To the Good Dads

To the good dads, who actually care about their kids;
To the guys that have said, ” I have a daughter your age, I know….” {and mean it…not in a skeevy way}
To the guys that helped me when I was homeless, all on my own…
I thank you for the firewood, and the times you brought me food. I recognize the looking out
when creepers were about.
To the good dads who’s kids broke down….thank you for learning how to fix stuff…like broken down kids.
To the good dads who helped me move my broken car out of the road while I was breaking down…thank you for knowing how to fix stuff…like broken down cars.
To the good men that know how to be men…to the good dads that know how to be dads…
Thanks a bunch, from a girl who never had one. ♥

Might lose my fucking mind…but at least I have a heart.

I’m lost again.
Knew better than to trust-
knew better than to love. I knew better than to make you my everything.

Yet here I am, left with nothing.
You lied, you cheated, you stole. You deceived, you played, you stabbed me in the back.
You left me holding the bag of your disgrace.

But I don’t want it. I don’t want you. (Spoken in your voice, that time you said you HATE me). You never deserved me. I don’t want you.

And yet, here I am, with nothing left.
You walk away, smile on your face, pain and blame tossed to me.
Why would I pick it up? That’s your mess.

I try to feel peace. But panic attacks and anxiety consume me because I have a heart.
I have a heart that feels true love, and true pain.

I have a heart. Might lose my fucking mind…but at least I have a heart.

 

 

 

The Next Big Life Step?

Recently I’ve been thinking about all kinds of different life experiences I’ve had, both in waking and dreaming life, and am considering how to put it all together cohesively. That is to say, I’m trying to launch my own business, and am thinking of all the things I’ve learned in/about life along the way.
I do sometimes fall into the trap of comparing myself to others, because sometimes it just seems like other people have an easier time of doing things than I do. Do I just do things the hard way? Sometimes, yes, I suppose so. But I am a firm believer in doing things the right way, and sometimes there just aren’t any shortcuts.
Learning and growing is a constant struggle…and frankly I’m not much for that ‘constantly struggling’ shit. So, I’ve been piecing together all the bits of information that my brain has somehow managed to keep stored away for me over all these years and I’m changing my attitude. What I’ve remembered is that learning and growing doesn’t have to be a struggle. Failure is not an option, it’s a guarantee! Fucking embrace it.                                                                       My biggest struggle has always been not knowing what things were worth striving for, and what things I was better off quitting while I was ahead.  I’m learning to really trust my intuition, and not make unconscious moves based off of other people’s vibes.  I’m getting to be more okay with making mistakes and taking losses as all just part of the ups and downs of life in business. Slowly but surely I’ll figure out what’s really worth my time and when to say no to to things that just don’t suit me.
I’ve learned a lot of skills along the way in life, and I’ve got a lot more to learn, but I’m looking forward to putting everything I’ve learned together in one neat little project I’ll call: Girl From Glass Designs.

Ode to Shella

I had the honor and privilege of knowing one of the best souls that ever existed in a dog body.  She was sweet and loving, and so fucking smart. She was an Alpha through and through.  She was the shit, man.
When she was just a young pup we had gone for a walk by a river whose banks had been recently cut away by floods. She was off leash and I told her not to go any farther towards the river bank; she looked back at me defiantly with that alpha-dog (pup) way about her, and plopped over the edge anyway.  As I ran toward the river bank to retrieve her I saw that little teddy-bear-faced pooch’s head pop up, her little ears flapping, and again, this time a little lower as she had sunken into the mud below.  I reached over and picked her up by the scruff of her back and explained to her that when I say no it means no, and not just because I’m trying to be mean or something, but because I was seriously looking out for her. From that moment on we were tight. She understood; I understood that she understood, and it was amazing.
I have so many amazing memories with this doggy.  I know everyone likes to brag and say that their dog is the best, [and this wasn’t even my dog, it was my old neighbor’s dog] but she was seriously the best. So good that one time she actually went nose to nose with a skunk, but didn’t get sprayed. (I’m telling you this doggy was the muthafuckin’ coolest).
Another time, when she was still pretty young and I would have expected her to chew through anything, I had a boyfriend who cooks over, and his shoes were covered in grease and flour. I heard him say “Oh Shella, my shoes”, and thought that I was gonna owe him a new pair…nope! She fucking spit polished those shoes perfectly clean and left them in a neat little pile at the bottom of the stairs for him.
There was a time we were walking through the woods in winter (which seriously is like all the time in VT) and a deer popped out in front of us, and Shella jumped, but stopped and turned back to look to me for the okay before running ahead. There were so many adventures we had just walking through our boring little VT town.  We walked the train tracks down, and we walked the tracks up. We did every damn loop you could in that town and then some. The best part was I never needed to put her on a leash. She knew, when I said “stay close” she came close, when I said “stay out of the road” she moved out of the road.
I missed her so much before she was even gone from this world. I so wished I could have spent more time with her, but life doesn’t always work out that way. So, I am left to think of the good times, the amazing times I’ve had with Shella-roodle-roo. I could go on and on about the fun shit we did together and the great times we had, but in the end I can only hope that she knows how truly loved she was (is still) by all of us…because she was that fucking cool. She made so many people’s lives brighter with her super-fucking cute puppy dog face! And her whole body wiggles and her little rabble-rouser growl-bark-greetings. I will sincerely miss her jumping on me…I still have some sleeves with her little bite-marks in them and now I never want to toss them.
Shella-roodles, you’re the best fucking dog I’ve ever had the pleasure of bonding with.  May your soul move smoothly and easily into the next incarnation. I hope you feel all the love you brought into this world and then some. I love you so fucking much. May we meet again. ∞
All my love to you, Shella-roo,
your Sony.

 

We are all Stardust

Sometimes I swear I can feel Saturn moving…and a little bit of Mercury too.
When the stars scattered their brains and guts across the skies- we all came closer to being.
Time flies and so did the bits of us.
Bits and pieces of our celestial parents swirled through the oceans of space before gathering like pearls in the mouths of constellations.
We are all stardust, it is our DNA.                                                                                                       I think I take after Saturn∼ we share the same heaviness∼ a gravity reserved for the most lead-boned of us. We share twin particles- they shimmer together- and we acknowledge one another.
Hello dear Saturn, lovely to feel you again.

 

A retail workers rant, cut short. Because you know, a custy came in.

Consumerism. Retail. Customer Satisfaction. Gag. Blarf. Blech.

It is a sad condition society is afflicted with. For too long the consumers of this nation have been conditioned to get as much as they can, for as cheap as they can get it, and whenever they want it. If there is a problem, rational behavior is not encouraged but rather, the worse behavior a consumer displays, the better treatment they will get. The idea that “the customer is always right” is bullshit, and only encourages the idea that the more money you have the more power you have over others.

Here’s an example to help visualize the scenario:

A college graduate is working in a clothing boutique, anxiously waiting to hear if  she got in to the grad school program she needs to launch her career. (If those even exist anymore). A rather overweight woman pants over to her, and asks if they carry a particular item in her size. Without even looking in the back room, she explains,

“I’m sorry, the largest that comes in is a size XL”. She knows this because she’s been working there too damn long, and knows exactly what sized merchandise the boutique carries.

Obviously offended, the woman puffs up, turns red, and in a condescending tone starts berating the clerk:

“You’re not even going to go back there to look? Am I going to have to get a manager or are you going to do what you get paid to do?”

What clerk is actually thinking: “1, I am the manager β¡+€h, and 2, I just did my job and am still underpaid. F* off already.

However, smile plastered on, she moves before the woman can continue, opening the door to the backroom, and then pulls out the bin with that style. She proceeds to rummage through it, clearly showing the customer that they do not have it in stock. The customer would have almost been satisfied…but for the fact that she just happen to go to the beach earlier, and given the sandy conditions, was being a crabby-pants. That and the whole, “I get to be better than you because I’m on this side of the counter” thing.

Crabby pants commences a tirade about how unfair it is that women of her size are expected to wear unfashionable moo-moos, and that boutiques like this should accommodate her.

(Naturally, the world should revolve around you, what with the gravitational pull and all.) 

“It is too bad, and if you can’t find anything here, you might try XYZ down the road.”

 

Perfectionism and Procrastination

As is a common theme in my life, I am struggling with productivity. I have grand ideas of working hard and persevering through difficulty playing in my head like some great montage showcasing achievements I’ll never make. I think I want to get somewhere, but I rather get lost along the way. I’ve made a habit of never reaching my goals, and I don’t want to beat myself up about it anymore so I convince myself it’s okay to just be a worthless fucking slug of a person. I overwhelm myself with things I think I should be doing, and I do nothing instead. I sleep, I daydream, I tell myself that I just need to do a little something, and it’ll get better. Baby steps. The thing is, it takes so much effort, and energy, and work to crawl out of a hole, but just the slightest nudge can send you back down to the bottom.
(De ja vu…I’ve written this before….I had to check to make sure, and then deleted some posts because it was all the same whiny shit. I won’t check this time, because I remember from the de ja vu…I’ve done it before. I remember, the last time I was doing this, the direction of the post changed dramatically in my mind).

I have a fairly new mantra, “Done is better than perfect” –my apologies to the person I stole that from. I just try to keep reminding myself that it doesn’t all have to be perfect, especially not the first try. But, this is a source of immense stress for me. See, I’ve been noticing that for any project to really come out looking great, you can’t skimp on materials, tools, knowledge, or elbow grease. But what if you don’t have money to just throw away on failed projects? You spend a lot of time and money or you procrastinate like a motherfucker and justify it because it’s not worth your time, money and energy to try something only to fail. I keep trying to convince myself that failure is part of growth and blah blah blah, but I can’t afford to keep failing. So I take a nap and get depressed.

I’ve been particularly bummed out lately by my sewing projects. A few years ago I spent about $80 on fabric that I slowly fucked up and cut down smaller and smaller until I just said fuck it, this ain’t working. $80 and lots of time down the drain. I am currently so close to finishing this cute dress that has just been killing me from the beginning. Step by step I’ve been completing it…running out of thread along the way. Now I’m down to just the hem, and my last couple feet of thread. What if I run out of thread now, so damn close to finishing?! And what if I can’t ever find any more of this specific goldenrod thread? What if I’m just in my head coming up with excuses that prevent me from just hemming the fucking dress already? I mean, it’s not like I’m ever even going to have occasion to wear it! If only I didn’t fucking care so much, I might actually get something done!…
…but, not so fast. See, I look at other people’s stuff and I’m such a hyper-critical bitch about it.
Example: I love photography, because unlike some art forms, there really are rules that you can follow that make or break a photo. Break the rules, the photo looks weird- it’s just the way optics work. So I recently saw all these outdoor wedding photos and the frame is crooked, so the table in the background holding the cake looks like it’s tipping over and the cake is falling. It sucks. From a photography standpoint, I was shocked that they considered that okay. It made me kinda mad because I was like, “I would never think that was acceptable, how can these “professionals” charge people money for this shit?!”…oh yeah, because they’d actually deliver instead of just nit picking over little details until the deadline had been missed.
I had also Googled “having a hard time turning a hem circle dress” to see what tips others might have for this problem of straight grains of a fabric distorting differently across 360°. As it turns out, other people just go with the fucked up crooked hem, and they blog about it like we can’t tell their skirt is all fucked up. But really, if I were to see homegirl on the bus wearing this homemade skirt, would I judge her harshly, or just be like, “wow, she had the balls to make a skirt, know it was a little less than perfect, and rock it anyway. Good for her”! Probably the latter. See, I’m so worried that people are going to treat me the way I used to be treated…constantly judging, telling me I’m not good enough and highlighting my flaws, that I forget that I don’t need to concern myself with their opinions. I thought others were so much better than me, but they all have warped clothes and tilted frames.
I used to think being a professional meant something, but the older I get the more I realize the only “experts” are self-proclaimed and usually undeserving of that recognition. I used to shy away from responsibility because I was afraid of making mistakes, now I’m more like, “oh here, let me get that”…. (You fucking retard).

Well , this post did take a turn, but that’s cool I guess. This is what happens in a free-write, no brainstorming, no direction rant of the mind I suppose. Thanks for reading.

 

Strange Change

I know it’s not just me; the world is changing in new strange ways, and some of it is awesome, and some of it is extremely disturbing to me. Technology is taking off at this crazy rate, and while in some ways it is leaving humans behind, it is also stressing the importance of spiritual connection. Some things are moving in marvelous directions, while still others are being left by the wayside. Sometimes I wonder if I give technology, society, government, etc. to much blame/credit. Maybe it is just me…

The older I get the more I feel this weird, unfocused, disconnect from life. Though lately I’ve been having lots of flashbacks and memories of things from long ago, and I can strongly remember feeling more….alive back then. Maybe it was just childhood, and adulthood just sucks the life out of you…but there sure are lots of articles and such written about how lost and confused the latest generation is. We are even dubbing new mini- generations because the old is just out, and the new is rolling in.

In writing this for example, I am in bed, at 1:25a.m. and just can’t sleep…so I’m journaling my crazy  thoughts to be broadcast over the interwebs to be seen and scrutinized by all for all eternity. Isn’t that weird? I mean, when I was a kid I thought it was kinda messed up how many great authors/ inventors/ artists etc. died before their works were ever recognized; and nowadays there are billions of videos of people creating amazing works of art, doing incredible things with their bodies, or otherwise blowing peoples minds up all over the net.

And here I am, writing at 1:33a.m., feeling like this blog is weak and incomplete because I’m not putting the proper focus and energy into it. My paragraphs are disorganized…just the rambling thoughts from my wandering mind. Am I the only one that watches videos of amazing people and wonders what the hell happened to me? I swear I used to be so good at so many things. I used to have it in me to be somebody. I had creativity and the energy and drive to actually do something.

Now it’s all anxiety/depression/ adulthood that’s dragging me down. But it’s not just me. A whole generation of people seems to be waking from this slumber, realizing that life doesn’t need to be that way, and yet they don’t know what to do. Not just in my area, but nationwide we have an actual epidemic of opioid addiction. People are numbing the pain of their shitty lives that can’t possibly compare to those few who seem to be doing so great. It’s like, when you’re not on top you’re just being “negative” and need to be cut out of people’s lives (even by those that preach compassion)?

I also believe things are getting much harder for this generation because of the economic inequality that has just gone so ridiculously out of control. At least back a generation or two ago you really could “go get a job” and it might suck a bit, but it would pay the bills, and probably have room for savings too. Nowadays employers are trying everything they can to un-do what unions did to make the workplace an actual place for people to work and make a living as opposed to slavery. Now that we are back to pretty much indentured servitude to our own government overlords, is it any wonder people are constantly stressed, and wanting to escape?

Ugh. So how the hell do those super people in the videos do it? Who had the time, energy and resources to make that happen? I read so many articles about the people that quit the job they hated to travel…or whatever…but how? They never mention that. My guess, connections. I assume in most of these cases, the parents offer a corner of the basement or something at the very least. But I don’t know…there are some strong independent people out there. But everyone needs someone.

Which brings me to the end. Everyone needs someone. I am lucky to have people in my life that love and care about me…but they are very few in number. It sucks, being socially awkward in an increasingly rude world. Because technology does disconnect people in a way, and because people’s attention spans have been shortened to 140 characters or less, it seems people are just always distracted, unfocused, flitting from one thought to the other without ever stopping to reflect. Being a reflective person, I often get interrupted. Even by myself. So I just need to remember to slow it down, and really stop to be grateful for what I have here, now.

 

Where I Dream

I’ve been visiting you in my dreams…

I love to see you again, if only from my own fleeting memories. I’ve been having flashbacks of being cradled in your embrace, listening to the birds, breathing your air.

I’m fearful of your being tainted now…but we’re all spoiled in our own way aren’t we? Perfection in the flaws and such. You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. I think about you all the time. I miss you so much! I wish I could just reach out to you, but alas, all I can seem to do for now, is see you in my dreams.

I wonder how you’ve changed, doubtless you have. Who do you know? Who do you see? It doesn’t matter I suppose, everything works out the way it needs to I think. Perhaps you remind me of all my old wasted opportunities, and how you taught me to grow and I did nothing with it. I guess that’s not entirely true. My style has always been slow. I was only gathering myself for things to come later. Only now am I feeling that immense pressure that the time is now, and I’m not quite sure what to do with myself. Even still, I need to remember everything I learned with you.

You changed me, and I am forever grateful. I hope to see you again soon, but until we see each other again, keep it real Bellingham, I love you!

Wake up

I’ve been feeling not good enough lately. I’ve been going to a dance class and it’s pretty obvious that I’m the weakest link. I’m a slow learner, and normally I’m okay with this, but this is something where everyone is supposed to be in sync. I know I have a tendency to overthink the moves, and then I trip myself up and only seem to get worse as everyone else gets better and better.

I had checked my horoscope recently and it said to listen to what others say, as this may be the universe trying to speak directly to you. I have a fb friend that is wildly successful at her stay at home job that she loves, and she recently posted the words “You are LAZY” in a post about not blaming the world for your circumstances and just having more ambition to get what you want. Now, I had to read this a couple times over and thought to myself, ouch universe. Harsh. But I go through this cycle of trying to defeat negative thinking all the time…I always see people, literally everyone it seems, who has more than me. And no, not just financially…I mean I feel like I am lacking in all departments…perpetually broke, feeling stuck in a shitty corporate job that I hate, very few people I call friends and even fewer family. Basically my support system isn’t there. I was raised to believe that everything is a struggle, nothing comes easy, and so if it does it’s probably too good to be true. This mentality has left me very depressed over the years because I don’t like to ask for help, and I don’t trust the good things…I don’t think they’re for me. If something good happens for me, I must have stolen someone else’s joy.

So many times I’ve tried to “stay positive” and pull myself out of this…I’ve done a lot; baby steps, great strides… major pitfalls. I’m trying hard to think about my energy as currency, and instead of worrying so much about how I spend money, think more about how I spend my energy. Just there, I was going to say worry about spending my energy…but I don’t want to worry about it…that’s a shitty waste of energy!! (See what I did there).

The thing is, I do spend a lot of time thinking about the state of the world, and how fucked up it is, and how I have ideas to make it better but no way to implement them. When I say them out loud, people think I’m crazy. You’d think I’d get used to it…but I’m sensitive, so it cuts me down and I want to just crawl under a rock and give up. How do people just have the get-up-and-go drive to do things? It must seem like a silly question for those that do it every day, but maybe it’s just because I overthink everything and burn all my energy before I even lift a finger. It’s a wonder I’m even writing this -on my phone-because I knew I’d lose the motivation to write if I took the time to get my laptop and start it up.

Just like with my dance class, everything in my life moves more freely when I just have a little more trust in myself, and my skills. It’s funny, I can usually do things just fine when no one is watching, but as soon as eyes are on me I fall apart. I suppose I really can’t let others affect me like that.

As for being lazy or not wanting things bad enough, I guess I have to say that I never thought of ambition as a good thing. It isn’t necessarily good or bad…but in humans it has a tendency to lead to greed and destruction, unsustainable consumerism, and the deterioration of other values. Because ambitious people are perceived as being better, their value of the bottom line becomes the standard while things like compassion, patience, and understanding go out the window. Ambition isn’t good or bad in and of itself, but it does matter what motivates that person. Are they ambitious about making the world a better place, or making their world a better place?