Tag: blogging

Power Outages

Some people say that when you are open to it, the Universe guides you. That it gives you gifts, like a mama cat leaving a half dead mouse on your pillow. It knows you need the nourishment, but even more so, that you need the experience.  The limitations of my experiences kept me for totally agreeing that was gospel. I think too much, second guess myself too often. And that’s clogged up my ability to see and review these gifts from the Universe. That is until this happened. This chain linked series of events opened my eyes and showed me that, if you pay attention sometimes you get just what you need to be laid right out in front of you.

In the early hours of a Tuesday morning, some unlucky bastard ran his car off the road and into a tree. The driver was fine, but the tree was not. It had found itself a brand new home by crashing into a substation that supplied power to a large section of this small town. That power outage split the lumbering county in half. The northern half had power, while those to the south were without.

It was on that Tuesday morning I had an appointment out in the southeastern part of town. I don’t follow local news so I had no idea there was a widespread power outage. My only concern was getting two kids into a car and being able to make an 8:45 am appointment. Ever try to get two kids under the age of 5 ready and out the door in a quick and timely manner? Yeah, it’s about as easy as tying snakes in knots. Somehow, we all ended up where we needed to be with ten minutes to spare. It was then that we caught up with local events.

“M’am, we ain’t got any power. You’re gonna have to call and reschedule.” A very exasperated lady standing in a darkened door hollered at me across the parking lot.

Seat belts were buckled and kid tears were shed. Apparently, not being able to go into the darkened unairconditioned building was heartbreaking. I pulled out of the parking lot only slightly more annoyed than I should have been and started home.

I passed the DMV, giving them a mental middle finger for making me wait the last time I was in there half a year before. I passed the consignment shop that had a mouse problem last time I had visited. I passed the yellow house with the little yellow well house out front that I’ve loved since I was a kid. I slowed down after that house because the new police station was just up ahead, right past the fabrication shop that was owned by one of my distant cousins. More specifically, my dad’s uncle’s son.

And there, sitting on the tailgate of a blue S-10 was my father.

Here is the part where I tell you that I’m not on best terms with my biological family. I’ll explain it all later, but remember Cinderella? Well, instead of an evil Stepmother and stepsisters, I had an evil Mother and a father who was on his third marriage and was getting close to his fifties when I was born. When I married my husband, the ties were severed. After a few tries, I realized that my mother just wasn’t good for my mental health. The drawback was that cutting her out, cut him out too. I’ve never fully recovered from that.

So to see him, after all these years, just sitting there talking smack with the fellas caught my breath in my throat. The decision was easy. I was there. I had a block of time suddenly empty. Without turning on my blinker, I gave in to the message the Universe was sending me. I turned into the gravel parking lot and got out of the car.

Two minutes later, I was wrapped in my father’s arms.

I want to tie this back to my original point. Because of a series of unfortunate events, I got to see my father. It was exactly what I needed. The Universe gift wrapped an experience just for me. And by not second guessing it, I received two things. One was a salve on a decade old wound. And the other was the first step of a relationship with something greater than myself.

I’m listening Universe. You don’t have to knock out the power to get my attention again. 

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Life, Death, and pictures on the Internet

The internet is a weird thing.

At it’s core, its a bunch of zeros and ones, arranged together in sequence, making something out of nothing. I can’t really explain how it all works. It’s all way beyond my realm of understanding. What I do know about the internet though, is that it can bring people together.

Let’s start at the beginning.

Half a million years ago, you know when Myspace was popular, I was a brand new adult discovering the world of body acceptance. I had always been the “ugly fat” girl. My mother started me on the path and the kids at school picked it up and ran. I never had good feelings about my body or my looks.  So after marrying my husband and having my first child, I realized, maybe that’s not who I was. Maybe , you know, I actually might be pretty. Somehow, I stumbled upon the world of online modeling. There was a site that was for plus size pin ups. I knew as soon as I saw the website and the ladies featured I wanted to be part of it. Luckily enough, after applying, I was accepted. And it was so much fun. It help bolstered my self love and helped me unveil my sexuality. More importantly, it gave me a wonderful group of lady friends. The type of friends I never really knew existed.

Friendships never were my strong point. When you’re raised by a paranoid narcissistic, you learn that the basic set up of the world is  “Us vs THEM”. If you weren’t genetically related to us (and sometimes if you were), if you disagreed with us (and sometimes if you didn’t), if you did better than us (or if you did worse) you were in the THEM camp. This fucked up mentality stuck with me until I clicked with these wonder women online. We were all different, but we were all the same too. We disagreed on somethings, and agreed on others. We walked different paths with different steps, but were still able to hold hands. The feelings of love and support was new and amazing and, I’m not shitting you here, changed my life.

As it does, time moved on. We all did our own thing and Myspace died at the murderous hands of Facebook. Our group of friends faced real life challenges and adventures. Marriages, divorces, births, deaths, relocations, and stagnations. We drifted then found each other. We lived our lives. We shared our stories. We loved each other.

Recently, one of my close lady friends from that group passed away. We were never able to met in person and, as the good ole Southern phrase goes, hug each others neck. But we were close. She watched my babies become kids, I watched her kids become men. We laughed, we cried, we lived. We exchanged letters and stories, gifts for the kids. We swapped clothes. We were sisters. And it was and will forever be on the of most important relationships of my life.

So here’s to my favorite pirate mama. Way the wind always blow you to where you need to go. We’re going to meet again and when we do, I’m going to hug you for a good long while. Thank you for showing me and my scallawags a love we didnt know existed. You helped teach me that a true family is the one you make for yourself. You were a beautiful radiant star that blessed us all. You helped make me a better person. I will always hold you in my heart and take you with me on my travels.

Rest easy, beautiful. You are so loved.

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How old do you have to be…

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I mean seriously, what the fuck is going on? I honestly thought by the time I reached my 30s I’d be an “adult” and I’d know what everything was and how everything worked. I had always gotten the impression as a child that anyone over the age of 29 was a certified pro in adulting.  For the pass few years Ive been waiting on that feeling to hit me. Like puberty for the soul. And it hasn’t! I thought by now I’d be some serious woman who knows the ins and outs of every situation. I’d be all newspaper and political reform, town meetings and stock indexes. I’d know how the world works and what mature decisions to make.

Spoiler alert: I don’t know shit. I almost have no clue what the fuck is going on. I know things are about to take a nasty turn here in America. I dont understand how we’ve gotten this far. Or how exactly when people forgot about being brothers with their fellow man. That , especially right now, is common. I’m just…still so unsure about everything. I keep looking around for an adult to help talk me through disarming this life bomb. But there aren’t any, and Im stuck with all these wires and only one that can be cut.

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I take care of my shit. I raise my babies and wife my husband. But most of the time, I’d rather be curled up somewhere cerebrum in superheroes and scary stories. Sometimes I can’t handle how mean people are. How obsessed with themselves and petty they seem. I have trouble understanding the speed at which this life machine works. A few months can feel like forever but then years pass in a blink. How are we suppose to survive if the cards just keep staking against us?

When will all this nonsense make sense?

Maybe the key question is: Is there any sense to make out of all this?

Previously on Legos and Coffee,

I attempted a blog challenge. I posted about it here. Obviously, it was a failure since I took a year long sabbatical and never came back. I think a lot had to do with the fact that I committed to doing it without fully falling in love with it. Looking back now, I am not fond of the prompts themselves. It feels….shallow? After doing this list, I might overhaul the entire idea and start again. But I’ll at least try to get through this one thing. It was my goal, so I’m going to do it.

 Let’s start back where I left off and give it another go.

So let’s say today is day 11 and the prompt is “List 15 of your favorite things”. Why they didn’t have it be “List 11 of your favorite things” seems like a miss to me.

  • Coffee. In all forms. From black with sweetener to superkalifraglistic from Starbucks. I don’t care what you think about my coffee order, so shhhh. Just put it in me.
  • Used Books. I really love reading a book that’s already been loved. I love the feeling of a well worn novel. Also it saves money and keeps stories alive.
  • Professional Wrestling. I’m a mark. I’ve watched since I was a little kid. My dad, who Im sure will be the subject of a few post in the future, was an indie wrestler when I was a child. We’d travel to sweaty gyms, set up a ring, and do shows. It’s still something that I love. I don’t care if it’s “fake”. It’s still real to me dammit!
  • Incense and wax melts. Nothing changes my mood faster than to make my area smell nice.
  • Late 90s-Early 00s Rock. It was my coming of age music. What can I say?
  • Podcasts! Dude, I love me some podcasts. In the last year or so, i discovered the concept of podcasting and fell in love. I religiously listen to Tanis, Rabbits, Welcome to Night Vale, What Happened When, and Something to Wrestle with Bruce Prichard. I really wish The Black Tapes would come back. I miss it so much.
  • Gravity Falls. Its a constant in our rotation of shows. Its like animated X-Files.
  • Instagram. Yep, Im one of those people. I try to post more than just selfies. I dont always accomplish a respectable stuff to selfie ratio though.
  • Sewing. Its become one of my favorite ways to create. Ive hit a lull recently. I made the mistake of linking my enjoyment of sewing to my ability to sell things Ive made. I need to fix that.
  • The Denver Broncos. I was never much of a football fan growing up. I knew little to nothing about it. My husband however, is a huge Broncos fan and has this huge wealth of football knowledge. So I decided instead of being one of those people that sit around and pout when their SO watches sports, I’d learn about it so I could watch with him. And I have. And the Broncos are my time. Which is slightly hilarious considering I live in the thick of the team they beat recently in the Super Bowl.
  • Milkshakes. They are glorious
  • Lists. I typically enjoy making list. They bring me some  sense of control. This one however, is kicking my ass.
  • The Blues Brothers. Always.  I love that damn movie so much.
  • My family. My husband is easily my best friend. I’m honored to have the kids I have. I’ve filled the gaps with people who love me.  I’m a lucky person.

Ya know what? I think I’m done with this list. Look, I have a lot of favorite things. Listing them here seems so redundant. I know the point is to “get to know” me better, but this isn’t fun. Like I said above, Im going to need to overhaul this whole thing. I want writing here to be a release, not another thing that stresses me. And for some reason, this list stresses.

So, there’s that. I’ll figure something out. Something enjoyable for me and for you, the reader.

You see, what had happened was…

I fucking suck.

Here’s the deal. I always have these ideas in my head of things I want to do. But there’s this thing inside of my head that prevents me from doing things I like to do. I start and notice how much enjoyment they bring me and I get totally on board with them and then, BOOM. The feelings start. Like old friends that forget you until they need something, they show up. Suddenly, the my inner monologue is being delivered by my mother’s voice and I realize that I’m not good at what I’m doing. I realize that I’m taking time away from my motherly and wifely duties by doing my things. So, I bury a seed in the shame I cultivate inside and stop doing my thing to watch it bloom. Who would have guessed that seed grows into a Venus fly trap and tries to eat me whole?

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It’s a constant struggle. Most times, I give in and accept that I am not good enough to warrant doing anything. Why bother when I’ll just fail? Do you know how many things I’ve missed out on because of this? So fucking many.

Guys, I’ve got more issues than something that has a lot of issues. I’m a mess. But still, I try. And right now, I’m plucking those teeth from my skin and getting ready to try again. I need to focus on the things that set my soul on fire.  I need to focus on me.

A blog where I talk about myself sounds like a a good idea.

So let’s do this, again.

 

 

Day 8&9 In Your Bag/Worst Habit

Well, it happened,loves. It only took 8 days for it to, but it did.

I missed posting. But it was because I had a friend over and we spent most of the evening eating cheesecake and watching stand up on Netflix. So, under cheesecake consuming rules, I’m in the clear. No wrongs can be committed while eating cheesecake. Hashtag that  as Truth, cause its fucking gold.

Anyway, here are the contents of my bag, which if I can boast for a moment, I made myself. IMG_9046

So we got a baby sweater, some diapers, my wallet, a compact of powder which is sadly no longer with us because the wearer of that pretty pink sweater threw it across a parking lot.There’s also my keys, a book I picked up at an Asian Market in a language I can’t read, and some trash I should really throw away. Also, the fabric I made my bag out of glows in the dark. So that’s pretty cool.

Ok, now that we are caught up, here’s today’s post. My worst habits. In no particular order they include

  • Over apologizing for slights real and imagined
  • Giving up on my interest and actions to make time for other people.
  • Asking if someone is okay. Over and over and over.
  • Picking at zits, scratches, any sort of flesh imperfection.
  • Scratching. Excessively. Hello stress rashes, let’s get raw!
  • Tailgating. Speeding. Pretty much driving in general. I am a horrible driver. Horrible.
  • Saying “Goddamnit”. The kids say it now because of me. I’m a great influence.
  • Caffeine consumption. Give me Monster or give me death. And by that I mean, it probably will give me death.
  • Listing all the horrible things that could,would,should, might happen over and over in my head.
  • Making fucking list.

There you go. A laundry list of my bad habits and yesterday post about my purse. It’s an odd combo, for sure. I hope not to miss anymore days. The photography challenge I’m doing on Facebook is almost over. I’m pretty sad about that. It’s been a lot of fun. Maybe I will do another one just for this blog? Who knows. I probably should just finish this shit first. That would be a good idea. Can we add taking on too much to the list of bad habits?

 

 

Day 7: Your Pet Hates

I’m really feeling like I didn’t read these daily prompts as well as I thought. This once surprised me. I know I’m doing them just to get into the habit of posting, but I thought they’d be a bit deeper. But, what the hell, let’s talk about pets.

We have two fat and sassy cats. Their names are Athens and Jiji.

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This is Athens. She’s the Queen of the house.

Athen’s is the oldest. We adopted her as a wee little kitten. She was our first family cat. My husband’s had cats since he was a little baby, but I never had. We got Athens and I fell in love. Some people say that their cats are their fur babies. That’s not true with her. She’s like a fur adult co-parent. She’s the second wife in the house, it seems. She loves and cuddles freely but its usually when she wants to. I love when she sleeps in the bed with me. She always curls up right behind my knees. Anyway, she hates water most of all. Her second biggest hate is when Jiji craps. She waits outside the little box to jump and swat Gigi in the face.

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This is Jiji. She’s an aggressive cuddler. 

Jiji is the sweetest, most obnoxiously lovey dovey cat ever. I’ve recently had to stop her sleeping with me because she likes to groom my hair and face while I sleep. I know she means well, but that shit hurts and is pretty frightening to wake up to. She loves to take total dominion of your lap and rub her face on your hands so you have to pet her. Her biggest hate is an empty food bowl. She was a stray at some point in her life and I don’t think she’s ever forgotten what being hungry feels like. She’s never forgotten what lonely feels like. Because of that, a lot of her obnoxious actions are overlooked.  Fun fact about Jiji; I named her after the cat from Kiki’s Delivery Service. When she’s being totally gross or doing something weird I call her GG Allin. If you’re familiar with GG Allin, you’ll understand why I think it’s hilarious.

I really love these two. And I’m pretty sure they love me. When I’m upset, feeling bad, or whatever, I can always expect a furry head to push into me looking to love on me. Our family is complete because of them. I’d definitely be a different person if they weren’t around.

Day 6: Your 5 Senses Right Now

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Sight: The unholy mess that is my computer table. I’m a messy person. It’s how my brain works best. But this mess is overtaking me. Kid shoes, uncut patterns, grocery circulars…just a whole bunch of crazy. Tomorrow will be Tidy It Up Friday.

Hearing: WWE Smackdown is on TV right now, so I’m listening to that. Also, the box fan we have in the room to cool is pretty damn loud. As the weather has gotten warmer, that sound has become a normal part of the background.

Smell: My hands smell like the chips I ate just a bit ago. It’s been a while since I’ve had chips, so I went a little bonkers. They were Ruffles! They had Ridges!

Taste: I’m drinking some water to wash away the saltiness from the chips. How creepy of a question would this be ? “Hey gurl, what you tasting?” Um, vomit?

Touch: I am painfully aware of how hard my computer chair is. It’s a wooden dinner table chair because my original chair died a horrible death and we’ve yet to replace it. Also, the keys on my keyboard. Its a gaming keyboard that my husband passed on to me. The keys have such a nice texture to them. They make typing really easy. As an added bonus, my right wrist is hurting like an ass. I’m not sure what I did to injury it, but it had been aggravating me for weeks. Even with a brace it’s uncomfortable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Day 3: Favorite Quote

This one is pretty hard. I really love quotes and have a few that have rented rooms inside my head. Some of them have no meaning in everyday life (“Zed’s dead,baby. Zed’s dead.”) and others feel like they were created just for me (“Believe me, nothing is trivial.”)

But this one, since I read it the first time, really struck a cord.

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Now, I’ve seen it attributed to both Mother Theresa and Konstantin Josef Jirecek. Regardless, it has so much meaning to me. Especially the last part. I never had a safety net. I never had a cheering section behind me. What Ive learned, Ive taught myself. And a lot of the time, I was wrong. But now, because of the shit Ive carried myself through, Im sure I can do anything.

Day 1: Introduction

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Ok, let’s do this!

I’ve never been good at introductions, so let’s just hit the basics.

I’m Angela. I’m in my early 30s and I’m allergic to penicillin. I’m a long time nerd and weirdo. One of my feet is slightly bigger than the other and I’m right handed. I’m the opposite of a perfectionist. I’m a “eh,thats good enough”ist. I like to craft. Sewing is what I’m focusing on right now. I really love to sew, even if my projects are hit or miss. I also really love photography. Like sewing, its still hit or miss for me, but Im getting better. I lost my desire to create anything for a while and am slowly regaining it. I’m doing a photography challenge on Facebook that’s made me fall in love with my camera again. It’s pretty awesome. While writing this, I’m drinking a PBR and watching The Twilight Zone. I’m sure that says something about me as a person.

I’ve been married for almost 11 years to my best friend who I will affectionately call Mr. L.  We got married pretty young and have done some pretty incredible things. The most incredible are our four children.

Az was our first son and oldest child. He was born in Washington State on a cold day. When he was born, I became a different, better person. He was super smart and super sweet. I use the word was because he passed away November 2011, a week before my birthday. It was totally unforseen and unexpected. Every single day, every hour, I still hurt and long for him. He was my first best friend. He was a gift to the world. He still is.

Jo our little Bean Boy. He is quickly approaching his 8th birthday. He’s hilarious and kind and just a little high strung. He has ADHD and is currently in second grade. School has been hard for him, but I totally think that things are starting to look up. He loves making things out of clay and video games, just like his daddy.

Des is our little quiet giant. He is three and likes to play pretend. He really likes to play pretend. His current favorite thing is to make a story up using his fingers as people. He has beautiful blue eyes. His current favorite things is the new car seat we upgraded him to. He practically begs to go “bye bye” so he can ride in it.

And the baby is Miss Mar. She is our surprise baby. We didn’t plan on her showing up, or being a her for the matter, but she did. And although she is sassy and loud, she is amazing. Sometimes I can’t believe she’s real. She loves kitties and likes to burp. She likes to help and is constantly underfoot. She’s our own little Arya Underfoot.

My orgin story is kind of shitty. I had an abusive, narcissistic mother and an apathetic father. I was the scapegoat of the family. I’ve been no contact with them for a long time. I’m still working through mess that was left by that life. I will probably hit on that whole mess later.

I don’t know what else to say! I feel like I’ve said so much without saying anything. Talking about myself has always felt weird. At least I’ve completed Day 1 of this challenge. Self high five for that!