0

Derby Greatness

I have been one busy mother fucker. Ok so that might not be such a nice thing to say to most, but Im just to busy to give a rats ass. I play derby now. Let me tell you that when you play derby you either do it half assed and never get anywhere (except you get to party like a derby girl) or you work hard and you dedicate yourself to the sport (and you party like a derby girl) and NO one seems to appreciate or understand your dedication. Well no one that is not a derby related person. My derby sisters understand, my refs understand, hell even the super fans understand im sure in their super fan kind of way. People in your life that don’t love derby the way you do, wont understand. They think you are just selfish and obsessing on your hobby.

Im not the kind of person who obsesses on silly things. I don’t or have I ever idolized any human being. I don’t buy the newest coolest technological toy as soon as it comes out. I don’t follow anything trendy.   I pay close attention to the things in life that make an over all difference. I focus on the richness of living.   I spent years focusing on being pregnant, birthing, and breastfeeding. I spent years on natural remedies and cures.  I have come to trust my judgement and opinion on the experiences I have. I no longer doubt myself, there is no need to.  I am right. Loving is greatness. Playing is greatness. Doing good is greatness. Damn it Derby is greatness.

To play it with your body mind and soul is to understand it’s greatness.   

I hav come. I have observed and I have found derby to be worthy of greatness.

2

Spanked

No I’m not talking about those shameful things I used to do for money back in the day……

I’m talking about life. My life and all the exceptional kick assedness that it brings.  I have not had time for the relaxing things that I enjoy. Like helping people with their problems and listening and encouraging or sewing, dancing, singing, hiking, riding my bike or even a lazy afternoon in front of the television.

I have found myself lately being overwhelmed by all the possibilities in my life. I suppose that happens when you stop living like a victim, an abused child, and grow the fuck up and realize you have choices and wisdom and passion and endless possibilities. With all the possibilities swirling around, like going back to school, creating my tinctures, helping friends get well, parties for days in OCTOBER,  creating my own business, honing my writing skills, and a million other things my mind chooses to create throughout the day.  I realized I needed to focus back on the basics.  My basics consist of the house, the kids, the animals and the man, oh and my mental well being always comes first.  Sounds selfish I know, but when you have been as “crazy” as I have been for as long as I have been you understand that my sanity is key to everyone else’s safety and positive life experiences.  I have a civic responsibility to not go bat shit nuts ever again, so I must work out at least 3 days a week and get plenty of sleep. After that, my house is not exactly the picture of clean and I certainly wouldn’t want to invite someone into it like this.

So of course me being me.  I did just that. I invited someone over.  This is the only way I will get myself to do what needs to be done around her.  I will clean the underside of my toilet if I think a new friend is coming over. Of course my son will piss all over it the second before she knocks on the door but still, I did the work damn it.

Today I challenged myself to a race.  Racing myself in the day to see who wins the lazy ass bitch who says fuck it and jumps on the Internet or the hard core me who burns 500 calories at the gym before 10 a.m. and gets her kids played with, read to, and tuckered out in time to do the damned dishes and have dinner ready  for my spectacular husband to come home and enjoy it with me.

Ya know what, hard core me totally finished first today.

I can be super woman and get it all done in a day. I do realize that all the stars were aligned and my moon must have been its positive orbital trajectory and some other such bullshit in order for me to actually accomplish all that I wanted to accomplish.  I half want to thank the damn universe for working so well with me today.   I even walked the dog and found a belly dancing class just up the street. I can sign up and enrich my womanly goodness even further. I’m just hot shit today.

Even though I do feel like a very accomplished woman right now, I also feel quite spanked, spent, put firmly in my place.  I can’t quite tell if this is a good feeling or not.    I play a tough girl on “TV” but really I just want to know where I belong and be there. I want that all powerful Being to show me my path and put me on it intently with a little swat to my ass and say, “go to it girl, do what you do and do it damn well.”  Of course I would never take such instruction from any human being on this planet unless we were wearing costumes and leather was involved. Considering I put myself through this day, I suppose I spanked my own ass. I am in control. I am the dominant.  I suppose that’s just how God made me.  I like God. He does some good stuff.

Hot damn there I go finishing out my day with an epiphany. Can’t get much better than that……………unless you throw in a beer and a good movie. Tired eyes permitting of course.

5

When I am angered

I clean and now I can blog. Not a bad combo for coping with issues of anger.

I have to get this one out so be warned this is a vomit of sorts if you don’t like that sort of thing go read something else.

Most days I can flow with life as it strikes and choose how I will take the ride. Unfortunately on this particular evening someone took away my desired path. My path was to refresh and find kindness and forgiveness. All I found was a stone cold wall of harsh rejections. I am left with frustration and her ignorance. Not a comfortable feeling to be holding.

The thing that bothers me most is that she rejected not only me but my children.

Let me tell ya a little story ’bout a human being lacking in common sense and human kindness.

Setting the scene.

A packed and wild late night local high school football game.  I am alone amongst several thousand people, alone with my 3 young children that is.  I have no way to make it through the crowds with my stroller, cooler, back pack of toys and hiking pack filled with my youngest on my back.  Fortunately I don’t have to maneuver through the hustle and bustle and am proudly escorted by my husband through the pass gate and lead to a very comfy and secluded seating section with only half a dozen other people in it. Enough room for my children to run back and forth in the seats, not disturbing anyone, and they get to catch glimpses of there daddy as he passes by.  We get to feel the excitement of the two teams and their fans without being threatened with their screaming voices and possibly trampled on.  The night was hot and the kids drank several juice boxes and waters to keep cool.

Incident.

My 3year old says, “mommy I have to pee. NOOOOWWW!”  He is still new to the game of not pissing his pants, so this warning is always taken seriously.  Now keep in mind I could never make it to a bathroom with all my kids and stuff, and allowing him to pee in the stands is just in poor taste.  On the other hand I have no issue with him peeing on a bush outside. So I politely ask another fan to watch my stroller and stuff and grab up my 3 kids and walk them to the pass gate just a few yards away.  As I approach the woman sitting there has a nasty look on her face, as if she is disgusted by me. I often forget I have many tattoos, holes in my face and unnaturally bright red hair until I get a look like that.  My first reaction is always to show kindness, in hopes it will melt their initial ignorant preconceived ideas of me and soften the situation.  I said hello and explained my 3year old was about to pee his pants and I just needed to slip through to a tall bush on the other side to let him relieve himself or he would pee his pants.

She tells me in the most rude and unfeeling voice possible, ” if you leave your not coming back in.”

I explain to her my stuff is still inside and some stranger is watching it for me, I will be very quick and that it’s really not a problem. I grabbed the kids hands hands and began to walk out and she stood up in my face almost giving me a chest bump and saying, “I mean it you will not come back in here.”

Frustrated and concerned for my child’s needs, I just huff away and mumble something about find a quiet hallway for him then. I walked him down the locker room halls hoping to find an open door and did not. He began to piss his pants and I tried to help him remove his pants so he would get less on himself. In the end he had to take off his shorts and spend the rest of the time at the game in his T-shirt and underwear.  I was pissed.  I even held up my sons wet shorts and said to the woman, “hey maybe you could wash these for him so he doesn’t have to miss out on going out to pizza with his daddy after the game.”

I sat and I calmed down for the next hour or so.  I decided that If I am going to be the supportive wife and attend my husbands work functions that the people working for him should know who I am.   It might just clear things up and avoid this problem in the future.

I walk my children over the pass gate again. I make sure to put on a soft smile and have nothing but good intentions in my heart. A woman from the other team approaches, she is a coach and loaded down with piles of bags and equipment. I step back to let her go first. She too is stopped by this woman and told harshly she will not be allowed back in.

The woman sort of laughs a bit and says, “I’m one of the coaches, it’s ok. I have to take this stuff to my car and return for the rest of it.”

The gate keeper says, ” no, why don’t you just leave that stuff here, and go get the rest now.”

The coach says, ” Um NO! I’m going to take this to my car, and I am going to return for the rest. I have a pass somewhere Im sure. Don’t you worry you wont get in any trouble letting a coach back in.”

The coach walks away.

I approach, admittedly sort of laughing that this gate keeper feels she has such “power” to wield she can speak so rudely to anyone and everyone. It made me feel a little better, that she was simple a person lacking common sense and not discriminating against me because of my appearance.

I started off by saying, “Hi, I’m sorry but I think we started off on the wrong foot.”

The gate keeper smirks and says, “oh yeah.”

“I really think we should introduce ourselves properly to avoid this problem in the future. I am Mr. N’s wife and these are his children.”

She interrupts me before I can even get our names out, ” Oh and what is that supposed to mean to me?”

I say, “well I’m not sure, just that we are his family and we are here to see him because he works so hard for the school we rarely get to see him.”

She hisses back with, “Oh well I’m so glad you come to see their daddy.”

I am getting confused now. I don’t understand why she is being so rude. It seems like a simple matter of knowing all your facts and repairing the previous damage. But she seems bent on being defensive. I realize this quickly and keep myself calm saying only, “yes its very important to them considering how much they don’t get to see him. Now my point was……………”

Interrupted again with, “oh but um I thought you came up here because we started off on the wrong foot, how is this making it better?”

She has totally put me in some alternate universe at this point, I am clueless as to why she is speaking to me this way and now raising her voice and standing up in my face. I raise my voice a bit to try and speak over her as she continues to interrupt my every word.

“I JUST THOUGHT IT MIGHT HELP US TO KNOW EACH OTHER SINCE WE WILL BE ATTENDING MOST EVERY GAME.”

For some reason she took this as a threat also and got closer to me and said some bullshit about “oh yeah? really? what is that supposed to mean?”

Then some man from behind me touches my shoulder and says, “hey you don’t yell at her. she is a volunteer.”

My response to him was, “I don’t believe I was speaking to you, and that’s great she is volunteering for her child’s school.”

I look at this woman who is still in my space, “So are you a booster parent?”

and she come back with yet another, “why whats that supposed to imply.”

Gahhhh woman, Im thinking holy shit you are so paranoid. I’m not playing who is better than who here. I am just trying to intro-fucking duce myself. At this point I am beyond frustrated.

I ask them all, “hey so tell me something, if Mr. N came through here and needed to go out and come back in would you stop him too?”

I get a blank look, because they would not and could not do this to him.

“Well then you don’t need to stop me either. He is too busy working out there to escort me in and out of this gate and should NOT have to.  The purpose of the no return rule is for the young people trying manipulate and play around, it is not intended for coaches,staff and close family of those people.”

of course no one was listening to reason. they all felt some sort of misguided duty to restrict me from letting my child pee in an appropriate place or letting me make peace with them. At this point, another coach walked up and told them all who I was, as if I needed someone to validate my identity. I know he was being helpful but he shouldn’t have to defend me like that. Even if I was not the “Top Dog’s” wife, if I was a regular attendee there to see the game, with 3 small children and one about to pee himself anyone with an ounce of compassion would have let me pass through without incident and return.  We are not talking about national security here, it was a kids foot ball game.

I am exhausted and tired of thinking of this. I dislike leaving things unattended. I still feel a need to repair this issue and make all communications clear and peaceful. I am now hearing from my husband that they may want me to appologise to them. Really? Cause I thought that is what I was trying to do and they would not let me.

These people need me (in a professional capacity) more than I ever thought.

I think I have purged enough. Thank  you to whoever takes the time to read this personal vomit and love me anyway.

6

Pick Your Own

If you can pick your own name.  A name that fits you. A name you would prefer to hear called out to get your attention for the rest of your life. What would it be? I am no name snob that’s for sure. I like all names, I don’t think a person should be forced to keep their birth name or made to feel guilty for wanting to change it. If you discover your true name is something totally different from your birth name I say take that name and claim it as your own. It’s unfortunate that it can cost you an ass load to legally change it here in america though.

So obviously a day came in my life when I asked myself, “Who the fuck am I really?”  Through many years of adventurous discovery I found myself.

I am HOPE.

Although not the name given me by my parental units.   I am HOPE.   No joke.   I am the ever living,never letting go, always feeling, loving you, holding on to that last glimmer of……… HOPE.

My mother named me Tonya Hope. In my humble opinion Tonya was a trailer trash stretch of her imagination for a cool “new” name but the name Hope was a gift from the universe.  Yes folks I can love myself that fucking much.   My name was gifted to me from God.  It really is a meant to be kind of thing. Not everyone can say that. I have the uncanny ability to forgive, to love unconditionally, to move forward to a better future with a light always burning in the distance.  I don’t care how depressed I have found myself in my life, I was never void of some idea of a brighter future.  That is why I have always been a cutter and not a slicer. Gotta love that imagery.

Wikipedia says,

Hope is a belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one’s life. Hope is the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best.^[1] Hopefulness is somewhat different from optimism in that hope is an emotional state, whereas optimism is a conclusion reached through a deliberate thought pattern that leads to a positive attitude.

Poem for Hope
A Hong Kong Proverb As long as we have hope,
we have direction,
the energy to move,
and the map to move by.
We have a hundred alternatives,
a thousand paths and infinity of dreams.
Hopeful, we are halfway to where we want to go;
Hopeless, we are lost forever.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—

I’ve heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.

Emily Dickinson

So what name do you give yourself?

5

Judgy McJudgerson

On the playground

Miss Scaredy Pants Mom:

“no don’t do that, you can’t do that, your too small. Don’t you know you just can’t do that. Your not big enough, No….NO…..NO…..NO”  Repeat this same sort of thing OVER and OVER for 10 straight minutes.

In line to return something

“Miss Know it all to her companion:

” Yeah I have to return this shirt, I won’t dare try something on HERE….ewww, I was surprised they even carried a brand like this, suppose it serves me right for shopping here though they probably got all the misshapen items to be cheaper. “

(SHE TAKES A DEEP BREATH)

“Can you believe Helen brought that man to the BBQ last night, she just met him and she was already slow dancing with him.  I would never do thaaaat…ughhh.  She is too old to be acting like a young school girl.  She has no class.  That man is going to take her for a ride for sure.That is exactly why I just don’t date anymore, they are all liars and users.”

(SHE TAKES A DEEP BREATH)

“My sister says she is going to send her kids to public school.  I tried to tell her what a huge mistake that was but she just kept saying how expensive private school is and they are barely scraping by. Oh sure they are scraping by, I saw they bought a new boat for when they go camping…..maybe they should just sell that boat and one of there cars and they could do right by those kids and send them to a proper school. I’m so glad I don’t have kids, but if i did I sure wouldn’t screw them up like she is. You know you have to make certain sacrifices if you want to be a good parent.”

(SHE TAKES A DEEP BREATH)

“I saw this lady in the store the other day. She had this brat screaming in her cart pulling everything off the shelves. I was so pleased to see some REAL parenting when she pulled herself out of that line and took the child to the side and spanked him. You just don’t see people do that anymore and its a shame. You know that is why we have such horrible juvenile delinquents running around everywhere.

Huh just yesterday one of them came to my door, ignoring my no solicitors sign, and giving me some sob story about needing to raise money for his football team, he had a plastic tub full of candy bars. OH PLEEEEEASE, like i would buy candy bars off some dirty hoodlum who rang my bell. If he really was from a football team they should tell them to dress in nicer clothes when they go out begging…ughhhh.”

The companion then said, “Oh Abby SHUT UP!”

In Target:

3 year old girl: “I’m tired.”

her mother: ignores her, and continues talking into her blue tooth

3year old girl: “mama, I’m tired and my legs hurt.”

her mother: ignores her, still chatting on the blue tooth

3 year old girl: ” mama………..mamaaa MY LEGS REALLY HURT!”

her mother: “uh huh, thats nice honey” back to the blue tooth

3year old girl: sits on her butt in the isle, screams at her mom, “I can’t walk.”

her mother: had just got off the blue tooth and says, ” OH WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU RETARDED OR SOMETHING?” She then swoops the child up violently and tosses her in the cart, and says, “there now shut up retard.”

Oh these people are making it so hard to not place judgment. I want so bad to speak up, to help, to do anything to bring a different feeling to these situations. Normally I would. Normally I am able to bring things around to a more pleasant experience for all.  I wonder how long I am going to be in need of keeping my mouth shut and just listening and observing. It’s killing me.  I am starting to feel better. I have a healthy grasp of my role in the world again, but a few more days will still be good for me.

2

It’s A Lesson

When you constantly feel like your life is going in circles and nothing is changing or getting better, it’s because it is going in circles.

You analyse your “shit” and see what needs improvement.

You make lists and flimsy attempts to repair old damage and create new platforms to hoist yourself up to, but you fail fail fail.

You begin to feel sorry for yourself.

You ask others why things aren’t getting better.

They don’t have the damn answers, you dolt.  You have all the answers.  You were born with them.  It’s your life, you have to put forward the real and difficult changes needed to break out of that circle and create a new future.

Or continue to sit in your circle playing footsie with yourself wondering why your life sucks.

It’s as if you are still in school and you got lazy and cocky thinking you knew all the answers so you didn’t need to study. You get in and take the test and fail miserably and next year wonder why you have to take algebra over again.

Get it? Its all like that. A lesson. Learn it. Move on to the next one.

Thank you.

0

In The Beginning

I'm 10

I used to love writing as a child. I was that kid who wrote essays and stories in the second through 5th grade that received special mention or put in the school “paper”. I can look back now on it and realize my writing may not have been anything extra ordinary, but my subject matter and delivery made some people assume I had potential.  I used deep feeling and connected with what adults understood. While other children possibly just wrote what they were told to write, or copied words from a book, I pulled my stories from my experiences and laid out my raw emotions for the world to see. Put it this way I never struggled for words. They fell out of me like rain during a storm which turns out to be quite  apropos considering my life at the time.

I will never forget in the 3rd grade I wrote a story of a young girl living in a village, and upon returning from her walk in the woods, she found her entire village brutally murdered by a dragon. I told of burned bodies and her mothers limbs parts spread across the hut they once had dinners in. The charred remains of her baby brother.

How on earth a child of 8 or 9 yrs can show signs in her writing of being aware of such horrors and not be questioned is beyond me. I wish my writing at the time had been enough to spark someones attention my way. Maybe I could have been saved from so many dark and menacing experiences and been able to finish school with a clear mind. The idea of being able to properly focus on education was a dream of mine as a child. I remember loving being taught how to create a story. In the end my home life won the battle. Soon school just became a place I went and no one got beat so I was safe, always holding on to the chilling fear that I had to return home at some point. Of course I realize now my journey was meant to be what it was. I had to live through all of that to be the human being I am. I like me and thankfully I know Im not done writing my story.

I had a horrible childhood filled with evil and torment. Writing seemed to be my only healthy way to release the pain and fear I felt from my surroundings. I utilized many other techniques to ease my troubles but writing always seemed to be the only one who would not betray me. I have pages and pages of journal entries that to me are my precious epiphanies of youth and describe my path to the wonderful life I live now. Over the years I have not shared my writings because I did once and I was told I write like a child. That hurt me and I stopped writing for several years. I needed that time. I needed to miss writing. I needed to grow up and meet others who wrote just for the joy of it and understand how my writing could have and should have evolved from that scared 3rd grader to a full grown woman that I am today. Sadly I missed out on various writing styles, grammar and techniques. I’m sure to the professional writer or blogger I come across as simple minded or lacking proper education for writing. That is ok. I think I need that. I put myself in places that open my eyes to what I need to learn. I want true and valuable input on how to be better at this thing I have cherished so much.

So this is the beginning. I look forward to the adventure. I seek knowledge and from what I have seen of other writers I can learn a lot. Someday I hope to be bold enough to take some writing classes for now I will just get a feel for it by practicing in writing of my life and things I’m passionate about. I am also enjoying so much reading the blogs of good writers. If you read this and know of inspirational bloggers with varying techniques please share.