Just a note...

Obviously, this is my blog and I am happy you're reading it. Writing is one of the most cathartic activities I have ever found, and for this reason I have kept journals almost my entire adult life, even if I've been a spotty writer at times.

The decision to take a blog and go public was not an easy one for me. Largely everything I have ever written that focuses on my life and all the challenges that come with it has been in a notebook, tucked away out of anyone's sight but my own. And I still journal away from here because it helps me to get out all the stuff I'd never publicly write about, though sometimes you can be sure a post I've made here started in a wire bound notebook. In fact,  more than likely they all do.

The point I am trying to make here is that I take my writing in my journal--and by the same token--my blog pretty seriously. It's not me trying to find a way to fill my spare time. I have none. This blog is the equivalent of me slicing my soul open and asking everyone to have a look. You may have noticed my posts really aren't all about unicorns farting glitter, and they aren't meant to be.

I have had some amazing feedback about what I have written,  and it makes me feel proud and slightly embarrassed to be honest. I appreciate all of the kind words and compliments I've gotten, from my best friend who knows every bit of what I write by virtue of who she is, to people I don't know very well at all who have made it a point to tell me. Thank you. You totally get it.

Someone told me today--totally unsolicited,  mind you--that my blog is "cute." This I find insulting if not completely condescending.  Clearly the person who said this hasn't taken a moment to read my posts and if he has, well, I just don't know what to say. Way to minimize something that means this much to me. All of the adjectives you could have chosen,  and cute is all you could manage?

Unicorns farting glitter are cute,  but we already talked about those.

What I'm getting at is this: don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining.  Be genuine. You haven't read my blog? That's cool. I think it's pretty kick ass, but I'm biased. You don't like my blog? Hey, there's no helping bad taste. Let me assure you this endeavor is more about me than what anyone thinks of me...so is my life. I hope I reflect that in what I write.

Meanwhile do me the favor of keeping your stupid thoughtless comments to yourself while you watch those unicorns blowing glitter out their asses,  thanks.

Blue

I have been a raging bitch lately. For about a week, I have been in what I can only call a funk....and not the George Clinton variety. I have been weepy, cranky, snarling and mean.

PMS, you ask? Negative. But thanks for the suggestion.

The past few years have been rough for more reasons than I can ever begin to explain. Life changes, love changes, changes I welcomed with open arms and changes I never saw coming that knocked me on my ass....opened my eyes...taught me things about myself that I never knew....answered questions that lingered in my head for years and brought new questions I may never get answers to.

I'm a worrier by nature. These things tend to pile up and weigh on me. When that happens, I get blue.

As of Tuesday, I've officially been in nursing school for a year. I have 9 months left. Barring any tragedy, in December I will be pinned and graduate, take my boards and officially be a nurse. I'm doing pretty well in school. I work my ass off to try to learn everything I'm supposed to while trying like hell not to let anybody down.

It's exhausting.

It's up at the ass crack of dawn, drink as much coffee as I can, get the kids ready for school, get myself ready for work or school or work and school, drop off Small Blond and Bitter, go to work, go to school, go back to work, pick up SB&B, go home, do homework with the boys, have dinner, do my own homework, go to bed. Glorious sleep.

Then I get up and do it again.

I'm burning out. I can feel it. I can feel it in my schoolwork, at my job, at home. The pace I have to keep up is wearing me out. And it feels like there just isn't a way to get a break. This week was supposed to be my "spring break." Remember spring break when you piled in a car or on a plane to go to fabulous destinations with your friends, sat in the sun, drank cheap beer and danced until 7am?

Yep. Me too. That was 20 years ago.

Here's my spring break reality these days: I have 300 pages to read in an IV therapy book and a 4-hour online lecture to listen to and take notes on. I was looking forward to a full 40 hour week at work for the first time in God knows how long, until I got a call the other day that I had a puking kid. I swear I've tried to read that IV book. It puts me to sleep. I'm not hearing rave reviews on the lecture that I will have to focus on this weekend. I've completely spaced on fluid & electrolyte balance and only maintain a faint recollection of acid/base balance--the concepts that will dominate the next 8 weeks of my life. Throw in the time change. Who knew one stinking hour could contribute to the juicy frothing mess that is currently me?

I am not complaining. I chose this. I just need to find my mojo cuz I seem to have misplaced it. Sleep every second that I can. Try to file the unanswered questions in the "To Be Determined" file. Keep telling myself everything happens for a reason and no one knows what the future holds. Drink coffee. Read chapters. Hide in my lair when my snarling gets out of control. Keep working my ass off because really, what other choice would I allow myself?

I just have to remind myself to breathe....to let go of the things that are beyond my control. To do nice things for myself and count my blessings. To laugh and eat ice cream and spend 3 hours on the phone with my best friend...to soak up the time I spend with the boys. To keep my sense of humor to not be so blue.

After all, blue is not my color.

To My 23 Year Old Self....

What would I (at close to 40) say to my 23 year old self?

I've been kicking this blog post around in my mind for close to 2 years now. Not exactly "if you could go back and do it again....," because I truly have few regrets. If given the chance, some things I would have done differently, some things I might not have done at all, but there are really not many things I'm so sorry about that I hold deep regret. This is sort of like, "if I knew then what I know now...." I imagine, though, that would have quashed the 20's angst I had, and really--what's the point of your 20's if you don't have drama and angst?

Still though....There are some things I would like to tell me....

Things like....
-Girl. That hair color? So not for you.
-You're going to be a nurse one day. No. Seriously. Stop laughing.
-Passion is a double edged sword.
-Don't care so much what other people think of you. It just doesn't matter.
-Be kind to yourself. Do nice things for yourself. Sometimes you're all you have.
-Stop fighting the curly hair. Embrace it, find a good curl product and carry on.
-You never get over losing your parents. Ever.
-Mardi Gras. Do it.
-Enjoy the time you have with your mom the way she is now. You won't have her this way much longer.
-Stand up for yourself. Always.
-You have to go after the things you want, because they sure as hell aren't going to lay themselves on your doorstep.
-He loves you. And he will always love you.
-Your heart is too squishy, your brain is too logical. Listen to your gut. It will never steer you wrong.
-You still know more about art than your brother ever will, but he was right when he said you'd be a Conservative one day. No. Seriously. Stop laughing.
-Two little boys will come into your life and when they do you will learn the meaning of completely selfless unconditional love. Your heart will burst with it every day of your life with them.
-I hope you like Volkswagens. Cuz you're gonna be driving one for a loooooonnnnng time.
-Oh so next year? You're going to have this phase where you're a total slut. And you're going to have a whole lot of fun for several months. You're welcome.
-151 is The Devil.
-Things aren't always what they seem, no matter how long they've seemed that way.
-Your close girlfriends are your lifeline. They are your sounding board, your mirror, your rock. Value them. They are worth their weight in gold.
-Yes, Bono is still as hot as ever.

I'm sure there are other things I could say, but I think this pretty much covers what I would want me to know. Makes me wonder what my 60 year old self would say to me at the age I am now......