April 19, 2010

Roughing It

So...here I sit...camping (lettin' that seep in like sweet sunshine on the first spring day after a long cold, grueling winter ).........*Crickets...literal ones*.................Uh huh, I said it. Gonna say it again "camp-ing." However-please don't go getting any grand ideas. When I say that I am camping "out"... there are no tents on the frigid,muddy ground-home to the creepy crawlys. Truly-in my spoiled by fluffy, cotton candy pink convenience- baby of three girls- mind set-there are only three solid reasons for sleeping in the dirt...1. You've enlisted in the military and are reporting for incognito, outdoor undercover duties. Your double agent status commands it...Don't think Jason Bourne or James Bond get to toss back unbecoming assignment destinations. Or...Unfortunately you're injured and couldn't get up and dust off if you chose to. If this is you-hang in there- help is on the way. We will discuss how you are able to read this, but not phone for help at a later date. All one sided kidding aside...Wait! One more for my fellow OCD afflicted Grey's fans...Perhaps you collapsed scouring the woods for Mc Dreamy's mother's wedding band that he pitched into the woods a moment of perfectly coiffed and mildly unshaven broodiness...If fiction were ACTUALLY as close to the ACTUAL as it often seems? That would be a likely reason for a dirty earth siesta. Cruel really. 2. Perhaps your eyes were hypnotized by the alluring twinkle of the mischievous midnight stars. Entranced- you were lulled to a sweet dreamless sleep in the precise spot where you lay...on your fluffy comfortably worn-red paisley quilt...or...Similarly, huddled in coziness- your heavy lids slow to a blink-less stop...while you wait to greet the sun as it's finger-like rays faintly trace their way up the twilight dim of the sky and with a kiss of its golden lips bathes the world in glimmering, gilded light . 3. Finally, um...the final dirt nap. Really the ONLY time dirt sleeping isn't optional. Unpleasant yes...but a clear, unarguable reason for sleeping in the dirt.
Thankfully none of those describe me and so...if I am subject to camping by force-or in the least, against my will-aka each and every time I go:)...it is in a heated camper with running water and electricity:) for the shortest sentence necessary.

Being dramatic(stick with what ya' know)-truly camping has it's bonuses.

1. Breathtaking scenery that I unaffectedly catch un-awed glimpses of daily. Camped tonight in the "wilderness" literally twenty minutes from my house. That view includes violet hued mountains wrapping the site like cradling arms-a fishbowl clear blue lake, capped flawlessly by an infinite water color palette of sky.

2. Got to watch a whole-nearly uninterrupted movie...*pinching myself* OUCH!...yeah- I don't quite believe it either.

3. All the snacks you eat are fat free when roughing it. Sorta like the two state rule (or whatever that is)-only with queso and smores made from leftover pink Easter peeps*rubbing pink sugar from phone keys.*

4. My Monkeys look like grubby little extras from Annie and Oliver Twist in turn...and it is a losing battle between the junk food, grime and me chasing two steps behind with a wipe...So I get to tell my OCD what for...for a change:).

5. Nothing to do...please keep in mind that this is a short-lived positive...(this native tends toward restlessness). When I say "nothing" I mean nothing of consequence. Knitting, reading, listening to Pink and painting ones toenails describes a productive evening in paradise...er...camping.

So...the owl is hooting-the coyotes howling, and I will be lucky to get the equivalent of a night nap. The fresh open air seemingly doesn't agree with me. If reoccurring camping insomnia is at all indicative of my lungs' druthers? Stale house air is their Dom Perignon.

Sweetest dreams Prettys. Hope your downy bed is more enticing than this sofa turned bed-type-thing...It could be worse, I could be attempting slumber on the converted table...mmm....comfy...Not exactly a princess (via Princess and the Pea)- but you don't have to be fragile to feel a pole through particle board.

Dare to live the dream.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

April 16, 2010

Picking Your Battles or Picking a Fight

"The hardest battle you're ever going to fight is the battle to be just you."-Leo F. Buscaqlia

I tend to avoid wars. Not the huge, frighteningly realistic, big, political, bloody, literal wars- like the ones between countries and philosophies and religions...That is not the type of war to which i am referring.I abstain from the personal, emotional wars between myself and the people in my life. I am not a yellow bellied coward (would describe my skin as more... the 'color mocha'. As would Ricky Martin-Livin La Vida Loca...aye-yi-yiyi...*sigh* I HAD to have said that before-forgive me. Guilty pleasures-bygones....Also? Just fun to say 'yella bellied-"I'm gonna' shoot ya' down Jesse James"-Cher).

I WILL fight if I feel cornered and trapped, like I don't have options. And I certainly won't chew off my own foot to be free (cuz'? Ouch...and Not A Waitress Red...tastes awful-don't ask me how I know). Look out though- because I am apt to chew off someone else's foot if absolutely necessary. Really though? When facing a war-I generally opt to back slowly away. That however, only refers to the knock down, drag out, full on T-Bird-Jock style rumble...That is the only time intimidation, or cool heads...or whatever it is...prevail. It is the battle that I can't seem to walk away from...or refrain from rushing headlong into...or...may allegedly innately crave? Jury's out and descidedly unruffled by the details.

Going to depersonalize this pseudo-philosophy real quick...because I don't think it is just me. Think we all have this Shifty-Secrest-Type multi-personality disorder when it comes to conflict. The driving motivation behind our ultimately confusing and alternating passive aggressiveness/often full out scrappyness may be different...but we all do it...Every single self important one of us...Daily, sometimes hourly, occasionally instantaneously- we change our own personal rules of engagement (written in pencil of course). It's not intentional. Being the big full grown infants that we are...we get our hearts stepped on, our egos tromped, our confidence pinched...and depending...how tight our diaper is fastened that day...perhaps reliant on how warm and frequent our bottles...we act accordingly. None of us...especially me...like to feel like we are drawing the shortest straw. We don't voluntarily choose to allow anyone else be the boss of us. We hold fast-often justifiably...to the notion that we have earned the right to be the boss of ourselves...and when that "freedom" is threatened-when we feel that our individuality is in jeopardy? We bite back...sometimes drawing first blood. We certainly CAN be intimidating...backs arched and hissing...But is that what we really want? If we put those closest to us on the day to day defensive-aren't we truly creating the very atmosphere we are trying with such exaggerated futility to avoid? Yet...if we feel that someone is trying to bogart our "us-ness"...stifle our outgoing, independent, colorful, social butterfly, though often precocious inner child...is it suicide of the soul...to standby and watch it happen in the name of passivity?

If I had the answer...I would be Doctor CJ-faking a southern accent...and doling out cliched (for a reason), shiny headed, drawled wisdom like...

“It's better to be healthy alone than sick with someone else.”=Dr. Phil

All I know, is this...the line between picking my battles and picking a fight...is often erased or faded to near invisible oblivion by my big, clumsy-bully of a heart and choked out by my inner diva. And though I am not trying to duck responsibility, the heart of the matter...is my heart-in the matter. Not sure that made sense...but the shiny-stubborn...ugly-pretty, vulnerably lethal me...in me? At the end of the day...is what I have. It is the who...I am ultimately responsible for...and if you-or someone else has to lose a leg in the battle over my self preservation (even if I am not always lucid on EXACTLY who that is, or if in every second I feel she is worthy of the fight?) you should be certain that is a price you are willing to pay. Before you pick this battle...make sure the fight in your dog...can take my dog in the fight...or something.

Wow...done feigning deepness...Be a pal? Friends don't let friends... blog after 11pm on a Thursday night.

"I have had to fight like hell and fighting like hell has made me what I am"-John Arbuthnot Fisher

April 14, 2010

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