Behind The Smile

Behind the smile

Lies hurt and pain

Fear and doubt

Take over again

The eyes twinkle

But they still cry

Inside they drip

No one knows why

The cheeks are rosy

Just like the heart

Beating in agony

As things fall apart

Life is happening

And all the while

She hides her thoughts

Behind the smile 

Not quite Howie Mandel . . .

I want what I want when I want it!

In my early life, I generally got what I wanted, when I wanted it.  Let's be honest, I wasn't asking for the moon and stars.  It usually involved a teddy bear or jewelry.  Shocker!  But I quickly learned what steps I needed to take to get what I wanted in life.  Or my super nice and super gracious parents rewarded me for my good behavior and hard work for my birthday, Christmas, or "Just Because". "Just Because" rewards are awesome! (side note:  I love my parents bunches.  The fact that they spoiled me is just bonus!)

As a person with OCD (read: Obsessive Control Disorder) [Yes, I know what it really stands for.] this general scheme of operating worked for me.  My actions controlled what I got.  Simple.  But as I've gotten older, this isn't as easy of a scheme as I'd like.  Now I don't control everything.  If I did, this world would be so much better.  (But that's info for another blog.)  I can't come up with an iron-clad plan for getting the next "whatever" I want.  Some of those "whatevers" are controlled by someone else.  Boo-hiss.  If that person is competent and sensible, I still get what I want.  So, I mean, that's okay.  I guess.  But when they operate and decide differently than I, it sends my OCD into overdrive.  This is compounded by the fact that I hate losing anything, let alone control (for lack of a better word) in more than one area of my life at a time.  Then I'm in full OCD Overload Mode.

This mode is scary!  Even for me.  I've developed my own coping skills.  Why my own, you ask?  Mainly because I've never actually seen a professional for this diagnosis.  [disclaimer:  You should see a professional for any real diagnosis or mental health issue.]   I digress.  When I'm in OCD Overload Mode, I become frustrated a lot easier, I eat more crap, and I vent to my friends even more than normal.

So in a nutshell, lately I've been an irritable, fatty, blabbermouth. :)  The end!

. . .but you can still touch me.  I mean, if I give you permission.

Run Forrest Run!

I Run

I run.

I run to get away

I run to make a way

For my body to express

The words left unsaid.

I run to feel my body

I run to be somebody

Who stretches and believes

I will get what I need.

I run to be new

I run to renew

My mind and my spirit

Listen can you hear it?

I run to be

I run to see

I run for me

I run and I am free

I run!

Mother's Day: May 10, 1998

I wrote this in May 2009.  It was the first time that Mother's Day was on May 10, since the event of this poem.  Since it's May 10th and Mother's Day weekend, I wanted to share here on my blog.

Mother’s Day: May 10, 1998

I remember the blood
I remember the fright
I remember waking up
In the middle of the night

It was 3 AM
It was screaming in the hall
It was the worst Mother’s Day
The worst of them all

It made me sad
It made me cry
It made me wish
She didn’t have to die

We watched her die
We watched her close her eyes
We watched them take her away
And we prayed for everyone’s lives

All that time her blood poured out
All that time for the ambulance to arrive
All that time and they didn’t come
To save the girl; keep her alive

Monday at school they talked about it
Monday at school I wasn’t perfect and didn’t care
Monday at school I got sick and left;
Went home and faced the stairs

Every day I remembered the blood
Every Mother’s Day I remember them
Every time I see a fight
I pray it doesn’t turn out as grim

Two new mothers on Mother’s Day
Two girls in a stupid fight
Two babies at home asleep
More than one life was changed that night

A lot was said
A lot was done
A lot was seen
But who won?

Grey's Anatomy

The Cure

Hit your knees

Say the words

Wait and see

It all works

Eyes lock

In open space

A twinkle or smile

A happy place

The invitation

The expectation

A good time

And first embrace

A broken record

You don’t care

It’s a soft comfort

Always there

Hit your knees

Say the words

Smile and know

It did work

Humpty Dumpty

Broken

I didn’t know

The pull of love

Until

It pulled me down

I didn’t feel

The pain of loss

Until

Pain I found

I didn’t want

The tears to come

But

Tears, they did fall

I didn’t want

My heart to break

But

It’s broken, soul and all

Pretty in Pink

I grew up in the 80's and 90's loving John Hughes movies like everyone else.  But unlike many other girls my age, I was not obsessed with pink.  I was obsessed with being perfect.  I've tried to figure out where this perfection need came from, without much success.

I'm sure it does not surprise you to find out that I'm NOT perfect.  And while I made great strides and had generally great successes in most things, there are two areas where perfection was (and is still) hard to attain.  The one I'll discuss here is my inability to judge male romantic (for lack of a better word) opinions about me.  Oh, I'm great at dictating the love lives of strangers and friends.  I can detect and ascertain how many different types of people feel about one another.  However, when it comes to me. . .it is a sad state of affairs.

I've hoped that over the years I've learned and grown from past mishaps in this area.  I'm not an idiot.  I know when the super cheesy dude is hitting on me.  I'm talking about the "real possibility" interest here.  I never know when I'm "just one of the guys" or "potential interest".  Men have told me years later of their past interest in me.  While flattering, it doesn't help.  Why didn't these men ask me out?  There have been a few explanations given.  But nothing definitive.  You know "I thought you were interested in someone else", or "I liked a bunch of girls at the same time, I didn't know who to choose", or the best of them all "I didn't want to ruin our great friendship."  I don't know about you, but I'd love the guy I date and eventually marry to be someone I have a great friendship with.  Haven't they seen "Some Kind of Wonderful"?  I guess that's why I have this blog.  So that some type of enjoyment can come out of my dating mishaps and missed snaps. :)

Raise your glasses, cheers to more blogging and a John Hughes ending at some time in my future.

(Note:  This post was much funnier in my head before I started writing.  Then as I wrote, it just seemed blah.  Oh well, here it is anyway.)