(In)Significant

After an exhaustive day at work, I set out for home. I lugged my bag, a casefile, and my purse to my Yukon, feeling the last of my energy drip out of my hands as I heaved them into the backseat. I was the last to leave the office again, the sun long gone past the horizon.
My mind kept drifting back to a phone conversation with a teen later that afternoon. She was angry with me, again. I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary; I was simply the scapegoat. The phone call ended with her screaming hateful things, bursting into tears, and sitting in silence as I tried to sooth her with my words. My words did not always work.
I lived 35 minutes away, and back then I looked forward to the silence of my 23 acres. I crossed the bridge over the lake, and began the boring drive home. Nothing was on the radio; I spent most of the trip channel-surfing. I crested a hill and came up on a red light. I slowed to a stop.
I was thinking about dinner. I didn't want to cook what was thawing in the kitchen sink.
I randomly looked into my rearview mirror.
A car was flying in my lane.
At the last second, he noticed me, at a dead stop at the light.
He swerved. Too late.
He rear-ended me, going 65 miles an hour. And then over-compensated, losing what control he had, careening across 2 lanes of traffic and into a ditch. He flipped the car in the ditch.
I watched in awe as he crawled out of a window of his car, and took off running through the ditch, towards another road. He was running sideways, and tripped twice.
In a bit of shock, I watched as not one but two men came out of my periphreal, sprinting across traffic, after him. Into the ditch, after him. Tackling him. I saw a shoe flip up into the air, landing rightside up on the service road.
I was okay. He was drunk, fresh out of prison, without a license, a weapon in someone else's car.
******
Not a month later, I found out I was pregnant. Counting back the days on my calender, I realized I was pregnant when he rear-ended me.
And in an instant, one teeny tiny breath of a second, things changed. Something little & insignificant like a car accident became something larger than life. My chest was compressed by the thought that I had survived being hit by a drunk driver while pregnant. My baby, just a little lima bean, was protected, right? Right?
My world transformed in that instant. I became protective and defensive in a way I had never been before.
******
In an instant, one teeny tiny breath of a second, things changed. As it was then, it is now:
My cousin's soon-to-be 14 year old got the H1N1 piggy flu. He already had a compromised immune system. The flu developed into pneumonia; pneumonia into Epstein-Barr virus. In less than a week, he went from quiet and semi-healthy to life-support. There was no way he would recover. He died with family around him, but he was not conscious. Several of his organs were donated.
And just like that, in an instant, several other people's lives changed, as they received the organ they had been praying for.
And again I become protective and defensive in a way I have never been before. My girl got a mild case of the piggy flu. I am blessed. But now I think about how in just a teeny tiny breath, something ordinary can become catastrophic for some, and a sweet relief for others.

Music Lover Monday-The "I wish I had endless amounts of $ to spend on music downloads" Edition

Lay Me Down by The Frames:  ("The Cake Eaters" Soundtrack)


All Roads Lead Home by Golden State: ("Henry Poole is Here" Soundtrack)



Your Arms Around Me by Jens Lekman  ('Whip It' Soundtrack)

Random Disney shows that crack me up

Shaun the Sheep: This show is hard to find on TV, but it is so well-worth it! I crack up every time I see it.

Next up: Miniscule by Disney. They are short fims about bugs that really crack me up. I couldn't find the one I really wanted to post, but this one is silly too. Make sure you turn up the sound so you can hear all the sound effects. 




I am going with humor today, because I just don't have it in me to pull the nostalgia out of my heart & place it on your screen. Thank you for all your comments on Twitter about my 2nd cousin. I didn't know him well, but I am saddened just the same.

So simple & profound

A couple of weeks ago I read this post by Aidan over at Ivy League Insecurities. I will wait while you click on over there and read her fabulous post. No, really. I'll go read a blog or listen to some kick-ass music while I wait.
....

While the post struck me as sweet, Aidan speaking kindly of Nic over at My Bottle's Up, what really struck a chord was this: 

"But something in me has an urge to reach out beyond the little snow globe that is my existence. And learn. About others. About different places – geographical and metaphysical. About different people. People with different pasts and different presents. With different experiences and emotions and struggles."

Aidan is much more poetic than I, when it comes to speaking of the WHY? of blogging. For me, I have always said it's for me, my journey, an outlet, a bouncing-off place, a path through my heart & mind that I want to share. It is all of these things, for me.

I have listened to others wax on about how we blog for others, for attention, for notoriety, for affirmation, for friendship. And all of these may well be true.

I have listened to others discuss the need to be honest on our blogs, share every teeny detail with those who are reading, leave no stone unturned, we owe it to our readers.

I have listened to others discuss the necessity in being anonymous, keeping safety at the forefront of the entire endeavor, separating the blog persona and the real person.

I struggle with all of this, because as is par for me, I agree with bits and pieces of all of it. I have never been black and white; I have always made my home in that lovely gray area that scares many, including my loved ones. 

I blog for me. 

I blog to get it out, to see it in print, to prove to myself that my feelings are accurate, real, and justified. 

I blog for support, for a shared sense of SHARING, for new friendships.

I blog to organize my thoughts, my dreams, my emotions, my past, and get a grasp on my future.

While I give you tattered threads of my heart, share dreams that haunt me, I also keep my distance. I am not completely honest with my readers about all of me, all the time. Not that I lie, but I withhold things, things that I'm not quite ready to admit to myself, and certainly not to my readers.

And each time I let fear rule my hands as I type up another post, I think "Maybe I should take a break. Maybe I shouldn't share all of this. Maybe no one gives a shit about it. Maybe I shouldn't give a shit about any of it."

But I hit publish anyway, shaking, fearful that I will disappoint someone, shame someone, throw someone for a loop, push someone away. I am such a people-pleaser, even those people that I have never laid eyes on, even those lurkers, even those who don't deserve the pleasure of my pleasing.

And then I read a post like Aidan's, so simple and profound. And I think "Yes, YES, I have got it right. See it's right there-she thinks like I do. This must be right." And I feel a sense of freedom, of companionship, of pride. I feel as though I have a true friend in Aidan, although we have never gone shopping together, nor have we gone out drinking and dancing until 2am. Nor have we even emailed back and forth. But I read her post, and I realize that we are all doing this shit for the same reasons, and they are all true and just and beautiful.  

Over the top & Under the bus

Moxie Mama totally threw me under the bus (except, she was also under the bus, so isn't it really that she dragged me under the bus with her?...) and bestowed this award on me & my blog. It makes me blush a little (okay, no it doesn't). I love that mama, and truly wish I could meet her like yesterday.

So here goes. I will play nice today.


1. Where is your cell phone? Hand
2. Your hair? fuzzy
3. Your mother? Awesome
4. Your father? Complicated
5. Your favorite food? Sweet
6. Your dream last night? Hopeful
7. Your favorite drink? Jose
8.Your dream/goal? Publication
9. What room are you in? Living
10. Your hobby? words.
11. Your fear? Lonely
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Productive
13. Where were you last night? Campus
14. Something you aren’t? Quiet
15. Muffins? top? *snort*
16. Wish list item? ANTHROPOLOGIE
17.Where did you grow up? Here
18. Last thing you did? Showered
19.What are you wearing? shorts
20. Your TV? Massive
21.Your pets? Gas-y
22. Your friends? Loyal
23. Your life? up-lifting
24. Your mood? nostalgic
25.Missing someone? DUH.
26.Vehicle? dirty
27. Something you’re not wearing? panties *dirty whore!*
28.Your favorite store? Amazon!
29.Your favorite color? Ocean
30. When was the last time you laughed? recently
31. Last time you cried? week
32. Your best friend? Eh.
33. One place that you go over and over? past
34. One person who emails me regularly? 3giraffes
35. Favorite place to eat? bed


And yeah, read into that (35) what you will. Bwahahaha!
Also, Moxie Mama said my answers would be highly entertaining, and seriously, I am not entertaining when I am required to count my words. I am a rambling entertainer.


So, now that I've played nice and failed miserably at being entertaining, I am bestowing this lovely award/mememememememememe on the following:


Jaded Perspective


Chains of Yesterday

The Quest for T

Doof Mom

Music Lover Monday-Workout R&B edition

"Make Her Say (Poke Her Face)" by Kid Cudi, Common, & Kanye



"Lookin Boy" by Hot Stylz (This song cracks me up).



"I'm the Ish" by DJ Class (I have a thing for sexy lips, not gonna lie)


****
Don't forget about the Pills Session II! Send your post to alittleleftoflost(at)gmail (dot)com! Please join the ranting!

Is today Thursday? Is it October? WTF?

I'm pretty sure this week is the longest week in.existence. I am worn the fuck out, my allergies are kicking my ass, I haven't posted, my reading for school has suffered, my house looks like a tornado dropped the medicine aisle of a drug store on it, and I haven't exercised. Or worn anything remotely sexy or even decent.
My girl's cough is still alive and phlegmy. We are on day 5 of a sneaky-ass fever. I'm waiting on the doctor's office to open, so I can pretend I didn't just scour the CDC's website about the H1N1 virus. I'm trying not to flip flop out.
All that being said, the point of my post is not to think about the damn flu or complain about how I feel. It is for this:


Happy Birthday to my sweet friend, Peggy. Yes, she lives in New York, and no, we haven't officially met, hugged, and Squeeeeee!'ed, but I love her just the same. She makes me smile and laugh, and she's WONDERFUL. Also, go check out her website Lil Foot Designs, where you can buy the softest blankets for your babies EVAH.
(And Peggy, I'm sorry you won't be getting a birthday card from me, since it's still sitting on my kitchen counter, waiting on a stamp. xoxo)