearrange and redecorate the entire front half of the store.  Feeling the accusing eyes on me when I don't immediately respond to where the orange pillows have gone to.  Knowing in my heart of hearts that the orange pillows would nicely tie together my Country Living magazine spread living room, and feeling myself break out into a cold sweat until the customer puts them back down.  Having to tell someone that saving merchandise for them is not an employee perk we are allowed.  Being met with dead silence when I try to keep the humor in the day.   Better yet, when I say the job is more a hobby, being taken seriously and garnering sympathy for working for pennies...nope, not looking for sympathy, just trying to say it's FUN, you funsucking twit.

I've got to find that billboard, or community announcement, and take it down, shut them up, and for the sake of all that is holy, let us get just ONE thing done in a day.

But the highlight of the day?  No, it wasn't the child trying to crawl in our window.  It wasn't having to ask two young women why they kept looking at the ceiling.  It wasn't having to alert parents that their children were tearing toy packaging open.

It was providing one on one service to a very special young woman who will be the Grand Marshall in our homecoming parade.  We've got her dressed in a trendy, fun, adorable outfit tailored to her love of sparkles that comes out in her shining personality.  From greeting her at the door with a fall leaf garland wrapped around my neck, complete with a dance and twirl, to dressing her head to toe and soaking up that smile on her face, I couldn't have asked for a better day.

That's what it's all about.

Penny pay, tomfuckery, chaos while the boss is gone.

And joy.

Happy Happy Joy Joy

It's time for a daily gratitude list, even if I am deliriously tired and feeling like I can only walk while dragging my leg behind me.  Just call me Igor.

I was grateful this morning to wake up at a normal time, which mean the beginnings of dawn shining onto the stairs.  It was just light enough to see that FatBastard, previously known as FatCat, was not sleeping on the top stair to send me tumbling to my death.  Or bruised ass.

I am beyond thankful the man child did not wake up in a fit of sheer grumpiness, even though he managed to sleep through 20 minutes of an annoying buzzing alarm clock, and I had to knock on his bedroom door twice to rouse him from his blissful slumber.

I am grateful for weird ponchos that only have one option for accessorizing, thus making my morning choices very limited and time saving.

I am thrilled with time saving closet choices because it meant getting to the espresso sooner.  The espresso brewed in THE machine.  Which works perfectly, making a divine whoosh whoosh sound as it spews its silky nectar of the gods.  All for a glorious $3.00.

I am grateful for haircuts that cut 2 minutes off my morning prep time.  Instead of a five minute hairdo, I'm back to three.  Again, making more time for that silky nectar of the gods.

I am thankful for all my morning time saving which allowed me to catch up with friends and family on Facebook.  Tomfoolery and shenanigans abound.  Always a great start to the day.

I found a new appreciation for animal crackers.  When you eat them for lunch at work, you sort of feel like a kid again, which makes you feel even sillier than the norm.  Some would say that's dangerous, I call it fun.

I am grateful for a productive morning, because I felt like I didn't get anything done through the afternoon.

I am thankful for customers, because they are why I didn't get anything done in the afternoon.  But I was able to enjoy chatting with people I had not seen in awhile, regulars, and strangers.  It's one of my favorite parts of the job...the interaction and people time.  Amazing to think that I'm actually a people person.  Especially after animal crackers.

I am grateful for dinner with my parents.  Such a simple thing, but one of the really big joys of life.

I am thankful for a body that still tries to work even after bruising it.  It may ache and hurt, but it still moves.

And finally, I am grateful for joy.  Such a simple thing...that word "joy".  There's a piece of joy in every day.  Some days, I have to look for it a little harder, like when I decide to go tumbling down a flight of stairs at 4AM.  But it's there, always, waiting for that moment I grab it, squeeze it, and think "aha...there you are, my warm, fuzzy friend."

I may even share the joy and forgive the FatBastard.

Restarting Gratitudes

I used to do a gratitudes lists quite frequently, so don't ask me why I don't do them on a blog.  Helloooooo, where better to list out the reasons you are grateful for the day?

Today is a really random day, filled with random things, random people, random thoughts that will slip in and out of my head, so none of this is going to make sense, and it has nothing to do with the Jack Daniels flavored ice cubes I'm sucking on.

Today, on this mid week slump day, I am thankful for....

Really cute shoes that are not sandals.  Because I need a pedicure and I have felt like a sloth where my toes are concerned.

A hair appointment next week, because the easy breezy 3 minute prep haircut is now taking 5 minutes every morning and that is cutting in on my espresso time. 

Quick reflexes (even with the Jack Daniels flavored ice cubes) so I can smash the random weird bug floating in front of my face while I type. 

50 Cent rocks glasses from Goodwill so I don't feel like such a lush pouring a tall one.  And another tall one.  And another tall one.

Two layers of top coat so my nails don't look quite as heinous as they should.  Heinous.  Just not REALLY heinous.

Headphones so I don't have to type with the sound of endless Supernatural episodes in the background.

Old wavy glass windows so the neighbors can't quite tell that I'm watching their hillbilly gathering going on.

Cute clothes because it distracts the customers from the crazed look in my eyes.

Cool July weather so it makes it easier to justify buying (and selling) cute sweaters.

A Jack Daniels bottle that is not quite to a point of emergency level.  Two more drinks and we'll have a problem.

THE purse.  Because everything is better when I stick my head in the purse and sniff.

Spending too much money on purses, because I'm now downsized to only three and it freed up another shelf in the closet.  A shelf I can fill with sweaters.  Or shoes. 

A boss with a sense of humor.  She completely understands when my eyes go blank and I start laughing hysterically when asked a really simple question.

Realizing that some people can't stand next to something and say how big it is.  Even when it's as tall as they are.  And then they ask you, and you start laughing so hard you nearly pee your pants because your mind has gone completely blank and the obvious questions seem to be the hardest ones.

Empty bins.  Because you won't have them for long.  You're going to fill ALL of them while the boss is gone.

Tuition that did not increase.  Because you just bought THE purse, and still feel no guilt over it.

A sense of humor.  Because not everyone has one.  What dull, sad lives they must lead.  Laughter cures everything.

What are YOU grateful for today?