"Take your time, girl."

The first week of my official new life in Texas has proved to be heavy with heat and humidity. It makes me feel like I need to take a shower each time I come in from going outside. Drastic weather hasn't kept me from being super busy as always. Since Adam came to be with me in Texas this week, I've been juggling everything; the welcomed responsibility of taking care of his unruly 5 yr old attitude full-time, work at the coffeehouse, devoting at least 3 hours a day to work on the memoir, Ryan time, and Red Cross training. I have to work really hard to make sure I utilize the time in my day as efficiently as possible, so I started planning my days out hour-by-hour. It's proven to be the only way I'm not totally lost (yet).

Saturday, after the shelter simulation training course I had with the Red Cross, I came home to an empty house. No Adam, since he was in Oklahoma visiting his dad, no brothers, no Ryan. I wasn't sure what to do with myself. I sat down and tried to write but my mind went blank. I listened to music, though it felt more like sitting in silence because no one was here. It was a strange feeling. I began thinking about the busy week I just went through and started to wonder if I could stick with my schedule for the next few months. Then the anxiety kicked in, followed by the fear that I wasn't going to be able to take care of everything.

I'd already been through severe anxiety earlier in the week when I went to work and entrusted my little brother to take care of Adam while I was gone. I've come to realize that most of the worry I feel is rooted in losing so much last year, that I have a subconscious phobia that it will happen that dramatically again. Call it paranoia, PTSD, whatever. The anxiety and worry is real to me. Real enough that everyday I got off work this week, I literally ran out the door to get home to make sure Adam was okay.

And everyday I came home, he was perfectly fine.



So as I sat at my kitchen table alone on Saturday afternoon, thinking about the week, I began to ask myself what I could do to start getting past the anxiety. I remembered the letter I received on Friday from my surrogate father in Louisiana. The phrase he repeated in his note was, "Take your time, girl."

"Time..time...time...Hmmm...." I pondered the concept of time by myself for the rest of the day. I couldn't tell you why, but I started to get somber thinking about time, so I got in the shower, hoping to shake off the melancholy. It worked, and Ryan text me telling me he was coming over, which made me even happier.

Meet Ryan<3

About ten minutes or so after Ryan's text, my little brother called me from my mother's house in Oklahoma.

JOEY: (Whispering) Hey Beth...what are you doing???
LIZ: Nothing. Why are you whispering?
JOEY: I'm outside. I don't want mom to hear me.
LIZ: What's wrong? Is everything okay?
JOEY: I'm worried about mom.
LIZ: Why?
JOEY: Well...she was up past 3am this morning...and she keeps taking care of stuff
around the house. You know... she's supposed to me moving, not working on the house here.
LIZ: Yeah, I know. She's still grieving dad. It's going to take some time for her
to start working through it. Just try to spend time with her while you're there and
offer to help her out when she starts doing stuff around the house.
JOEY: Okay. I've just never seen her like this.
LIZ: I know. It's normal though for the most part. She's just lonely since dad passed away.
She has to start working through the grief though and talk about it because the reason she can't
sleep is because she can't get it out of her head. But you can't force her to talk about it. It's going
to take time Joey, and truthfully, she might not ever get over it. That's just how it is sometimes.
JOEY: Okay. I'll talk to you later.
LIZ: Okay, call me if you need anything. Okay?
JOEY: Okay. Talk to you later. (JOEY hangs up his cell phone.)

It suddenly hit me; the idea of time, and taking time. I realized that one of the reasons I kept myself busy was to avoid sitting around and thinking about my own grief. This is a catch 22. In some ways it's highly beneficial to me, (particularly my career goals), but when I wasn't busy I had time to think about everything I've been through and lost in the past few years, namely 2009.

Take your time, girl.

Melancholy returned almost instantly. Then Ryan knocked at the door. I tried to forget about the things that stick in my brain; the grief and the loss that hangs around like the humid summer air in Texas, even after the sun sets. I couldn't. I considered trying to talk to Ryan about it, but I remembered that he once told me how his last serious girlfriend was constantly depressed and how she stressed him out. I didn't want him to think of me like that, so I did my best to keep my mouth shut until bedtime.

LIZ: You like me a lot, don't you?
RYAN: Of course I do.
LIZ: Even if I'm all fucked up?
RYAN: You're not fucked up.

I know I should take my time in getting through my own grief, but I wish I could snap my fingers and make myself 100% better, now. I want to be 100% ++++ when I'm with Ryan and I think he deserves that. He's one of the most amazing men I've met in my lifetime and he means the world to me.

Take your time, girl....

But how much time?

Forever is a long time when you've lost your way.

I don't consider this the happy ending.

The trip to Oklahoma last week went amazingly well. I found a kind of peace I've never felt in my 26 years on earth. The sudden release of anxieties made me feel like I just won the Hot Ball jackpot after years and years of buying lotto tickets that never hit. LUCKY, that's how elated and hopeful it was to close this chapter, (particularly the last year spent in Oklahoma). I realize I've been given the chance to live my life how I want this time around; to be good to myself and my family, to give and do for others and to stop taking things for granted. I feel confident that every single dream and goal I have for my life can now become my reality.


The best part of it all is that I'm sharing my reality with the purest, most unconditional and sacred love I've ever known in my life. He shared and survived Oklahoma and 2009 with me and is the reason we're breathing today.

Adam<3.

will you tell me the little things?
                what does god look like,
and angel's wings?

i don't remember these things
so would you please teach them to me

 

and when you wake up in the morning
             and i pour the coffee,
                 you're always smiling, sweetly.

I trust with every piece of me that Adam and I can break the curse; the repetitive cycle of hate, violence, and un-natural Death, that's been stalking our family since my brothers and I moved to Oklahoma in 1990. I know things won't always go as planned and life is ultimately passing time until we die. At least now, passing that time can be peaceful and joyous to the fullest extent possible.

No more living like we're dead. We're living like we're dying.

My only regret is that my father didn't believe the curse was unbreakable and he gave up too soon. I'd do anything for him to be with us. Even if it was only for today, so he could see how happy we are and he could experience that happiness with us.
He could pass knowing love was something real.

You don't know the truth.
I love[d] your life.

This sounds like it should be the end, but it's not. I don't consider this the happy ending.
I consider it the happy beginning.

"I've never seen anything like it in my entire life."

After a night of tornadoes, I made it to Oklahoma safely. Barely. The story of Oklahoma, for me, is a tragic story of bare minimum survival, so it only seems fitting to return to finish the final, unclosed chapter of this state this way, in the midst of tumultuous, life-threatening storms.

I microblogged the adventure today on Facebook, Twitter and Myspace.

The best part about being back this time is catching up with my BFF Brandi. Its been awhile since we really had a chance to sit down and update each other on our lives. She was literally trembling when I saw her and for a second I thought she was going to cry. I thought I was going to as well. When we hugged the moment I got off the train, it was a whirlwind of emotions that matched the swirling of the majestic clouds; clouds so supernatural, and golden outlined by the sun. They were regal enough that you would've sworn Greek Gods that controlled the weather patterns lived within their coral airbrushed puffiness; delicate, but courageously sized.

"I've never seen anything like it in my entire life", Brandi said, and the hug we shared felt like, "Thank God you're here and we're still alive."

There was something extremely symbolic about the event I could hardly contain myself. I think it has something to do with dreaming last night that I was stranded in a house by myself and the tornado sirens went off as I was in this two-story dream house. I looked out the window and saw a black wall cloud tacked up against a green air canvas and saw a tornado funnel forming. I called Ryan (in the dream) to tell him about it because he wasn't with me.

So yesterday morning when I woke up from the dream, before leaving for Oklahoma, I immediately told him about it. I said, "Why can't you just skip work and come with me so I don't have to call you to tell you about how bad the weather is." Then this evening, on the Amtrak headed to Oklahoma, I called him to...well...tell him about the bad weather.

Looking back on this time last year and looking within myself, the transformations I've gone through, my friends and family have gone through...the transformations our lives have gone through together [and apart], I have to agree;

I've never seen anything like it in my entire life.

YOU gave me more to live for
more than YOU'LL ever know

Deathbed Confessions

Since I'll be out of town and may not get the chance to post, I thought I'd pull something fun out of the archives until I get back.

+DEATHBED CONFESSIONS+

What's your last meal?
Hawaiian Pizza.

While you were alive, what did you spend the most money on?
Family, friends, other people, alcohol, cigarettes, and countless other vices.

What book do you most regret not finishing?
Dreams From My Father by Barrack Obama.

What's the wildest thing you ever did?
I got married once.

If you could come back and spy on someone who's still alive, who would it be?
I didn't realize you had to be a stalker in your afterlife.

Name one thing you're glad you'll never have to do again on Earth.
Pay bills.

What is your proudest accomplishment?
Finding out who I was before I died. Oh, and having my writing work published [posthumously].

What is your biggest regret?
Not finding out who I was earlier in my life. I kind of feel like I missed out on a lot during those, "Who the fuck am I?" years.

When were you happiest?
Anytime that was spent with Adam, my family and friends. Close runner ups would be during President Clinton's terms in office, then again when President Obama became the first black/minority president.

What are people saying over your coffin?
I can't believe she actually asked them to play Mr. Roboto at her funeral. Those strobe lights and lasers were INTENSE.

Are there any last words you'd like to share with the world?
Don't take shit for granted, EVER, and find out who you are before you die.You never know when it's going to be your last day on earth. Also, you have to try an Iced Apple Chai at some point in your life. You'll Domo Arigato me for it later.

Ponder the idea that "mop" is a funny word.

Skip to the end
Exhausted bodies in bed
Falling asleep with the lights on
Skip the "you don't understand"
Skip the "you're such a petty man" 

Today's the day. I still have some laundry to finish and I need to pack. Packing seems to be the easy part since I'm on the go 24/7, and half my stuff is packed already. Just a few things on the to-do list before I head out.

      The TO-DO List

• Call Red Cross and ask about CPR training course
     -Print out Red Cross apps for Patrick and Ryan.

• Clean house
  -Mop kitchen floor

• Ponder the idea that "mop" is a funny word.
  
  
  

This is my once.

Gearing up for another trip to Oklahoma. As always, I'm a little nervous. If I had a handful of Valium, trust that before I went to bed, those little pills would be swimming around inside of me with a few shots of rum.

My older brother, Patrick, is off work today and he said we would barbecue in the backyard this evening. Ryan is coming over after he gets off work tonight. Maybe going to Oklahoma will be different this time, because those are both positive activities to take part in right before I leave, so good vibes just have to follow me on my way there, right?

The book of my last year of adventures in Oklahoma is coming to its close on the final chapter. This means that the memoir I'm writing has a direction now. That's exciting and makes me anxious at the same time. I have to admit, there are days when I look back on everything and I fall into those negative patterns of blame and self-loathing and I say to myself;

If there is good in the world, WHY WHY WHY did I, and the people I love most of all have to go through all of that??? What did we possibly do to deserve that state of fate? None of us are truly that deep in karmic debt...

Don't worry, I realize that's all neither here nor there.

I don't ever ask for much. I do that on purpose, for times like these. Because there will always be a time in everyone's life when they have to ask for help, at least once. No one truly exists solely on their own. It's kind of like that whole theory, if a tree falls down in the woods and no one's around to hear it, does it actually make a sound? The same thing applies to life. If no one is around to know you truly exist, do you actually exist? How can anyone truly exist if you never interact? Isn't that what existing is all about. Living...isn't that what living is?

There will always be a time when you have to ask for something, at least once.
Well...this is my once.

 Keep me free from burden

Give me HOPE
Help me cope

Give me light
Give me LIFE

        Give me Love
Give me peace on earth

"Now jump," they say, in a not-so-Van Halen-ish way.

Imagine that you are petrified of heights. Now imagine that you're dining on top of a skyscraper, having dark chocolate truffles for desert with your significant other's family. And you LOVE dark chocolate. Your significant other left something in the car, and goes back downstairs to retrieve it. So now you're alone with the entire family, who have suddenly decided to get up from the table and walk over to the edge of the building.

"Come over here and take a look", they say, "its not so bad."

You want to impress them and your hands are already sweating like crazy. You take a deep breath, rejoice to yourself that dark chocolate was part of your last meal, and saunter over to the edge to join them.

"Now jump," they say, (in a not-so-Van Halen-ish way).
"What? I don't want to", and you try to remain calm, though your heart feels like its going to rip your chest open and run to find the nearest, safest exit.
"It will be okay", and they actually smile as they reassure you.

Keep in mind you just met these people today. In my case, I met them yesterday.

~

I thought I was going to have to work Sunday, but thanks to my Bulgarian co-worker, Vladmir, I didn't have to go in yesterday. Call it coincidence, (or as I prefer, a win-win) that I asked him to work for me at the coffeehouse and he gladly accepted, as he needed the extra hours because his second job didn't schedule him this week. With the day off, I finally got the opportunity to spend Sunday with Ryan's dad, step-mother and little brother, meeting them for the first time.

We spent the majority of the day at their home having dinner playing Scattergories, and eating chocolate truffles. As we were coming close to saying goodbye, Ryan excused himself from the table and went outside. Then his step mother began asking me about Adam.

"I don't know how you can be away from him", she said.
"I can't", I explained, "I'm going back to Oklahoma to see him in a few days", I said."What are you going to Oklahoma for?" she asked me, sincerely.

This is the part where I started to feel a little dizzy. Do I give her the generic answer or do I tell her the truth? She's being so nice and seems genuinely interested in me, and now Adam for that matter...

"I've have to go to court," I blurted out.

Sometimes my mouth reacts before my brain has time to process anything rational. Ryan's father and little brother, who were both heading upstairs, suddenly turned around. Now the entire family was sitting in front of me. What the fuck is taking Ryan so long? I thought to myself, searching for a way to get out of the mess my mouth just made. I wanted to run but I couldn't.

"What do you have court for?" she asked, as his father and brother eagerly waited for my response.

So I threw all of my inhibitions to the wind and told them the truth. All of it. Every embarrassing, heart-breaking, gory detail I survived, from start to finish of last year to present. Two deaths, one homicide, and a protective order later, they were still sitting in front of me. I was astonished. Surely they would've ran by now, I thought.

"So this is why I'm here in Texas. This is why I devote myself to everything I love. I realize now how fast life can change and in some cases, be taken from you in a matter of seconds. I don't want to live my life ever regretting a single thing. Ever." I concluded.

It was silent for a few minutes while everyone finished digesting the chocolate truffles and the  information I just shared.

"Ryan's sister tried to stab him one time. Yup, I bet the knife mark is still in the refrigerator outside", his dad said.

It sounds even more insane, but I realized from his father's statement, he was letting me know that no one's life is perfect and that I wasn't flawed, nor was he going to outcast me for the events in my life. It reminded me of another man's wisdom; "No one man's problems are bigger than any other man's problems."

Ryan' family walked us outside as we were leaving, saying goodbye.

"Yup, it was right... around...here", his father said, showing me with his hands where the knife marks had been cut into the refrigerator. "Guess the rust has worn over it, so you can't see it very well, but there it is", he assured me.

I looked at Ryan's father and laughed as he smiled at me.

~

Back to the edge of the building....

You decide, Why the hell not? You've got nothing left to lose. So you jump. You feel a sense of panic in your fall, like you're going to meet your own death in the most crushing way possible. Instead of your end, your significant other catches you and you feel an unidentified sense of release you haven't felt...ever.

"See that wasn't so bad", your significant other says. And it wasn't a lie, it wasn't so bad. Nothing seems impossible now.

You feel lucky that you can trust again.

I was feeling part of the scenery

I walked right out of the machinery

My heart going boom-boom-boom

"Hey", he said, "grab your things

I've come to take you home."

--Peter Gabriel/Solsbury Hill

One disaster and day at a time.

Yesterday was a crappy day. First of all I had to go back to work at the coffeehouse, and I pretty much hate anything that doesn't have to do with my ultimate goal of happiness. But whatever, I sucked it up and was happy to find out, once I got there, that I was working with Casee and Vladmir. That was until Casee decided to tell me that we were the team chosen to work the next few days because of some event going on in the hotel that owns our shop. All I heard after she told me this was, You're scheduled to stay late for the next four days. Sorry we're telling you this now, our bad...You didn't have any other plans, right?

I was mad to say the least. There wasn't much I could do about it, except for fume, which is exactly what I did for the rest of the day. As I realized how my behavior can be during times like these, I did my best to keep to myself, so I didn't sacrifice anyone who may accidentally step into my war-path. I text Patrick since he was planning to meet me right after my shift, and Ryan, because...well... that's just common courtesy when you're dating someone. Especially when you've made a routine of talking to each other after you get off work.

Of course, with my brother I vented and let him know how stupid I thought staying open later was, and how rude it was that they decided to tell me the day of said stupidity. My brother, being my biggest fan, joined me and it was viva la revolucion for the rest of the day through text and when he came in the shop. Bad days become not-so-bad days when someone goes through it with you. He does the exact same thing with me when he has a shitty day at work. I consider it not only my loving sibling duty, but a Good Samaritan act to make his bad days at work better, considering he actually has the power to fire people at his job.

With Ryan, I kept it short. Not even sweet, just short and to-the-point. I didn't want him to see me at my worst, and since he was at work, I knew he couldn't do anything to alleviate the crappy time I was having.

Then the Colombian valet from Del Frisco's came into the store. "Why you still open?" he asked.
"Because the hotel manager is a jerk", I replied with a smile.
"What is... jerk?" he inquired, naively.
"How about you tell me what its like to grow up in Columbia again", I quickly changed the subject.

I made his latte as he regaled me with another tale of his home country. This has become a game of ours, where he tells me a Colombian story and in exchange, I give him a free cup of coffee. Half the fun is trying to decipher what he's trying to say through his thick, Spanish accent. Ten minutes and a half-drank grande latte with an extra shot of espresso later, he's out the door, amped up and ready to run for the rest of his shift, parking cars he and I only talk about owning someday.

But something different happened yesterday. My Colombian friend came running back toward the shop. He's only done this once before, so I grabbed another empty cup and began to pull the extra extra shot of espresso he needed. He pushed open the door and entered again.

"Hey, long day for you too already", I asked, and caught the shot, and held it out for him to take.
"No, no", he motioned with his hand and panted. "For you", he said, mildly out-of-breath, and he pulled out from under his rain poncho, a black take-out box, and placed it on the counter in front of me.

He smiled and I smiled.

"I go back now", he said.
"Thank you", I told him, impressed, and he ran back out the door again.

I stood there for a minute with the espresso shot still in my hand, which Vladmir gladly took from me. "That was really nice of him", I said to Vladmir, hoping he would justify the power the valet had over my boyfriend's to brighten my shitty day. I avoided talking to Ryan the rest of yesterday evening as I stayed upset that I was going to be working late all weekend. It kinda hit me then, and even more so today as I woke up and remembered that he tried to call me last night.

I text Ryan the moment I opened my eyes and saw the phone laying next to me in bed. Good morning, hope your day goes well xoxo He called me a few minutes after I sent the text. Hey what's the deal with your work?...I'm sorry I'd be mad too. ..We'll grab some dinner tonight after you get off work and go from there..

I should have told Ryan what was bothering me from the start. Its hard for me to do that sometimes, especially because I don't want him to see me as bitchy, or weak and vulnerable, and find me unattractive. But where are we going to go if he doesn't see me for all of me? My brother and the Colombian aren't the only people capable of being there for me on a bad day.

All I had to do was open the door and let Ryan in.

I'm learning how to, one disaster and day at a time.

5/12/2010 2:03pm [Or so I'm assuming.]

It happened just a few minutes ago while I was upstairs, windows and doors all open. I do this every now and then and my brother never knows about the crime I commit, because as long as I do it only once, the wind sweeps out the evidence and he doesn't know the difference. Lazily propped up in bed, with some pillows against the wall, I was breaking a house rule by smoking inside. Then I felt it against my back before I actually heard it. It was strong enough to penetrate through the pillow padding and I felt like I was being assaulted from behind.

BangBangBang on the upstairs door.

I felt panic and shuddered at its abrupt, unwelcome tone. Who would be coming over this afternoon? I thought. Ryan's at work, rent is on time [to my knowledge]...I fought through my fear and made myself get up and walk to the door. Almost as abrupt as this visitor's presence, I realized the irony in how unsafe it was to have a house so open. I could hear my brother's voice saying, I told you to keep the house locked for a reason, even when you're inside of it. There wasn't a time machine nearby to help me correct my mistake, so I met and stared in the face of my destiny.

My destiny took the persona of a middle-aged hispanic male with short black hair and a mustache, wearing a dirty black baseball cap. I didn't recognize him, that's for sure. I remained calm though I didn't feel calm at all on the inside, especially since his banging on the door demanded something instead of asking politely. What did this man want? Over and over in my head, I kept asking. I pushed open the unlocked screen door and wondered for a moment if he realized how open the house was, entirely.

"Do you need your grass cut?" the man asked.
"No", I replied.
"Okay, well we were just seeing if you needed your grass cut", and he continued to stand on the balcony.
"No I'm sorry", I apologized, and I shut the door.

He began walking back down the stairs. I closed the other door on top of the screen door and locked it. I thought it was odd that the man used the upstairs door instead of the door downstairs, and that he didn't have any lawn tools with him or downstairs in the driveway. And who was this we he was speaking of, as he was the only person who was there visiting.

Or so I'm assuming.

I put out my still lit cigarette in the ashtray on my windowsill and promptly took them both outside.

Not seeing the rip doesn’t mean you automatically
get to keep clear of the Hey-I’m-Bleeding part.

--Mark Z. Danielewski/House of Leaves

...to sleep.

Am I an idealist? Too sensitive?
Yes and absolutely.

Long story short, Ryan and I got into our first argument, or rather, our first sincere clash of opinions last night. It was well overdo, I mean, it had been almost two months without disagreement, something was bound to give. He racks up major points for communicating well with me. But even in the midst of all that communicating last night, then his drunk roommate coming home and talking about Lou Diamond Phillips, we never really resolved anything. But at least the issue was out there on the table, and that's more than I can say for most, literally and figuratively speaking.

I thought maybe if we just moved on to talking about something else, the issue would resolve itself. He thought the same thing too, and he gladly obliged to top my story of telling him something personal I was proud of, with giving me way too much information about the hottest girl he's ever seen...

That girl wasn't me.
So last night I nearly cried myself to sleep. 

LIZ SWEETLY: So what would you do?
JOE DARKLY: You already know the answer to that.
AK 47: (Nods in agreement with JOE DARKLY's statement.)

Not asking how, but when do we start.

Today was my day off, and I slept in this morning until 11am. How terrible, right? I'm paying for it since I'm still in bed, drinking coffee and trying to wake up. I don't care though, because I feel 100 times better. I've got to admit, since I decided to embark on the back-to-the-past adventure of writing a memoir, my mind has been obsessed with picking up everything from the past year, deciding which memories are disposable and which ones are reusable. I'd include everything in my memoir, for content's sake, but that's impossible. Either way, its kept my recycle bin mind in busy mode.

Last night I asked Ryan to read what I had written so far, titled, The Prologue: SOUTHWESTERN MEDICAL CENTER. This is another one of those risks, another extension of self hoping to intertwine with the peace offerings he's already given to me. These invitations to read, critique and edit my memoir leave me exposed and vulnerable to him. From doing this, I see how he provides feedback, either positively or negatively, so I can gauge my trust in him. So far he's been open and honest, and seen more than I've been capable of seeing, in the things I've been embarrassed to share. He doesn't over-inflate or shred apart what I give him, both the pieces of my writing and the pieces of myself. 

Its different this time, rehashing the disasters of 2009 and estimating the total damage done. Instead of blankly staring at the destruction, he's assessing the mess and sees something beautiful and salvageable. He's kind of like the habitat for humanity of my heart, standing in front of me eagerly with hammer and nails in hand, not asking how, but when do we start.
 
There's something to be said about not feeling like you're the only person who sees HOPE as something real.



JOE DARKLY: So since his family is Mormon, does that mean you're going to become a Mormon too?
LIZ SWEETLY: No way! He's not even a practicing Mormon himself. I'd do lots of things for love, lots of things for romance, but I won't do that.
JOE DARKLY: So that's what Meatloaf was talking about.
LIZ SWEETLY: Exactly.

How to lose a cat and shatter glass on a Friday, in less than 30 minutes.

When I signed up for to work with the Red Cross, I didn't anticipate I would be working in the department of disaster response. After the initial orientation and discussing my placement with my supervisor, she suggested the disaster team would be a great area for me to volunteer my skills.

"Your empathy will help so many people!" she gushed.
"Sure!" I replied. "I'll help out where ever you need me the most. Besides, disaster response is my specialty these days."

The key word in the previous statement is response. To understand, let's take a look at the word response. The word response means to answer or reply. Simple. I can answer and reply to disaster just fine, as it only requires you to acknowledge. In this case, acknowledge said disaster. Easy. I can spot disaster like a Navy Seal sniper can see threats 100 miles away in complete darkness. But when I spot disaster in my scope, I hesitate what to do next. Do I shoot it? Capture it? Radio another sniper to take it out? Run? Act like I didn't see anything and go on with my life? There are so many different ways to deal with it.

I might be great at response, but I discovered yesterday that I'm still learning how to cope with the aftermath of disasters, particularly post 2009.

~

The realization of the status of my coping skills came Friday afternoon while I was at Ryan's house and he was at work. First of all, I was elated because he trusted me enough to leave me in his house alone. My girlie mind told me this was the start of him learning to trust me.

He was taking a risk and taking a chance on me.

Of course I didn't want to disappoint him, so I did my best to keep the house clean and made use of my time in solitude. I say solitude, but I wasn't alone, entirely. Eli (Ryan's roommate) was out of town, and Sassy, Eli's cat, was in the house with me. Sassy hasn't been spayed, so she's in heat, constantly trying to escape."Whatever you do, don't let Sassy out," Ryan instructed before he left. "I won't. I promise," and I kissed him in an effort to put his mind at ease.

The afternoon went by smoothly, and I stayed busy, working outside on the back porch and writing my memoir. Ryan called to check in with me around 5 o' clock. After we hung up, I got ready so we could leave for dinner when he came home from work. As I was applying mascara in front of the bathroom mirror, I couldn't help but anticipate his arrival home.

This is gonna be SO awesome! He'll get home from work and see that his house and still here...and I'll be here to give him a welcome home kiss...and Sassy's still here... and nothing is broken...and he'll trust me. Speaking of which, where is Sassy? I haven't seen her in awhile. She's probably still on that chair in Ryan's room.

I finished applying my mascara and changed. Then I got all my girlie products together and walked into Ryan's bedroom to find my go-bag so I could put everything away. I glanced over at the chair and Sassy wasn't there. Since he would be back soon, I wanted to find her before he got home. I started walking around the house calling, "Here kitty, kitty, kitty! Sassy!" This went on for about 10 minutes, and I started to feel panic. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty" calls turned into, "Where the fuck are you? You fuckin' cat!" demands. I looked everywhere for her. My search and rescue proved unsuccessful. Then Ryan came home.

"I'm in trouble, I'm so sorry, I can't find Sassy anywhere. She may have gotten out while I was outside." I admitted to him.
He immediately asked, "What?! Are you serious?! Where did you see her last?! I knew this would happen!" 

It was the first time I heard him sound panicked and mad.

He started frantically looking for her all over the house, in all the rooms, then into in the backyard. I went scouring the front yard in an effort to try and help. Nothing. No Sassy. Not even a neighborhood cat around that I could catnap to replace her. I could tell Ryan was upset, which made me nervous. Out of force of habit from a former relationship, my immediate reaction was to go to the bedroom and sit down on the bed. I thought Ryan was going to scream and yell at me.

This was how I learned to survive when I made a mistake.

Ryan walked into the bedroom, and I felt a creepy chill start at the back of my neck and fall down my spine. He said, "I have to call my mom and tell her we're going to be late," then he walked back into the living room. Even though I didn't think he would actually hurt me, I could feel my heart racing nervously and I stayed silent. The silence was interrupted by a loud crash and I flinched. Something broke. It sounded like glass shattering. I didn't know if I was having a flash back or if the sound was caused from him breaking something because he was angry.

I wanted to get up, but I didn't move. It was a risk I wasn't ready to take.

So I stayed in the bedroom and tried to calm my inner fear so I could think of how to solve this without him breaking up with me, or breaking anything else. Before I could find the courage to get up and go to the living room to talk to him, he walked back into the bedroom.

"I'm so sorry Ryan, I didn't want you to come home and it be like this", I pleaded.
"It's okay, it's just Eli I'm worried about. He's going to freak out when he gets home," he said, trying to sound as calm as possible.
"Do you want me to go home?" I offered.

"No, of course not! Why would you think that?" he wanted to know, almost startled to hear I would assume that.
"Well, I know you're already mad at me...and did you break something in the living room?" I asked him.
"That was the fan. It just fell from the ceiling. Like literally. I was just standing there and I heard it make a funny noise, so I looked at it and saw it was hanging by the wires, so I turned it off. Then as it starting slowing down it just fell. There's glass everywhere in the living room," he told me. 

I couldn't help but quietly laugh. He hadn't been home more than thirty minutes or so and all hell broke loose. I got up and walked into the living room and helped him clean up the glass. As I was sweeping, I heard a tap at the sliding door. 

It was that fuckin' cat. I played cool and calm so she wouldn't get startled and run away. I opened the door, then swiftly scooped her up into my arms and held her close to my body. I was so excited to see her, I kissed her stupid cat head. Then I shut the door so she couldn't get out again. 

"She's back Ryan! Sassy's back!" I shouted. 

He rushed into the living room, "Thank God!" he said.

On the way to dinner, I started thinking about how the situation forced feelings of anxiety to resurface within me. I thought I conquered the disasters from 2009, so I was slightly disheartened to find out that I'm experiencing residual stress from everything. I hope I can learn better ways to deal, and better strategies on how to cope with it all.

There's a part of me that wonders what would've happened if the cat didn't come back. Would I have broken Ryan's trust? Would he be mad? Would he have broken up with me?

This won't be the last mistake I make. That's a promise I can actually keep. But through this mistake, and taking a risk I didn't think I was ready for, I learned to become a little more calm and I learned to trust him just a little more.

~

So this morning, I walked into the Red Cross building for my first disaster training course. Even though I wasn't there right on time, they let me in the building and were happy I showed up. When it was my turn to exercise the disaster scenarios I felt confident.

We won't ever be able to protect ourselves entirely from disaster, but we can learn to trust ourselves, each other, and our ability to make the right decisions when these situations occur. That's the key factor in salvaging life during these stressful, split second moments of tragedy. My instructor was impressed with my confidence, especially since I'm the youngest person in disaster training, according to our chapter.

I passed with flying colors.    

We are magnified.
We're making moves so blind.

I got you on my time.
--Minus the Bear/My Time

What's in a memoir?

I decided to take the past couple of years of my life, and pitch those years to a publisher in the form of a memoir.

Because I'm old school, I believe that writing itself is a form of art. Nearly 80% of my scripts, short stories, personal memories and thoughts have been handwritten. What can I say? I'm old school. But try scanning all of that, copying it, then printing it into book form. I'm pretty sure you'd end up with the messiest scrapbook. 

With that noted, much of my time in the past week has been spent digging up the notebooks I've recorded in daily since 2006.  Then I've been transferring those handwritten memories into digital memories, onto my laptop. When I visited my mother's house in Oklahoma last week, I felt like an archeologist in her garage as I went through the infamous 50-gallon tupperware container as well as other sites within the house, to uncover the ancient notebook scrolls from the past eras of my life.

Overwhelming? Intense? I thought so too.

Examining the history of my life this way has proven to be an educational yet fun, bittersweet experience. In a way, after unearthing and reading the content I've kept, its feels like I've been preparing for this project all my life. With confidence and over half of the content already written, I'm determined to get the experiences organized to create a piece of art that will serve as a reminder to me, who I am and why. Kind of like an aboriginal map of the migratory paths I've taken to survive. I want to keep it as honest as possible, sharing everything, from embarrassing encounters, vulnerable times, desperate times, happy moments, and everything in between.


I'm not looking to get rich, but I want to find a central, cozy place to store these relics. Those memories from the past two years were the most life changing for me, and I feel they deserve more than banishment to the garage until I migrate again. Who knows? Maybe we can learn something from this? Or not. We will, at the very least, be able to laugh at all the irony. Hopefully after sharing this memoir with others, we can laugh at it, together.


Let's begin
With the past in front
And all the things
You really don't care about now
It'd be exactly where I'm at.
--Ween/Exactly Where I'm At

A slight vow of silence.

The past week, I've tried to make a point of listening more and talking less. I did this with the hope that through a slight vow of silence, the overwhelming feelings of anxiety I had would run their course, uninterrupted. In my attempt to talk less and listen more, I actually did end up receiving more information this weekend than I had expected.

~

I really wish Joey would get a job. Or at least clean up the house while we were at work. 

LIZ: You should try downtown. You don't have to do anything full-time, just something small and easy. You know, like part-time washing dishes or cooking.

JOEY: I can do more than wash dishes like you.

Patrick, I wish you weren't clocking in 120 hour work weeks.
I know it will pay off in the end, but I just worry about you sometimes...and I miss you.

MOM: Elizabeth, I see how terrible it was for grandpa when he lost grandma, and why he left everything exactly the way she left it, just before she died...I will NEVER be able to move on.
LIZ: (Leans over to Mom and holds her.)

LIZ: [Cleaning up coffee explosion that co-worker made.]

CO-WORKER: I told you to put the lid on tighter!

LIZ: You put the lid on the shaker.

CO-WORKER: Yeah, but you were supposed to make sure it was on all the way.

LIZ: [Shakes her head, "no".]

If I'm, "just a dishwasher", it's because of you.
You just eat, sleep, repeat.
Eat, sleep, repeat.
Eat, sleep, repeat.
Wake up, then do it all over again at noon.
If I'm going insane, its because you expect
Change without Change
Like a rude panhandler on the street .
Outside of a community college,
using a copy of the FAFSA to stay dry in the rain.
Both soggy and incomplete.
At least it was free.
If I'm, "just a dishwasher" its because of you.

~

RYAN: I have something to ask you.
LIZ: Okay, ask away.
RYAN: This is kind of embarrassing because I don't know how to ask this...
LIZ: You can start by asking me.
RYAN: Um..okay. Will you be my girlfriend?
LIZ: (Smiles) Ask me again when you haven't had that much to drink.
RYAN: Okay.

At Rise:
[The next night, RYAN and LIZ are standing, facing each other
in the driveway of LIZ's house. RYAN brushes the hair away from
LIZ's face with his hands and he is staring at her in silence, smiling.
LIZ makes eye contact with him and returns his smile. RYAN leans
in toward LIZ, and they kiss.]

LIZ: (Looking up at Ryan, smiling, but still wondering
why he is staring at her.) What?
RYAN: So last night, I asked you something and you told me
to ask you again when I was sober.
LIZ: Uh-huh...
RYAN: So I'm going to ask you again. Sober.
LIZ: Okay.
RYAN: Will you be my girlfriend?
LIZ: Why do you want me to be your girlfriend?
RYAN: Because I know what I want. You're WAAAY
different than any other girl I've ever met. I know a good thing when
I see it and I don't want to pass up this opportunity to be with you.
LIZ: Okay then. Yes.

RYAN pulls LIZ closer into him, and they kiss again.

i start to melt
with my arms, around your waist
and my mouth, starts to spell
and the words, saying its okay
--Peter, Bjorn, and John/Start to Melt

current: MAY 2010

current book
Well...I'm supposed to be reading The Liar's Club by Mary Karr.




current playlist
1. Messages - B.R.A.M.

2. You Can't Blame it on Anybody - Phoenix

3. Lights go out - Jupiter One
4. Runnin' Out of Dough - the Get Busy Committee
5. Nervous - John Forte
6. Marching Bands of Manhattan - Death Cab for Cutie
7. Gold, Guns, Girls - Metric

8. Apollo's Frock - Tori Amos
9. Parting Gift - Fiona Apple
10. Hoping, Waiting, Wishing - Tonight, Tonight!




current shame-inducing guilty pleasure
espresso shots






current color[s]
ivory & pink  




current fetish
solitude & silence





current drink
Venti Dirty Chai Latte





current favorite favorite
Ryan Roberts<3

current indulgence
tic tacs & oatmeal w/fruit and almonds





current link
[none]

current triumph[s]
I'm still here, right?







current bane of my existence
"get a job"





current celebrity crush
edward norton







current movie
Get Him to the Greek







current excitement
*BBQ after work tonight
*Ryan Roberts<3
*seeing Stephen next week at his movie screening





current mood
precocious