i pondered

i had a miscarriage last month. i don't want anyone to say "i'm so sorry," because i'm not. it is a very matter-of-fact happening in my life. i wasn't struck with sorrow, because i didn't even know i was pregnant until it was happening, and i don't want another baby right now. if i had taken a pregnancy test, i probably would have been devastated, but i simply -- wasn't. 

i waited for emotions to come, but they never did. i was going to write about how i felt, about the experience, but this is all it was: i don't at all compare my experience with a miscarriage to someone who's heart already knows and loves their baby, even if it's only been for a day or two. when it was happening, i pondered the soul that entered my body and then was gone, and it was bittersweet. i didn't even cry.

lipstick

my hair is wet, and therefore, crazy. it's short [but much longer than when it was first cut], so it sticks up in every direction when i take a shower. it's grown out, i like to think of it as a patch of overgrown weeds at this point, and my part is sort of in the middle [not the side, it will not part on the side. nope. refuses. quite ornery.] and i have this bizarre cowlick on the left side of my head in the back, that seemed to appeared out of nowhere a couple years ago. i know it's just hair, but you know -- it's not just hair. i normally don't do anything with it, which is part of the reason i wanted dreads and part of the reason i cut it short. i am just much too lazy to do anything about it. but getting my hair cut made me feel good. i don't generally feel good or sexy or beautiful or stylish, it's just too much of a pain. 

shortly after i got my hair cut, i bought a cute little skirt, the kind that sits below your ribcage and poofs out mid-thigh, and i wore it one afternoon when i ran a couple errands, nothing special, but it really made me feel pretty. it was nice.

sometimes i wonder if i should start dressing nicer and grow my hair out long again and actually get it trimmed every two months like your supposed to and wear makeup and high-heels like i did when i was sixteen. man, i look at pictures of myself when i was sixteen, and i remember what a horrible self-image i had, and i think ... you didn't know 

i'm not going to sit here and complain that i have a horrible body, because i don't. after i had river i went shopping for clothes and was surprised to discover i had a size eleven ass. i'd never been bigger than a size five. but it really put into perspective size and clothing and women's bodies, and how in our culture, a size one and two and three and four and five are "acceptable," and really, i think that's sad. because only like, 10% of women are a size 3.

i don't know. you know?

i once watched a film about a woman who lived with her son in the woods in a tiny house with one room. they rode bikes and played in the creek and ate from their own garden and made their own clothes and lived simply and loved life.


i gotta do something, man. if i'm envying people who live in the woods with no plumbing, something's up. i have to go bake, or sew something together, or vacuum. chopping all my hair off should have been enough, but no. i feel trapped. you know what i mean?


i feel like i'm walking on egg shells through life. not that i wish to be frivolous or careless or ungrateful. but i feel like each decision i make is based on this giant thing called "adult life." and i really don't want to hear, well "welcome to married life!" or, "what did you expect?" or any shit like that. i'm serious. i'm not stupid. and i also know life doesn't have to be like walking on eggshells. it just doesn't. life is what you make it.


and that's what gets me. what am i making? lately, i feel like i've been having this epiphany. i have this one life. [isn't that a line from a movie? so dramatic.] one life, and one chance to live it how i want to live it. and for starters, i am sick of egg shells.


tonight, i bought a $5 pack of rags with which to wash dishes. and i stood there with them in my hand for like, ten minutes, wondering if i really wanted to buy them. because it's only five bucks, but then again ... it's five bucks. i went out for sushi with my friend judith the other night, and felt like i'd just bought a diamond necklace. no seriously, i felt so guilty. it's not like we're poor. i joke around about us being poor, but we're not; we're so rich. we are in, what, the top 36% of the world's richest? [i checked.]


but i feel like every decision i make is based on what another person wants, too. i mean, yes, hello, that's what marriage is. duh. but i never got to make decisions solely for myself. i missed out on that part. i don't want to be separated from that. i just want to feel... freer. and not free in the sense that i am in bondage and need to be released, or anything like that. but the kind of free where you dance and ride bikes and go on random trips and aren't afraid to jump when the opportunity arises.


i know this probably has to do with me and jesus. i feel close to him, but we don't talk much. but man, i'll be riding in my car, and then freakin' kim walker will play on my iPod, and it'll be just me and sweet jesus, rocking out, tears, snot, the works. i am so thankful to him, so in love with god. but i know i don't love him enough. i know i could love him so much more. i get this achy feeling in my chest when i sing the chris tomlin song, "you're more than enough for me," because i believe desperately that it is true. but maybe part of the ache is that i don't live it enough. maybe i need to remind myself that he is more than enough.


i don't think it's wrong to want certain things. as long as one doesn't make it an obsession, a jealousy. i just have to find a happy medium. and i have to first be satisfied in him.


it's not like i'm materialistic. sometimes i feel like getting rid of half our dishes. we have so much shit. we haven't bought much of anything since we got married, so i don't even know why i feel guilty about it. most of it was given to us, and most of the furniture john was given when he moved to minneapolis, before we even knew each other. sometimes, i get this idea that i'd like to move into an economy apartment, if only i could just get rid of all the junk. i don't really care how much or how little space we have, as long as it's pretty and organized. and the thing is, we don't even have that much. but i mean, we totally do. but we don't.... you know?!


so, i'm going to go to bed, and tomorrow when i wake up, everything will be the same. and that's the issue.

dreadful, just dreadful

i'm dreading my hair. i've wanted dreads for about three years. throughout those three long years, my thought process has been such:


wouldn't it be nice if i had dready hair? yes, it sure would be nice.


when i get old, i'll dread my hair. that way i have time to do everything else with it, like cut it short or grow it long or dye it pink or bleach it white.


hell, i'm gonna do it! i'm gonna get those dreads!


no way. i just can't. i'll miss my hair. i love my hair when it's long.


I HATE MY FREAKING HAIR! IT'S SO FREAKING ANNOYING. I JUST NEED THOSE FREAKING DREADS ALREADY. FRAK.


no i can't do it.




finally, after years of arguing with myself in my head [i do it a lot] i am ready. to be dready. ha! i had to ask myself, if i were stuck on an island by myself with no one judging me, no one expecting anything from me, no one to tell me ew why would you want dreads?! or oo dreads are soooo keewl you'll totally be a hippie do it! or anything in between, would i dread my hair? well probably, because dreads would be way easier to take care of if i were stuck on an island. but that's beside the point. yes i would! if i were to do the one thing that would make me completely happy and not worry about what anyone else thought, then yes, i would get dreads. i'm making it sound a lot more dramatic than it is, but bear with me.

also, i have developed this mentality that hair is just hair and it grows back... probably from one too many shitty hairstyling jobs. it's a good mentality to have. despite this, i actually really love my hair. i've been growing out my hair for as long as i've been contemplating dreading it, when i got it cut nearly to my chin about three years ago. it is now six inches from my elbow, which is not quite as long as i wanted it before i got dreads. [i wanted it long enough to kneel on, which is as long as it was before i got it cut three years ago. like, when i go to get something out from under my bed and then try to stand up and can't because i'm kneeling on my own hair. totally happened.] and i love it when it cooperates. but it rarely does. and it's thinned out a lot since i had the baby. and it really does get in the way. and river pulls it all the time. so it's time. i plan on having dreads for at least three years, hopefully five. possibly ten. who knows. however, i have also kept in mind that i may hate them [i don't plan on it, but how many decision do we make that we plan on hating right off the bat], and that i may want to chop them off in three months. am i willing to loose a good chunk of my hair if i cut them off? yes. will i cry either way? probably.

i better love them. it better be the best decision i've ever made in my entire life. just sayin'.

goodbye long, flowing, beautiful [cough], iconic old-whitney hair.
hello dreadies.

pessimist

i am one of the most pessimistic people i know. i hate it. i'm the person who writes sullen facebook updates in my head but never posts them because people will think i'm a depressed bitch. i'm not depressed, and i hope i'm not a bitch. nevertheless, many sullen facebook updates still get past my reasoning in my head.

this morning i woke up with a nasty tooth ache. not just a tooth ache, but swollen gums, and a jaw i can't open wide enough in which to stuff a burger (not that i want to stuff a burger in my mouth, but i couldn't think of anything else to describe the lack of being able to open my mouth). i also woke up remembering my son wanted to nurse nearly every hour during the night. so already i was in a sullen, bitchy mood. i am clearly not a morning person. when i went to his room to nurse him, again, i found him soaked with pee and his hair standing straight up on his head, plastered in spit up. awesome.

so this is a great start to my week, and i just can't get my thoughts over this tooth ache. currently, the pain is so HELLO I'M HERE AND I AM GOING TO HURT YOU that i just can't imagine it ever going away. have you ever had pain like that? i mean seriously, i look ahead of my life twenty years from now and i still see this god awful tooth ache, and possibly years of painful and expensive dentistry. i might die, too.

my life, reminiscent

i take showers when i'm stressed. during the winter, unless i've gotten particularly dirty, i normally take showers every two to three days - scrunch your nose, call me a hippie, that's what i do - so if you catch me taking a shower two or three days in a row, you can guarantee i'm stressing out. normally i sit on the toilet (TMI? then get the hell out of here, this blog is for real people) writing, while the hot shower runs, but since i'm trying to conserve water and save the earth and all, today i'm sitting in the tub while the water runs over my back and makes my paper soggy. that's right, i'm writing in the shower. welcome to my world.


lately, my life feels reminiscent of the tear-jerker greatestmovieintheentireworld, beaches, only without the cheating husband, heart fai - damnit, my pen stopped working. so now i know. that's what happens when one writes in the shower.


as i was saying, only without the cheating husband, heart failure, and musical success. gah, i've seen that movie, what, over 100 times? i can relate on so many un-relatable levels, if you know what i mean (what i mean is, pieces of beaches reminds me of my life, but my life is much less dramatic and poetic and i don't think someone would cry if they were to watch my life). i'm losing my best friend in the entire world. and i'm not exaggerating. i just sent her hate-mail. well, not exactly. but it wasn't nice. and it ended with, "i'm done trying to be a friend to someone who ignores me 99% of the time until you need me"    and    "i couldn't imagine ever living without the friendship we had. but that's what i've been doing the past couple years." i mean, that's great stuff. epic. i feel like i'm in a movie. 


beaches is about the best-friendship of two women. there is a scene where CC and hillary see each other after years of disconnect. they play as if everything is fine, but it's not. and then they end up yelling at each other, fighting, snotting, crying. they ask each other why their friendship faded. they ask what happened. and then, in the end, they are best friends again. 


can this please happen in my movie?


i'm going to go rent beaches on netflix, and then tomorrow i'm going to go buy a discounted box of valentines chocolate-flavored crap at the dollar store, and cry over my ex-boyfriend. i mean, best friend. my life will never be the same.


            "be sure the keep in touch, CC, okay?"
                "well sure, we're friends aren't we?"


aw shit. time to start the waterworks.

prosaic

it's 1:10 am, and late. it's quiet, it smells like ham, we cooked one this afternoon. john's been asleep since 11, river since 11:45. i was just about to go to sleep, when i was struck by something, i don't know what. it made me want to write. so here i am, with nothing coming to mind. i hate when i feel creative up until right at the moment i decide to let it out.


my extremities are so cold. river is going to remember that growing up, his mother always had cold hands. the lights are all out, the doors are locked, i am craving something sweet, my hair is tangled as always, i have three huge mother fucking zits on my face, my dog sheds every where, the vacuum is broken, and i need a job. well, that's my life right now, at this moment. how very prosaic.


i think i came back because i realized that as simple as all that is, i am so happy with my life right now, crazy and confusing and frustrating and beautiful and average and plain and boring and and...


whatever. goodnight. :)