Riding the confidence wave

Another Tuesday, another fabulously fantastic day to be alive. My world is not perfect, but it's damn good.

I enjoy waking up each and every day.  I still occasionally have moments of self doubt, but they are not nearly as prevalent as they once were. I remember the sheer rapture I experience in learning new things. I have been guided to some excellent sources to make this happen. I am enthralled with new information. I am listening to podcasts about history, lectures about various topics, and expanding my mind with new fiction - yes, there are books that I have not read. Thank you, Duffy. What a difference you have made in my world - in so many ways. Life is definitely good.

I am excited to report my talented, fabulously beautiful, and slightly twisted daughter will be here in 16 days. She is bringing her boyfriend, who I also enjoy immensely. Jess will be here for her friend Jamie's wedding, as she is in the wedding. It will be a busy weekend ( anyone looking to see Jess needs to remember this !), but I'm the momma, so I rate. I am planning on having her bring me to work on Friday, so that I may show her off. I can't brag on her enough. Just a little proud. Just saying.

So, that's where my life is right now. I feel cared about every day. I wouldn't trade it for anything. The sky's the limit!

For all of my friends and family - I love that you enjoy my Sunday adventures. I want you all to know that I enjoy sharing them with you. I also want you to know that I am very careful when I go. Thank you for being concerned.

Please enjoy one another. Live each day to its full capacities. When you think about your hopes and dreams, let yourself be happy. Smile - it looks gorgeous on you.

Until we meet again,
Angie

Painful then, lesson learned now

It's Sunday morning, and I had a desire to read over some of my writing. I hadn't necessarily forgotten this poem, as I remember the point that I wrote it quite well. The thing that I did not remember is the power of the emotions I let out when I created it. I poured every ounce of pain and hurt that I was feeling into this poem. I have shared this with a precious few people after I wrote it. Going back and rereading it, I decided it is something that I am ready to share publicly. I'm not this person anymore. My hopes in sharing it is that if someone else is struggling with where they are at in a relationship, that this will give you the strength and inspiration to walk away.

I thank each and every one of my friends for the outpouring of love and support you gave to me at a time when I needed it the most. I wish to extend special thanks to my mom - I love you. Also special thanks to Duffy Thomas, Jess Wiegert, Rachel Schmitt,and Robin Hinerichsen - each of you contributed greatly to helping me see who I really am. It's a debt I can never truly repay.

Casting eyes downward,

She avoids the gaze of others.

Questions she is not ready for,

She draws the strength inside her,

Making painful decisions.

A bag of her belongings on the floor,

She is on the run again,

Alone in her car.

A sanctuary where she escapes

A place that has no judgment.

She has become skilled at hiding,

Makeup camouflages her shame.

Outwardly, she appears unscathed

Hardly a flaw shows.

Inside, her soul is shattered.

No one knows or suspects

The control executed.

She becomes a child without opinion,

Without value.

She feels very small.

Looking in the mirror,

When did it happen?

She can be beautiful and vivacious,

Yet this part has been stolen,

Invisibility and worthlessness remain.

Her true nature screams inside,

Pushing, clawing, seething,

Reminding her that she is worth it.

She must break free,

End the cycle.

It has been too long

Since she felt pretty,

Since she was desired,

Since intimacy played a role.

She is merely subservient.

He makes her decisions,

He allows no compromise,

Expecting a slave from their union,

Friends cease to exist,

He exerts total control.

She knows this must end,

Living this way is insane,

But the fear is just below the surface.

It can explode at a moment’s notice,

And claim her in the fallout.

Run.

You have the power.

You have the strength.

You are more than this,

And you are worth it.

 I hope each of you are always the person you were meant to be.

Until next time,

Angie French

A Texas Girl in the Big City (aka Angie Marie gone wild)

I alluded to the fact in the last blog selection that an adventure was coming. Well, it most certainly was. I went from Chicago to Newark to Boston just via flight, then added other places after that, eventually winding up in New York City. Now, know this about me – I have a very limited realm of travelling experience. My furthest trips anywhere (other than where I was born, or where we went when I was small and my dad was in the army) are Las Vegas, Reno, and Orlando. Las Vegas and Reno were necessity – my daughter and my aunt lived in those places. Orlando was vacation, and I went once when I was young, and once when my daughter was young. This trip for me was pure adventure, through and through.

I do find airports fascinating, which is in complete contrast to many folks, I’m sure. Why you ask? It’s not the shops, the food, or – dear God – the restrooms. I find airports fascinating for the people you find there. I am a people watcher, born and bred. I see so many stories at an airport terminal. I see young love, loss, joyous reunions, painful separations, business travelers, people looking for something, people escaping something – stories to fill multiple books, possibly libraries. I can amuse myself at an airport – not an issue. I landed in Newark, and other than going from one gate to another in a cross country trek, it was just a chance for observation as usual. Many business travelers, many impatient folks waiting to board their planes – I got to see it all.

I arrived in Boston, and met my companion, and off we went seeking adventure. Now I will tell you that he enjoys adventure as much as I do – probably more. We both share a love of history and literature. I was taken to the Old North Bridge for exploration, which my history geek was digging on hard. Give me a piece of history, and I will show you a gal who can’t get enough of it. I am someone who sees a picture in a magazine, or hears of a battle on television, or sees a brief excerpt in a book she is reading, and I immediately have to go to Google or Wikipedia to learn more. My mind was spinning as we read the information about the history of the place. Ah, education!

From here, a suggestion was made to see if I wanted to go to Walden Pond. Bliss! Rapture! The writer in me was doing her happy dance, as I agreed wholeheartedly to go. Such an inspiring place. I could have stared out over the water for hours. Not only was the place inspirational - the company was fabulous, and I felt content and special.

My weekend adventure was filled with many moments like the above. I will share some of my experience, but also want to keep part of them to myself. Call me selfish. My amiable companion and I shared something pretty amazing, and as much as I’d like to shout all of it from the rooftops, I prefer to keep a piece between just the two of us. Hate to disappoint, but I think you all should understand that.

The sight of New York City filled me with extreme wonderment. I think my jaw dropped upon first sight, and my mouth remained open until we left. To describe it, I need many words. Colossal. Monumental. Bewitching. For my highbrow writer friends – pulchritudinous. Simply put, this is the most impressive place I have ever been. It’s different from Las Vegas, which is also a mecca for international people watching, but in such an incomparable way. Street carts with food, a place to buy knock offs on many a corner – what an incredible adventure. I thank my companion for a mind expanding experience.

My companion experienced a bucket list moment with a dinner for the two of us at Gordon Ramsay at the London. I now know that my table etiquette needs a tad bit of polish. I am not some Ellie Mae sitting at the table, mind you. However, this is BY FAR the fanciest place I have ever eaten at. There were times that I was quite self-conscious, but the fact that I thought people were staring at me was exaggerated in my mind. Superb food, sublime atmosphere, unbelievably unique time – what a rush! I can’t believe that I got to be part of this unbelievable exploit, and I feel truly special.

Everything was perfect. I am hard pressed to come up with a more exceptional vacation. I became part of sophistication, grace, and complexity once again. My education can come out and play, after being dormant for so long, chained away in the deepest darkest dungeon.

I could rhapsodize on my exemplary time for hours, but I won’t. You will just have to connect the dots, and put those puzzle pieces together on your own. I will talk to you all again soon.

Until we meet again,

Angie French

What's that? A story? Who'd have thought?

Good afternoon to all of my friends.

I told you before that I was working on a short story. I have finished it, and am ready to give you the world premier of it. I wanted something a little different this week, as in the next week, I will be off on adventure. I'm sure I will have a bit of adventure to share with you in my next post. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this:

The Crow

The field lay before her, miles of cornstalks waiving in the breeze. They almost taunted, teasing with the yellow tips of tassels that glimmer and shine in the rays of sunlight. The road before her was a simple, worn path with nothing remarkable about it. She walked, as she had been doing for miles and miles, completely alone. How she had gotten here, and where she was headed – these are things she really wished she knew. Something in her brain was nagging, whispering messages that were almost gibberish. The temperature was seasonable – that much she was certain of. It felt like late summer or early fall, as there was a bit of a chill in the air, but not cold enough for a jacket. Questions loomed as to where she even was, but she could not shake the fog in her addled brain.

As she continued her perplexing journey, the sun overhead gave the indication that it was nearly noon. She instinctively knew that the journey had begun near dawn. She had no idea why, but she felt if she kept moving, eventually this would all make sense somehow. As she struggled for clarity, overhead she saw a large shadow approaching. Her body went into fight or flight mode, as she crouched down, trying to make herself seem minuscule. The ominous shadow continued to get closer, and the outline became wings. It appeared to be a large crow– far larger than any she had ever seen. It gradually began its descent, and settled gently down a mere 15 feet from where she was trying to avoid detection. It cocked its head as it seemed to study her, looking at the fear in her eyes. She wanted to run, but something kept her in that spot. The crow inched closer to her as it seemed to sink into her very soul looking into her eyes. She was paralyzed. The crow continued to fixate on her eyes, and she knew that she had to move. Summoning all of her inner strength, she slowly rose – maintaining a visual connection with crow while she backed away. The crow cocked its head as she backed away, almost as if it were trying to process why she would leave.

She had inched away quietly and at a snail’s pace, but was finally far away from the inquisitive eyes of the crow. She felt an urge to run, but yet each time she glanced behind her, the crow was nowhere to be seen. She began to question: Was the crow real, or just a figment in my damaged brain? All she knew for sure was what she could feel internally – that she must keep moving. The fields continued on for what seemed like an eternity. She actually could not see an end to the corn, just miles and miles of tassels. Then it happened. Her isolated silence was interrupted when a man stepped out of the cornfield.

He looked to be just an ordinary man – about 5 foot 10, brown hair, average build. Yet something about his eyes is what struck her. His eyes were a deep swirling blue, and as you looked into them, you felt completely tranquil. It was if the mere act of glancing at this man took away all of your cares and worries. How odd. He walked towards her, and she did not fear him, as she had feared the crow. He was quite handsome in a unique way. The silence shattered as he spoke.

“Kara, do you know where you are?” the blue eyed man asked calmly. She let that roll around in her mind before she thought of a response. She took the name first – Kara – and tried to imagine that this was indeed her name. She was still so foggy on all of it. She attempted to speak, but it was as if the words would not come, no matter how much she forced them to. The man looked at her, and said again, “Kara, I am asking if you know where you are. Are you trying to answer?” She was looking deep into his eyes, trying to convey her struggle to speak. He then took her hand, and said, “It’s ok. I know this is all very confusing for you. Please take your time. I am not going anywhere. I am here to help you.” Slowly, they began to walk together down the unending path. She glanced at him from time to time, but his focus seemed to be strictly to walk forward, holding her hand. If she wobbled at all, his arm steadied her, and guided her along the way.

When he broke the silence, she knew something bigger was in play. The skies above, which had been an overcast dull unremarkable grey was now beginning to become clear with big white cotton candy clouds. She heard a screech behind them, and turned. There was the crow, still staring her down – and now following them both. The man paid the crow no mind – it was almost as if he did not see the large bird. She tried to ignore the crow, but this time, it was no longer silent and merely staring. It began to screech, and inch ever closer to her. She clutched the man’s arm tightly, and he spoke, “Kara? What’s wrong? Can you hear me?” The crow became more menacing by the moment, and she found herself once again overcome with fear. The skies clouded over again, and there was a huge crack of lightening. She was scared of storms, but it also appeared that the more intense the lightning got, the crow did not like it either. She could hear the thunder, but it sounded like a bunch of garbled conversation. The louder the thunder, the more agitated the large crow became. The third lightning strike forced the crow to fly. She breathed a huge sigh of relief.

During the whole interlude with the crow, the man had clutched her arm tightly – he apparently did not see the crow, but sensed her agitation and distress. She was immensely grateful for this. The tightening in her chest was starting to subside a bit. The breathing was less labored, and she looked into the man’s eyes once more. The shining blue pools calmed her, and she felt at ease again. She looked off to the right, and out of the corn, another person arrived. This was a small child – a little boy. The boy looked familiar, but she could not place him. His face was so cherubic and tranquil that it instantly put her at ease – in the same way that the man’s eyes did. The young boy looked at her, and raised his finger to his lips in a shushing manner.

She understood. It was a secret that the little boy was here. She sat down, the man looking at her, not understanding why she needed to sit. “Kara? I need you to focus on me. Come on Kara. You can stay with me.”

The small boy opened his mouth and revealed the secret. “Mama?” a shy little voice rang out. He walked to her and held his little hand up to hers. “Mama, will you stay with me? I’ve missed you so much,” the little boy said to her. Mama? Why did that feel right? Where did the little boy want her to go? The man seemed to sense her confusion, and gently stroked her left arm. He reached out and touched her face. “Kara, I love you. I am right here. I won’t leave you,” the man said to her. Her mind was telling her that the man was someone important too. The child and the man – what was happening? Yet the idea of being the child’s mom seemed right. She felt a connection to the child. She stooped down, and looked into the small boy’s eyes. The eyes she looked into were the same as the eyes of the man.

Her arms reached out, and she took the small boy into her arms, and instinctively said, “Mama loves you very much…Jamie. I am not going to leave you.” She felt her body relax, and it was instantly easier to carry Jamie, the little boy. She turned and squeezed the man’s arm. Her mind called him Kyle, and she knew that she loved him too. He started to call her name “Kara! Kara! Please don’t leave me. I will be all alone. I can’t lose you both!” His voice was intense at first, but then slowly began to fade. She carried Jamie across the road, and was able to see a light amidst the corn. It felt as though they were both floating. The light was their destination, and she carried Jamie the entire way until the light warmed them both, and welcomed them into a place of comfort.

Kyle was at Kara’s bedside and knew that it was over. The accident, which had first taken the life of their son, Jamie – now was going to take Kara’s light as well. He wept bitterly, but he looked up at the window. There was the largest crow he had ever seen, and it was staring at him. In its beak was Kara’s locket, and in the locket was a picture of Jamie. The crow carefully laid the locket on the window sill, and flew away.

Until we meet again, my friends.

Angie French (I never get tired of typing that!)

              

Still part of the learning curve

So, today I am a week removed from being married. How do I feel?

I feel great, of course. In retrospect, I had detached myself long before I made the decision to leave. There was nothing, and I was treated like I was nothing. Not an esteem booster, which led to the struggle.

What struggle, you ask? The one that is always there in everyone - am I good enough, pretty enough, strong enough...basically, am I worth it? My answer is a resounding yes. I am passionate. I may take flights of fancy from time to time. I can be crazy, stubborn, and unreasonable. I am the girl you would like to kiss or choke. I have beautiful curves. I have a sense of unique style. My humor is one of my more fabulous qualities. I am enigmatic. I have a sharp mind. I love unconditionally. I have multitudes of intellectual curiosity.
Now I am able to add that I am independent. Take a good look, world! Hear me roar.

That being said, it's strange to me how complicated some things have to be. My experience with getting cable/internet is a prime example. I called the cable company, did everything over the phone (so I thought), and had everything shipped to me for a self install. I am a direction follower, I can do this! Fast forward a few days and the box has arrived. Great! I pull out the instructions, and I am off running. Hooking up the television...super simple. Took less than 30 minutes. The internet installaton however...what the hell? On paper, looks simple - plug in, turn on, go online, register - so why can't I make this work? I even went to my go to...aka my daughter. She finally even said, " Well Mom, I think you are going to have to call them." So it looks like I will be spending some quality time with the techies at Comcast this week.

Back to the part where I did everything over the phone. I was told once the equipment came, I would have a prepaid label to send back the converter boxes from the house. This meant I had to have little to no contact with the ex. Score! A few days later, I get a call from the ex (oh joy!). He is calling to inform me that I have to go to the Comcast office and sign off the account. By the way, I will have to go on Saturday morning  Am I lucky or what?

Simple is overrated anyway. The more you have to work for something, the more rewarding it is to you in the end. Every time I get overwhelmed, I remind myself of this. I am learning every day. I willingly take on new experiences, whereas before I was reluctant to do so. I am learning to make adventure out of my life. I am past the point where I am worried about what some people may think. Case in point...lately have been singing and even car dancing, and I am well aware people are looking at me. Take me as I am. A little crazy makes for a lot of fun!

More next time.

Until we meet again, my friends.

Angie French