More Lessons? Will the Learning Ever Stop?

What a week.

I am 3 weeks into my new job. I like it, but will admit that it is stressful. I want to shut off at the end of the day. Just off. No words. No deep thoughts. Just off. Now, anyone who knows me even a little bit knows my mind is on 24-7. I try to go to bed early to try to alleviate said stress and I make more. It goes a little bit like this:

*opens eye* 11 pm - Body:I'm tired - go back to sleep,  Stress: Hey girl - what's up? Mind: Are you two kidding me right now?*after 30 minutes, dozes off*

*opens eye* 1 am -  Body: Knock it off! Stress: Let's discuss your love life and why it sucks, Mind: If I fall asleep right now, I will still get a few hours in. *tosses and turns, falls asleep 45 minutes later*

*opens both eyes* 3 am - Body: I hurt everywhere, are we seriously going to do this? Stress: Let's think about what's wrong with you, and why you can't get along with certain people. Mind: Fuuuuck! Now I have to pee. *Gets up, uses the bathroom. Checks phone. Thinks about work for tomorrow. Goes on for about 30 minutes. Falls back into a deep sleep*

4:15 AM - Guess what? Let's get up! *Body, Stress, and Mind all give the alarm clock the middle finger*

Yeah, it's a nightly dance I perform called life. Good stuff.
On to the lessons.

I have discovered a few things:
1) If you watch Arrow and Flash before bed, you have some pretty amazing Superhero type dreams. Might be why I keep waking up in a pile of covers like I'm thrashing around in bed. Trust me, there is  no other reason involved.

2)Alcohol is a pleasant thing. I'm not saying I need it every night - exactly. A few glasses of wine relaxes me. Several glasses makes me happy. Shots make me stupid. Wine is good, vodka is better, rum is ok, but tends to give me a headache. Tequila- well, that's the liquor that makes bad Angie come out. This is why margaritas tend to be no more than two. Whiskey- various unpredictable reactions. Drunk Angie = honest Angie. Once I've had a few, I no longer have a filter.

3)Singing in the car makes me happy. Kareoke after a few drinks also makes me happy. I suck far less than I thought. No one booed and threw things at me. Granted, it was Jimmie, Linda, and I - but if you really suck, you can gage it from your friends' reactions.

4)I am way proud of myself for taking my Minnesota trip. I am ok being alone, but I had spent the past couple birthdays with a companion. I like hanging with people, don't get me wrong - but this was a me trip. Time to recharge. To remember I am kind of a cool chick. I'm not a troll. People like me for  being myself, being real.

5)I like to send people things to make them smile. Or laugh. It makes me happy. I don't do this for everyone, mind you. I have some folks that are way more than just friends to me. You all mean the world to me, and I hope it shows.

6)Every day that I think my daughter is done surprising me, she goes one step higher. This girl - she doesn't settle for the ordinary. She fought hard to get to where she is, and now? New job, higher pay. Go get 'em, Jess! That's my girl. I am so freaking proud of you and humbled to be your mom and your friend.

7)Coffee is my soulmate. The amount of caffeine I can handle astonishes even me.

8)I won't be supermodel material tomorrow. I know- shocker! If I want to lose weight, I will. I just want to be healthy, happy, and cared about. If I have a few extra pounds, it isn't the end of the world. All women, no matter what their size, are beautiful. I think the body is amazing and I like art of the body- male, female - doesn't matter. Women with curves are sexy. Guys with a belly are sexy. To me, it's the eyes, your smile, your sense of humor - the whole package. Never drawn to just one type.

9)Dealing with your ex husband is not enjoyable. I'd rather not. I also know why with 100% certainty why we are no longer married. I personally believe that marriage isn't a necessary component.
I've had two. I don't see the point of three. If you want to be with someone, it is your choice. A relationship is only as good as the communication in it. Are you friends? Do you like any of the same things? Do you enjoy sex? If something good happens to you, is this the person you want to share it with? Do they make you smile? If you can't say yes, then maybe that's not what you need. I couldn't be with someone if I can't share things with them. It is possible to connect with someone and never have a marriage.

10)I still love to write. I always will.

So yes, once again the self proclaimed Geek Girl learns more about life and such. And shares with you...you poor, poor suckers. Only kidding.

Much love until we meet again-

Angie

Huxley Never Had This Vision

Whole new world.

This promotion stuff is good. It's interesting. I have more freedom, I don't have to talk to the mean people about their created drama (granted, some escalation calls truly serve a purpose. Most do not). I can bask in the glow of the quiet - which I love. I'm a little scared and nervous, but I think that's true with anything different. I just feel all these emotions inside as of late. I mostly hold it inside. Am I thinking of my own mortality? I don't know.  I hate it - this feeling of thinking I don't matter. I know I do when I take a minute and think rationally, but sometimes you go to that dark place down the rabbit hole. The place where you're completely alone. It feels like no one is gonna pull you out of that hole. They have their own lives.

Now that's a bit ridiculous, I do admit. I've touched lives. I know this. Depression comes and goes, and sometimes you just need to talk. I'm a person who trusts few with the deep stuff. If I'm telling you stuff that's feelings related, you're in my inner circle. I've been burned more than once. I've been hurt physically and emotionally. You have coping mechanisms that come into play. Don't get too close - because the minute you trust, the football is getting yanked. Or at least, I feel that from time to time.

I am telling you all this for a purpose. It is a) not to feel sorry for me.
I am sad right now - yes. But will it pass? Yes it will.
And b) everyone gets sad. It's normal. It's when you can't talk about it, or sweep it under the rug that there's a problem. I don't want to die. I matter in this world. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

It's gonna be ok. I'm gonna be ok. So many folks feel like they aren't. No matter how bad you have it - someone else has it worse. Guaranteed. If that job falls through, if your crush doesn't like you back, if someone talks shit behind your back - so what? I've seen friends beaten to the point of serious brain injury, I've lost a family member to an industrial accident suddenly, and I've seen kids and animals that are starving or being abused. You're not alone. You're never alone. There is always someone who cares. Someone who wil reach down that hole with all of their strength until they pull you out.

You are loved. You are a force in this world. You will figure out your purpose. If you are meant to be with someone you will. If you aren't, that's ok too. Life is a precious, precious gift. Don't waste it.

Love each other always.

An Upside Down Tale in a Right Side Up World

Well, dear friends, this is my short story. I enjoyed writing this, so I hope you enjoy reading it equally as well. I truly believe that I was meant to write. Please feel free to share your opinions with me - good or bad. You can private message if you feel like you can't comment for the majority to see. As always, thanks for your support in all that I do.




The sky turned green, less like a shamrock but more the color of someones skin right before they manage to lose their lunch. I watched his eyes scan his surroundings, giving the facade of cool. He was like Sinatra at the Sands with the Rat Pack. As always, the epitome of calm. He fascinated me.

I was one to panic. My palms sweat, my body quivers, I tend to stammer - no one 

could ever mistake me for suave. Yet, a storm chaser was all I had ever wanted to do. Something about the pinnacle of anxiety gave me that rush, almost sexual in nature. As my fears rise, it is like I am reaching that orgasmic frenzy that only sex can give me. It's shockingly close.

I began to feel the air change as it stilled. My girl was coming. Tornadoes to me were always girls. They were temperamental, unpredictable, moody - and could potentially be life sucking bitches. I had followed her from Topeka. She started out small, teasing me. She gradually enveloped the unstable air, and grew exponentially. Starting out as a F1, my girl was now an upper F3 on her way to be a sure F4. 

My storm chasing partner was a lifer. He can't imagine doing anything but this for the rest of his life. I liked the rush, but someday I would settle down - leave the life of "luxury" - aka sleeping in a camper, eating meals out of cans or crappy diners. 

Until then, I slept as it allowed during twister season. Winters usually found me studying weather anomalies for the next season. I was fortunate as my father left me money when he passed. It wasn't a fortune by any sense of the word, but I survived without a second job.

"Tessa!" My cohort snapped me out of my daydream. "We need to go. We need to go...NOW." As I came back to reality, I saw her. My girl, now a healthy robust F4, was taking a turn. This turn was not common, as generally they never double back. Not today. I could see her sister, off to the left, headed on a collision course for my girl. Not good. Dual vortexes usually spelled dangerous trouble. Worse yet, now they were headed right for us. James, usually the cool headed one, was now in panic mode.

I went into automatic pilot as I had done before. Jumped in the driver's seat, threw the gearshift in reverse, and dropped the pedal to the floor. I was anxious, but felt so alive. Had James offered sex at that moment, we would have been sweaty in that camper until I screamed out his name. Jesus. I was so turned on.

"Are we gonna make it?" James screamed in my ear. I looked at the twins whirling and twirling, growing in size and velocity. My rational side said no, we could not beat the speed of these ladies. However, I said, "I didn't come this far to back down. Hang on!" I spun the wheel, and did a 180 to my right. It was going to be awfully close. It wasn't just the speed. It was if they knew we were interlopers on their turf.

The sound a twister makes as it bears down on you is something you never, ever forget. So often people describe it as the sound of a freight train. I get that, but I liken it more to the sound you hear with open car windows driving at 100 miles per hour - trust me, I know. Storm chasing was the career I stumbled on after race car driver and ambulance driver. I was the go to gal in this sort of situation, because I could handle any vehicle well in any situation. Well, I used to be able to say that. Until the twins got what they wanted. 

The back end of the camper caught the edge of the smaller vortex and lifted us into the air. James, who never managed to wear his seat belt, was sucked out the passenger window. It was like a horror movie moment. I heard him scream briefly, then just the sound of the tornado. I just held the wheel and closed my eyes. Daddy, your baby is coming. Round and round I went, then boom! 

I cautiously opened my eyes. I expected to see ruins everywhere, nothing left standing. I was not prepared for this. 

Beings of a shade of blue surrounded the vehicle. They had human features - kind of. All were lovely, but asexual. I was unable to tell if there was a distinction between male and female. Hair was an androgynous style, faces with full lips and eyelashes for days was all I saw. A tall one came to my door. It spoke.

"Be not afraid. We mean you no harm. We are just curious, as you look so different from us." I stared into the greenish gold eyes, and felt oddly at peace. I opened my door, and stepped out of the camper. My new friend put its arms around me, in a warm embrace. "You are beautiful. We wish you joy," my benefactor whispered in my ear. I felt what may have been its arousal on my leg. Interesting.

I was taken to a place of wonder. It seemed as if everything here was colorful, and full of passion. In a room off to the side, bodies enjoyed the pleasures of one another. I'd call it an orgy back home, but here it seemed a religious experience. Hands touching, lips kissing,organs intermingled...my desires seemed heightened. I found myself longing to be one of the participants. I became wet with desire. Oddly, my benefactor sensed it. 

The fingers stroked the small of my back, and it whispered in my ear, "I can satisfy your desire." Its lips kissed my neck, as the  hands fondled my breasts. I should be protesting, but somehow, I was more erotically charged than normal. I allowed myself to be touched. A second set of lips kissed the insides of my thighs. I closed my eyes, and felt wave upon wave of orgasm take my body. I might not know what these things were, but my body responded to them sexually.

After a few hours, I came out of the sexual fog I was in, and got up from being intertwined with my benefactor. I put my clothes on, and went wandering in this new world. Trees, skies, ground...it was all different. The sky was a greenish blue, the ground burgundy, trees purple...where was I?

I stood in the street, and heard it. "Tessa. Come inside." I went to the doorway of the large green building, opened the door, and went inside. A tall blue person looked at me and said, "The mayor is waiting for you." I peered down what was an enormous hallway and ventured forth. Floor to ceiling mirrors surrounded me, a green light cast a glow all around. Apparently I was not in Kansas anymore.

An oddly dressed little person stood before me at the end of the hallway. "Tessa, I assume?" I nodded my head, stunned by all that I had seen and was seeing. "Come now, don't dawdle. The mayor very seldom grants an audience." I followed quickly behind tiny legs, afraid I'd trip over my own feet and smash this poor soul. 

The room I found myself in was massive. If I yelled, I was sure to hear my voice echo back. In the center of the room was a large throne, glittering with emeralds and diamonds. In the seat, a black and white cat sat, staring at me. The cat looked as if it knew something and wanted to share it with me. The little person left me standing before the cat and exited the room. I wondered if this were the mayor's pet. Looking into its eyes, I was startled to hear the cat say, "You know it isn't polite to stare." My jaw dropped. 

"I..I am sorry. It's just...well, in my world, cats don't talk," I stammered. The cat's eyes got large, and appeared to have a smirk on its face. "Maybe you just aren't listening. Ever think of that? We all speak the same language, just harder to hear in some places," the cat said, a hint on disdain in its voice. 

"As you should have guessed by now, I am the mayor. I am Mr Buttons." I suppressed a giggle. Mr Buttons fixed me with a withering stare. "You seem awfully amused for one whose fate lies in my paws." He pulled a pipe from the side table. Looking at me, he lit up and took a puff.  "Catnip? I smoke only the purest blend." Once again, I choked back a laugh. Mr Buttons narrowed his eyes to slits. Clearly I had angered him.

  

"You pathetic woman! I command respect. I think some time in isolation will change your attitude," Mr Buttons spat. Suddenly I was surrounded in large blue beings, but these were definitely of the male persuasion, unless every being here has giant muscles and a bulge in their pants. I was unceremoniously picked up, and taken to the isolation room.

The room was dark and dank, no windows at all. It was rather small, with a single bed in the corner, and bathroom facilities midroom. Apparently privacy didn't apply in this prison, which I always thought I was too cute for. Great job, Tessa. Your mouth always gets you into trouble. I flopped down on the bed and stared at a nondescript ceiling. What was I going to do? Apparently Mr Buttons was angry from being laughed at from what he viewed as a far lesser being. But really...Mr Buttons? Smoking catnip like it is hash? My mind is in sensory overload. 

In the corner across from me, I saw a shimmer of light. But there wasn't anything there, and there was little light in this room to begin with. What was that? About ten seconds later, I saw it again. When the flash of light happened, the air around it glowed and had a translucent quality to it. 

The air then popped with little shiny sparks being emitted from nowhere. I saw a hand reach through, then a leg, and a small purple body popped out of the air. 

"Discombobulated way to travel. Gadzooks!" I stared at this tiny purple being. It had giant green eyes, 4 fingers on each hand, a large round belly, and it wore a topcoat. It carried an umbrella in its hand. "Tessa, I am Xanical. I am a traveler between dimensions. I saw you get sucked into this dimension and I followed you here. I know you humans have no concept of this. I figured you might need help."

Looking down into the green eyes, I felt kindred to this creature. I did not feel the sexual attraction as I had to the blue beings. I felt as if I knew Xanical. The guards in the corridor stirred. "Xanical! You have to go. They can't find you here,"

I hissed in a stage whisper. "Nonsense! The plane you see me in is singular to you. No one else. They cannot see me. The only one that can sense me, other than you, is Mr Buttons. The only reason he can do that is that he exists on nine planes at once. You know how you have always heard that cats have nine lives? It's kind of true - but they are concurrent. They are not sequential, " Xanical explained. Incredible. 

"How do I get home? Is Mr Buttons the only one who can send me home?" Xanical scratched his head. "I am not sure. The manner in which I travel between dimensions is something I have never seen a human do. The way you ended up here was a rip in the dimensional wall. The force of the tornadoes together did this. You know that tornadoes of that magnitude are rare, the combination of the two together is like winning the lottery. I am trying to fathom a way to get you home. Hopefully without having to curry Mr Buttons' favor." His huge green eyes looked solemn. I knew that Xanical was concerned. That worried me a bit.

One of the big blue bumbling guards appeared at the door, a tray of sustenance in his hands. "Insignificant life form! Mayor Buttons has taken pity on you. Here is something to keep you from starving." I was given a bowl of oatmeal looking food that seemed to possess a glue like quality. A glass of green juice was also on the tray. I took the tray and sat back on the bed. The guard lumbered away, and Xanical spoke. "What in the universe is that swill? Disgusting!" I looked at him and said, "I know, but as you said, you don't know if I can travel in your manner. The sister tornadoes of F5 levels is a never event. Keeping Mr Buttons happy might be my only shot at going home." Taking a spoonful of the oatmeal mush, I plugged my nose and swallowed. The words chalky and bitter would have been kind as to what this was. Nasty. I took a sip of the green juice. Thick. Marshy. Vomit. These are all the good things I can say about it. 

"Tessa, don't give up hope. I am going to ask a few other beings on this. Give me 24 hours. I promise I will be back." Xanical slowly faded into the air with more shimmering light. Once again, I found myself alone in the dank cell. Home, such that it was, was looking pretty amazing right now. If I ever made it back, my life was going to change. Period. No more storm chasing. No more coasting through life. I was in a sentimental mood as Mr. Buttons came to the cell door.

"Well, pathetic human. Have you changed your tune? I am feeling a bit forgiving at the moment. I suspect it was the catnip." I looked at Mr Buttons, and figured I had best try to get along. " Oh yes, Mayor Buttons, sir. I am truly sorry for mocking you in the manner I did. I beg your forgiveness, " I replied, looking remorseful. 

His eyes narrowed. "Even though I suspect this a weak attempt to placate me, I have a proposition for you. A favor, if you will, " Mr. Buttons rubbed against my legs. At home, this would be a cat showing affection. Here, I wasn't quite sure what it meant. I shivered uncomfortably.

"I need someone to find Socks," Mr Buttons looked at me with a knowing look. My mind spun. Socks? Socks? Like the kind you wear? "Whhhaaat exactly is socks?" I stammered. "Silly human. Socks is a who, not a what. Socks is my daughter. She is very independent and headstrong. Her mother died shortly after she was born. She was pampered in every way imaginable. Last year, she ran away. I have had the kingdom searched high and low for her, to no avail," he said, a bit of sadness in his voice. "We have a new lead though."

My head began to spin. How could I find anyone, a being completely out of my own dimension? Mr. Buttons was clearly insane. 

"Relax, human. I'm not sending you on an uncharted course. I believe Socks to be with humans, such as yourself, in the next locality over. You may be able to reason with her. Being a mere...pet. How is that a way to live? She is my legacy. Once I pass on all planes, she will take her rightful place as queen. That is, if you can convince her to come home. Or shall I say... ONCE you convince her to return home." I shuddered at the last statement. It seems my release is contingent on my bringing Socks home. Great. 

I was taken from the grey dankness of prison, and brought to a room filled with more clothes than I had ever seen in my life. Strange for a land with blue people and cats as rulers, but who was I to judge? There may have been human inhabitants prior to the current situation, or - and I hesitated to consider the alternative - maybe these are clothes from prisoners? If that was the case - where did they go? Not something I wished to ponder long. A tall blue being approached me, voice decidedly feminine.

"Miss Tessa? Mr Buttons insisted that we do something about your clothing. He referred to it as homeless chic...he can be so cruel sometimes. Please call me Bix. My full name is much more than I would ever wish for anyone to learn," my blue companion smiled. Her eyes were unusual. The color was best described as pink sparkles - not like the eyes of an albino being in any way. Her blue hands expertly manipulated a tape measure, measuring my waist, my hips, and my breasts. I was not thin, but not overly large. I liked to think of myself as curvy, which had always been the consensus from my boyfriends. They (not that there were many) always liked that little extra to hold onto. Plus, I ate like a guy, which seemed to be a plus. 

"I think this dress will fit just fine," Bix replied after surveying the selection with an expert eye. I took it from her hands and looked at it carefully. The top was fitted, with a flowing skirt. I slipped it on, and it was as if it were made for me. Blacks, greys, and whites gave it a geometric pattern which complimented my figure perfectly. "It's amazing, Bix. I don't think I have ever looked so nice before." She looked at me and smiled. "You look like her, you know." My mind raced. Her? 

"I sense your questions, Tessa. Let me explain. Mr Buttons was himself once a pet, as was his mother, as was his grandmother, and so on. My race brought Mr Buttons here. We've watched Earth for an immense amount of time. We have sought a fair and just ruler to lead us. Mr Buttons' ancestor was the pet of your grandmother Amelia. She was kind and beautiful. She treated everyone with importance and respect. Amelia was our choice to come be our leader. We were set to open a dimensional portal when we watched her love for your father. The love was pure and unconditional. Your father was a sickly baby and suffered with a great deal of colic. Amelia rocked him for hours upon hours, rubbing his chest with peppermint oil, sitting near a kettle on the stove to try to soothe her son. She never once complained. Never once. Mr Buttons's ancestor, Bootsie, loved that wee mite as well. Bootsie would curl up next to baby and keep him safe and warm. The thought of taking Amelia from your father was too much to bear. I myself was the deciding vote against," Bix revealed. I looked at her with shock. How? How could that be? 

"Imagine my surprise to see your face today, Tessa. I think maybe it's a little bit fated that you be the one sucked up into the vortex. Amelia shines through you like a diamond. You are definitely her grandchild." I smiled. Grandma Amelia was my guiding light. My mother passed away when I was small, and she cared for me when my father's grief enveloped him. She was my confidante, my friend, and a magician all wrapped into one. I instantly knew if anyone could be connected to this world, it would be her. I also knew that she would not have rested until Socks was safe at home. 

"Tessa, I don't have many powers left, as old as I am, but I want you to see this. I thought your grandmother was the most incredible person I had ever seen. You deserve a glimpse of who she was," Bix murmured. She touched my temple ever so gingerly. "Close your eyes, Tessa." I closed them, and it was if a television was playing in my head. There was my grandmother, holding my father and singing to him. She appeared to be so peaceful. I would swear if I didn't know better that my grandmother was an angel. It would not have surprised me to see wings wrapped around the two of them. This was young Amelia. I began to openly weep. 

"Oh child, don't cry. I didn't show you to make you sad. Just to show you her incredible nature. Also, to remind you that her many gifts live on. In you." Once again, I smiled. "Bix, thank you. My heart is indeed happy." She hugged me, and left the room. I put on a pair of shoes, embracing both comfort and style and proceeded on my way.

The road was well paved, brick of an indeterminate shade of perhaps yellow. It appeared to have lost some luster over the years. I had been told my destination wasn't far, and the path should get me there with little effort. Up a hill, around a cornfield where a scarecrow was perched above the tassel tops of the corn stalks. He looked familiar, but my mind wouldn't connect him to why. I stared at the stuffed figure for a moment and I swear he winked at me. I blinked my eyes, and shrugged off what I was sure was my imagination. 

As I continued to walk, a cottage popped up on the left. Outside, I saw a metal figure that appeared to be chopping wood. Beings here were certainly creative. Hanging around its neck was a heart shaped clock which was still ticking. How nice to be able to know the time. I peered into the clock face and saw that the measure of time here wasn't quite what I expected. The clock, instead of numbers, had close, closer, hot, hotter, on fire, cold, freezing , and off the beaten path written on it. How peculiar. The hand was currently pointed to closer. The metal figure had incredibly lifelike eyes and once again, I got that feeling of familiarity. This land was certainly odd.

Ahead lay a stretch of woods. I was almost hesitant to enter, as it seemed to grow darker and darker inside. As I started towards it, the air shimmered and popped loudly. "Tessa! There you are! I looked for you in the jail cell and you were gone. I was hoping maybe Mr Buttons sent you home." Xanical looked at me quizzically. "They've dressed you in finery. What manner of delusion is this?" I laughed. "Xanical, it's no delusion. Mr Buttons asked me to bring Socks home and he will send me back." Xanical's eyes grew wide, a look of shock on his face. He shook his head. "I don't believe that. I don't think Mr Buttons knows how to send you home. It's a trick. I can't even find a being in any dimension that can send you back," he stammered, the last part almost a whisper. I looked at him with horror. "That...that CANNOT be true! You said...you said before he could send me home. Was one of the only beings who could do that. He's even hinted that he can!" I screamed as tears flowed freely down my face. Xanical cast his eyes downward. "I don't know for sure, but those I have spoken to are extremely powerful beings. If they can't send you back, I doubt Mr Buttons can either."

I shook with pure rage. Why? Why am I in this place? What did I ever do to deserve this? Other than the sexual pleasures brought about by the blue beings, there was nothing here for me. The food was atrocious, no one was like me anywhere, and what would I even do? Hours of mindless sex - wait, no! Damn you libido! Stop going back to carnal pleasures. 

I looked at Xanical and pointed my finger at him. "You will damn well figure out a way for me to go home. Period. End of excuses." He looked astounded, and replied, " You can't always get what you want. Isn't that a song in your realm? I will keep trying, but you might realize that here you are looked on as precious and special - well, other than by Mr Buttons. There are much worse places you can be." Xanical disappeared with a poof. 

I ventured forth into the darkness of the woods. I wept openly, and a large quizzical Beast wandered toward me. It looked like a giant cat, maybe even a lion. It was large enough to eat me on the spot. I looked it right in the eye and spoke. "Go ahead. Eat me. I can't go home. I am lost and sad and frustrated. You may as well finish me off." To my shock, it rubbed against me like a cat, and curled up on the ground next to me. I laid my head on this gentle giant, and wept myself into an exhausted sleep. 

Morning came, and it nudged me with its cold nose. I awoke warm and relaxed, as it kept me safe. "Thank you, my friend. I needed that, " I whispered in its ear.  Purring was the response. I managed to get up and continue forth. The woods became less dark until finally I saw rays of sunlight streaming down. The road was becoming different. The dirty yellow brick turned into a sidewalk. Up ahead, there was a house - a house like I recognized. I began to walk faster. As I got nearer, I saw a small black and white cat sunning itself in the picture window. The tag on her collar said Socks. She looked right at me with huge eyes. Without hesitation, I ran to the front door and rang the bell. The door opened and...

"Tessa! Tessa! Wake up! Oh my god, I can't believe we found you. Thank God you're alive!" I slowly opened my eyes to find myself laying in the middle of a cornfield. I looked up to see two of my coworkers on their knees next to me. I heard an ambulance siren approach. " You were thrown clear of the vehicle in the tornado. James is dead. We had almost given up on finding you until she led us here." I weakly replied, "She? Who's she?"

Just then, a small black and white cat rubbed its head against my face. "That cat. She meowed like crazy until we followed her. She led us right to you." I lifted my hand to give her a nuzzle and noticed she was wearing a collar with a tag. The tag said Socks. The cat looked me in the eyes and purred. 

The ambulance arrived and it was a frenzy of activity. I was put in a neck brace, strapped to a backboard and loaded in. Socks jumped into the ambulance and curled up next to me, keeping me warm and safe. As we were ready to depart, one of the paramedics handed me a necklace. " This must've fallen off. It's a beautiful locket. Just glad we found you, Amelia." My eyes opened wide, and I asked, "Why did you call me that?" He looked at me and said, "Your name is on your locket." I looked at it, and sure enough, it said Amelia. Socks purred loudly.


Until we meet again,
Angie

Stop and Smell The Roses

2016.

As much as we’d like to blame a year for all the tragedies and loss that happened, unfortunately it’s life. Death has a way of coming when we don’t expect it to, or even when we do. Stopping it is a temporary fix. It’s the cycle of life that keeps spinning.

What’s tragic is the amount of talent that was lost in a single year.

Muhammad Ali: He changed the face of boxing and celebrity as we know it today. We would not have our Mike Tysons, our Sugar Ray Robinsons, even our Rocky Balboas without the antics of Cassius Clay.

Gene Wilder: The actor who created the world of pure imagination for so many children. Combine this with so many other great roles – Young Frankenstein, Blazing Saddles, Stir Crazy, Silver Streak and so many other fabulous films – and he will live in our hearts forever.

David Bowie: Musician. Actor. Icon. Unforgettable.

Alan Rickman: The actor we loved to hate. He captured our hearts in the Harry Potter films with the ultimate sacrifice. Always, Alan. Always.

George Gaines: Not all of you will recognize his name, but Commandant Lassard lives on from Policy Academy for me.

Prince: I have no words. The Artist in purple lives on though his music.

Garry Marshall: This writer/producer/actor has touched your life. I guarantee it. If you loved Happy Days, Laverne and Shirley, Mork and Mindy – you have him to thank. Directed movies like Pretty Woman, Beaches and The Princess Diaries. Before all this, was a writer for The Dick Van Dye show, The Lucy Show, and the Odd Couple to name a few. Even acted in a show or two.

Florence Henderson: Mrs Brady. No matter what else in life she did, she will always be Carol Brady.

Alan Thicke: The classic TV dad in Growing Pains. Alan could laugh at life and make fun of himself. That was part of his charm.

George Michael: He may have had life challenges, but no one could deny that this man had talent. A loss at 53.

Carrie Fisher: Princess Leia. A great disturbance was felt in the force today. Carrie was a part of pop culture that was bigger than she was. She will forever live in the hearts of millions.

This is a mere dent in the year’s losses. Death knew no preference. It came to all walks of life. I had my own personal tragedies, as did many of the friends I have in my life. Our losses are not minimized because the people/pets who passed in our lives were not famous. To us, they were everything.

However, instead of focusing on all the tragedies and all the losses, let’s take a minute to think about a few great things that happened in 2016.

The Chicago Cubs won the World Series…No, I’m not kidding. It really happened.

Being a Gilmore Girls Geek – the series revival happened on Netflix.

The World Health Organization has announced that measles have been eradicated in all the Americas.

World Hunger has reached the lowest point in 25 years.

Wild wolves are coming back in Europe, and for the first time since the American Revolution, wild salmon began spawning in the Connecticut River.

Humpback whales and giant pandas are no longer on the endangered species list.

The Olympics – International brotherhood never felt so good.

Pokemon Go – Bringing the world of gaming to life.

I can keep going, but I’ll let you figure out what the good is in 2016. Find your smile. Take a huge bite out of life while you can, and let the juices drip all over your face. You can dwell on what sucks in life, or you can pick yourself up and remember what makes you who you are. Maybe you’ll be surprised that someone thinks you’re incredible or maybe you won’t. Love yourself first. Then, God willing, let others love you back. Let’s have a fantastic 2017.

Until we meet again,

Angie

Everything I learned in life I learned from my Cat

 A tribute to my Zoey.

A cat that deserved the world.

Zoey was not just a pet to me. How can I refer to the one who listened to my trials and tribulations, snuggled with me when I weeped, was happy when I experienced joy, and was my constant companion for the past two and a half years as merely a pet? She had been with me longer, but it was her and I against the world when I moved into my apartment. I had to make the agonizing decision to put her to sleep this week.


Zoey was originally my daughter's cat. We embraced her into our world when I divorced for the first time. A squalling little ball of fluff, our boxer/mastiff mix Wrigley was looking more at making her a meal than adjusting to her. I have to say she had no fear of this 100 pound plus dog. As he growled, and bared his teeth, I raised my voice. "Wrigley! No! That's the baby. That's YOUR baby." This gentle giant looked at me, then looked at the tiny ball of fluff in front of him. Zoey then reeled him in, rubbing her body against his legs and purring. A lifelong relationship was made that day. From that moment forward, whenever Zoey cried, Wrigley would come running from wherever he was to make sure no one was hurting his baby. I learned a little charm goes a long way.

We also had a second cat named Blue. Blue was a foundling, and independent as hell. Zoey soon grew larger than her sister, and took every opportunity to tackle her. Blue tolerated Zoey, but when she had enough, would make sure her sister was well aware of who was in charge. Funny to see the cat who was double the size of the other turn and run, often making a horrible sound as she fled. I learned teasing is fun, until it isn't. You need to know when it goes too far.

My stories of Zoey and the vet are legendary. This hellcat hated the vet with a passion, and I often wore the scars of a wrangler following those visits. For a big girl, she was surprisingly agile, and her four paws hit the opening of her kennel every time. I was bit, hissed at, scratched, head butted, peed on, and generally abused when I took her to the vet. Wrestling an alligator might have been easier. I learned to fight from these encounters - don't let the world take you down without a fight.

While at the vet, every single time she was an angel. The vet looked at her beautiful teeth, and told me most cats have tartar on their teeth, but not Zoey, Hers were white and shiny - the most beautiful teeth the vet had ever seen, right up until the day I had to put her to sleep. My comment always was that her best hobby was eating, and she was really, really good at it. I learned to embrace what I am good at, regardless of what it is. Life doesn't follow a set pattern.

My little angel was afraid of other people at first. I'm not sure why, but she was usually hesitant with folks she did not know. I always knew when someone was exceptional. Those were the people that Zoey showed little hesitation to. She had her select caregivers, and a few people she liked. When she trusted you, she trusted you with her whole being. She purred, and played, and slept with them. From this, I learned how to trust again. I learned that no two people are the same, and to give people your heart. If they show you the same in return, it's a gift.

Zoey had a fetish for feet. The stinkier they are, the more she loved them. As a kitten, Zoey was exposed to Jess working in fast food. She would often come home, smelling of burgers and fries. That silly kitten would stuff her head in Jess's shoes, and just lie there. This developed into her love of all stinky feet. It was always as if my shoes were her property, I was merely borrowing them. If I needed to find Zoey, I had to look no further than my shoes. I learned that we love what we love. It may not make sense, but everyone has their own reasons for what they want. It's never wrong. Never let anyone tell you differently.

When I would go on vacation, Zoey would always make me work for it when I came home. I knew she missed me. She would sit on the table and glare when I came in, but within a few hours she would be my girl again. She'd curl up in my lap, and talk to me. We'd play, and she always loved me to get her belly. I'd always think about Fat Bastard in Austin Powers as I said, "I'm...gonna..get...that...belly! Head! Feet!" She'd nip at me, but her tail would be going a mile a minute. I knew she was having fun. She also adored her toys. I learned how to have fun, and how to not hold a grudge. Life is short.

I am missing the mornings with Zoey. Usually about 2 minutes before the alarm went off, she'd get up next to my head and purr. The alarm would go off, I'd hit the snooze button, and she'd begin to head butt me until I got up. She wanted her morning treat (actually bladder medicine, but a treat to her). We'd hang out together in the bathroom. I would shower, and she'd be in there soaking in the warmth of the room. We'd breakfast together, and as I left for work, she stood in front of me, knowing she got kitty treats when I left. This was a daily ritual, and she never let me forget. The past few days my routine is out of whack. I learned that sharing the simplest things with someone might seem ordinary, but it means more than you think it does.

My girl has crossed to the Rainbow Bridge.
On the other side, her protector Wrigley and her sister Blue were waiting for her.
I am thankful for every moment this precious girl was in my life, and I pray that wherever she may be, she knows I loved her very much. A pet is family.

Until we meet again,
Angie

Conquering the Monster

Once again, back to my roots. A little short story to tickle your brain. Enjoy.



The air felt of heaviness, leaving me breathless again. The mountain I faced was but a step in my goal toward finishing my bucket list. No better time, no better place - this was important. My arms quivered, my legs ached and I knew it would be easy just to quit. I wanted to walk away and crawl back to my self-imposed exile, but time was of the essence. I decided I had something to prove.

My best friend had tried to talk me out of this. "What if you fall and no one is there? What then?"
My reply was a bit curt. "We are all born to die someday. At least this way I will die knowing I believed in something. Die having an adventure. I can't think of a more appropriate way to go. I could die walking across the street, falling in my bathtub, or being murdered by a random stranger. There are much worse ways to leave this world."
She looked at me with those eyes, the ones that bore into my soul. She replied, "You're afraid. You just won't admit it."
I wasn't having that justification. Yes, she knows me well. That's like saying peanut butter and jelly might taste good in a sandwich together. We've been best friends since first grade. We'd been through divorce of her parents, death of my father at age 13 to the Monster, first love, losing our virginities (hers to Steve McIntyre, mine to a random 19 year old at a drunken party), high school, college, my marriage, her rape, my divorce from an abusive drunk, my miscarriage after the divorce - we have run the full gamut. This time was different.

The peak loomed so far above me that I got dizzy staring at it. Maybe she was right. Maybe I can't do this. Yet, a little voice nagged inside. "You can." I took a deep breath, forcing air into my lungs and my brain. I took out a power bar and slowly ate it, feeling the sugar and protein give my body a bit of much needed fuel. My brain, robbed of some of its oxygen, went into its own direction as my elevation increased. Memories tiptoed in on kitten feet, and grew to the size of elephants.

My dad was my hero. There wasn't anything he could not do. We played baseball, flew kites, drove for hours on end, and had that relationship of a Daddy's girl with her dad. I was a tomboy, through and through. My mom wasn't part of the club. She had her friends, her social engagements, and her criticism of me and the way my dad treated me. We had nothing in common. It was if there was absolutely no way she was truly my mother. My dad took her verbal abuse because he had me. At age 11, something changed.

He came home in the middle of the afternoon. I had just come home from school, and my mother was playing bridge with her cronies. His face was ashen, his countenance different than I had ever seen. My mother barely glanced up from her game. I knew something was wrong. My dad walked into their bedroom, and sat on the bed staring at the wall. "Daddy? Are you ok?" I asked with trepidation. He continued to stare at the wall. I ran to my mother. "You need to come," I stated, no question in my voice. My mother started to protest, and out of my mouth came "Now, dammit! He needs you." Once the words burst forth, I thought I would get the belt for sure. To her credit, I must have shocked her enough to make her move. My mother walked into the bedroom and shut the door. Her friends stared at me like I had two heads. I didn't give a damn what they thought - those ladies with the sticks up their butts. Stuck up snobby bitches.

I heard mumbling, then what sounded like my mother bursting into tears. That can't be right. My mother never cries. Honestly, her emotions are not something Dad or I ever see. I inched closer to the door. I heard snippets of what was said. "Doctor" "Cancer" "Tumor" "Inoperable". My brain began to spin. No! That can't be right. My dad can't be sick. He's invincible. Unfortunately, being invincible is merely a fairy tale. It isn't real. I sunk down to the floor and curled into a tiny ball. I wept until I thought I could not weep more. Once again, I was wrong.

Days grew to weeks, weeks to months. Seasons came and went, and my dad was beating the odds. The doctor had told him 6 months to a year. No one told my dad's heart this. He struggled daily as his tumor grew, but he refused to give up. Chemo to try to shrink it, a bit of radiation...whatever it took to kill the tumor. I named the tumor the "Monster". I needed there to be something to fight, some foe to conquer. His spirit was hard pressed to break. Dad continued to be my hero. We still played baseball, until he could no longer find the strength to get out of bed.

Once Dad was bedridden, I read to him every day. He would smile, tousle my hair and kiss my cheek. Behind his eyes, I could sense the Monster growing. It devoured the smile until all I saw was pain. It robbed Dad of sight in his left eye as it marched through his brain, laying waste to all it touched. Dad became weaker, but I continued to hope. Six months was coming up on two years. My hero, my savior, my best friend - he couldn't die.

It was a beautiful fall morning. The pain seemed to be bearable that day, as Dad looked at me and smiled. I was reading his favorite book - The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. It always reminded my dad of his youth and the shenanigans he had. We laughed for hours. The laughter began, but the Monster swallowed it whole. The Monster won the battle that day. It was to be the final battle. My dad passed away -no fan fare, no funeral pyre - just a man.

Some say that grief can bring two people closer together. I wish I could tell you that was the case with Mom and me. It was more an oil and vinegar mix. I wept continuously for a year. She did what she always did, shutting me out, and becoming  even bigger of a bitch than I thought she could be. She told me I was a waste of life, and I did everything I could to prove her right. Ages 13-17 saw me spending the majority of my time with my best friend. Her mom worked three jobs and was never home.

Short of suicide, I exercised every other risky behavior to shorten my life. Drugs? Yes. Alcohol? Yes. Promiscuity? Yes. I jumped out of a moving car, leaped off a bridge, had a lot of unprotected sex, stole to support my drug habit - I was a huge train wreck. Somehow, I survived. I not only survived, but was holding a 4.0 average. This led to college, much to the surprise of my mother. After a bit of soul searching, I decided to do my dad proud.
My life changed. I became responsible, no longer lost in a drugged haze.

I continued to climb. My emotions were playing havoc with me. Too many memories. I wish they were all good. I wish my dad were here. He'd know what to do. Maybe I was afraid. Not everything in life is meant to be easy, but I think I have had more than my share of bad things. Nightmares. Breakdowns. My mother's constant criticism of how I handle my life. I'd say these are a few things I could do without.

The steep climb made my fingers ache, my toes cramp, and made me sweat profusely. I was relentless- I needed to reach the peak. I kept chanting in my head, "What you seek is at the top." I wanted so badly to believe that. Fighting the Monster was something I knew. It creeped in when I least expected it, and now I was waging war with my arch nemesis. The doctor said it was coincidence - the brain tumor my dad had was not hereditary. It should not have happened to me, but here the Monster was once more.

I was told mine may be operable, but the operation was risky. Mine was located in the frontal lobe - if something went wrong, my life's work of being a novelist would be over. My intellect could suffer, leaving me unable to comprehend the simplest of ideas. I was frightened. My best friend was right. Dad's tumor was on his brain stem, and removal would almost certainly have killed him. What a choice to make. Faced with a decision like this, my instinct told me to complete my bucket list. Here was the mountain to conquer. Here was the Monster that has plagued my lifetime. No better day.

Every fiber of muscle, every struggled gasp of breath - I kept up the fight. I held this thought, "I let you win before, Monster. Not today. You can take my life, you can make me lose my mind, but I will never surrender. " I reached the top mid afternoon. I won this round. The Monster would not win. I think I even saw my dad briefly at the top. He was smiling as he held out his hand.

"Mrs. Morgan? I'm afraid your daughter didn't make it. I am very sorry. The tumor was larger than we anticipated, and when we removed it, her heart stopped. We were unable to revive her."

The Monster had won. Heroes large and small were no match. Someday, somehow, a knight in a white coat will find a way to beat the Monster. Until then, my Dad and I watch and wait.


Until we meet again, my friends.

Angie

There's Something About Karen...

Karen is leaving Blue Cross. Those seem to be words I never thought I’d say. She has been such an integral part of the CAS team – training many of us in various things and taking the lead to get us there. Once she moved into her position as the HMO Claims Developmental Specialist, she continued to help us learn and grow. Now it’s time for her to learn and grow.

I know that to me she was a personal mentor. We may not have seen eye to eye at times, and I know I was not the easiest person to train. Karen has seen me at my worst. However, she has also helped me become my best. That is why I couldn’t let her go without saying a few nice things. I may not do everything right, but I wanted to do something I excel at for you, Karen.

Karen was one of the first people to encourage me to apply to be a CAS (some days I thank her, other days not so much!). I swore that was never going to happen, and she told me that I knew more than I thought I did. These words became a running dialog with her in my position. She never let me take the easy way out. She made me work for each answer, develop the research tools, and frustrated the hell out of me…at first. The longer I was in the position, the easier it became to find the answer and the greater the satisfaction for me. Yes, Karen could be tough and is to this day the master of the eye roll.

In her own way, she was teaching me to be successful.

I became a better friend to her outside of Blue Cross. I admired Karen for going to school, and envied the things that she learned. I also admired her love for her family. Even when she didn’t work directly with me, I still felt like Karen was my cheerleader. I continue to ask her a question or two from time to time but now they are the questions that sometimes even she can’t answer right away. It feels good.

Karen, I think you can do anything you set your mind to. I know you have had your doubts about leaving, but it’s time for you to show the world just how truly badass you can be. Never ever settle. Never ever give up. Wipe those butts with pride, girly! (hopefully not much of that and more of other stuff) You have made an impact in my life, and I am proud to be your friend. If you ever need a sympathetic ear, I am always here.

Thanks for everything,

Angie