it's not in the woods and shit.

I have to repost something I just read on dooce.com. Because if any of you have an extended southern family anything like mine, you can imagine overhearing this conversation at pretty much any holiday gathering. she just happened to overhear it on a flight. here goes:


First guy: "Dude, you got Internet where you live?"

Second guy: "Um... what?"

First guy: "The INTERNET! You know, Google and stuff."

Second guy: "Dude, it's 2009. The Internet is everywhere. Of course I have it where I live."

First guy: "It's not everywhere, man. It's not in the woods and shit. They don't run those wires out into the middle of nowhere."

Second guy: "Okay, maybe not in the woods, but most people have access to the Internet."

First guy: "Or out in the ocean. I bet you can't get the Internet on a boat."

Second guy: "Well, see, they make these things where you can access the Internet wirelessly."

First guy: "Wire-what?"

Second guy: "Wirelessly. It works kind of like a cell phone. Do you know what a USB port is?"

First guy: "Dude, whatever. That's all future shit. Sounds like you're speaking Italian."

from avenues to apartments

I am an absolute cliché right now. I'm at the laundry mat, drinking a Slurpee and eating some terribly unhealthy chips that I just got from the 7-11 across the street. If that doesn't scream cliché-loser, I don't know what does. A year ago, I'm not sure if I could have imagined my life changing this drastically.

A year ago...
In the mornings, I use to walk into my luscious yard and cut fresh flowers from the front garden. Now, I am happy as hell just to have some extra cash to buy a bundle of tulips from the grocery. And you know what? Those tulips are magnificent.

I no longer have the conveniences of a washer/dryer, a modern kitchen or even a parking spot. I now have a laundry room down the street. Guess what? It causes me to get out in the neighborhood and chat with folks I would've never otherwise met. My kitchen? It's adequate. You know what? I can still cook just fine. And the parking spot? I am now the champion of parallel parking. Don't challenge me. You'll lose, sucker.

My weekends aren't spent running around, buying groceries, taking care of the pets, buying shit I thought I needed to maintain a house, taking care a yard that was ridiculously large and generally feeling like I don't have the time to fit in the things I needed to manage and take care, just so I could "live". Nope. Things are much simpler now.

My day to day life has changed in a big way. And let be clear- life isn't worse for me, just different. It's taken me 6 months to make that distinction between "worse" and "different", but man- it's a significant change in thinking.



Last week some intuitive feelings of something that was going on through my separation that were finally confirmed. Hearing that confirmation made me sick, then- rejoiceful. It's a bad feeling to have an instinct so strong, just to be told that you were crazy. Aren't instincts and intuition something else? From now on, I'm going to give those gut reactions a solid consideration.

I mention this development because it brought back such a strong memory to my mind- the day I knew that I needed to leave. I laid on my couch in my beautiful living room with our sparkling refinished floors in our adorable 1920's craftsman bungalow- and sobbed for hours. Snotty, ugly, sobbing while repeating to myself the same thing: I want out. I don't care about the stuff, I just want out.

There have certainly been days in the last year that I couldn't believe I gave up the things that mattered so much to me for so long. I have whined about leaving him the house, the pets, the beautiful chandelier (no one liked but me)... even the freaking waffle maker. I have felt like a loser- asking myself- How can I start again from here- my only belongings that fit in a 10x10 storage space?

What I know now: it all just doesn't really matter. None of it. Especially when your intuition is telling you so strongly that for some (or many) reasons, it's just not right.

One day, I'll have the "stuff" again. A home I own, pets, furniture I love, so on. I'll do it all over again. In many ways I already have started. It might not resemble what a home use to mean to me, in fact, it's close to the opposite.

Right now, I'll be thankful to be living the life that I deserve. A life that resembles more of what I dreamed about as a little girl- lots of laughs, good food, pretty flowers, a lumberjack husband and duck children (maybe not ALL of the life I wanted). I'm so thankful to be at the point that I know all of that will come again, and I'm willing to be a little patient for it.

For now, I'm just stoked to have 15 clean panties coming out of my 1.75 dryer.