Vengeance is Mine

Move on.
Let go.
Live well.
Headline your own show.

Drop toxic.
Choose good.
Forget the score.
Do what you should.

The crowds paid to see
What and who YOU are.
You are the talent.
You’re the brilliant star.

Those extras didn’t have chops
They only ever clung
Hangers on, haters gone
It was your name brightly hung

Don’t apologize
For putting yourself first.
Where would they put themselves
If the situation reversed?

Girl, bye.

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My Jewels

In the play that I’m in right now, Grapes of Wrath (sorry, lots of blogs about Grapes, that’s at the top of my thinking right now), I take a pair of earrings with me from the house as we make way for California from Oklahoma.

We don’t have much room on the truck, but a pair of earrings has value and fit neatly in my pocket. I give the earrings to Rosasharon later.

When I came to Florida, we didn’t have much. Some household items: couch, TV, everyday odds and ends, enough crap to fill a U-haul, but not many valuables. More than some folks. Enough to be eternally grateful.

But. It could have all burned up in a fiery crash, fell down a cliff in a runaway U-haul, or ended up in the Gulf for all I cared.

My earrings were/are my husband and child. They are my precious jewels. The treasure I slip into my pocket when all is lost. The value I take with me. The items I can’t do without. The adornment God has dripped from my ears and hung around my neck. They make me feel beautiful.


Thank you for a wonderful birthday, Guy. It was so fulfilling.

I don’t usually do this…

I don’t usually ask questions, but I’m curious.
SEX
Need or want?

Thanks for any comments. I truly want to know what people think. Please keep it science book appropriate. Thanks! lol

If it’s a need, why? What’s ur theory or evidence?


I’m not just doing this for stats. LOL I asked my FB friends as well. I’ll share my findings. πŸ˜€

Throwing it out there

In Grapes of Wrath, I have a scene where I sit around the fire in the first act. I’m getting rid of some things I don’t want to pack on the truck. There isn’t room for my washtub, so there isn’t room for sentimentality or mementos. I’m supposed to have a small box, probably an old cigar box or something, with papers inside and a pair of earrings.

I take the earrings, but I trash the rest. Throw it on the fire.

I made myself some papers to look at this morning. Stuff to burn. Stuff that has emotion in it. Stuff to stuff in that box. I can’t be sentimental about fake pictures, so I put my own pictures in a small box.

It’s hard for Ma to toss out the scraps of her life. This is the first time she’s confronted with leaving everything behind. I remember leaving everything behind 4 years ago.

Up until 4 years ago, I had to let go of very little. My mom stored some small stuff for me, but I had been carting around all my belongings, accumulating more and more stuff every place I went after I got married.

We took much, but we left much, 4 years ago.

4 years ago, I had a house. 4 years ago, I had medical debt. 4 years ago, I had cancer and didn’t know it. 4 years ago, I had hope that by leaving everything I had built, by walking away from crippling debt, I would know peace. At the very least.

I was right.

4 years ago, we had a small house in Kansas City. We were trying to make payments on the house, trying to fix ‘er up, trying to remodel and repair an aging older home. Gas was $4 a gallon. I was so sick, I couldn’t hold down a job. I was mentally and physically ill.

I had heart failure, undiagnosed thyroid cancer, failing gallbladder and out-of-control obesity. Of course I couldn’t work. I also had undiagnosed complex PTSD. Some days, I remember, it’s a miracle I’m still here. That I didn’t kill myself with food or by some other means.

I’m here.

When we realized that we would never pay off my medical debt, that we were sinking in a hole of a house, we quit paying on the house and filed bankruptcy. It was the hardest thing to walk away from debt and our house. I felt like a failure. A worthless piece of shit who deserved to go to jail for failing at adulthood.

I just thank God that our country offers a second chance. That you don’t go to prison for being irresponsible financially. (If that were true, our president would be in jail. LOL) Even Walt Disney claimed bankruptcy. KC represent! (He’s a KC boy, originally.)

There was so much pain. Guilt. Shame. But, at the end, relief. I could sleep again at night.

Bankruptcy is one of those things you never want to go through twice. For me anyway. I never want to go through the hassle or terror again. Stay out of debt. If you can. If your organs don’t fail. Also, keep insurance! (America’s medical safety net should not be bankruptcy.)

When we filed bankruptcy, we planned to move before they made us move. We started furiously working toward the goal of downsizing our entire house. I had a basement and a garage full of shit. Hand-me-downs. Arts and crafts. Tables. Chairs. Bookcases. Books. Thrift store finds. Theatre costumes. Bullshit. I had to start letting go of all those projects I told myself I’d do. I even had a friggin’ old, dusty upright piano. What was I thinking?

What I really wanted to do was start a house fire. Burn it to the ground. Emerge from the smoking hull. Start completely over. But I’m not a law breaker. So, we worked. For hours. With one vision in mind. Think of how nice it will be when this is all over. We will be free of these things. We won’t be slaves to objects. And we wanted to move to an apartment with a pool! Having a pool goal is a good motivator.

Plus, we had a huge garage sale. Sold a bunch on Craigslist. Made some fat stacks of cash. That was also a good motivator. I became quite a Craigslist savant. Never murdered! Woot!

One of the last days at our house, we had a bonfire. We had some folks over and had some food. We sat in our backyard to use it for the last time with friends. Something we rarely did and said we always wanted to do. It was a fun day. We bought hay bales for seats. We made burgers and dogs. We made a huge fire pit out of a decorative well. We cut the top of the well off (the roof and bucket) and used the brick oval base to make a fire pit. Done.

Threw old lumber, sticks and as many pieces of wood we could find (we had alot of scrap wood for some reason, we were hoarders, I guess) on the fire and lit the whole thing at once. Whoosh! It was a fireball. It was pretty cool.

We had just mowed the day before for company and the yard was full of dried grass clippings. We had an acre of land and plenty of dried grass. The kids at the party went around picking up the dried grass and throwing it on the fire. They had a blast. And the yard looked pretty nice, too. New party game. LOL

It was nice to use the yard finally. To enjoy the day. But it was far too late. Made me want to stay. But we would have never had the party if we weren’t going away. Such is life. Things are the sweetest, love is fiercest, when the end is near. Just enjoy it. Just do it before it’s too late.

When I do the scene as Ma, I’ve been around that fire before. I’ve left behind some precious things to come to where I am. But they are just things. I saved the best or most important parts from the fire. OR

Everything gets burnt. But the best things come out of the fire still intact. Refined. Like me.

When I think as Ma

Photo credit: Sean Priest


Any scene that I do lately, when I’m playing Ma Joad, I think of the long line of strong women in my family before me.

The way I stand. The way I stare. The way I clench my jaw in contemplation. Tired, somewhat relaxed, but chewing on tomorrow.

These two women saw the 20th century in color.

gmas
Both of my grandmothers at my mother’s wedding in 1954.

They saw the blood. And the babies. And the dust.
They saw the first car in their town.
The first TV.
The first washing machine.
They watched tears roll down their children’s faces.
Wiped those tears.
Watched rivers rise and fall.
Husbands come and go.

I think of them as I play Ma. How they would hold themselves? Carry themselves? Present themselves to the world? What did they have to do for their families during the Depression?

I know that deep down, they were both scared for their families, wanted the best for their kids. Loved God. Wanted all the things good people want for their descendants. And they just went on. Did what they needed. Hoped they made the right decisions. Cried their own tears.

They are Ma.
I am Ma.
All women are Ma.

Passed/Past

Excerpt for my book. It’s on sale right now for 99 cents. Thanks for reading.


Passed

The days pass, there is a garden, there is a kiddie pool, there is a tall metal slide, there are bikes. There are parties and Old Maid. There are faked deaths on the living room rug. There are forts made of blankets, boxes and overturned furniture. There is art on the steps to the basement. There is our neighbor, Mrs. Thomas. There are bees in her yard that she keeps.

Mrs. Thomas invites us over for drinks and play while she chats with my mother. Sometimes I imagine the more-than-average number of bees are falling into my glass of soda. They land on the edge of my glass and claim my sticky beverage. I wait until they fly away again before I take another drink. I become anxious as I see puckers in the dark liquid. It’s a drowning bee, struggling, trapped by the sugary fluid prison. Its wings weighted down by the tempting sweet and now dying a horrible, humiliating death. My mother assures me it’s just ice.

I’m not convinced.

I try to avoid the puckers as they lunge toward my lips. I wait for the stings. For the mouthful of barbs and flesh-engorging pinch of the bee or bees. Between sips, I watch the air.

The sun is white, bright and soft. There are thousands of particles bumbling and floating in the trees. There are dandelion puffs, grass clippings, pollen, bees, insects, dust, fairies and little bits of earth-bound angel breath, each humming in a small sphere of light. The light catchers and carriers; the light that carries each element on the warm, swirling wind.

Kneel

You tried to take a bite
Outta my ripped-up chest
But you didn’t expect my heart
To start over beyond arrest

This heart bites back
King-Kong and savage breast
This organ’s on fire
Sharp teeth and hot protest

Underestimated
Decimated
Halfway hated
Unabated

Still beating
Never retreating
Resolve concreting
Done competing

You can’t kill a thing
That has a life all its own
This heart could topple buildings
Take on the world alone

Break these chains
Swat down planes
Swallow old pains
Stitch these veins

Back from the dead
Alive and on the prowl
Climb to the top of my life
Deep-bellied, fierce flung howl

My turn.

Monster muscle
Full of fury
Impatient for love
Heart’s in a hurry

Scoop up affection
Stare at its silvery shape
Wonder what it’s like
To be anything but an ape

I’ve waited too long to be worshipped.
Kneel.

Solar

You can’t extinguish the sun
With any amount of rain
This sun’s on fire
Eternal lasting flame

If you tried to put out this star
With water from all the oceans
I would just burn brighter
With hydrogen explosions

I can’t stop shining
I was born to do it
I’ll decide when my time has come
I’m the one going through it

Stars come and go
Born and eventual collapse
But how brilliant was I
Between that interlapse

I won’t always rise in the sky
Just simply enjoy the day
For now I haven’t found my night
In my perpetual decay

When I go you’ll know
It won’t be sad or grey
You’ll ride my waves, mark my graves
Worship my erupting display

I. AM. THE. SUN.
I awaken these dark worlds
Exhaust the cost to find what’s lost
And polish these old pearls

I can only imagine

i imagine what it will be like when i stand before God. finally to be with him, just to be near him. that he will know all my sins and still love me.

he already does.

that he will judge me and rightly so. i will be held accountable, all will be fair, all will be balanced. all will be wiped away with one stroke if we simply bow.

what will it be like to be embraced by our father?

one by one, he will reach out for us and we will collapse in his arms. won’t that be heaven? to be known. completely. to be cherished.

we already are.