Having somewhere to go... is home.

Three years ago tonight, a woman went to bed. She went to bed and never woke up. I will never hear her voice or see her face again in this life. What more do you really need to know about the end of someones life. Over the past few years I've searched my soul for the answers. Still don't have them and am finally coming to the conclusion I will never have them. People give up or others give up on them, or sometimes it's a little of both.
A convicted felon may have gotten away with murder or a beautiful broken heart may have given herself bittersweet relief, or a series of unfortunate events could have done something neither of them had even expected. What I know is either scenario leaves far too many questions for any of us that loved her to ever answer. The simplest easiest to digest way to say it is she went to bed and never woke up but the fact is like every rock star she went to bed, likely choked on her own fluids, drowned after coughing and choking for at least a couple minutes and then she was gone. I'm no doctor, I have never seen someone overdose but I'm guessing it was something more like that and less like some peaceful elderly woman passing in her sleep. The story is only magnified by the neighbors tales that the man in the very next room with the dogs barking and the possible motive sat in the living room watching his football telling the dogs to shut up and turning the TV up. This is the shit sadness is made of, I can't prove she killed herself and I can't prove he killed her. I can prove he was a bastard, I have my own proof of that, but I can't prove he killed her. She was sad and she had pain like only a Brickhouse would know, but I can't bring myself to believe a woman who always had a plan would have planned death.

I was 27 years old, had just started a new job and couldn't take a day to process the shittiest wake up call ever. I had no time. My brother called and I remember going through the motions, I remember going over what I knew then of the situation and thinking, it doesn't add up. I remember sleeping with a picture for awhile and being sad and silent. The silence death leaves inside of you is a cruel sound that's the only way I can explain it and each time, with each loss that silence gets louder. Some days I choose to hear it telling me to live, other days, I have to fight it just to do shit I want to do, to get out of bed and have even what I know is going to be a good day. This year there's been a shift in the power of that silence, a stifling of the fighting spirit of death and an overwhelming change in the tone of that loud crowd in the distance chanting, "Do something, Live, be a better you.". The silence doesn't taunt me lately so much as teach me and while I may, continue to at times daydream of my Aunt being off on a tropical island with a new name and identity, laughing at how well she planned her escape. I know my Nancy is not in witness protection anymore than Mike Crouse is going to walk through my door and tell me a racist joke, or my Black G-mo is sharing beauty tips with Richie Cunningham AND is going to be canonized, but each of these thoughts make me smile and sometimes even laugh out loud for seemingly no apparent reason at times. Especially that last one, that one is sure to crack a smile on even the worst of days.

The thing is, people die, they leave us with memories and love and a shitload of laughter, they give us all the chances they can to love them and be loved by them and then they're gone. Will the way my Aunt, my person, my Nancy died, forever haunt me? Forever. Do I have to spend tomorrow as angry as I want to be, angry at the whole world for shit that can't be changed? I submit that I can simply spend tomorrow living, that I can change the tone of the entire day if I just take a day, a personal day, a very, personal day and do something to remember the shit that makes life live-able. I mean being honest I may wake up tomorrow only to go back to bed, I may wake up and make art or read a book or clean my house like a madwoman. I know for the first time in 3 years I have time at that job I had to go to and smile while my soul cried and so I'm gonna take my time and I'm gonna use it effectively, and do my absolute best to remember shit other than how sad and painful and alone it must have been to go to bed and never wake up. At some point I will probably go to the sea wall and miss my Aunt, I'll replay my last conversation with her in my head and try to remember her voice and all the things she ever tried to teach me. The only difference between tomorrow and every other day for me is that tomorrow I spend the whole day wondering and angry that the whole entire world isn't stopping to miss her too.

Four simple things in this bitch before...

Recently, I've been examining my life in a million different ways. Looking at what I want, where I've been and who I've become. I've discovered some shit and uncovered other shit, I'm ever a work in progress. Over the last few weekends I've danced more, lived more and done more than I had in awhile. My house is cleaner than it's been since the summer began and my life is getting itself together. The other night I went out with a friend and this girl from out of town I'd never met, she was a nice girl, talked a lot but nice none the less.We ended up going to see this guy I know play piano requests at this bar. At the end of the night I was taking her home and she was drunk, not that obnoxious drunk some girls get but ya know the honest and funny drunk.She said to me after a night of dancing, "I wish I could be like that, dance like that." The statement struck me funny, and I thought and I think even said, - what like a crazy person, like no one's watching, like I don't give a shit? - I don't though, not really and man did i have a good time. At another point on the way home she asked something about how they knew my name, but she was drunk and kept calling me Maggie so it took me a minute to figure out what she was talking about. She thought it was neat that the Bartender and The Piano Man both knew my name. Now, I've known the piano player a few years and even had an adventure or two with him since we met, he always says hello to me and I to him. He's a goddamned amazing musician as are many people I've met along the way but that's how I know him, a good guy who makes sweet music and always says hello. The bartender, I'm pretty sure she reads the names off the cards people give her when they start a tab and she calls you by name to remember what tab shes adding to. I thought about what this vibrant and drunk out of towner was saying to me and briefly considered the events of the evening and responded to her with a laugh and told her that if you're good to people they're generally good to you.

I believe that. I also believe it's a matter of choosing cautiously who to be good to. There are people in all of our lives we can't explain, people we love without really trying or even wanting too. We love anyways. I think I've mentioned it before on here but I'm a sucker for homeless people, If there's change in my pocket and they have a good sign, every penny is theirs. When I was younger I remember a trip to New York where my grandmother got upset with me because I wanted to give a man my change. It wasn't much, I was a kid but the man was hungry. I didn't know then but there was a lesson on that moment. You choose who you are, just about as much as the people around you mold who you are. If I didn't set some boundaries and slim down some of my criteria for handing my change over to every homeless or hungry person I'd be broke by now. A good sign, a little trust and a whole lot of faith will get you anything I can give ~ without going to the poor house myself. I choose to see the good in people but not forget the bad. I've never met a person who won't show you their bad within 10 minutes of meeting them. It's just a matter of being willing to accept and acknowledge it. If you can't do both, they probably don't need to be in your life.

 I'm on the verge of big changes, the kind of changes that give broken wing dreams a whole new chance to heal and get strong again. Change takes forever though, so in the meantime I'm just trying to keep my head above water. I'm on this renewed mission to be better, to just go with the flow, to dance more, to fuck what people think and just keep taking care of me and mine, to enjoy every moment with the people in my life who want to be in my life. That's the point, the meaning of life, enjoy it. Be good to people, acknowledge who you are accepting into your life. Dance, regularly and say hello once in awhile, you'd be surprised how far that shit will get you, and if all else fails, fall back on ~fuck bitches, get money~, Seriously though...

Movers and shakers.

When I was twelve, I knew what I wanted. So, I thought. Then I got older, not grew, but got older. Then I thought, I'm a fuckin teenager, I know what I want. Jeebus, I knew so well what I wanted, and for a few years I chased that teenager making wants into needs. I chased and I ran and I pushed and flailed around like a bull in a china shop after shit that was just never going to happen. I'd like to say I always knew I was going to turn out this awesome, the truth though is I live in fear of failure. When I was ten I wanted desperately to climb into the radio and learn everything about it, wanted to be the voice inside the radio, with the power to play that funky music and be heard by so many people everyday. When I was twenty I went to broadcasting school and I learned about how to be who I thought I wanted to be - when I was ten. I don't remember anymore how old I was when I decided I'd be a truck driver. I remember how and where that decision was made but I can't recall when. A few months before my twenty-second birthday I went and did that shit. It was one of the craziest adventures I've ever, really, lived. It wasn't who I really wanted to be either, but I learned. I learned so much, not the least of which was being tall is amazing, for awhile, until it's not anymore. Crashing from great heights is one, painful, overwhelming ride to earth. That's the best I can do to explain that experience for me. Failure.

At twelve we still have no idea what the worst case scenario for us actually is. We're pure, naive, blissfully unaware and loving it despite all the shit that could have happened in twelve years of life. Every twelve year old has seen some shit that we as adults looking in would think was insane, shit a twelve year old should never see. The thing is at twelve we have no idea these things truly have any meaning or effect. Think about the shit you dreamed of when you were that age. Consider for a second  the ridiculous ideas you had about the world way back then. There's not a person alive over twenty that carried every last piece of that innocence along with them into adulthood. We all get lost, damaged, jaded the more we learn about how it works to grow. Painful yet beautiful in all the places it should be. When you're a kid you just want things. You don't know things though. As you grow, you learn and you want more important things. Increasingly more important things.

Two days before my Aunt died I wrote myself a note about who I wanted to become over the next few years of my life. New years was coming and I wasn't so much making a resolution as a declaration to myself. I wanted to be more like the person I wanted to become at twelve. I wanted to go back to the basics, my bare bones dreams and wants. This time though I'd be going in with my eyes open and feet on the ground. Sure, why not. To take care of myself. Simple, I wanted my life back. Back from the pain of each lesson learned and the sadness of failure. I wanted freedom. I made a decision based on the brief thoughts, could I do this, would I do this. I could love my life, I would love my life. I've taken great steps towards becoming the most basic version of myself . I've grown and I'm still searching for light and food and water to continue growing with. The best decisions I ever make regarding anything of substance in my life are the difference between I could and I would. I could for a lifetime or I would for  lifetime. I would if given the chance. I could find my way to any broken winged dream my remaining little wing could carry me to. A broken wing alone though will only get you so far, alone. Two days after I declared myself ready for change, my Aunt died and about three months after that my Grandmother. Death is ever the abrupt game changer. I learned so much about them, about myself, my family and friends within the months and years since those events. Mostly though I've realized life is all about how you live it. I hope I'm living for the right things and I know I'm living for the things I want for myself. I just also hope I know, by now, who I really am right now. I don't think either of them really did know themselves when they passed into whatever's next, at least not well enough to expect more or be better. I want to be whoever it is that I really am when I grow up, as I grow up and become tall once again. This time if I reach those great heights I want some cushions, maybe a trampoline. I want to be ready to bounce instead of break, and that is who we all were once and who we could all become. If we wanted to, if we would. I would do a lot for the people I love and that includes myself. Everything is possible if we just live like it is, like it was.

A game of horshoe.

There are people in your life who want things from you. There are people in everyone's lives who want things from them. That's just the way it is. The trick is finding the people who want things for us as well. Sounds simple enough, but it's not. We are by nature a needy species even greedy at times, but we have the ability to surpass those instincts a thousand times over with even just a drop of love and kindness. There are many people who have saved me in my life, none of them ever wanted anything for it but a better effort. Even that is probably more self imposed than anything else. Life is a tiny fragile thing and a giant all powerful volcano at the same exact time. Danger and beauty, and we survive them all with a little balance. Without the people in our lives that not only want something from us but for us, we don't stand a chance. That shit is frightening as hell. Imagine having no one when things get bad, imagine that ya'll, imagine that. The people in my world that I love, for them I want the world and everything in it, possibly, maybe a favor now and again but I'm pretty certain that is a two way street and so some balance comes into play.

I've always had a belief that if you know what someone's all about, if they show themselves to you and you can handle them warts and all, then you should be able to accept their behavior, for the most part without judgement. Bitch about things all you want but at the end of the day love them for who they are. I'm aware it's a somewhat flawed way of thinking considering all facets of my life and the contradictions this seemingly brings. I am hypocritical in where I draw my boundaries from friend to friend. For the most part though my expectations of each of these people I keep in my life are fairly clear. I expect them to be the people I saw them becoming when I made them part of my life and I expect nothing less from myself. When someone I love accomplishes something amazing, yea I won't lie I get a little bitter for a minute, but I spend a whole lifetime proud that I knew them when...

I have no shortage of crazy fucked up people in my life but all that is dwarfed for me by the potential, the future, the sparkle I see in these crazy fucked up peoples. We all need people, we all need love and I don't think it matters where a person comes from if you can see where they can go. If that doesn't trump the past then you're not looking towards the future.

Internal what? Change, the word is change...

Four days ago, I reached a milestone, an event, a fucking miracle, I turned 30. After a particularly depressing 29th birthday I made a somewhat last minute decision to take a road trip this year. Suffice it to say due to somewhat poor planning I spent most of my time driving. Despite my lack of accounting for traffic, time, miles and space in an utter disregard for logic and everything I learned in two and a half years of truck driving, most of my weekend was spent behind the wheel of my Toyota. This afforded me a rare opportunity to do a shitload of soul searching and clear out the cobwebs of some excruciatingly dusty corners of my mind. By the end of this jam packed emotional adventure I realized with a random memory of someone else's ignorance how good my life really is. Not to say I don't get the occasional monsoon season  of shit sandwiches from time to time but I really lucked out in the family and friends department. The random memory you ask? I'll get there, I swear, but first allow me some time to reminisce.

A long time ago in a land far away I sat, at my brothers football game, admiring two skater boys wishing, as young girls often do, that either of these fine young punks would some day take me away from my horrible preteen life. A little over a year later, I walked into a room filled with kids just like me, who all looked just like themselves at 13 to probably early 20 something (and a few youthful adults). There, I met these two fine young punks and plenty of others, people who I am forever grateful to have had at that time in my life, some of which I will forever keep  close and others who I will always make time to say hello to or crack a smile for when our paths cross. It was a youth group for the misfit toys of my town and several surrounding ones. We were the weirdos and freaks, the goths, the geeks, the skaters and punks, and anything else your parents may have warned you against. We were a lost and found of wacky pieces, art, youth and a whole lot of strength, understanding, love and above all, hugs.
Every Friday night (that I wasn't grounded and even a few where I was) for my High school years we sat in a circle and discussed feelings and soap,(though I wasn't there that night) read poetry, sang songs, danced, relaxed, cried, learned, loved and grew, shared our keen fashion sense and made life long friends. I got a unique chance to meet people who would grow up to be Goddess like Drag queens, Hero's in an EMT uniform, Bikers, Artists, Musicians, Teachers, Small Business owners, Homeowners, Adventurers, Nurses, Parents, Role models,Authors, Unexpected Republicans... The list could go on and on but I think you get the gist. Yes, like in any other group of over (atleast) 300 teenagers some grew up to be no longer with us in one way or another, but overall I think our group of ever colorful shades of different, survive and thrive through even those tragic losses we may never understand. ~ Stay with me I'm bringin it back around to happier thoughts and even, eventually my point.

As kids, teenagers, young adults, we had no idea who we would become and as adults I think we only have slightly stronger legs to keep our search going long enough to get there. Wherever "there" is. We will all get "there" eventually and I believe those of us that had the chance to get to know all these colors of the rainbow (and the storm clouds that came before it), we got a jump start the average, run of the mill teenager never got. For one, we got a shitload of free therapy, more than that though we learned about who we were, that we could be heard, loved, seen. We got a chance to be ourselves, see ourselves, and others with open minds and open hearts, we got a chance to be and do better, than some of our parents, our classmates and even ourselves at times ever dreamed we could or would. 17 years after walking into that meeting room I have the privilege of calling those two young punks two of my best friends, my brothers. Many of the people I met there aren't part of my daily life in the most traditional sense but everyday I am alive and breathing they are part of who I am and where I come from ~ Family. Even if some are creepy cousins you're not really sure how to have a conversation with and one or two may only admit they know you discreetly when no ones looking, but whose family doesn't have a few of those...

In my weekend of soul searching and sunshine, I remembered myself at 13 and 16 and 19, 21, 25 and so on. I remembered the parts that hurt and the parts that made life livable, the moments days weeks and years  I never thought I'd make it through and like any sensible girl on a road trip, I sang Cyndi Lauper songs at the top of my lungs. Then I remembered, I survived it all with a little help from my friends, OK, alright, A LOT, of help from my friends and that isn't exactly a new realization. I knew before this fantastical road trip, slash emotional roller coaster, that I have an amazing family beyond blood and logic that help me through the darker days. What I think I never stopped to really consider  was that not everyone can say the same. There are people in this world who will never look at someone else, someone different and say hey, how ya doin, just because. People who will never accept the abstract or rebellious as beautiful or dance in the rain. People   who will never know family beyond mainstream societies simplistic definitions and blind eyes.

Today, The Supreme Court made history, yesterday A woman stood for nearly 11 hours to make an important point. Me, I, just survived another day. What got me through the day? The evolution of a people, people I know, people I knew and people I have never even met.

Somewhere around 15 years ago shortly after our youth group had marched in a memorial day parade - as our selves of course,  a woman I had at one point respected, a friends mom, (ya know because at the time you just automatically respected other kids parents.) came up to me at some church event I was forced into, to tell me how "disappointed" she was to see me with "Those kids". This was the thought that hit me as I hit the Connecticut state line on Monday ~ "Those kids" have grown into some of the most amazing, selfless, hardworking, strong, beautiful and independent people I have ever known and hopefully some of that rubbed off on me along with the goth make up, patchouli oil, rainbow socks, gay love and punk music. ~ Hopefully.

Dear Mrs. K.
     I accept the fact that you may very well be a good person who meant well, but I thought you were crazy then and 15 years later I'm so glad I didn't respect you enough to let you change me. You saw what you wanted to see, in the simplest terms and most convenient definitions. But what I found out is that you couldn't have been more wrong. Those freaks, were and are some of the best parts of who I became and strive to be. Life isn't simple or convenient, and a life lived doesn't fit neatly into any box. Life is beautiful though.
~ Sincerely yours #255

I'm not a hoarder but I was a girlscout.

Sometimes life gives you an opportunity. I do things for the story, I make decisions based on the view. This morning after much deliberation and a boatload of flip flopping, a decision was made. As the life we lead grows into this bigger more responsible role we all make hard decisions that sometimes seem easy to people who haven't lived in our shoes. "Its a no brainer, just do it...or don't". Some of these decisions really are staring us in the face with the best possible answer and others, not so much. In this case, the choice was between buying a home and moving to yet another apartment. Now, if you only consider the benefits of buying a home as your average american views them versus the downsides to renting, this may appear to be a simple answer. I have minimal debt, I have average credit and I would have a home in my price range paid off by 60 at the price I can afford right now. I also have shit to do and somewhat enjoy that while I've learned not to take off on my broken winged dreams just because I can ~ I still can. My bucketlist is incomplete and you know whats NOT on my bucketlist? Buying a house I don't really love just so I can say I own a home or feel like an "Adult". After years of figuring it out with ALOT of help from my friends I don't think this whole buying a house is what I need to prove to myself I am stable and grown. I'm growing but by no means am I grown. Buying a house isn't just roses and daydreams, its coming up with money to fix things and its a honey-do list of never ending improvements and bills, but it's an investment. I'd rather invest in something I love and I'd rather be on remotely solid ground when I make that kind of investment. I've been homeless and I've been broke, broker than broke really and after all things considered I'd rather invest soundly in never being either again. I would rather not choose between the two.

Buying a house is a fairly large commitment and I think by now we are all pretty clear on my issues with commitment. I reserve it to a scarce few people, things and ideas in my life. This is a fairly large commitment and I am not of the mind it should be taken lightly, I'm also afraid, admittedly of commitment to a mess, of any kind. With the exception of a truly beautiful one, I get pretty fuckin dumb over a beautiful mess, but how often do you find a truly beautiful mess in house form on a moderately minescule budget and with a mere 3 months to work. I'm not saying it's impossible I'm just saying, the shits rare and precious, you can't rush these types of things.

Tomorrow is never guaranteed and anything can happen in a day, after the last twenty or so years I've learned to follow the signs and walk through the open doors with a little more hope. I've also been hit in the head with a frying pan once or twice upon passing the threshold. It's a fifty fifty chance no matter which road you take, that's the journey, that's the adventure. It is not for the weak this living and life is far more complicated for each individual person than the world and times we live in seem to want to admit. I don't have children, I don't have credit cards, I don't have any giant looming debts and I can afford a house. On the flip side, I also don't have roots I can't simply replant. I have roughly 14 children whom I love more than cake, a few minor debts that I'd like to pay off over the next year and I can't afford to fix repair, update or upkeep a house alone. Make no mistake about it, I have many amazing people with wicked crazy skills in my life, but my fears are not unfounded and my people have taken care of me long enough, its time for a little relief. Thus, for all intended purposes I am alone on that road. A wise woman once told me no one takes care of you but you. I'd say I've disproved that theory enough times in my life this far. Like anything in life, there are times where that way of living is the coldest and hardest of truths. There are other times where its a giant steaming load of bullshit. The line, it's a thin line, but the line nonetheless is the something a wise man once told me ~ No one owes you anything in this life. This one is true more than it's not.

Here and now is a place, an opportunity, to gain firm footing, the training and chance to hit the ground sprinting rather than lackadaisically walking and false starting through the hand at life we've been dealing ourselves. I choose firm footing and it's a fifty fifty chance i'm choosing wisely, but the view gained from taking the road less wandered, is not always easy or simple but I enjoy what I can, that shit is priceless. I can't deny the urge to settle in and become part of the machine is strong but the urge to do it by my terms is brickhouse strong. If you can't afford it~and all the things that go along with it, don't fuckin buy it. I can't afford to roll through life at the pace of other peoples parades when I'm trying to run and dance to my own personal secondline. Life is short and whether you take the boat or the helicopter the less baggage you bring the easier it is move forward in any situation. I live as simply and minimally as possible, you learn that after you've lost enough things. You learn that it's not about things, it's about people, it's about experiences, stories and living. I want to live fully, I want to be everyone I wanted to be when I grew up, I want to be better at making lemonade. To do any of these things, any one at all, I NEED to proceed with caution. I need to take my time so I can be prepared and THAT is the wisest statement ever made by a Girlscout. ~ Be prepared. There is no easy decision, there are signs and instincts and they exist for a reason. Happiness is in choosing what's right for you based on those things and a carefully evaluated history of events. Happiness is not the shit you own,  it's a chunk of who you are. How many people do you know who are really truly one hundred percent happy? None, you know NONE, less than that even. How many people do you know who are striving to get there? If you're lucky like I am, the answer is most, most of the people I really know are busting their asses to find and achieve happiness. Every one of them is doing it their way, everyone of them is going somewhere. Not every one is going to choose the same road, and some of them will make it to the same places, but my gypsy tells me to keep a move on and that bitch hasn't missed much over the years.

When a problem comes along, you must...

I make bad decisions. I'm extremely good at it really, it's a special kind of skill. Over the past few years I've been really working towards making better bad decisions. You know, the kind of bad decisions that really don't hurt because while the shit you learn from them may be hard, they change your life in a good way. I've done a lot of things in a fairly short life. I don't regret much and I get better with age but the things I do all bring me somewhere closer to who I wanted to be when I was twelve. Not that I want to be exactly that person my twelve year old self envisioned me as, but the basics are slowly getting covered. Life is never going to turn out exactly as you envision. Life is living and its ugly and beautiful at exactly the same times and places. You move so quickly at times, towards things, wants, desires, fantasies, that you forget to just live. The only expectations that truly, honestly matter are, your own. Maybe the more you live, the less you care what anyone else thinks about how and on the rare occasion you do, happen to have, a single fuck to give for what another living person thinks, of you, or anything else. At the end of that fucking roller coaster of fear and foolishness, you are still standing with yourself and if you're lucky, a few really good friends. So even then, who really matters?


So I make these decisions to just do the shit people say not to, and I make these choices based on what feels right. Then, I live these ridiculous decisions out until they're over and the choices were clearly, unmistakably wrong sometimes and then, some of those times, I try something completely different but just as bad if not worse than the previous. It's like this revolving experiment in rebellion. From what? From who? For why? Oh, who the hell cares. Eventually, you start wanting to make better choices, you begin to bring it back to the basics. I didn't want much when I was a kid, I mean unless you count escaping and never coming back. As you grow the fuck up, you realize where you are might not be so bad. Home is a four letter word that isn't so horrible when  you figure out what it means. I still spend plenty of time wondering about wandering, but I've really begun to realize what I have, despite my worst decisions, is pretty damned good.


With these discoveries the person I am is on track with the person I wanted to be, and suddenly I'm making decisions that may not be so bad. The shit is scary, fucking terrifying, but exciting in a whole new way.It's as though somehow you have a clue what the hell you're doing and even if you don't, you're prepared, you can handle whatever comes, because you've been training for the worst but you're finally ready for shit to go right. The strangest thing happens, people start telling you your decisions might possibly be rational, logical even. There are people I've met along the way who I'm certain never thought I'd get too far. Perhaps to them I haven't made it very far at all. The beauty is, they have no idea where I've been and they may never see where I end up, but I'm glad they were part of it. Life is long, no matter how short, and it's built for mistakes and it supports its own adventures and its ours to do what we want with. Some of us want more and others want less. I'd like to think no one wants to be miserable and no one looks for disaster with any real hope of it happening, but what I actually think, is that plenty of people call that living and possibly for a while, even I did. There's more to life than work but you must work hard to live, to really live. Isn't that some shit right there.

There are people who actually spend their lives working to have more than they could ever need or use and they work so hard for this that they lose. They lose the time to do the little things in life, like pick up the phone for an old friend or play tag with a kid, or just simply say hello to a stranger and possibly make a new friend. We all miss out on these opportunities from time to time for various reasons but I find lately those little good decisions coupled with the lessons of those moderately larger bad ones, are starting to make one pretty good life for me. No two people ever live the same exact way, or experience even the same moments the same way. The world is filled with adventures in living and everyone is doing it differently even if it looks the same.

I met me at a strange time in my growth...

I used to know this Bartender, we called her Donna Do Ya Wanna, It was a lifetime ago. She used to Tape up my cigarettes when I wasn't looking.I'd go to smoke my next one and she'd be standin behind the bar with this big ass smile on her face and then tell me I shouldn't smoke so fuckin much. One Friday my Aunt and I were headin to the bar after work and she had to stop on the way so she told me to go ahead, she'd meet me there. Underage and stupid I said sure and headed down to see Donna Do Ya Wanna. I walk in alone, sit down and tell her I want a Budlight. She proceeds to ask me for my license and pop quiz me on my date of birth. I proceed to pass the quiz and advise her I forgot my license. The only reason I think I managed to convince her was because I really don't think I had my license with me that night, but after some jokes about my age and hers she finally gave me a beer. I tell her my Aunt is on her way, put my money on the bar in front of me and light up my cigarette. My Aunt showed up like 2 hours later, by which time Donna Do Ya Wanna has fed me atleast 6 beers and I was "possibly" drunk, Ok, "probably" drunk.My Aunt comes in has a few cocktails and we go home. A few weeks later, on my 21st birthday, my Aunt takes me to this bar Alphas down the street from my house. I had a Stoli and orange to match her Stoli and rasberry, we did a shot and went off to see Donna Do Ya Wanna where I proudly tossed her my license and asked for a beer. She called me little liar and handed me my beer. I drank with my Aunts and my Brother that night then went home, to a packed house, for a party my other family had thrown me at the house. At the time I lived with 5 guys not including the rotating guy on the couch, my other brothers.I don't remember everything about that not since i was possibly, probly, ok lets be honest I was, drunk as fuck. What I do remember is most, if not all of the people I wanted there were. I also recall a topless congo line and passing out as the sun came up among a few other things that weren't gone when the booze worked its way out of my system.

My Aunt is dead now along with one or two other people that were at that party but that was a kickass party, to end an insane week of birthday partying. Now almost 9 years earlier, I haven't spent a week celebrating my birthday since then but birthdays are still special. Even more so now than before, life is special, too special in some cases, just not quite special enough in others. I have this family of amazing brothers and a few real sisters who add to my already interesting, original family of misfits and weirdos. Some of them have even been reproducing and the thing about getting older is it's not the same as growth. You make it to another year, but you don't get handed all the tools to grow, you have to look for them, you have to earn them.

                            I still have a lot to earn but there's a lot I've learned in a short couple of years that seemed, frankly, way too long. Every mistaken turn and each fucked up, manic, decision has led me to the person I am today. My past is fuel for the next scary decision, emotion, change and I know many of the things I've done may not make for the best story, but I've got a shit ton of stories and a little to grow on, and that's how I know I'm living. Donna Do Ya Wanna calls me a liar to this day and she's likely the only person in my life I'd ever really let call me one. Because she cracks me up, because its a good story, because in that case its true. When it comes down to it I kinda hate lying, I have this belief that the only acceptable lie to tell is one that saves you from harm. I didn't always feel this way, it was something I earned along the way, like picking up fire power in Super Mario Brothers - the original -, I didn't know it was valuable til I got it. When I did, it was crystal clear to me that I needed to hold on to it if I intended to survive. I'm not exactly a good person but I do my best not to lie about dumb shit. In the same way, I do my best to keep holding on to the lessons of past mistakes in a positive way. Life is too precious, I know, it sounds cliche, but its the truth. We live and then we don't but someone else remembers something else we did  and that holds us over, carries us on in some greater way. I may be bat shit crazy, and I may have lived as a kaleidoscope of people I barely remember, but somewhere, someone remembers a version of me from 2002, 2006, 1997, 1985, 2009, and I hope that only the best parts of those versions came up with me to the next adventure, year, level, of life. Sometimes that means the sad parts too. I've never been who I am right  this moment and still I've been this person my whole life. That changes everything, and it's good, pretty damned good. Sure there's people missing but it's all part of exactly where I am and who I want to be. Sometimes, always, you're exactly who you're meant to be and occasionally that means you're going to be someone else and that person will also be you.