Bibbity-bobbity-boo

A handful of glitter in the air was all that separated me from being someone's Fairy Godmother in the last 12 hours. I made 3 pastel colored tulle tutus in dispatch tonight, stopping only for a 100+ CHP pursuit and a few medicals. Tutu making...let's call it a much needed distraction. I actually love how they turned out and I can't wait to see how they sell at the end of the year at the Christmas botique. I'm hoping to keep riding this crafty wave right on through the end of this graveyard shift. Here's to craftiness...I forgot how much I miss it until now.

BFF

Broken Former Friendship

it's like an automatic version of getting kicked when you're already down
yeah, it's true
I know it is

its all those same emotions as a regular break-up:

foolish
used
hurt
bruised
betrayed
doubting
did you ever really believe in someone that much? that hard? that blindly?
did i ignore the signs? yeah...kind of. call it hoping for the best
in hindsight, it seems like it was a loosing game all along
the traces of an old life were all fading away, I was part of the old
growing pains are awkward and ugly
so are dents
we were bent
now we're broken



unpicturing someone who was supposed to be there for the important moments in your life and erasing them feels impossible
mabye all along they weren't going to be right next to you, but at least they were in your audience
they were part of that web that made up the safety net of your life

it's uneasy
unfinished
nagging
sometimes I think I just want to get the last word in, prove my point
lash out
but that's not it
I want an answer
it's not about finding a replacment, it's about worth, longevity, history
being irreplacable on both ends of it
irreplacable has it's place

I hate that feeling of wondering what the hell you're supposed to say when you accidentally bump into them
it makes me not want to ever do so much for a close friend again and that's not the person I am...it hate that thought, i despise it
ultimately i hate the feeling of wondering who is going to betray me next
I feel foolish for being scared for someone who insisted that my concern was just critcism

really what is this in the grand scheme? just another scar right?
but this one's uglier
those silly boys are supposed to dissapoint you
work too
family is comedic, tragic, a given, you just have to accept them

but those few friends you've always known
the ones you drag with you everywhere in life
the ones you made backyard wishes with
the ones you shared your first mobile freedom with
the ones you have on the other end of your auto dial
the ones that remember where you came from
the ones that remind you where you want to go
the ones that see you through all the bad decisions undone
the ones that will tell you the truth and won't just stand by
the ones that pull you up, pull you out, refuse to accept an "I'm fine"
the ones you shouldn't lie to...the exceptions to the don't tell rule
the ones who can still see past all the years of "adult" debris and find the little kid in you
the ones who know who you really are at the end of the day
those are the friends who are supposed to stay - over night, over coffee, over all the other BS
they're the family you get to choose yourself

10, 20, 50 years from now, people are going to forget what you did and what you said, but they'll never forget how you made them feel.

forgetting would be a reprieve
this bothers me more than I like to admit

move me

8am, sleep should be well over me.
stuck on YouTube, listening to covers of Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
I find the real thing
Captivated
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
the notes
the melody
that sound
they're like...??
what are they like?
it's a feeling...what's this word I'm thinking?

liquid.

they flow, they get in my veins....they move me.
move me to a place where I'm not just listening with my ears
<3

shhhh...
close your eyes, you don't need your eyes for this
can you find that place where you remember what this song feels like?
@ 1:03, the drop
lost your ground
lost your footing
the floor...felt like it just dropped out
too much to ignore
<3 stopped beating...it's joined a race
that lump in your throat
that pit in your stomach

reality is a harsh pill
a touch gone
a heart break too close
a goodbye that stares back
a tear that never seems to end
s l o w
deliberate

until you just let it take over
indulge
give in
give up
stop fighting
let it run its course
until you're left just humming
swaying
pushing the repeat button on your memory

this is no where connected to my present
but I can still see that place where it owned my past
remembering how this song feels doesn't leave
the sting is long gone but the memory...
it still captivates me

Plotting my course...

Ten to five-am, July 25th...Summer whizzing by, highlighted map in front of me on my console, iPod pumping out tunes, high on home made crock pot peach cobbler that cooked right here in dispatch at the beginning of the shift, trying to figure out how far Boise is from the Lolo National Forest and what there is to actually see in Montana besides Big Sky. It looks so close together on paper, the state lines aren't really that far apart, but I think they might actually be. Would it matter though? Four corners, Yellowstone, the Mile High City, the Grand Canyon, Lebanon, KS...by the end of August, I'll have 18 states to go and I'm that much closer to completing #24 from my Bucket List.

"(S)he's racing and pacing and plotting the course...she's going the distance."

In our last long conversation in May, Bev asked me "You're such an adventurer, wow do you decide where you're going next? Or do you just let the wind blow you in the direction you're supposed to go?"

I'm listening to the wind Bev, I'm letting it push me in the direction I'm supposed end up.

Dream the world. Live your dreams. Live big. Live bold. Live beautifully.

Keep your hands off my crock pot.

This is my patented "Crock-pot anti-meddling device" (c)...it is meant to prevent inteference from old men who think they know thing 1 about cooking...old men who think that when a crock pot looks "dry and crusty on top" that it is time to unplug raw meat 2 hours early and "eat a bowl with 2 tortillas".

If you call now, you can get not 1, but 2 of these revolutionary devices for the bargain price of $9.99.

As you can see, taped to the cabinets (only because I couldn't figure out how to replace the staplers in the industrial stapler), are 18 reasons why you (meaning my father) should never touch the crock pot.

Reason 18) not unless there is smoke and/or flames shooting from the crock pot, even then, this kitchen was burned down twice in my youth, the last time I had to put it out at age 12 with an extinguisher while my mother huddled against the kitchen door screaming bloody murder. I think we've already had our run on kitchen fires.

This is literally the means I have to go to, to get a message across to anyone about anything in this house....the day when I have to wake up and damn near instantly go and find the spray paint and a scrap piece of wood on the side of the house, and more than 1 door gets slammed in a row...it is NOT a good day.

Yeah, I lost it a little bit today.

Summertime, graveyard shift, semi sick over the weekend, and just plain sick of having everything constantly messed with pushed me over the edge. You live with your disabled senior citizen father day in and day out and tell me how you manage to cope with it. He's not cute all the time. It's funny now but in the haze of spray paint fumes at 245pm with sleep dust still in my eyes and anger boiling through my veins, the funny was still in it's own crock pot.

Lesson of the day: don't mess with a sleeping woman's crock pot.

Dream the world! Live your dreams!

Beverley “Bev” Kaye Stehli
July 23, 1942 - July 5, 2010

Nearly 2 months ago, I meant to post this picture and write about my day with dear friend and mother-figure Bev, but I didn't. Other than the business of life, I don't know why I didn't. Subconciously, I suspect it was because she said something about her hair in the picture and I figured I would just hang on to the picture until the time was right. I'm so glad I took that warm day in May to go and see her.

Yellow, that's about the right color for my last memory of Bev. Despite the cancer and the chemo, she was glowing...having a light that next to nothing could extinguish. If you've ever met or seen anyone who smiled with their eyes, you know what I mean.

She was a lady who lived big, lived bold, and lived beautifully. She is the "old" lady I want to be when I get that age who had a young spirit and true zest for life. I don't think the phrase would be wasted on her by saying she had a lust for life.

Thank you Bev for teaching, sharing, and showing me about all the beautiful things in life. I appreciate the world at broad, travel, and beauty in the little things all around because you had such passion for them. Thank you for believing in me, you really did. Thank you for always asking me how I was, where I was going, what I had seen, how my family was, and reminding me to slow down and not work so much. Thank you for taking hula lessons with me on my maiden trip to Hawaii, for introducing me to the lagoons at Ko'Olina, for complimenting my passion for photography when it was in its infancy, for feeding my love of art through scrapbooking and sending me all those little treasures over the years to add to my growing hobby, for remembering me every Christmas in one way or the other, thank you for your laugh...oh your laugh that I will remember always, for your smile, for your hugs, for adopting me for so many family meals and vacations.

In an email dated this February 15th, she announced her big adventure to all her friends and family. Titled "My Big Adventure" it was the announcment that the cancer that had been so sneakily gone for 5 years, had metastecized to her brain. As was Bev, her email started by asking how everyone else was.

Dear Beloved Friends and Family,
How are you all doing? Hope that 2010’s challenges and obstacles are few and easily manageable. Be sure to celebrate each day….whatever it brings!

I am really, truly going to miss you and I am finding it hard to believe that you are gone. I'm am a better person for having known you and I will not forget you. I will remember you in sunsets, the ocean, beautiful Hawaiian melodies, and in all things purple.

As I was leaving that day, somewhere inside, I knew it was the last time I would see her. I have her a series of hugs and a kiss on the cheek. One of those kisses I used to give my grandmother, the same ones that I drop on my 90 year old Uncle Pete everytime I see him. I didn't see Bev a lot, but she would send the occasional email and it was comforting knowing that she was there, just a postcard away.

Her obituary, so perfectly written by her family, simply ended like this:
Dream the world! Live your dreams!

lights, camera, tattoo

That's right...I did it. The tattoo has arrived. Nothing over the top or super symbolic. Just something pretty that I saw on a piece of scrapbook paper. But, ah-ha, I am a scrapbooker through and through, so it is me and it's just the beginning. I was itching for more ink before I made it to the parking lot. Soon there will be another...mark my words!!!