What was meant for evil, God is using for my good

April 24th, 2017, 8:52 PM by Goddess

I mean, obviously I’m not talking about Donald Gump. 

But something else that has been a boulder in front of the cave is rolling away. And granted, a MOAB just got dropped on the cave and I got smoked out anyway. 

Whatever though. If the times they have to change, let them start a-changing. Really changing. 

When I say my gratitudes to myself each day, I say thanks for my momma, my job, my kitty and my car. 

Thanks for keeping us safe and healthy. For keeping those paychecks clearing. 

I also say a preemptive kudos to the universe for shutting my mouth at the right time. And for giving me just the right words at the exact moment I need them. 

Today I finally said thank-you for the opportunities and also the strife. The strife keeps keeps the pilot light on under my soul, the proverbial fire under my ass that keeps me from getting comfortable. 

I can finally breathe now and let one particular brand of anxiety go. This boulder can’t hurt me anymore. It didn’t make me stronger or better. Or maybe the real test is yet to come. Lord help me find the right words or none at all when the time comes. And it is. 

‘I am out of my depth at this altitude’

April 23rd, 2017, 8:50 AM by Goddess

“Go ahead and laugh,
even if it hurts,
go ahead and pull the pin.
what if we could risk
everything we have,
and just let our walls cave in?”

— Sleeping at Last, “Heart”

I don’t understand why, when someone decides to leave you, they don’t actually leave.

They hang around. They come around more than they ever did, especially toward the end. The end you saw coming from a thousand nautical miles away.

The end you anticipated with a mixture of dread and relief. A mixture whose percentages you’ll never actually reveal.

You just didn’t know how or when it was going to end.

You knew you’d be hurt and screwed seven ways to Sunday when it did finally come. (And you were sure proven right.)

Yet it still seemed a better, or at least a more-intriguing, option than having to pretend you didn’t notice that everything had changed anyway.

And maybe there’s some “better” to be found when the Everglades stop burning. But it isn’t over. Everything is on fire and they are waiting for a reaction out of you that you are never going to give.

Perhaps the more-appropriate lyric here comes from Phil Collins and Marylin Martin …

“You have no right
To ask me how I feel
You have no right
To speak to me so kind.”

Or not. I don’t think anyone wants to know how I feel right now. More like what do I know and when did I know it. And I’ve spent enough time playing Nancy Drew that I don’t have any more time to devote to anything other than catching up on gobs of lost time.

Just trying to “smile because it happened.” Maybe even laugh, even if it hurts.

‘What kind of coward was I to marry her, and not wait for you to show up?’

April 20th, 2017, 7:43 PM by Goddess

Fitz said that to Olivia on “Scandal.” On the campaign trail, days before he was elected president.

Back when I believed in legitimate presidents and love, I heard something similar.

What kind, indeed.

An ‘I’m sorry’ is all I want to hear right now

April 20th, 2017, 6:30 AM by Goddess

Not interested in much else now that Annie is being returned to the orphanage. Really over all this shit right now. 

This country needs more culture. And intelligence. Starting with this county.

April 16th, 2017, 8:11 AM by Goddess

I am sitting in a hotel lobby in a county that went largely for Trump. They have Fox News on the teevee because they cater to these types, I guess.

I’m seeing coverage of the Tax Marches and am very proud of my fellow resistors. Forrest Trump is a proven liar and cheat, yet the people around me are quietly saying how dumb the marches are.

I had to move away from the TV because my blood was boiling at the on-air idiots going from pooh-poohing the marchers who want transparency to applauding Forrest Trump’s decision to hide White House visitor logs. Jesus Christ. Trumpy is off being a fake Christian at “his” church — he isn’t even watching his favorite propaganda station right now!

In any event, this triggered my memory. I was in a store yesterday and we could hear loud salsa music. Folks started chattering that there was a “Spanish event” on the next block. I said oh, cool, like a food festival or a parade? The girl in front of me said she wasn’t sure — she just saw folks setting up a bandstand.

And the cashier — THE CASHIER, representing the company — says, “Oh probably a revival or something.”

I blinked. “Um, what?!”

She must have thought I was in agreement. “Who knows what they do. Other than block traffic.”

Well, it’s on a back street and not either of the main parkways in this town. First of all. Second, that’s pretty freakin’ insensitive.

I’d call it racist. But it was clear the large black dude behind me in line was her boo. Since she was talking to him more than to any of us who were handing her money.

Oh and it wasn’t a revival. I took an hour to walk through. There were souvenirs and foods and services for people from Cuba, El Salvador, Peru, Argentina and more.

And any culture that puts pina coladas in pineapples is all right by me.

Revival of taste buds, maybe.