… And when I saw this, I laughed.
I’ve seen it before, but I still laughed.
And that’s my favorite kind of laugh…
The laugh that comes back over and over again…
Even when the joke hasn’t changed.
I hope you laughed, too.
And by the way, I hate Journey.
This week’s prompt for the Six Word Story challenge at Sometimes Stellar Storyteller is…
Memory
The winner is the story with the most likes in the comments by the close of the challenge later in the week. If you like my story, please visit this week’s Six Word Story challenge and like it in the comments.
My story…
I forced myself to forget you.
xo ♥
Thank you Joana at The Great Journey for this award. I think this may be my favorite award of all the ones I’ve seen because it encourages sharing of blogs we love but no pressure to pick this many or answer this many questions and make up this many new questions! Plus the graphic is beautiful! (I’m into that sort of thing.)
The Award Rules:
1. I know you are Awesome, tell us why.
2. You are my friends and tell us about others.
3. Be creative. It’s alright if you can’t be.
4. I give no questions to be fully answered but let yourself go here. Thank you.
1. Wow, I really don’t think of myself as ‘awesome.’ More like… passable. Able to be tolerated. Okay in small doses. I also do not think of myself as ‘confident.’ Can you tell? I’m kind of a moody pessimist and am prone to bouts of heightened anxiety. But I guess I’m good at some things… writing, being funny, a bit of graphic design, cooking and baking, all sorts of paper-craft stuff like custom designed cards and invitations and even origami. And sleeping. I’m great at that.
2. I’ve never thought of myself as someone good at making friends, but I think I have some here. I think these are deserving of being called ‘epically awesome.’
I’m sure some, most, or all of these have already received this award, but I want them to know I think they’re awesome, too. Some have been great friends to me… others I don’t know as well but I love all of these blogs…
Wandering Soul
Sass and Sauce
Stephellaneous
The Great Journey (back at you! :))
The Tawdry Tales of Tess
The Turtle Way
Torn Pages & Coffee Stains
Wanderlushed
3. Well, you can read my fiction (at least what I’ve posted to this blog). And I just started ‘fiction friday‘ and even made the fancy title logo for it myself. I thought that came out great… I was very happy with it. Hm… and one time my daughter had a Tinkerbell birthday party… here’s the cake I made… with matching cupcakes…
4. Let myself go… hm…
I need to stop now… before I start sounding crazy. Or… more crazy. Plus, I’m not sure if more than 1 or 2 of you actually read all the way to the end of this post! Ha!
xo
I have been a giant slacker in responding to the lovely recognition from Waterblogged for the Real (please, RealLY!) Neat Blog Award. So… Thank you! [Especially since I like romance and cheesy stuff and I know you don’t!]
And today I received another Liebster nom from Paul at wwwpalfitness — Thank you!
This is my second nom for the Real(ly) Neat Award and my third Liebster Award — my seventh and eighth awards since I started this blog. I am honored and flattered to be chosen. And I’m still stunned every time I receive a notification for anything like this. Mostly because I still cannot believe anyone actually reads… and enjoys… what I write.
I don’t want to break anything here, but I’m a bit overwhelmed at the moment, so I’m just going to answer the questions for now and give a giant THANKS to Waterblogged and Paul. (And you’re all going to know even more about me you may never have wanted to know!) I’m sorry if this is somehow wrong, but I’m pretty sure every blog I would nominate has already received these or other awards from me or someone else!
Answers to questions from Waterblogged:
-1- The last book you read from a foreign author?
Do Harry Potter books count? My son and I read the Half Blood Prince at the same time. It was fun to chat about each chapter! I am in the US, so JK Rowling is ‘foreign’-ish!
-2- Christmas in Finland or Christmas in Antigua?
Can I switch off every other year? Honestly, I’d miss the snow, so Finland. Then Antigua for New Year’s.
-3- If you could choose where to live (regardless of family, your commitments, etc.) – where would you live?
Directly along the coast somewhere in Hawaii. With my own private beach.
-4- Somebody you admire – why?
Teachers. I could never be a teacher and I admire those who can. I think it must be one of the most difficult jobs yet people choose to become a teacher anyway. It can be frustrating and exhausting and, unfortunately, these days, dangerous. Yet there are truly amazing teachers out there.
-5- What did you do for your last holiday?
Do you mean holiday as in vacation? I haven’t traveled for a long time, but whenever everyone’s home on a break from school or work, we do fun family things – play games, visit family, cook together, build cities out of LEGO…
-6- Your favourite book?
I’m pretty sure my honest answer to this would horrify some of you. I think I’m going to keep this one a secret… for now anyway.
-7- Do you prefer travelling by ship or plane?
Being in the middle of the ocean or other such body of water scares me, so I’d have to say plane. But… I’m not very keen on flying either. I like to drive!
Answers to questions from Paul:
-1- Why did you start your blog?
I love to write and I thought maybe someone would read my fiction or read my personal stories and find some solace in knowing someone else has felt what they may be feeling.
-2- What do you write about and do you intend on adding to your categories?
I write fiction, personal stuff about pretty much anything, the occasional recipe when something is especially good. Not sure if I will add, but that’s certainly a possibility!
-3- What categories do you like the most?
I like writing and reading fiction. And I also benefit from a good rant every now and then.
-4- Which bloggers are in your top ten list?
Oh God, I hate to choose 10 from those I follow because I know I’ll leave out someone whose blog I love but couldn’t list them all!!
-5- What is your favorite meal?
I don’t have it often because, well, obvious reasons, but… big fat juicy cheeseburger.
-6- Do you rather cook or go out to eat?
I’d rather cook… except for the big fat juicy cheeseburger. (I like those from Five Guys… or several other places in the area.)
-7- What is your favorite movie or book?
I realize I am an adult… and only getting older, but truly Tangled (Disney) was one of the best movies I’ve ever seen.
-8- What time do you go to sleep at night?
Lately, it’s between 3 and 4 am… which is bad!
-9- What is your current job?
Laid off / Unemployed / Don’t know what I want to do…
-10- Do you have any pets and if so tell us.
I had a cat for about 15 years. A black one named Spooky. We have not had any other pets since him.
-11- Which Holiday is your favorite?
Used to be Halloween, but I don’t dress up anymore. Still fun with the kids, though. Now I’d say Independence Day because we get together at Mom’s and go swimming.
Thank you again!
Anxiety sneaks up on me. I know it’s always there somewhere. But it lunges at me randomly, unpredictably. It grows into this huge fireball. It rolls around inside me, hurting my heart, making my stomach burn, tensing every muscle, rushing to my head to push sobs and waves of tears from my eyes until I’m dehydrated.
I don’t understand why this happens to me. I don’t understand why my breathing becomes so erratic that unconsciousness feels imminent. I don’t understand why I can’t be fixed.
I have been seeing a nurse who specializes in mental health for just over a year. It’s not talk therapy. [But maybe I need that?] I see her for medication management. I know some people think anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds are bad. They turn you into a zombie with no feelings at all. You become a robot. None if this has ever been true for me.
I have been taking medication for over a year. [And this last year isn’t the first time for me + meds, but I won’t get into my history right now – it is a bit involved.] Clearly, the medication is not making me a zombie or anything resembling one since I still have anxiety attacks… and I still have periods of unexplainable, weepy, extreme sadness. I think the attacks are less frequent. And the extreme depressive periods seem shorter. But they are not gone. I don’t think they will ever be gone. And sometimes that’s too much for me to handle.
I’m going to be like this forever.
I need to explain this to my nurse. I visit her once each month (next appointment is this Tuesday). She asks me how I’m doing and I say okay or all right or something along those lines. And I think I’m lying. Yes, sometimes I feel okay. But sometimes I don’t. And when I don’t, I really don’t. And I haven’t really been telling her that because I don’t know how.
The way I feel… what she needs to know… I can’t find the words. The lack-of-job/money situation is scaring the hell out of me, but I can’t fix it. I can’t find a job… I can barely look. Just typing those words is making me sob uncontrollably right this very minute. How can I do anything about my unemployment if I slip into a panic attack every time I think about it? I can’t find a solution.
I don’t think there is a solution.
I need to explain that some days I just want to stay in bed. Forever. Sad and hopeless and knowing my only escape from all of it is sleep. How can she believe any of that when I manage to go to every appointment? How do I explain that most days, I can’t bear to be around people (outside of the 3 I live with). Most days, I hate to leave the house. I go out when I must – appointments, pick up kids from school, buy groceries for my family – and that’s it. I don’t go anywhere else. I don’t walk out my door if I don’t have to. If the phone rings or the doorbell dings, I sit, frozen in silence and wait for whomever it is to go away.
I have to explain that I don’t have any sort of support in my life. I don’t have any friends. Yes, there are people who love me and want me to be happy, but they don’t understand what goes on in my head. And I don’t expect them to. And I don’t want to burden the people who love me. But, God, it makes me feel lonely no matter who is with me… J, our kids, mom, sisters, anyone… yet no one.
Even when we’re together, I’m still alone.
When she suggests therapy [and she very well may], I have to tell her that I’ve been in therapy before and it has never done jack shit for me. I feel desperate to talk to someone who will understand and maybe even help. But I don’t think that’s possible. And the whole money/unemployment thing – I cannot afford a copayment for every visit to a therapist. Once a month with my med nurse is already more than I wish I was dishing out since I have zero income.
I need to explain that even though I love my family and my life isn’t a horror show, I am not happy. I’ve had moments in my life where I felt happiness. But I don’t think I’ve ever been happy. I don’t know what that is. I don’t know what that feels like. Except for the fictional version of it I create in my writing.
I should tell her that I could be doing tons of things with my time since I’m not working. We have a bunch of DIY home projects that I could be working on. I need to weed out the clothes that no longer fit from my kids’ closets. I need to sort through the crap in the attic to see what we can get rid of. I could have been doing these things (and many more) all along… ever since the day I got laid off. But I haven’t done anything. I have no motivation. I have no desire… to do much of anything. Most of the time, I think I just don’t care.
I have to explain that even though I know I’m a good mom, even though I think I have talent in a few areas, even though J loves me… despite all of that, I don’t love me. I have never loved me. I don’t know how. I hate so many parts of my life. I hate the decisions I made that got me here. I hate that I’m so weak that I cannot stop feeling this way. I hate that genetics may mean that one or both of my children may feel like this at some point in their lives. That’s my fault. It’s on me. And it rips me apart.
And I hate that I have no idea how to explain any of this to my nurse at my 15-minute appointment on Tuesday. I hate that when she asks how I’m doing, I’m just going to say ‘I’m all right’ like I always do and that’ll be the end of it.
I even kind of hate that I’m going to publish this post.
I have a problem with baking for special occasions. I have amassed so many dessert recipes [mostly on Pinterest] that I rarely bring the same dessert twice. Every occasion, I try something new. Some have been good. A couple were complete failures [seriously, did no one test the recipe before posting it online for the world…? I mean, come on… cheesecake batter should not be the consistency of milk!]. And some have been so delicious it’s crazy I haven’t made them again!
I haven’t made any decisions about Christmas yet. I’ve been too busy bitching about how much the holiday season heightens my anxiety. But I’m sure, even though the Lemon Pound Cake with Sugar Glaze was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever tasted in my life, I’ll probably try something new. What the hell is wrong with me?
[And now I’m fantasizing about that pound cake. <insert long dreamy sigh>]
I love oatmeal. Oatmeal cookies, oatmeal bars, oatmeal oatmeal. And perhaps especially oatmeal cookie dough. I plop the drops of dough onto the pan but, my God, I do not have any need for baking those suckers. I’m pretty sure I enjoy the dough more than the cookies. Pure unadulterated oatmeal cookie dough. No raisins… no chocolate chips. Mmm.
So, the day before Thanksgiving, I made oatmeal cookie dough. Delicious, sugary, buttery sweet, oatmeal-y heaven. (Only, for these bars, I skipped the cinnamon and nutmeg because I knew chocolate was coming into the picture.) Still… there is no such thing as bad oatmeal cookie dough. But I had to reign in my carnal desire for that dough. [But I admit, I considered using a smaller baking pan so I’d have more for me… pre-baking. No no no! Bad Sandra!]
I loved the idea of fudge in the middle rather than chocolate chips mixed into the cookie dough. And it turned out quite wonderful. Rich and fudgy, but also oatmeal-cookie-ish. Yum.
IngredientsFudge:
1 cup sweetened condensed milk
2 cups chocolate chips
½ cup butter
1 teaspoon vanilla
Directions
I have been wanting to do this since my very first blog post. And now… I’m finally going to do it. I am. I swear I really am.
I think I was scared I’d be making promises I couldn’t keep. And I still have that fear. But I have the pleasure of knowing many of you now, and I’m pretty sure no one is going to tar and feather me if I miss a Friday. Because you all love me so much. [Yeah, my sense of humor is vividly imaginative.]
Before I freak out and back out… Welcome to Fiction Friday.
Every Friday, I will post a piece of my own fiction. [I will try really hard not to miss any.] Short, long, happy, sad, old, new, funny, fresh… any piece of my original work. Maybe some will even be parts of a single story, posted over a few weeks. I haven’t worked out every detail, but I’m hoping it’ll come together.
I hope you’ll visit each week for something new. And… as you may be aware, today is Friday. Enjoy…
Who the hell was that guy? Leaving… with her… touching her…?
I’m losing her. I can’t… God, I can’t lose her. I can’t breathe. I should follow them. No. I can’t do that. I have to let her go. For now.
It was cold outside, but he didn’t notice. He could only feel the miserable heaviness in his heart. She’s been with me my entire life. It’s always been us. Always. She’s my best friend. I miss her. How can I watch her with anyone else? She is… mine… isn’t she? I thought she was mine. She knows I love her. She has to know. God, what if she doesn’t know?
I have to go to her. Right now. I have to tell her I fell in love. I have to explain exactly what is happening. I thought she already knew. Oh God, I miss her so much. He gripped his jacket over his heart and took deep breaths, hoping to calm himself. But it wasn’t working. Nothing was helping. He paced the streets in agony. I want her. I need to be with her. I don’t know how to watch her with someone else. I wanted to grab that guy and throw him across the room. Don’t touch her! His heart raced and his hands trembled. He was in pain. I have to get the image of that guy touching her out of my head. It’s going to kill me.
He didn’t know where he was. Every street, every block – they all began to look the same. Seeing her that way broke him. I have never had anyone else like her in my life. And I don’t want anyone else. I only want her. She’s everything to me. She always has been… and now that we’ve gotten the closest we’ve ever been, it’s ending? It can’t. I am scared to death I’m losing her. No. Not possible. Right? Not after everything… and after… that night… Oh God. This cannot be happening. I cannot let this happen.
He gasped, inhaled a long deep breath, and stopped walking. Where the hell am I? Oh my God. He slowly pulled his phone from his pocket while staring up at the windows of her building.
~~
You may remember Aunt Dumbass from this post. I almost couldn’t wait to see her today and discover new levels of dumbassery. But it was not to be. Dreams shattered.
While sitting in ridiculously excessive traffic, I texted my sister, D. [Don’t worry – J (my husband) was driving, not me.]
Me: In traffic… only 20 minutes from home but we’ve been in the car for 45.
D: Ok. Be careful of crazy drivers.
Me: Hopefully the traffic breaks up soon.
D: BTW, Uncle Joe and [Aunt Dumbass] cannot make it. Dog is quite sick.
[Aunt Dumbass is my rephrasing… D did not call her that! Though I would have laughed my ass off if she did.]
And then D sent me a video of my nephew asking when my kids were going to be there. Adorable.
We finally arrived at Mom’s, only about an hour later than planned. [I am NOT thankful for Boston-area traffic.] Dinner was nearly ready and it smelled delicious.
I was especially happy to see my cousin Joey. He is the sweetest guy and he’s been through hell. He lost both of his brothers years ago (at different times) and he, himself, has a brain tumor. He seems like he’s doing really well – a stranger would never know he wasn’t perfectly healthy. But Mom tells me it’s not good… it’s coming back… he doesn’t want any more treatment. [My tragic cousins… 3 brothers… a story for another post.]
So… food. Made by my brother-in-law the chef. Everything was delicious… except sweet potatoes. I hate sweet potatoes. They are vile.
And let’s not forget dessert. We always have far too many desserts. [I made Oat Fudge Bars. They were rich and fudgy and oatmeal cookie-y and amazing – I will have to post the recipe.]
Of course, dessert is soured by the dreaded Christmas conversation. I kind of hate nearly everything about Christmas at this point in my life. [Later.] But we manage to enjoy dessert.
Staring at birds and squirrels while waiting for sweets:
my daughter, my nephew, my son.
My son was thrilled with every single thing on that table that contained chocolate of any kind. My daughter wanted to try the apple crisp. J (husband) is all about pumpkin pie (something I find just as vile as sweet potatoes, maybe more). I had a scoop of apple crisp and a ‘Magic Square’ (what many call a 7-Layer Bar). And coffee. Much coffee.
We had a ton of laughs trying to decide how to do the gift exchange this Christmas Eve. We finally decided to do 2 swaps this year. One will be a re-gift – find something from home that is in great shape and is useful, but never used. The other will be a more traditional swap, but the gift has to be something that starts with a letter from my late Gram’s name. (The letters are A, K, M, N, R – her first and last name consist of only these 5 letters!)
We finally headed home. And we encountered a similar fate to the one we experienced on the way down.
Joy. It’s the most [irritating, annoying, stressful, frustrating, exhausting] time of the year.
Liam Sullivan's Ideas and Reflections
Wordpress simulcast of the official A to Z Challenge blog
“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.” — Maya Angelou
Photos, art, and a little bit of LIT.
A Look on the Brighter Side of Life
A writer with no name 👽
what sandra thinks 