Friday, July 2, 2010


LoL , yeah I know. I'm supposed to be on holiday but things happen even in this slacker life.

First I'm going to post something here. It's from something I wrote on another blog awhile back. Maybe it could explain a bit. Turn a river. Prevent someone from feeling uncomfortable in their life choices.

It's about the first time I laughed. After my son died.

And some days? Aren’t.

“…One day at a time is the best way to deal with this. And trust me there are going to be good days as well as bad ones. I still remember the first time I really laughed after my family member died. First I laughed out loud and then I stopped in a kind of shocked silence. It felt so good to be happy after being sad for so long. After that I began to look out side of my grief at the world. Still had the bad days but there were good ones too. Now more good than bad…”

I was writing to someone who'd lost a loved one. It's so hard. This week I talked to yet another person who'd lost someone close to them. She had the same experience that I did. So did her mom. There is that moment when enough time has passed that you laugh. Then in some cruel mean thing the second after that laugh you feel this tremendous guilt for being happy. How can you be happy after someone you'd loved so much has experienced such pain. You should always feel that pain too.

You shouldn't but the thing is that a person at that stage of grief is in pain.

As time passes, months for some and years for others, the pain or your reaction to it changes. You do forget but you come to realize that to make yourself feel so sad as a kind of punishment for surviving isn't right. You begin to see that being happy and going on with your life is really a good thing. For me that laughter took a while to change from a blue to a delightful yellow. It just takes time.

I watch Craig Ferguson for a reason. You see for some unknown reason he was the person who got me to laugh. The very first time that I saw his show and he told a joke, I laughed. Since then I've begun a kind of self directed laugh "therapy". It's worked. I've begun to "color". Life that had been black and white became like those old technicolor movies. Oh, it took a while for the unhappy to fade but it did. Then last year when I got to go see water again I felt joy. The old joy came back. Like a seed it grew. Happy. It started with that very first laugh.

(I'm sorry for the sentence fragments but it seems like a good idea to leave them be.)

I used to have a writing buddy. She once was in the process of writing a story when I asked her not to kill off the main characters. It was a beautiful story but I'd read enough of her stories to know that the ending probably would be all kinds of uncomfortable. After I asked she told me not to analyze the story but to feel and enjoy it just where it was and each minute until it's conculsion. She told me that to understand the story I needed to feel it. If I analyzed it I'd have to break it into pieces. That would tear the story and the viseral feeling. Now I think that is how my life is. I don't want to analyze it because it's taken me so long to get where I can feel it again. Happy. Sad. Joy or sorrow are in perspective. Nolonger colored by the pain of losing my son.


A kids song from my Sunday School days.

"I've got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart. Down in my heart. Down in my heart."

It feels pretty good.

I know that these last couple of posts have seemed odd and out of character. This is truly ironic. My writing and blogs is me being a writer. In order to learn to create believeable characters, the "I" of the writer, the id, must be secondary to the story. True there is the writer's voice but that's just the house of words where the characters live. It is ironic because these "uncharacteristic" blog posts are actually very characteristic of the real me. If I had this "life"? I'd be exhausted.

LOL I'm not broken. It's the opposite. I've been healing. Gently. Trying to laugh every day. The laughter feels very very good. It's made me appreciate the happy. You know like the morning after a storm when it's sunny. Everyone is safe.




PS Now I'll go back to writing this character who I have great affection for.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

For a friend..


because you're hugs have made me into a pragmatic optimist.

(Even while the world is trying to beat me into a raging cynic.LOL)


"Songs are like dream stories. They're the ideas that are important to us told sometimes in snapshots and (if we are lucky) in long, lovely complete (and complex) sentences."

AuthorAnn 1 July, 2010

Friend, I'm glad to have your kind hugs. They are like rainbows on a rainyday.

Hugs right back and happy holiday to you too. :)

Rainbow connection...

Then there's the version that seems like home.

"Songs are like dream stories. They're the things that are important to us told sometimes in photographs and if we're lucky in long, lovely complete sentences."

Author Ann 1 July,2010.

I guess since I'm quoting myself it's okay to change it to:

"Songs are like dream stories. They're the ideas that are important to us told sometimes in snapshots and (if we are lucky) in long, lovely complete (and complex) sentences."

1 July, 2010

Yep, that'll do.

Happy holiday.

While we're still able ...

LOL Funny.

I'd tell you about my day but really do you want to hear about it?

How about the tshirt look on Craig Ferguson?

So this morning I woke up from a dream. I was dreaming about Jimmy Fallon and that I lost a tooth. Then I got up. Went to do my business and guess what? I went back to bed. Because it was 5am when I did this and it looked like rain.

This morning I asked someone if they wanted to go to the big BBQ do at the sailclub.

They said yes.

So I guess this 4th I'll celebrate on the 3rd by eating chicken. LOL

Hope you have a great day.


PS. The tshirt look on Craig Ferguson? Nice. Take a look.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Uh oh. So I was just minding my own business when..

All I said was that being able to say the word, "no", was an important life skill. Unfortunately they left out the importance of knowing who NOT to say no too on my "Taking Back You" life empowering tape. No one told me that folks might say "no" back. Now there are some folks who are no longer talking to me. I'm sure that information is making them shiver with happy.

I don't care.


Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna' dance around my yard in my boxers yellin' the word "no" over and over at the top of my lungs. Only wish that I could do it in slow motion through the water sprinklers. Yeeehaaawww.

Think anyone will notice?


Was looking for Shelby Lynn ...

... and found Alison Moorer.

A Soft Place to Fall

I live out in the country. In the afternoon, when it's hot like this, we've been known to get in the truck, roll down the windows, and just drive. You say you're going to the Dollar General to get a soda but you might end up at some hole in the wall in the middle of nowhere.

It's all just an excuse.

If we're lucky you get good reception on the radio. The one in the truck is on it's last legs. Lots of ducktape involved. Tuner nob is bent. That's a puzzle. If I was younger and a bit more athletic I could blame it on a Saturday night. I don't think I will. Truth is, like much of my life, I just don't know.

At least the music is good. :D

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

cubical blues

I sit
in this box

9 to 5

writing words

Lunch before 3

If I'm lucky.

Happy hour @ six if I'm not.

I write words like a ghost.

For someone who'll call them their own.

They laugh and preen.

While I write here.

Jason's gossip

The yellow highlighter of the bright spots of this day.

The white out gizmo and alcohol

Cover up the mistakes.


Author Ann

Day after day after day ...

LOL the computer fairy is busy again eating my poetry. I hope it gets a massive case of computer indigestion

ding, ding, di, ding ding

I was just asked if I'd be happy living on the coast.

To which I replied,



Now the question is, "Which coast?", "Is there a live aboard sailboat involved?", and "Do I get a writing job that pays actual money?"


No it's not related, just something to read while you're waiting.

While I sit on this milk crate and write you a letter...

I got bit by a tick.
The Google didn't help much as I now know that I'll have to wait maybe years to see if I've got some vicious tick disease.

This tent my folks gave me is getting kind of hot.

Not to worry. As long as I've got Twitter, my blog, and Marybelle my prized milk goat?

I'm okay.

:D Being strong.

Goat Herder Boy.

Written on

Doctor's Waiting Room Lit Class...

I'm really enjoying this song. Especially after this weekend.

Sigh, looks like the Unhappy Fairy has made a visit.

I wanted to post the new video but apparently that's a no no too.

LOL No problem.

Here's a link to another posting of this song.

"Who cares if you disagree. You are not me. You can't tell me who to be. Who died and made you king of anything."

I love Sara Bareilles music.

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