Method to My Madness

It was fall. Warm days, cool nights. Life was good, bills were paid. Married a couple of years and yet still maddeningly in love, honeymoon style, for the most part. We had wonderful, well behaved, well adjusted kids. A nicely blended family of five, all survivors of previous marital failure. We had family, jobs, intelligence, love, sex, friends, security.  Sweet happiness.  We had what so many strive for yet so many piss away every day. What the fuck was I thinking? I still wonder.

It was not his first time. I knew this. I had seen him do it before and I did not like it. I was scared so I did not participate.  Scared because my Nanny said the stuff could kill you. Scared because I could see another heart attack in my 27 year old husband's future. Yes, another. The first was cocaine. Before us.  And I just knew meth would surely blow up that heart that poured so much sweet love my way. 

I yelled, I cried.  I begged and pleaded.  "Surely, you'll die!" I screamed.  "My Nanny said!" 

But, I had seen him and our friends snort lines a few times right before my very eyes and they were all still very much alive.  Every time they did they just laughed and had a good time, had the energy to party well after I had gone down.  Maybe Nanny was wrong.  After all, she did have me convinced  motorcycles were murdercycles until I was 10.  Nanny might be wrong. 

Maybe a little, just this once would not hurt.

Nothing good ever comes from that phrase.   Nothing!  Listen to your Nannys, Mimmies, and Grannys people!

So it was a Friday night in the fall, some years ago.  The kids were all at their other parents for the weekend, and we had a few friends over.  We were sitting around the kitchen table, playing cards, and catching up.  We smoked a little weed.  I did love me some gateway!  And drank a little beer.  You know, a usual Friday night.  (And no, Nanny did not approve of weed, but she had not scared the bajeezzas out of me about weed.)

Someone pulled out that little baggie and broke out a mirror and I joined the madness.  I leaned over the table and took my turn at the short straw.  Sucking that chunky, crystal-ly powder right up my nose like I knew what I was doing.  Holy hell, the burn.  It burned like crazy when it hit my sinus cavity.  My eyes watered and I almost cried.  What the hell had I done?  This hurts.  And then the drip.  The bitter, aspirin, borax like slow drain down the back of my throat.  Yuck.  But awesome.  I started to rev up.  My temperature rose and I soared.  I chain smoked like I was mad.  We laughed and talked, sometimes all at once.  All night long!  I sounded like Janis Joplin, all sexy voiced from smoking and rahrah-ing for hours.  Our friends departed at dawn and we settled in for hours of beautiful conversation and wild, uninhibited , crazy sex.  It was like falling in love, my first time was.  I was nervous and excited and anxious for the next time. 

I did not know I was falling in love with an abusive prick.  Crystallized evil.  The devil come powder.  Meth harrassed me and stalked me for years, just like an abusive lover.  Rarely giving me the pure pleasure it had that first time.  Truthfully, never did again.  What the fuck was I thinking?

After too many miserable and embarrassing, awful lost years to admit, we finally shook the soul sucking hold it had on us and have been clean two and a half years.  Amazingly, the family is still intact.  Scarred and forever changed.  Not so innocent.  But still together and building back the everything we almost destroyed. 

Just say no.  Some things just should not be fucked with.  Like the serpent in the garden.


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Snake Charmer

It was about ten at night when my mother came through the front door to our dark little house. I was five, my sister three, and we were sleepily stumbling behind her as she carried my brother, nine months old. My Dad was at work, the graveyard shift. Anyways, we were used to it. Mom was not a scaredy cat about being alone at night with just us kids. She was a real trooper, except when it came to SNAKES. To this day the woman will flip smooth the fuck out at the sight of any snake, even a teeny tiny green garden snake or a big earth worm. Mom will start screaming while hyperventilating while clumsily retreating when she sees a snake. I mean screaming like a mad woman with a crazy, psycho, contorted expression on her face while drunkenly running for her life. I have always been worried she would have a heart attack or stroke and fall over dead during one of these snake fits. Its painful and scary to witness and if snakes don’t scare you, her fits sure will.


But we were kind of used to these fits too because the house we lived in was old and had lots of places snakes could come in through. This happened a lot. However, snakes really should have been the least of their worries as the house was clad in awesome asbestos siding! Anyways, a few months before my mom had found a snake skin under my brothers crib, left behind by a fairly large molting snake. I’m really surprised she did not insist we move then, but she soldiered on a little longer.

Until that fateful night Mom flipped on the dining/living room light and spotted the snake under the china cabinet. And the fit commenced. She shoved the three of us to the other side of the room and ran to the kitchen where she grabbed the fully loaded knife block. She came exploding back into the dining area and started hurling knives at the snake like some crazy ass carnival act. The snake was coiled up and probably scared shitless. Not once did she hit it with about fifteen knives. So then, screaming the whole time, she grabbed the .22 rifle out of the corner where it stood with other loaded guns. (Hey, I’m from East Texas, need I say more?) Mom proceeded to unload the gun, probably 9 bullets, at the snake under the china cabinet. Finally it was dead. She left it where it lay and shaking like a leaf she scooped us up and hustled us out the door and back to grandma’s where we stayed til we found a new place to live, sans snakes.

The china and the cabinet were not harmed. In fact, I have the cabinet in my bedroom now, with my loaded 410 shot gun leaned up against it. Just in case. I learned from my momma about knife chunkin’, gun shootin’, and snake killin’!


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The Fashionista and the Banana

Embarrassing moments?? Where do I start? I know they started earlier, those character building moments, but this is my first most vivid recollection. Fifth grade, kings of the elementary, the coolest, oldest kids at the school. First week and I was styling high on my coolness, wearing a fitted black jumpsuit with awesome red piping around the cap sleeves, collar, and down the edge of the button down front. (It was the 80's) I felt all grown up. It fit perfectly but made me look even ganglier than I was. As usual my waist length red hair was flyaway but my little black mini wedge heels, almost flats, were super slick. So as I approached the cafeteria window to return my empty lunch tray I was feeling ever so cool, walking tall, walking proud. Until I wasn't. A freaking banana peel was in my path and combined with my slick shoes, I had no chance. One minute I was a fashionista queen of elementary prancing across the crowded cafeteria, and the next I was lying flat on my back in banana sludge and corn juice. Thank goodness I had eaten my tray clean. My head and ass slammed hard against the tile floor. It hurt good, but I did not cry. I held my tears and of course jumped up quick, checking to see if anyone else had seen me. And of course, they had. Even in a loud cafeteria the sound of my thick melamine tray and silver, not to mention my head, hitting the tiles made everyone turn and look. And then bust out laughing. Luckily, my skull, if not my dignity, was still intact.
I could never wear that jumpsuit again without reliving that day. But I did live and those moments just keep coming.

Check out the Great Experiment and these embarrassing moments as well as The Girl Who, an awesome blog:
http://thegirlwho.squarespace.com/

I hurt myself today

To see if I still feel

I focus on the pain

The only thing that's real

The needle tears a hold

The old familiar sting

Try to kill it all away

But I remember everything

Chorus:

What have I become

My sweetest friend

Everyone I know goes away

In the end

And you could have it all

My empire of dirt

I will let you down

I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns

Upon my liar's chair

Full of broken thoughts

I cannot repair

Beneath the stains of time

The feelings disappear

You are someone else

I am still right here

Chorus:

What have I become

My sweetest friend

Everyone I know goes away

In the end

And you could have it all

My empire of dirt

I will let you down

I will make you hurt

If I could start again

A million miles away

I would keep myself

I would find a way

More Beautiful Gatesville 

Delirious

I was going to post a most brilliant blog entry tonight, or last night rather, but I fucked around to long adjusting the settings, studying help articles, and downloading support software on my slow ass dial up connection. Now, I am more deliriously sleepy than brilliantly wordy. Yeah, and I could not come up with anything inspiring brilliance to write about. However, I was not just fucking off, I was tweaking the technical shit that goes along with a brilliant blog. And you may be surprised to learn, that although I am a brilliant writer and near genius in other matters (laugh all you want, you'll see), I am quite technically challenged. Gasp! Hard to believe, I know, but true none the less. I only started blogging like 4 months ago and know nothing about web design and page set up and whatever that computer code bullshit is. Thank God for templates, simple instructions and how to articles, otherwise I'd be lost. But, I am learning as quickly as a drunkenly delirious techno diva can. I think the ol' blog looks better now anyway. And I finally took the time to figure out how to post pictures, hence the last few posts of just damn fine photography and very little words. I was testing. And they are damn fine photos, if I do say so myself. Hard to believe, I know, but yes I am also a budding, brilliant photographer too. I have many more very good shots I could sit up all night posting, but I won't, because I am getting very sleepy and I must insert some words before I post more images.
Perhaps tomorrow I will write about the places in the pictures. Not tonight, or this morning rather. For now, I must take my sleep silly ass to bed and stop this bullshit babble. I will dream brilliant things to write about tomorrow. Sneer, snicker, laugh out loud. What the fuck ever! One day you'll see!

July in Rockport

 

Sweet Lou in Gatesville

 

Introduction to Gatesville

There we were, our first visit to Gatesville, Texas.
Breathtaking, green rolling hills, rocky white limestone.
Gracious good friends as our benevolent nexus,
To this place where the sun so magnificently shone.
Country so gorgeous, it perplexes.

Prior to our lovely sojourn, on hearing the town’s name,
Prison images, vague and ambiguous, were all that came to mind.
Such an unflattering association, what a misfortunate shame.
The depiction so deficient, misleading, painfully unkind.
Now we know, since we came.

Now, since our fortunate stay, in our minds we can see,
In our memories, lush green pastures and endless rolling hills.
Scrubby little cedars and tall oak trees blooming in beauty.
Warm water in deep creek beds, cool spring water that chills.
Peaceful breezes blowing free.

Venerable farm cottage, standing watch over it all.
Collecting memories for well more than a century.
Like the sweet grandmother we forgot to call.
Serenely, gracefully withstanding and resisting time’s injury.
Regally refusing to fall.

Even the children were not immune to the magic
Of the vast beauty we were immersed in at the farm.
Swimming in the creek, relaxing in the shaded hammock.
Feeding the goldfish in the cistern, absorbing the land’s charm.
To them, leaving was tragic.

To our most gracious good friends, Amy, Cindy, and Charlie,
We owe heartfelt thanks for their most generous invitation.
And to our hosts, the kind Doctor and sweet Mrs. Bailey,
Simple words are not enough to express our sincere appreciation.
Your welcoming us back left us all able to leave more cheerfully,
Knowing we can return without hesitation...
...To Beautiful Gatesville.

Beautiful Gatesville 

Tolerance in Texas

Last week voters in my state passed a ban on same sex marriages, but it did not pass with my vote. I almost forgot to vote, but I did, with thirty minutes to spare. There were nine constitutional amendments on the ballot, eight of which I knew nothing about. The only reason I voted was to vote against the ban on gay marriage. Although I was pretty certain the ban would pass I was still hopeful my fellow Texans would surprise me and vote with a compassionate heart and an open mind. Unfortunately that did not happen and for the first time in my life I am a little embarrassed and slightly ashamed to be Texan.

My strong conviction that same sex couples should be allowed the same rights as heterosexual couples has nothing to do with my personal orientation, as I am married to a man and hopefully will be with him the rest of my days. However, I will admit I am bi-curious and am attracted to women, but am quite inexperienced in relationships, both physical and emotional, with other women. Furthermore, my stand on the issue goes against my Southern Baptist upbringing and the beliefs of most of my family, friends, and community, most of whom would probably be surprised I felt strongly enough to go out and vote against it. Perhaps I should start vocalizing my opinion on the matter more, starting in my own circle. It may not do any good but then again it might, as I can be quite persuasive when I feel strongly about something. More importantly, there are two openly gay women among my friends and family that you would think everyone would have rallied support for and gone out en mass to vote against the ban. But, as I explained my upbringing, it is not suprising my friends and family are not so open and understanding of the lesbians amongst us, choosing rather to ignore their sexual orientation or view it as a phase. This, is to me, sadly unfair. I would like to think I will not be so close minded and ashamed if one of my children realizes they are gay. I pray they are happy, healthy, and successful, whether it be in a traditional relationship or same sex partnership. Naturally, I would prefer and worry less if my daughters brought home a stable, supportive, successful woman that loves them over an abusive, lazy, unloving man. Same thing goes for my son. My only concern would be the increased hardship such a relationship would bring them from an ignorant, judgmental, uncompassionate, and homophobic society.

Beyond that, I question the reasoning and intelligence behind such a ban. Do people really think that by discriminating against same sex unions and depriving them of legal recognition, that homosexuality will cease to exist? Homosexuality has been around as long as homosapiens and has survived far less tolerant times than these. History has proven how absurd and completely futile it is to think discrimination, persecution, and denial will cure anything viewed as defective human behavior or beliefs. Knowing this, as surely as we all must, society's continued denial of the feelings and basic rights of gays and lesbians is nothing more than spiteful meanness, childish as well as fruitless. Not to mention that it is not our call to make. My God is a loving, just, and tolerant God and I cannot bring myself to believe he would condone such intolerance. And He teaches 'Thall shall not Judge', leaving no doubt it is not our place to pass judgment on one another.

As far as our nation has come in the last century it is still obvious we have a lot further to go. I remain hopeful, however, that mankind will come around and one day same sex couples will be able to marry in all states, file taxes jointly as married, be on each others health plans, and collect widowers death benefits for one another, and not be afraid to disclose their sexual orientation for any reason. It was only a few decades ago that Rosa Parks infamously refused to give up her bus seat to a white man, thus starting a racial revolution that eventually brought equality to all races. That battle took years and I'm sure this one will too, but the fact that the issue even made it to a vote means the fight has already come a long way. In the grand scheme of things, aren't there far worse things in the world that we should concentrate on eradicating, such as hunger, poverty, illiteracy, drug abuse, and cancer? Think about it, pray about it, then do something about it, one compassionately more tolerant soul at a time.

Gay Marriage Ammendment

I almost forgot to vote today, but I remembered before the polls closed and ran by there about 6:30. There were no political offices being filled, just 9 ammendments of the state constitution to vote on. Honestly, the only one I was even aware of was the proposed constitutional ammendment to ban gay marriage. If it passes it would ban gay marriage and make marriage between a man and a woman the only legally recognized form of domestic partnership. I went to vote AGAINST this bull shit ammendment. I strongly believe gay and lesbian couples should be able to marry just like hetersexual couples. They should not be discriminated against and deprived of certain rights because of their sexual orientation. What we should be voting on is an ammendment that would legalize and recognize same sex marriages. And there is no reason it shouldn't pass either. Easier said than done though. I just hope the ammendment to ban same sex marriages doesn't pass.

The more I think about it, the more it pisses me off. And I'm not even lesbian. (Bi-curious though, I can't really say I'm bisexual because I haven't had that much experience with women).
But I should have the right to marry my girlfriend if I ever get one. And the way my current hetersexual marriage is going, I might be single again one day. I hope not, but he might not put up with me forever. And, damn it I should have the right to make my third husband a woman. Afterall, marrying men hasn't turned out so well for me. Oooh, I can finally get that strap on I've been wanting for years.

Reminder to the Mighty

Hurrican Katrina unleashed hell on sovereign soil. Is this our retribution for Iraq? For the first time in years the attention of the media is thoroughly trained on something besides the war in Iraq. Unfortunately, that something is somewhat of another war zone. This war zone is not on the other side of the world, but is within our borders, along the Louisiana and Mississippi Gulf Coast. Thousands of Americans have lost their lives and many more are still dying each day.
They say God works in mysterious ways, ways we may not always understand. Is it possible we have become so callous and indifferent to the tragedies in Iraq, that we needed and up close and personal reminder of the hell of war, because the situation in New Orleans is as close to the hell of war as our country has experienced on our own soil in more than a century.
Almost every one of us has been guilty of armchair quarterbacking the Iraqi war, criticizing the actions of our government and troops as well as condemning the violent reactions of the Iraqi people. We have come to view the people of Iraq as uncivilized animals for not bowing at the feet of the soldiers that destroyed their defective civilization and are now trying to build them a better one. Nature destroyed the peace and civilization of the Gulf Coast, not soldiers and bombs. Those there to restore it are local and fellow countrymen, not foreign military. Yet Americans are responding with anarchy and violence against our own.
Should this serve as a huge reality check, perhaps? If the people of the most civilized and mightiest nation on Earth, who have lived a relatively easy and peaceful existence by comparison, are reacting the way Katrina's victims are reacting, how else could we expect the people of Iraq to react to their situation? Human nature, regardless of race, creed, color or country of origin, can be as ugly as it is beautiful.
We are seeing both ends of the spectrum now; beauty in the selfless actions of the police, military and volunteers trying to help hurricane victims, and ugliness in the selfish actions of some of those victims and the price-gouging profiteers. Difficult times such as these truly test human nature, and unfortunately desperation breeds evil as well as good. To that end, we should all be reminded to have compassion for one another, for the rescuers and the victims, and the soldiers and the Iraqis. And regardless of whom you pray to, be it God, as I do, or Allah, or Buddha, or whomever your higher power may be, remember to pray for compassion, patience and understanding as well as for the strength and resources to end the suffering and restore peace here and abroad. Ultimately, we are one people in one world, and sometimes even the mighty need to be rescued.