2021-06-03 Coming to a Few Conclusions

I’ve tried a few times so far this week to write something. It’s just not there, you know, and I’m not inclined to fight it. 

The rest of our KC road trip came and went and I began to write about that, but got distracted by life and stuff needing attention. 

I’ve wanted to write about my former father-in-law and how I felt a dull ache in my heart for days and angst over whether or not I should go to the funeral. I gave blood last week and began crying on the “table” during the donation and had to wave off the concerned Red Cross staff, letting them know it was something else entirely and I was fine.

The funeral is today and I’m going. I asked a few people if I should or not and wasn’t satisfied with any of the answers I received. Not because they didn’t make logical sense or because they were contrary to what I actually wanted, but because I was looking for someone else to tell me what to do and I suppose in the end I didn’t really want advice. I wanted to want advice, if that makes sense, but in my heart I already knew what I wanted, which was to go and grieve for myself and support my children. Isn’t that what funerals are for? 

Like much of life, it can be whatever you want, you just need to figure out what you want. The lucky among us figure that out with enough time left to actually act on our wants and desires. 

My mom is going to the funeral with me. I asked her yesterday and at the risk of sounding shady and cold, she owes me. A person should not have to go to a funeral alone. In my life I’ve often felt that it was better to face grief in a solitary fashion—work out me feelings for myself, but I’ve learned over the years that this is backward thinking. I’m not too proud to admit I was wrong. People need people. 

I won’t get to sit with my children, of course, as they will be with their dad up front. I just hope they don’t make my son cut his hair for this. I have a feeling his dad might. 

Sometimes waiting for a funeral is like holding your breath and I’m really looking forward to it being over so I can exhale. 

I’d like to write more about all of this, but the words are just not there. Such is life. 

Peace and love, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-05-27 The Elephant in my Heart

After a time.. feel as though my hiding from the world at large is exhausting.

Maybe I’m just exhausted from lack of sleep. No matter how productive I am, it’s not productive enough. 

Still..  was looking forward to today when I woke up. Despite the dishes piling up, clumps in the litter box piling up, and mail requiring attention piling up, I’m still looking forward. The biggest question now is if I’m writing that because I want it to be true or if it’s actually true. 

My friend T texted she won’t be at the exercise class today, the one I vowed a few weeks ago I was quitting but too chicken-shit to tell her so I ponied up 50 more bucks for 5 more classes. 10 bucks a class is outrageous. The only way I can get my monies worth is to get the unlimited package and then go to like a gazillion classes. 

I need to grow a spine and just tell her. She probably already thinks I’m a complete flake, backing out of class after class. Then yesterday I went and lifted too heavy on biceps and hurt my arm. I’m going to start lifting with my husband instead. We have all this damn equipment at home I never use .. I just need another person to feel motivated to exercise (outside this treadmill walking). 

Why is that? 

I just need to tell T I want to hang out with her outside of a class, just you know, coffee or the zoo with her kids, or just sitting at one of our houses. 

Right now I’m avoiding the elephant in the room of my heart—the passing of my former father in law, my kids’ grandpa. He was a father figure to me for 18 years of my life and a genuinely wonderful person. I had a better relationship with him and his wife than my own parents who never paid any attention to me. His parents cared and they showed it.

And on it went like that through the duration of my 18 year marriage until the day I ended things with my ex husband and became enemy #1 in the eyes of my mother in law. I had to sacrifice my relationships with most members of his family for that decision, including the one I had developed with Larry. Sad that it had to be like that.

Just because I haven’t talked to them in years doesn’t mean I don’t feel grief. I do. I am hurting. I’m feeling it for myself, my ex-husband, my children, for the whole family. Funny the way it is when someone dies and you just don’t know what to say. I just don’t know what to say.

The kids are pretty closed up at this point, their first (close) grandparent to pass and just internalizing their own pain. They don’t want to talk about it and we’re all holding our breath in a vacuum waiting for news about services. The longer we have to wait, the more likely it willl be this weekend, which is in conflict with my daughters first planned road trip with a friend. She’s had so many disappointments from plans being derailed in the last few years, it’s disheartening.

I’m a little closed too, kind of feeling I have no one to talk to about how I feel about him or his dying. We all knew it was imminent, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I think most people would think I have no right to be upset, because it’s been so long but people feel how they feel. That is part of what makes us human.

For me this creates a bit of a conundrum about whether or not I should go to the funeral. If I had my way I would but Jim thinks I should not. I feel like it’s the respectful thing to do but he thinks it would not be right. It’s one of those situations where I don’t trust my own judgement and seeking counsel from others. Ultimately the decision is mine but I just want someone else to tell me what to do. But the fact that I’m resisting Jim’s advice is telling.

It has been 10+ years since I had interaction with the family. But I want to be there for myself and my kids. But they have their dad. But their dad might want me there. But he might not. My head goes back and forth and the worst part of my indecision is thinking if I go for myself that it will be selfish or self-serving like my mom saying she wanted to go to my step-moms funeral last year “for her kids” (all grown and not needing her and frankly not wanting to be there themselves). 

Still, maybe I need some sort of resolution for myself and I shouldn’t be so concerned what other people think. But I do care and their feelings matter. I just don’t know. 

If we were still in the middle of COVID, that would be a big reason not to go. But we’ve all been vaccinated now. I just don’t know. 

I’m not really feeling motivated to continue walking (or thinking about this) right now. I have so much to do today. Too much.

Deep sighs,

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-05-09 A Very Shrug-Worthy Sunday

All I want for Mother’s Day is to spend the day with my kids. I was going to add not doing dishes but I don’t even care about that. I just want to have a chill day with my people. I’ve texted my son who is at his dad’s house but he probably won’t be awake for a few more hours. 

My daughter will also not be up for a while either which means I’m flying solo for at least a little while. Plenty of time to get my cardio and think (and write). I’m walking now but not feeling super motivated to jog, which is the only activity I’ve found that reliably gets my heart rate up enough to count (according to my FitBit) for the cardio zone. Above 125 bpm. 

It’s an overcast Sunday holding the promise of rain. A perfect day for being lazy and relaxing. The only tasks I have committed to are checking in on my friend Michelle’s cat, Stormy, and potentially going to Nebraska furniture mart to pick out a new desk for my daughter. 

We bought one in January and it’s been delayed 3 months past the original arrival date and that’s pretty ridiculous, even with the pandemic, so we’re starting again at square 1.

I’ve got some personal writing “stuff” to attend to. Lately I’ve been opting to work on my lit mag instead and I need to balance that out. Today could be a good day for that too. 

Anyhow, I’ve got options. If only I could find the motivation to kick into gear to get started with something. See how I’m just waffling on what this day could be? I’m all over the place. 

 I guess some days are like that. 

It’s been 20 minutes on the treadmill and I’ve still not got a lit that’s inspiring me. Some days are like that too and I’m not going to fight it. 

Until next time, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-05-07 On This Day in History… 🤱

Seventeen years ago, at this very moment, I was gettin busy pushing a baby out my vagina. That’s pretty freaking amazing right? That I can grow a human being inside my body and then birth it into the world in a matter of hours. 

More amazing than that is the mystical act of parenting. That a tiny, helpless being would be completely dependent on me in order to survive and thrive. And eventually get to the state of life where he could refuse to have his hair cut, develop an affinity for grape gatorade, and be sensitive and secure enough at 17 to hug his mama in front of his schoolmates. Yup.. pretty incredible indeed. 

He’s always hated having his hair cut. It wasn’t until very recently that, as a parent, I let go of pushing my own agenda for his hair. I let go and it was a beautiful thing. He’s not quite at man-bun stage yet, but well on his way. We’re now actively encouraging him to grow his hair out and get through the current awkward phase where it’s long enough to be in his eyes but not long enough to tie back. 

At first he thought we were trying to use reverse psychology on him but now we’ve reached the understanding that we’re all super stoked about it. His sister included, which I think seems to help. 

And contrary to his sister who was in line at the dmv at midnight when she turned 16 waiting to get her drivers license, he’s a year past that now and still has no interest in driving. His dad thinks he’s lazy and I dunno… I think he just has it all figured out. 

It’s not a bad thing to be chauffeured around everywhere and not be responsible for running errands for your parents. I was like that at his age. I never wanted to drive either and the sacrifice of being dependent on other people never bothered me that much. 

That’s why when his dad called me last week, in a fit, because C was refusing to drive, I just shrugged it. It will happen (his learning and getting his license) and I’m not worried. I just listened and said that I’d support helping him learn by driving with him when school is out. 

Also.. His dad having his panties in a bunch over it is delightful to me. That’s wrong, I know, but I don’t care. 😜

I’m actively working to slow down time, engaging in practices to allow the world around me to move at a pace that’s more amiable to my own. I don’t mind if it takes him the whole summer to learn and have drivers Ed. I don’t mind one bit. 

I’m sad to not get to spend any time with my super C today. He’s off school and hasn’t even responded to my text yet. I’ll wait a little bit and call. I’ll get my QT with him this weekend or next week. It’s a good thing that he gets to spend time with his paternal peeps today anyhow. 

Today is Friday and if I recall correctly he was born on a Friday too. Lemme check…. (Hold please)….

Yes! It was indeed a Friday. Thanks Google! 

That’s what made the timing so perfect for bringing him home from the hospital, We were able to do that on Sunday which just happened to be Mother’s Day. The same as it this week. 

Jim is off today and we’re just hanging out—cardio together, running a few errands for his son’s birthday, and probably yard work later. His sons 17th birthday is today too. How wild is that. 

At the same time I was pushing a baby out my va-j-j, my future husband’s first wife was having her belly cut into to extract their son. No disrespect to any woman who has had to have a C-section, but I’m glad to have done it the natural way. Even if they had to pull that baby-suction device out of the closet of the labor and delivery room to pull him out. Crazy times! 

Anyhow… that’s probably it today. Not a lot else going on. 

Three Cheers for Successfuly Slowing the Passage of Time, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-03-26 The light at the end of the tunnel…

My mom is being discharged from the hospital today. Who gets to deal with getting her home, grocery shopping, fetching a walker, and staying with her at her home to make sure she’s ok and not at risk for falling down or ripping her stitches, ostomy, or drain tubes? 

That would be yours truly. 

She’s been in the hospital for two weeks which means I’ve been to the hospital every day for two weeks. It’s just draining. 

Jim asked me this morning if it felt good to know she’s getting out today. I’m not feeling good. I’m feeling like this is “out of the frying pan and into the fire.” 

Now.. instead of having an entire care team handling her every need and want, it’s up to my siblings and I. And I get the first shift. I pushed for this to happen today because I selfishly need her settled in at home today so that by tomorrow at about 3, I can cut and run away. I’ve had special Friday plans for this Friday night for a while. 

I’m really hoping that by this time tomorrow, we’re getting ready to switch shifts and my sister is embracing the tasks at hand. 

After all, I’ve had two weeks head start seeing moms pain and struggles and a week to get used to the reality of drainage tubes and wound care and an ostomy bag. I’m squeamish for sure but am convinced that anyone can get used to anything if they don’t have other options. 

Of course I still have that nagging voice in the back of my head about all this. The one that’s irritated because the responsibility falls on me (or a few of us). It’s selfish thinking but the Universe be damned, I never got this much care from my mother ever. 

It’s selfish thinking but she wouldn’t do all this for me if the situation were reversed. She said that. She knows it. She talked yesterday about her relationship with her mom and they weren’t close. She was just her mom and nothing more. Oh yeah, that’s familiar. So let’s just blame grandma while we’re at it for all the ways I was neglected. Because my mom was never taught any different. 

I’d buy that more if people were incapable of growing or changing outside of what they were taught at 10 years old. I’m not buying it because I, myself was able to break out of that “arms length” parenting mentality and have great relationships with my kids. We’re open and honest and I make sure all the time they feel loved and supported and like they are my priority. 

The way I feel about my mom is selfish and I know I can still grow and change beyond it, but the past will never change and I’ll always harbor resentment about being the “easiest” kid. I’ll always have that nagging voice that reminds me that my mom will never change so why should I?! 

It would all be easier if I knew there was a light at the end of this tunnel. But the only light at the end of the tunnel is the one that will eventually come for us all, and take us away to alternate plains of existence. The one that will supposedly judge us for our choices or admit us to a better or worse place. I don’t believe in any of that, but the light seems like the best way to describe the force that will greet us when our physical bodies give out. 

My mom has stage 3C ovarian cancer and the prognosis isn’t stellar, to say the least. She’s up against who knows how many rounds of chemo and multiple future surgeries. She wants to fight right now but if this first course of treatment and surgery doesn’t “fix her right up“ then she’ll prolly call it quits.

I don’t have extraordinary knowledge. I don’t have a crystal ball. Sometimes, I don’t even have a desire to know more than I know right now. Today.

And what I know right now, today Is that I have to get on with doing all the things and all the stuff. Or it won’t all get done before duty calls.

With peace and love and hopefully cheeseburgers and vodka lemonade… or

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-03-14 Designated Daughter

The saying “Hurry up and wait” is often attributed to the military but I think is also quite appropriate for the hospitals and medical care. Nothing like waiting around all day for something to happen or change and being disappointed because nothing happens. And why is it that the waiting and nothing is also somehow exhausting? It makes no sense. 

My mom has a tube up her nose and down her throat and she was sure that when the doc (finally) came in yesterday in the late afternoon she was going to get them to take it out. Of course the opposite happened. He basically told her it was a slow process and would take upwards of 72 more hours to see real progress to help her predicament. 

Her predicament becoming more complicated every damn day. Her predicament being cancerous tumors lining her abdomen, a partial bowel obstruction, and now a large amount of fluid building up around her lower abdomen. 

The doc showed us a comparison of the cat scans last night, and the changes that have developed in just a few short days. Of course the build up of fluid is going to make her obstruction more difficult to resolve. I have to imagine all that pressure is making it worse. 

I’ve had limited exposure to medical complications in my life. I’ve never witnessed some of this. And let me tell you it’s pretty gross to think about a tube sucking the contents of your GI track out through the nose. It’s disgusting and smells horrible, but it’s the most non-invasive way to clear a person out (when the opposite end is not working). 

I think they are going to try to drain some fluid out of her today. It’s strange for me to say I will know more when my husband wakes up. He knows the surgical oncologist that’s in charge of my mom’s care at the Med Center. From Med school I think or maybe early in their respective careers. They talked on the phone last night but it was too close to the time I was just out of it. 

Out of it meaning that my unexplained exhaustion plus having a big meal when I arrived home (with a glass of wine), had lulled me into a sleepy state around 9:30pm. They talked as I was taking my tired brain to bed. If Jim gave me an update after that call, I don’t remember it. Right now I wish I did. I wish I knew what last night’s CT showed and what the plan for today is. 

It’s still pretty early and I’m dreading going back to the hospital. I was awake at 4:30ish and up by 6am. My mom texted before 7 and I’m currently on the treadmill (of course). 

*** 

I think my mom has a high pain threshold but very low tolerance for extended discomfort. When my grandma (her mom) passed away she pretty much said she didn’t want to “go out like that.” Withering away in a hospital bed, losing control of physical capabilities and her marbles. I get it, but what else can you do? 

After the consult yesterday and seeing the CT on the screen, she became convinced that this was it. It was just enough evidence to solidify the fact that treating all of her issues was not only going to continue to be unpleasant (to say the least) but it was also not going to end anytime soon. 

Even if the obstruction is resolved in the next 5 days (with or without surgical intervention), she’ll be facing 6 months of chemo and eventual surgery in her abdomen. After the doctor left the room she pretty much told me she was done. Like “done done” and ready to check out of this life. What the Universe am I supposed to do with that? 

And why me? 

When my grandma passed, my mom made me promise that when the time came, I would help her out. But this is different. She’s otherwise healthy and enjoys life. She has a lot of friends and enjoys her book club and her dog and bird and going on trips. She can still do all that stuff when she gets better but she doesn’t see it that way.

She said she’s satisfied with the life she’s lived and has made peace with herself about all the bad things she’s done in her life. She’s also recently found a new belief in God. This was news to me. She’s been an atheist for as long as I can remember. 

It’s really challenging to talk a person through treatments and expectations when they don’t want any of it. So now I’m not just the designated visitor.. I’m the one responsible for convincing her it’s worth it to go through all this shit so she can feel better and keep living her life. 

I mean, I know what I promised her years ago but that was all hypothetical. What am I supposed to do? 

Again I ask.. why me? 

We’ve never been close. She’s so much closer to her youngest daughter and their mother/daughter experience was much better and more supportive than ours ever was. 

Growing up my mom was always so preoccupied with the other parts of her life and never had time for me. I was a very lonely kid. My parents were divorced and I lived with my mom but my primary role was babysitter. I had two younger sisters—8 and 16 years younger than me. I was an “easy” kid who was quiet and got good grades so easily never the priority. It sounds terrible but I feel like I never had the love and help and support I craved.

I left home at 18.. or rather I was kicked out because my mom chose to side with her husband in an ongoing conflict between him and I.

I moved in with my dad but that didn’t last long as I got married and escaped my situation completely when I was 19.

After I left home, I never looked back. And never had support from either of my parents in anything I went through as an adult. Yes, they showed up to celebrate holidays and birthdays but that’s about it. 

So why is it that I’m now in charge of both of them? 

I clearly have a chip on my shoulder. Good gravy!! 🙄

Jim says I have to be the person because I’m a good person and it’s the right thing to do. So after a lifetime of my parents doing the wrong things I have to suck it up and do the right things??!! 

Whatever. 

It’s now 8am and I’ve got 10K steps and should probably just quit lamenting.

Peace out, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-03-05 Prepping for a Celebratory Weekend 🎁🎉🎂🎉❤️

It was a good run.. a 33 day streak of posting to this blog. And the day before yesterday I was gonna lose my step streak and declared “no way in hell I’m losing my blogging streak.” Guess I forgot to knock on some wood and the Universe said “that’s ehat you think.”

What DID I do all day yesterday? I really don’t know. And it really doesn’t matter. Whatever. I guess all I can do is say “today is a good day to start again.” So here I am. 

I booked myself for two exercise classes today and then one of my new aquatintences from class is coming over for tea. I’m also scrambling to prepare for my darling daughters bday which is Sunday. She’ll be 19. 😱 No way!! 

Yes way. 

Tonight is the night we’re going out to dinner and then Sunday on her actual birthday we’ve booked an escape room. It’s kind of a birthday tradition for her to gather her closest friends to do these puzzle rooms. Last year we could not because the COVID was emerging as a real problem (and not just some ailment affecting “other” countries) and Jim said it was not a good idea. 

That would be the first of a long string of events my daughter would sacrifice to the pandemic. It took her senior “lock in,” senior prom, graduation, graduation celebration, the trip and concert we had planned in the summer, and many experiences she should have had as a freshman in college. 

Needless to say.. the pandemic has been a greedy bastard and she deserves some fun and happiness. 50% of our planned escapee party has been vaccinated and the other half are teenagers. I might be trying hard to justify this little excursion and make myself feel better about it but truly my son goes to school every damn day with hundreds of other teenagers wearing masks and has been since last August so as long as we mask up, I think it’s going to be ok. 

Despite all the disappointment this past year, my darling daughter is doing good. She’s working part time and going to school remotely/virtually this semester, living at home. She made the deans list in her first term and has now been officially accepted into her chosen program/major which is a BFA in Emerging Media Arts. I’m extremely proud of her and know that because of her passion and dedication (and stubbornness) she’ll be successful whatever she decides to do with her life. 

If I sound like a proud mama, it’s because I am! And I just want to celebrate her and so I’m going to make this weekend as special as I can. It starts with dinner out tonight. 

As for the rest of my day today.. lots to do. Never an end to the things that need doing. No rest for the wicked. It starts now. 

Hopefully this post will be the first of many in a row, but there’s really no way to predict what kind of wrench the Universe will throw next.

Happy Friday Ya’ll,

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-02-21 Sunday Status Funny Money 🐹

It’s Sunday and I’m checking my stats. How did I do meeting my goals? 

For sleep I achieved my goal 6 of 7 nights. 

Healthy eating.. 4 of 7. 

Mood.. 4 of 7.

Meditation.. 2 of 7. 

Exercise.. 6 of 7. 

Most of this looks good but feels a bit like funny money. Like you know how you get paid every two weeks for doing a job and the money is electronically deposited in your bank account and then some other company comes along and takes that coin back out for things like rent, electricity, insurance. It’s like a magic trick. One minute the numbers are there and the next.. Poof.. gone.. It happens automagically. You never actually see the cash, hold it, count it. That’s funny money.

Kinda makes a person feel like a hamster in a wheel. You know, in that metaphor what gives the hamster quality of life? Stopping to eat. Stopping to wee (or woo). And getting pulled out of the cage by the giant 6 year old who lets her run around the bedroom floor for a while. Perhaps getting a lettuce or carrot on these tiny adventures and of course weeing and wooing on the purple rug is the BEST! 

What does this metaphor teach us about life? That we need to maximize our time off the wheel. Cuz pretty soon now, that tiny little pumping heart can’t take anymore and the hamster dies. Poof!.. Just like that. 

I check my stats regularly. I set goals for my self. I’m constantly evaluating myself and my health. I gave up my old hamster wheel last year but I’m still on this one.

My New Years résolution this year was to do less instead of more. To be kind to myself and more forgiving. To meet that end, I backed off on my daily goals. But here we are nearing the end of February and I’m questioning the validity of all this. Like money in the bank, it all becomes numbers and checkmarks on a page. I add them up but they don’t amount to much.

So I backed off on my sleep goal and the result this week is a 6 of 7 instead of 4 of 7. So what? I still feel the same. I still have the same energy issues each day. I don’t get more restful sleep just because I back off on my goal. It just makes me feel better about how I’m doing. But it’s a magic trick. An illusion. 

It’s the same with the other stats. I have my daily step goal, which I reduced from 12k to 10k as a part of my resolution. So today’s calculated 6 of 7 would have been 4 of 7 instead. So what. It doesn’t change anything. And the other measurements are just as suspect. 

I took away “productivity” and replaced it with “mood” and I added one for meditation. Mood is subjective as there are no numbers and this feels more legit. Of all the stats I’m tracking, it feels the most genuine and important. I think that’s because that’s the real goal. To FEEL better. To FEEL healthier. To FEEL like I’m getting the most out of every day. 

Tangentially related is the brain child idea I had this week about inviting 2006 to 2021 and living life for a week the same way I was back then.

No smart phone. No social media. No googling everything or relying on the internet so much. It crossed my mind that 2006 was pre-FitBit too and before I tracked my stats so vigorously. 

It also predates any regular daily writing so my mind is really foggy with how life really was. It might be an interesting exercise to try and mentally recreate a day in the life of Miss SugarCookie in 2006. The first step of course is removing all those things I just mentioned. 

This means (if I go through with it) that I’ll not be keeping stats for as long as the experiment persists. And won’t be mentally tethered to my phone.

Tangentialy related is also the argument I had with my darling daughter last night because I did not have my phone with me when she texted the specifics of what she wanted to eat. I cooked the wrong thing and she refused to eat it and it was so ridiculous. I got so so so angry that she was acting spoiled and ungrateful and she just didn’t get it. Jim said I just needed to make the other thing and remember that she’s sick (one day post vaccine shot and running a fever and in bed all day). So I did. And she didn’t even thank me. Whatever. 

My point is that the people that will be the most affected by this little experiment of mine are those who “expect” things from me or are used to communicating via text. Nobody on FB will miss me because I’m not really on FB anyway. Same for twitter. And since I don’t have a 9 to 5 anymore, there’s nobody who is going to miss me not getting back to them ASAP there.

So today is my day of preparation. Thinking about what it is really going to look like when I pull the trigger on this test. Rolling back to 2006.

Why 2006?

I had to draw a line somewhere, you know, and thinking about what things add value to my life, like that hamster with their brief breaks from the wheel. Eating adds value and so does sleep. It is not a basic need in the pure sense of the word but music is pretty much essential for my daily existence.

If I’m giving up my phone for a week, then I need some other way to get my tunes. I don’t have a working CD player so my original iPod will have to do. I actually looked up the model number and it’s circa 2006. So that’s why. 

No Bluetooth of course so I’ll have to find a wired set of headphones or earbuds. I know I have some somewhere, just have to find them. That part will be easy compared to making my people understand that if they want something from me, they need to ask me in person. How novel. People living in the same house sitting down face to face. 

I think my treadmill time today is past being up. I’m secretly hoping people stay asleep a while longer so I can get more time to myself. We’ll see. 

Next stop.. 2006 and scrapping the stats!

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-02-20 Why I’m Doubling Down Today

Yesterday, just as I was developing the inspiration to write about all the sexcapaids I’ve had in my life, life interjected and shut that down. 

Here’s how the conversation went (paraphrasing of course)…

Life:  “Here.. read this and get angry” (hands me an email).

Me: 😬😬😬 (deep breath). “No! Not today life. I’m not letting this shit get to me today. I’ve got other plans.” 

Life: “Ok then. Let’s just see about that.” 

Me: “I’m gonna write a poem instead.” 

Life: “Haha. That’s funny.” 

Me: “Whatever. Give me my trigger.” 

Life: (snickers) “Sure thing boss. Today’s topic is sex. Ha!!” 

(Life knows I’d rather poke my own eyes out than write a poem about sex.)

Me: “Challenge accepted!” I start to write about the sex poem but didn’t get very far before Life looked down at his wrist and tapped his watch. 

Life: “Times up. You’ve got to go.” 

Me: “Fuck. I was just getting started. No matter, I’ll finish later.” 

Life: “Fat chance.” 

Me: “Shut up. It’s Friday and I have all damn day.” 

Life: “That’s what you think.” 

Me: “Whatever Life. Go suck it.” 

Then I hurried out the door and drove to CB to visit my dad. Stopped at Little King to pick us up some sandwiches. While at my dad’s, we sat at the kitchen table, ate, and I listened to a few new stories. Turns out, by random chance my dad enrolled in college one week before receiving his draft notice, narrowly escaping being thrown into the war. His life could have gone very differently and if it had, I would not be here writing this. I digress. 

After that visit, I hurried home continuing to think on the topic of the day. At red lights I would open my phone and read where I left off and tried to think of what would be next. I had soooooo many thoughts. So many directions I could take the topic. But then the light would turn green and I had to go again. 

Arriving home it was immediately time to leave again. This time to take my darling daughter to get her second moderna shot. She missed her appointment in Iowa on Saturday because she was sick and so the only opportunity was this “open clinic” set up at a church here in Omaha for people needing the second shot. Open meaning no appointments. Open meaning a line of hundreds of people through the church, out the door, and down the block. And a cluster of parking a situation. 

She begged me to wait with her and of course I did. Did I mention this line was outside??!! Did I mention I hadn’t changed from my morning walk or that I wasn’t wearing a coat?! Did I mention it was only 20 degrees outside??! I must really love my daughter to freeze my ass off for 1.5 hours outside and 1 hour inside that church waiting with her. 

Every time she took her phone out to look at something I thought maybe I could write standing in line. I took my phone out of my pocket and then she’d look at me and ask “what are you doing? Talk to me.” Ok, fine. 

Three grueling and freezing hours later, we were done and headed to pick up my son. Arriving home (after securing some drive through dinner for them) I was frustrated and just wanted to sink into the couch. But not without some food and drink of my own. 

Enter stage left, R-Taco and homemade margs. One margarita, two margaritas, three and done. 

Somewhere in there I had the wherewithal to post all I had written in the morning… which was not much. 

As I pushed the “publish” button I heard a maniacal laugh and looked over my shoulder at Life. 

Life: “Told you so.”

Me: “Fine. You win….Today. But I’m doubling down on tomorrow.”

Life: (With a big smile) “Perfect!”

***

Doubling down for real! Life will NOT best me two days in a row. Nope!!

Today is the second day in a row I’ve spent time inside a church. Today I went to Saint Vincent de Paul Catholic Church. Cuz…. If at first you don’t succeed try, try again. I’m talking about donating blood.

Today’s donation was a success as my hemoglobin came through at 13.0 (second finger stick as the first was 12.3 .. booo). I haven’t donated for over a year and it feels good to be able to do it again. Next one will be in April. Guess what else is in April? My next vacation.

I’m in charge of planning this time and it’s gonna be amazing. Don’t know where yet but that don’t matter. Wherever we go will be famous!!

Where was I going with this again? 

Oh yeah, doubling down on the day. It’s now past 5pm and I don’t even have a topic and I’ve wasted all my time writing about what happened yesterday. 

I went to a virtual workshop this morning which was all about sonnets and at the point where we had to free write is where I got stuck. None of the starters that were offered triggered anything in my brain and I ended up writing a few lines about Princess Diana and a quote of hers I heard once about chasing chicken around a plate. 

So rando, I know, but that’s how the brain works sometimes. Alas I could not produce any good lines from that, let alone an entire Sonnet so I’m still at square zero. 

Still. The day isn’t over yet. 

Life: (Tapping his watch again) “Clock is ticking.” 

That guy is really starting to get on my nerves. 

Later gaters, 🐊

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-02-19 The One that Wanted to be About Sex but Couldn’t Make it Past First Base…

I looked into the salty air thinking about my irritation over an email I just read and said to myself “it’s time to get serious.” 

Then I looked at myself in the mirror from the treadmill and said “NO!” I actually pointed at myself as I said, “NO! NOT THIS TIME.” I’m not going to let it get to me. 

No. It’s high time I take things less seriously. I’m not joking around about this. I’m…. wait for it…. 

Dead serious! 😜

Life keeps trying to drag me down with greedy little tentacles. Green tendrils with those innocent looking suckers that you pay no mind to until they adhere to the thin layers of your epidermis, and you realize they’ve no intention of letting go. 

No. Not this time! 

I’m digging through my pockets to pull out all my weapons. The claws are coming out now, and with them the sword I’ve been sharpening for a while now. This day and it’s down smash is no match to that of my Princess Peach. 

Where’s my crown? Somebody hand me my crown! 

I’ll not be a victim of your bullshit patriarchy or any preconceived notions about the definition of the word success. Your archaic constructions can’t touch me today. 

I’ve got my kickass gear shifter playlist fueling my adrenaline and my hair looks amazing today. I’ve got knives up all 8 of my sleeves and under the skirt of my ball gown too. I’ve been practicing my moves and if you try to touch my mood I will cut you! 

Ok. Now that that’s settled. Let’s get down to business. One of two ways for this to go from here. It’s either “Freak Flag Friday” or “First Draft a Friday.” 

Really torn about this and gonna make a quick trip to Paris to see if that tips the scales…. BRB

***

In Paris today I found “The Sisters of Sexual Treasure” by Sharon Olds. So that’s how it’s gonna be?! I’m not so inspired by this somewhat erotic poem that’s got a bit of a Freudian flip. I mean.. I could easily springboard off this 21 line expertly crafted piece of writing and compose my own revealing paragraph about how my experience leaving my mothers house at 18 (sans sisters) was the polar opposite of hers, but I don’t feel inclined to. 

I’m not keen writing about how I never learned anything about sex from my mother except what her orgasms sound like through the wall of the tiny house we lived in when I was a senior in high school. 

To this day I wonder if she was faking it. To this day I’m quite disturbed to have this memory and have oft blamed it for the sexual dysfunction I’ve suffered for so many years of my life. 

Now I’m a parent with a teenage son and daughter. I wonder if it’s fair to blame anything squarely and/or solely   on a parent. Still, in this case I think it is. 

I dare say I could write more about all of this but I don’t want to. Why Ms. Olds was compelled to write, let alone send her poem to the Paris Review to be published escapes me. I have to reason that she was comfortable in her own skin and that no topic was off limits. Not that sex is or should be off limits. On the contrary, it should definitely have a place in poetic discourse as it is a fundamental part of our common human existence. Just maybe not a part of my induvidual public canon. 

Perhaps I’m still somewhat bent and broken when it comes to sex. Mind you, bent and broken is different from being confused. I’ve experienced enough that all of my curiosities have been satisfied. I know myself. I am who I am, as always, a complicated compilation of all of my explorations and experiments.  

Anyhow… today… I have neither the time nor the inclination to continue this trail of thought. 

***

8 hours ago I was very fired up and ready to throw all my knives at the day. I might have even gotten a little farther on the topic of sex, if I had not been rudely interrupted by obligations and responsibilities. Chief among these were taking lunch to my dad and waiting 2 hours in line (outside in 20 degree temps) with my daughter so she could get her second dose of the vaccine. All of that put a damper on any freak-flag flying or first draft drafting. 

It’s been a good cage match but I’m tapping out. Gonna save my strength for tomorrow’s down smash. 

There’s always tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,

~Miss SugarCookie