~ written for Sunday Scribblings
Everyone says hindsight is 20/20, oh wait that is too cliché for an opening sentence. Well my youth was cliché so perhaps it works in it’s own way. I was angst ridden in my youth, not popular but not unpopular. While I may have been worrisome to my folks it was not what you think. Sure I may have frazzled them to death my endless questions and anxiety and need for reassurance – this lasted well into my 20’s and the anxiety part….well let’s just say we are still aquaintences.
I never had a curfew because I was never out late. I never really got grounded because well…I was never out late. I did have a “sassy mouth” on me and a persistent demand to get the last word in always. Drove my mother NUTS.
I didn’t drink at all until sometime around 17-18. Didn’t lost my virginity till I was 20. My biggest mis-spentness in my youth was my “sassy mouth” my insecurities, and my love of spending. I am still working on all three to some point I suppose, only now I prefer to call it dry wit or sarcasm.
I guess if you stretch “youth” into my twenties then there were plenty of mis-spent moments. Maybe I just came into pushing my boundaries, and whooping it up until then. Still what I consider my “wild days” were tame in comparison to most others I know. Still there are a few numbers I would like to turn back the clock and lower!
Am I the adult I thought I would be when I was a kid? In some ways…I am married and I have a dog. I fell short of being a pediatric oncologist or a Peter Jennings-esque journalist living in a huge loft in NYC, but that is OK with me. I am glad to not live in NYC. I don’t think I ever could have envisioned doing what I do for a living now simply because technology was not where it is at now.
Some things never change – I loved to read and write then and I still do now. I still like to shop and still manage my money with less finesse than I would like. I still and always will love; ice cream, pasta, risotto, cheese, pizza, my mom’s homemade sauce, and the ocean. My desires now are simpler though.
I can honestly say though that if I could turn back time there is only one thing I would change – and that stays with me.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Monday, November 12, 2007
Writer's Island - Friendship
~ written for Writer's Island
So the leader of Writer's Island tosses out "Friendship" as the word of the week. Does he realize that novels, I mean EPIC novels could be written on this topic and that there are at least a dozen different paths I could take with this prompt? First let me say this, ironically enough I too just finished reading "The Kite Runner" this week. I was blown away by it. It wasn't just good in my opinion it was fantastic. OK that said, back to Friendship.
Ask any one of my friends I am a social person. I can talk to anyone anytime and it is IMPOSSIBLE for me to be in an elevator with someone and not say something to them. That said sociability does not necessarily equal a lot of friendships.
I have not maintained contact with a single person from elementary, high school, or college. WOW right. That is not to say I did not have friends during those times. I had a best friend from early in elementary school through high school we were inseparable. I was not in the popular crowd and that was OK with me, or at least that is what I told myself at the time, WE were friends. College led us separate ways and well I know she lives a few towns over but I have no desire to revisit the old days.
College was a mash of various groups of friends, some of who did not get along with each other and in hindsight I often found myself feeling more tense at times than necessary. My first major friendship heartache did not come until my senior year of college when my roommate broke up with her long distance boyfriend and my (male) friend who I had a major crush on and she started dating behind my back. I lived with her and would pour my heart out to her over this guy and they end up dating. They are happily married now with at least one child, and yes I was in their wedding.
After college my friends consisted of the people I went out with, lived with and shared good times with. It wasn't until I was in grad school that I met someone I would call my best friend (since my elementary school friend). Kate and I were inseparable. Both out of college both trying to figure out who the hell we were and both in on again off again relationships that were usually less than stellar. We could spend days doing nothing together. We worked together waitressing and went out late into the night. I still consider her a good friend and I know if I called her at 2AM and said "I need you right now" she would come, her son in tow perhaps but she would come - even though we have not spoken in almost a year - we aren't mad at each other - life, babies, houses, jobs, and everything else just eats up our time. We are at different points in our paths. We will reconnect someday.
Where does all this leave me? It leaves me with the very best friend I have in my husband...but I can't talk girl talk with him. It leaves me with my mom who I am so incredibly happy to have a good friend now that I am grown...but there are still things you can't share there, and it leaves me with a small circle of good friends that I could tally on one hand - people I know I can count on for anything and this is OK with me. Like I said before I know a lot of people, I socialize a lot but I often think that the word friendship is applied too easily sometimes, but categorizing and leveling friendships is an entirely different post for another time.
I believe that real friendships are like reading good books, you hate to but you can stop and pause and go and do something else for awhile, and they will always be there ready to pick up right where you left off without missing a beat.
Come check out other writers on Writer's Island or better yet, come on over and join the island!
So the leader of Writer's Island tosses out "Friendship" as the word of the week. Does he realize that novels, I mean EPIC novels could be written on this topic and that there are at least a dozen different paths I could take with this prompt? First let me say this, ironically enough I too just finished reading "The Kite Runner" this week. I was blown away by it. It wasn't just good in my opinion it was fantastic. OK that said, back to Friendship.
Ask any one of my friends I am a social person. I can talk to anyone anytime and it is IMPOSSIBLE for me to be in an elevator with someone and not say something to them. That said sociability does not necessarily equal a lot of friendships.
I have not maintained contact with a single person from elementary, high school, or college. WOW right. That is not to say I did not have friends during those times. I had a best friend from early in elementary school through high school we were inseparable. I was not in the popular crowd and that was OK with me, or at least that is what I told myself at the time, WE were friends. College led us separate ways and well I know she lives a few towns over but I have no desire to revisit the old days.
College was a mash of various groups of friends, some of who did not get along with each other and in hindsight I often found myself feeling more tense at times than necessary. My first major friendship heartache did not come until my senior year of college when my roommate broke up with her long distance boyfriend and my (male) friend who I had a major crush on and she started dating behind my back. I lived with her and would pour my heart out to her over this guy and they end up dating. They are happily married now with at least one child, and yes I was in their wedding.
After college my friends consisted of the people I went out with, lived with and shared good times with. It wasn't until I was in grad school that I met someone I would call my best friend (since my elementary school friend). Kate and I were inseparable. Both out of college both trying to figure out who the hell we were and both in on again off again relationships that were usually less than stellar. We could spend days doing nothing together. We worked together waitressing and went out late into the night. I still consider her a good friend and I know if I called her at 2AM and said "I need you right now" she would come, her son in tow perhaps but she would come - even though we have not spoken in almost a year - we aren't mad at each other - life, babies, houses, jobs, and everything else just eats up our time. We are at different points in our paths. We will reconnect someday.
Where does all this leave me? It leaves me with the very best friend I have in my husband...but I can't talk girl talk with him. It leaves me with my mom who I am so incredibly happy to have a good friend now that I am grown...but there are still things you can't share there, and it leaves me with a small circle of good friends that I could tally on one hand - people I know I can count on for anything and this is OK with me. Like I said before I know a lot of people, I socialize a lot but I often think that the word friendship is applied too easily sometimes, but categorizing and leveling friendships is an entirely different post for another time.
I believe that real friendships are like reading good books, you hate to but you can stop and pause and go and do something else for awhile, and they will always be there ready to pick up right where you left off without missing a beat.
Come check out other writers on Writer's Island or better yet, come on over and join the island!
Friday, November 9, 2007
Leaving Left and Accepting Right
~ written for Sunday Scribblings 11/9/2007 ~ check it out and come join!
It wasn't the first time in her life that she felt this way. Out of place, out of sorts, as if she was running out of auntenticity and time. She spent her entire life into her thirties trying to fit in, trying to be someone she thought she should be. The problem was the person that she was striving to be was fluid, never defined and therefore never achieveable.
There was no defining moment but at somepoint in the middle of her thirtieth decade she decidid that now would be a good time to start being authentic. To start listening to her heart instead of her silly head that was more concerned with fitting in, being liked and seeming accomplished than with being comfortable in her own skin and satisfying her spirit. Catching up to where others were no longer seemed important, she finally wanted to stop being concerned with if she was left out and instead recognize the happieness she had right where she was.
Don't forget to go check out the other Sunday Scribblers!
It wasn't the first time in her life that she felt this way. Out of place, out of sorts, as if she was running out of auntenticity and time. She spent her entire life into her thirties trying to fit in, trying to be someone she thought she should be. The problem was the person that she was striving to be was fluid, never defined and therefore never achieveable.
There was no defining moment but at somepoint in the middle of her thirtieth decade she decidid that now would be a good time to start being authentic. To start listening to her heart instead of her silly head that was more concerned with fitting in, being liked and seeming accomplished than with being comfortable in her own skin and satisfying her spirit. Catching up to where others were no longer seemed important, she finally wanted to stop being concerned with if she was left out and instead recognize the happieness she had right where she was.
Don't forget to go check out the other Sunday Scribblers!
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Unforgettable
~ written for Writer's Island
There are many amazing things that have happened to me in my life, some remembered readily and thought of often, other remembered only when my memory is jogged by a scent, a comment or a photo.
Recently what has been most unforgettable to me are the smaller things. Maybe one or two of them standing along are not unforgettable, but when collectively the small things keep occurring, they become unforgettable.
What do I mean? I mean the person in your office who you are not really friendly with but who is in on many of your meetings remembering your birthday two years in a row. The neighbor next door who takes out both his and your trash every week. The mailman that is smart enough to carry milk bones instead of mace in his pocket but who is nice enough to feed 5 of them to your dog (after asking of course!). Unforgettable moments and people do not have to be grand or elaborate - although those can be nice as well.
The wise older co-worker who helps guide you through the ins and outs of mortgages, without ever touching on the subject of you financial status. The co-worker who one day becomes a friend and you never realized the transition happened. I could go on and on. You know what I mean.
Treasure the little things in life. Those are the things that we need to remember that we need to cultivate as unforgettable, they are the things that occur day in and day out - not just as a once in a lifetime moment. Both have their place but to find joy every day...find the unforgettable moments in your day.
Come check out other writers on Writer's Island or better yet, come on over and join the island!
* I consider this and most all of work here works in progress. I know there are several areas. All constructive feedback is welcome.
There are many amazing things that have happened to me in my life, some remembered readily and thought of often, other remembered only when my memory is jogged by a scent, a comment or a photo.
Recently what has been most unforgettable to me are the smaller things. Maybe one or two of them standing along are not unforgettable, but when collectively the small things keep occurring, they become unforgettable.
What do I mean? I mean the person in your office who you are not really friendly with but who is in on many of your meetings remembering your birthday two years in a row. The neighbor next door who takes out both his and your trash every week. The mailman that is smart enough to carry milk bones instead of mace in his pocket but who is nice enough to feed 5 of them to your dog (after asking of course!). Unforgettable moments and people do not have to be grand or elaborate - although those can be nice as well.
The wise older co-worker who helps guide you through the ins and outs of mortgages, without ever touching on the subject of you financial status. The co-worker who one day becomes a friend and you never realized the transition happened. I could go on and on. You know what I mean.
Treasure the little things in life. Those are the things that we need to remember that we need to cultivate as unforgettable, they are the things that occur day in and day out - not just as a once in a lifetime moment. Both have their place but to find joy every day...find the unforgettable moments in your day.
Come check out other writers on Writer's Island or better yet, come on over and join the island!
* I consider this and most all of work here works in progress. I know there are several areas. All constructive feedback is welcome.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Writer's Island - "The Problem of Time"
~ written for Writer's Island
Writer's Island, Blog Friday, my personal blog, this writing blog, my current job, my new job, my husband, my dog, my friends, my life, my I-can't-wait-to-start-taking-a-night-class-in writing, the holidays are coming (oh yes they are my dear friends), and keeping in touch with everyone I want to, while balancing my very real need for alone time and creative time and veg out time and seeing my niece time.
So what's the problem. Time. That's it. I don't have enough time. How do people who work full time, and write find the time? A class will help believe it or not because I will have assignments to produce. I am hoping that something I produce in one of the 4 classes I take before I can apply to the Master in Liberal Arts Degree in Creative Writing can be used for my application - we need to submit two pieces. Deadlines and directives help me. Creative writing however is not so geared toward starting with a directive - hence the creative part.
Problem or not I keep doing what I can to write, and I need to revise some of what I have done at some point but for now - it's just keep writing. If I can do that, the problem where I find the time is 1/2 overcome, or at least ignored.
Come check out other writers on Writer's Island or better yet, come on over and join the island!
* I consider this and most all of work here works in progress. I know there are several areas. All constructive feedback is welcome.
Writer's Island, Blog Friday, my personal blog, this writing blog, my current job, my new job, my husband, my dog, my friends, my life, my I-can't-wait-to-start-taking-a-night-class-in writing, the holidays are coming (oh yes they are my dear friends), and keeping in touch with everyone I want to, while balancing my very real need for alone time and creative time and veg out time and seeing my niece time.
So what's the problem. Time. That's it. I don't have enough time. How do people who work full time, and write find the time? A class will help believe it or not because I will have assignments to produce. I am hoping that something I produce in one of the 4 classes I take before I can apply to the Master in Liberal Arts Degree in Creative Writing can be used for my application - we need to submit two pieces. Deadlines and directives help me. Creative writing however is not so geared toward starting with a directive - hence the creative part.
Problem or not I keep doing what I can to write, and I need to revise some of what I have done at some point but for now - it's just keep writing. If I can do that, the problem where I find the time is 1/2 overcome, or at least ignored.
Come check out other writers on Writer's Island or better yet, come on over and join the island!
* I consider this and most all of work here works in progress. I know there are several areas. All constructive feedback is welcome.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Disbelief ~ Homer
~ written for BlogFriday come on over and check it out
Fiction
Before she even woke up Gwen felt the sadness in her chest. She had spent a week preparing for this day and yet as she slowly opened her eyes she felt the overwhelming urge to cry come over her. Homer, being Homer, jumped onto the bed and began pressing his wet nose against her face as he did every morning - getting antsy for his morning walk. She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow and began to sob without restraint. Almost as if understanding something was different, Homer burrowed under the covers next to her, making her sobs come even harder.
After five years of wet noses every morning and long walks before work, today there would be no walk. Homer had terminal cancer before he was barely out of puppyhood. Homer had been a present from her husband Elliot nine months after Gwen found our she was infertile. She was a strong woman but finding out she would never be able to have children tossed her into a depression. Together she and Elliot had talked through it all. The both agreed that they did not want to adopt and that they would find other ways to share their love with children and animals through nieces and nephews and her volunteer work at the animal rescue.
Fiction
Before she even woke up Gwen felt the sadness in her chest. She had spent a week preparing for this day and yet as she slowly opened her eyes she felt the overwhelming urge to cry come over her. Homer, being Homer, jumped onto the bed and began pressing his wet nose against her face as he did every morning - getting antsy for his morning walk. She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow and began to sob without restraint. Almost as if understanding something was different, Homer burrowed under the covers next to her, making her sobs come even harder.
After five years of wet noses every morning and long walks before work, today there would be no walk. Homer had terminal cancer before he was barely out of puppyhood. Homer had been a present from her husband Elliot nine months after Gwen found our she was infertile. She was a strong woman but finding out she would never be able to have children tossed her into a depression. Together she and Elliot had talked through it all. The both agreed that they did not want to adopt and that they would find other ways to share their love with children and animals through nieces and nephews and her volunteer work at the animal rescue.
~
It was a rainy Sunday afternoon that Elliot had brought home this awkward, gangly very wet puppy. As they stumbled in the door, Gwen thought, "I wonder how long this one will be staying with us." As they often took in dogs from the shelter on a temporary basis for various reasons. Elliot let go of the leash and ran back out to the car. He returned with enough dog gear for a year. "What?!? What is going on?" Gwen asked, then she looked up at Elliot and knew this was not just another temporary resident and her heart melted.
~
You'd never know that Homer had a thing wrong with him judging by his behavior this morning, which made getting out of bed and starting the day all that much harder. The vet had assured her that he was not going to get better and that the medication was the driver of his renewed energy but cautioned her that it was only temporary. Only temporary bought her another 2 weeks with Homer but every day was sadder, heavier. Today was the day she would have to say goodbye to her best friend and confidant. To the one creature in the world who had listened to all her grief, even that which she couldn't share with her husband. Where she was going to find the strength to get through today she did not know. But it had to start with a cup of coffee and a shower.
Driving to the vet's office she had to pull over twice from nausea and she even threw up once from the disbelief of the reality of her day today. She had not felt this lousy since the days following the news that she was infertile. She had felt like this ever since she had gotten the news that Homer's time was limited. Pulling herself together she walked into the vet's office and immediately started to cry. Everyone was very compassionate and she was walking out the door, tissues in hand an hour later when she passed out.
Waking up in the emergency room with the vet assistant by her side, the sadness overwhelmed her again before she even wondered why she was at the hospital. A few moments later her husband walked in and rushed to her side, "I am so sorry I didn't go with you this morning, you kept telling me it was something you wanted to do on your own and I shouldn't have listened, this whole ordeal with the dog has taken it's toll on you and I am sorry, he said".
"I am sorry to hear about Homer" the doctor said entering the room, "but that is not the reason you passed out." Puzzled and immediately scared for her own health she looked at her husband and grabbed his hands as she waited for the doctors next words.
I see that your record indicates that you are infertile. "Yes, yes" Gwen said. I have been for about 6 years. Well then this might come as a surprise but, "You're pregnant, with twins." Gwen almost threw up for the second time that day from disbelief. Her husband had to sit down. Six years ago Gwen was told she was infertile and could not not have children. She had been told this with "100% certainty" although thinking back she never was really told why, or maybe she had been and just did not remember through her depression. She had stopped taking the pill and had a healthy sex life with her husband. No babies for 6 years...she was infertile. But wait, now here was this man telling her she was pregnant with twins, and showing her an ultrasound that showed her two, twelve week old images of what were to be her boys.
"Everything looks fine the doctor said, but I suggest you get some rest, you at least 18 busy years ahead of you..." As the doctor walked out of the door and her husband went to bring the car around she sat in the dimly lit room and couldn't help but wonder what to believe about the power of death and life and the intertwined relationship that existed. On a day that one of the saddest things happened with Homer's passing, she couldn't help but wonder about the wonder in the world. She sat sitting in utter disbelief at the day and wondered how she might get away with naming one of the twin boys Homer.
(c)Michelle S. 2007.
All Rights Reserved
**I consider this and most all of work here works in progress. All constructive feedback is welcome.
Driving to the vet's office she had to pull over twice from nausea and she even threw up once from the disbelief of the reality of her day today. She had not felt this lousy since the days following the news that she was infertile. She had felt like this ever since she had gotten the news that Homer's time was limited. Pulling herself together she walked into the vet's office and immediately started to cry. Everyone was very compassionate and she was walking out the door, tissues in hand an hour later when she passed out.
Waking up in the emergency room with the vet assistant by her side, the sadness overwhelmed her again before she even wondered why she was at the hospital. A few moments later her husband walked in and rushed to her side, "I am so sorry I didn't go with you this morning, you kept telling me it was something you wanted to do on your own and I shouldn't have listened, this whole ordeal with the dog has taken it's toll on you and I am sorry, he said".
"I am sorry to hear about Homer" the doctor said entering the room, "but that is not the reason you passed out." Puzzled and immediately scared for her own health she looked at her husband and grabbed his hands as she waited for the doctors next words.
I see that your record indicates that you are infertile. "Yes, yes" Gwen said. I have been for about 6 years. Well then this might come as a surprise but, "You're pregnant, with twins." Gwen almost threw up for the second time that day from disbelief. Her husband had to sit down. Six years ago Gwen was told she was infertile and could not not have children. She had been told this with "100% certainty" although thinking back she never was really told why, or maybe she had been and just did not remember through her depression. She had stopped taking the pill and had a healthy sex life with her husband. No babies for 6 years...she was infertile. But wait, now here was this man telling her she was pregnant with twins, and showing her an ultrasound that showed her two, twelve week old images of what were to be her boys.
"Everything looks fine the doctor said, but I suggest you get some rest, you at least 18 busy years ahead of you..." As the doctor walked out of the door and her husband went to bring the car around she sat in the dimly lit room and couldn't help but wonder what to believe about the power of death and life and the intertwined relationship that existed. On a day that one of the saddest things happened with Homer's passing, she couldn't help but wonder about the wonder in the world. She sat sitting in utter disbelief at the day and wondered how she might get away with naming one of the twin boys Homer.
(c)Michelle S. 2007.
All Rights Reserved
**I consider this and most all of work here works in progress. All constructive feedback is welcome.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Writer's Island - Message in a Bottle
~ poetry
~ written for Writer's Island
Message in a bottle, take me away;
Float me to an island and another day.
A day where I can find sunshine and ocean sounds;
A day where I don't have to make 100 technology rounds.
Peace, and slowness I seek to survive;
All of this frenzy, it's a wonder I am alive.
Message in a bottle take me where you might.
Follow the ocean's waves let our destination take flight.
I am open to change whatever it may be.
It's from the rigors of life that I wish to be free.
Free to explore what possibilities might be there
Message in a bottle please take me anywhere.
I will follow you blindly, safe inside your core
Message in a bottle please offer me something more.
(c)Michelle S. 2007.
All Rights Reserved ~
Come check out other writers on Writer's Island or better yet, come on over and join the island!
* I consider this and most all of work here works in progress. I know there are several areas. All constructive feedback is welcome.
~ written for Writer's Island
Message in a bottle, take me away;
Float me to an island and another day.
A day where I can find sunshine and ocean sounds;
A day where I don't have to make 100 technology rounds.
Peace, and slowness I seek to survive;
All of this frenzy, it's a wonder I am alive.
Message in a bottle take me where you might.
Follow the ocean's waves let our destination take flight.
I am open to change whatever it may be.
It's from the rigors of life that I wish to be free.
Free to explore what possibilities might be there
Message in a bottle please take me anywhere.
I will follow you blindly, safe inside your core
Message in a bottle please offer me something more.
(c)Michelle S. 2007.
All Rights Reserved ~
Come check out other writers on Writer's Island or better yet, come on over and join the island!
* I consider this and most all of work here works in progress. I know there are several areas. All constructive feedback is welcome.
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