You Could Be Mine

The opening scene of the movie that is my life this very afternoon.

I went on a walk with Tyra this afternoon again. Yes, it's really cold out and yes, there was more snow on the ground. The good thing about being out in this particular weather is that you are far less likely to run into another human being whilst dancing around in an "empty" park, to music that only you are currently privy to.


The above photo was actually taken maybe 2 days ago, but I basically looked just like this again today. :) White hoodie though. 'Cause you know - I'm spicy like that with my flashy wardrobe.


Hey look - it's me again.

Ok. So back to my story. When we get to this, the most glorious part of the walk, I take Tyra off of her leash and let her have at the snow banks. She is never more happy than when she is able to sniff any piss spots unhindered by me, the leash, and my concept of "walking". We don't necessarily have the same behavioral patterns when it comes to this concept, so when we're both unhinged and able to meander near one another, things work even better for us.

It's freezing cold outside. As in 5 degrees, negative 6 degrees "Real Feel". I left the house at 4:00, so I bet it was maybe 3-4 degrees warmer, but still. By the time I left the park, I was quite aware of the feeling of my stiff jeans - the ones two sizes too big for me - touching my red frozen thighs underneath. Those of you who have experienced this pre-frostbite feeling know what I'm talking about. It's weird. I didn't even feel when my phone vibrated in my back pocket to tell me I had received a text message. That's one frozen ass. Brr.

Anyway. Since I'm quite recently obsessed with Guns 'N' Roses all over again, with the acquisition of their "Greatest Hits" album, I was of course doing the snake dance all through the park, with a less dramatic version for those parts of the walk that take us through neighborhoods and prying windows. The front half of the park is pretty much all wooded - not with the massive pines like they have up north, but the ones that host the prettiest colors each and every autumn. There are a few trails through there that I like to mosey on through. Something about the woods - maybe I was a wood fairy in a past life. :) Or Paul Bunyan.

I also quite enjoy the big ring around the open field at the other end of the park - especially where there are again trees. It just occurred to me that I really am, literally, a tree-hugger. How did I not realize this before now? Hm. Interesting.....interesting...........

But maybe not as interesting to you, so I'll try better to stay on track with this story. Tyra is following her nose from pee-spot to pee-spot, I'm listening to "Civil War" through my headphones and dancing my ass off down the powdered path. I wish I would've brought a camera. You could see my slippery dancin' footprints in the snow behind me.

As I'm singing harmony along to one of Slash's many guitar solos and alternatively pretending to be Axl Rose, complete with arm movements and swinging hips, to accompany the oh-so-rockin' vocals. Because - let's face it, people. One cannot properly rock out to Guns 'N' Roses without plenty of dramatic facial expressions, dancing, screeching, and half-whispered phrases like "patience..." or "what's so civil about war, anyway?" On a good day, I can even do the whistling. It's a bit more difficult when your face is frozen.

So there I am, completely in my own world, twirling about, singing like I was either alone in my room, or singing karaoke with my friends who are generally rocking along from their chairs. Mid-twirl, I notice there's an older gentleman on the path just ahead of me. Brown Carhartt jacket, one of those sweet grandpa hats with the ear flaps - down even - and a walking stick of some sort. He had obviously seen me before I noticed him. I wonder how long I had been amusing this guy.

I put Tyra back on her leash to pass him, and pulled one of my earphones out of my head, so I could also hear if he said anything to me. It occurred to me that in the past, I would've been quite embarrassed in a similar situation. Simultaneously, it also occurred to me that I sincerely was not. Not worried about it in the very least. I may have appeared strange to this guy who was probably nearing his 70's, but I doubt very highly that my singing and dancing was disturbing to stumble upon during a walk. I would love that, if I had run into it. Can you imagine? A world where we all wander around singing and dancing if the mood strikes? Sweet.

As I passed the man who has lived more than twice as long as I have, I made eye contact and we smiled at each other. I said "you're one of the brave ones - to be out in this". He smiled bigger and replied "you are too - one of the brave ones". Maybe it's just me, but I don't think he was talking only about the weather.

I grinned back at him and put my other headphone on just as "You Could Be Mine" came through. There was no need to pause and discuss - just two human beings, sharing a few smiles as we both continued on our respective paths. It was cool. Thought you might like that story too.

Love,

~Q~

Unexpected Reaction

February 2nd and I'm finally moving into the room I'm technically occupying. That's only - what - five and a half months of couch surfing in my mom and dad's home, where I grew up?

Not too shabby, Q, not too shabby. :)

I worked for probably five and a half hours, listening to the Cirque du Soleil soundtrack for "Varekai", which is achingly beautiful in a way that flies high above the various languages it speaks. I cleaned off the big dresser, which was definitely my sister's and before that I believe was my Grandma and Gran'pa Nelson's. Up until today, it had served primarily as a dumping ground for unopened mail, various hats, and a few things that Emily didn't move out with her when she left home many years ago. Now, it's much more in line with me. I also cleaned my highboy dresser, I cleaned the corner shelves and put all my books away, cleaned off the desk and even put several photos in new frames.

I'll post photos of my reorganized room when I get to that point. Right now, half of the room is in that awful middle stage, where things are strewn all over the middle of the floor. Mostly paperwork. :)

When I started this blog post, several hours ago, I was needing a break. I made the mistake of filing through a file folder entitled "Jason". My first Love got a Xerox box for all the 5 1/2 years of our sentiments. Jason got a file folder. A fat one, but not a box. It's either the 3 years vs. the 5 1/2 years, or perhaps I stopped collecting every little thing as I got a bit older. My husband and I actually lived together, too, so there wasn't nearly as many letters or notes to document our relationship.

Anyway - the point is -- that file folder: I wasn't expecting the reaction I had while looking through it. The times I'd go through the original break-up box, which generally happened about once a year, whenever I'd be getting ready to move -- my heart would ache and I'd generally end up crying. I don't really have many of those things left, as I was guilted into throwing away so very many things that had to do with my life prior to meeting Jason. Naturally, a similar sadness would be a reaction I would maybe expect from my first time really sifting through my estranged-husband memorabilia. What happened, however, was much more unexpected.

I literally and quite physically got nauseous. I had to put the folder away without quite finishing the perusal, close my eyes and breathe slowly and deeply so I didn't upchuck all over the carpet. Ew. I did not see that one coming.

Nor did I expect faint waves of sickness to return at the very thought of the things I read tonight. Gotta go - making curtains & watching "When Harry Met Sally". Much less volatile.

Love to you all,

~Q~

Weekly Reader + the Usual (ramblings)

Well, well, well.

So it seems that once you sincerely figure out what it is in life that will help move you towards happiness - AND (here's the kicker) actually rely on yourself and go after that elusive state of being - holy crap kids - apparently it's real.

WaitWhat?

I know, right? How else can one explain how my entire existence got so flipped upside down and inside out in such a short period of time. For awhile, after leaving the mr., I felt guilty. Not that I did anything wrong - I didn't. I finally took care of my own well-being and it's been the best damn idea I've ever followed through with to-date. No - I felt guilty for NOT feeling guilty for leaving my husband. I was happy and grateful and beyond finished with that entire way of living. Still - I always thought divorces were so sad, and no matter how "not-quite-perfect" the relationship was, it would always be really difficult.

I've changed my mind. Getting to the point where leaving was a preferred option - that was one of the hardest things I've survived. I mean - wow. Just when I thought I'd hit bottom and things wouldn't get worse -- yep.

"Just kidding! You thought THAT sucked!?! Wait 'til we see what's behind door number 3!"

Once I had actually made up my mind that I needed to change my situation and change it FAST, it didn't suck as much as I had anticipated. It was actually quite freeing. I cut my long hair off, no longer concerned with his opinion. I reconnected with old friends. I walked through the nearest wooded park every day - particularly loving it when autumn came. I hung out with Tyra & my cats. After a few months, I started heading out again & I met the most incredible group of friends.

So ok - I'm still legally married, so I guess I can't say it was "easy" to finalize the divorce (since I haven't done that quite yet), but that's because I'm so busy creating -- music, words, memories, friendships, & the Life I actually WANT -- I forget I'm still legally bound to a man who I haven't spoken to in months. Basically, I'm just too uninterested in going through my finances to finish the paperwork and I don't have any international rendezvous planned before 2012 (hiking the Inca trail with Ro, Heather & her kids, & ????????) so I'm not in any giant hurry. The reason that travel plans even matter (just realized how random that previous idea must've seemed) is because my passport never did get changed from my maiden name to my married name, so I have to legally reclaim my Q before crossing any borders. Unless it's between counties. Or states. Or cities. Or social mores.

The point I intended to write about when I started is this: Just this past August, I was completely miserable. I was living in a tiny town in southern Minnesota, where the only person I actually knew was my husband. Throughout the previous 3-4 years, I had gone through a massive mental breakdown that landed me in the hospital more than a handful of times in maybe a year to a year and a half. I fell in love and married a man who enthralled me because his energy was even stronger than mine, and he joked that his crazy could out-crazy my crazy under the table.

Helpful Hint: When someone tells you something important like this early in a relationship - they mean it. You should actually believe that. Another one I've heard is "you should run from me right now. I forgot how cool you are and how much I don't want to hurt you, but I think I will". Good call dude. Hind sight is 20/20, it's almost true. In that case though - he freakin' TOLD me what was up and I completely overrode the warning in my gut. Oops. You mean he was serious? Hm. Who knew?

Since I've long been convinced that my eventual partner-in-crime will be either a crazy conductor or a mad scientist (perhaps somehow both?) - the crazy thing intrigued me. Not gonna lie - it still does. Something about hitting 30 though -- I don't want to be crazy my entire life and I know I'm not going to be in this life forever. Been there, done that - what's next?

So I'm writing. And some girl friends and I just recently started a band -- it's called That's What She Said and it's already clicking into place beyond expectations. And I'm riding again - with the bruises to prove it. I should take a picture of the one from Saturday, when one of the horses I teach lessons on -Buddy the paint Quarter Horse - he got a bit bored of going so slow (beginner lesson) - he reached around when I was adjusting stirrup leathers and grabbed onto my arm with his teeth. That hurt - I have this pretty black 'n' blue half-circle on my upper arm. Ok - let's see if this works.......

Yeah --------> OUCH.




It's alright though - it was completely worth it. I think back to before August 20th and how insanely different my life was then from my life now.

#1 - I'm happy. Never thought it could happen. Pleased to be wrong.

#2 - I don't have to hide any of my injuries, because they aren't frowned upon (either because they were given to me by someone who never should have laid an ill-hand on me - or self-inflicted cuts that only served as short-lived eyes in that crazy-ass hurricane of yours truly during those years).

#3 - I was GIVEN A HORSE. On the day that I met him, by some people that I had only met maybe 30 minutes earlier because he & I clicked that well. The previous owners wanted him to go somewhere where he would be just doted upon. They/he chose wisely. I certainly do that.

#4 - I was given a keyboard. A nice one. Within 30 minutes of me putting mention on facebook. I named her Eirene. I have awesome friends.

#5 - I have awesome friends.

I'm pretty sure that this post is even longer than my usual ramblings. If you've managed to read this far -- bravo. Lemme know if you'd be interested in reading my memoir when I get that one finished. It's looking to be quite interesting. At least to me. :)

Which reminds me. The ENTIRE purpose for this post, at least as I had originally thought: my great new friend, Esther Marcella, hosts this radio show on KMSU, where she interviews writers. She knows that I write, and when she found that I write this blog, she asked me to be on her show.

Sure! So I'm told it's 10 minutes of reading work of mine and 10 minutes of Q & A, and she's already asked my permission to question my reason for starting this blog in the first place. I said "most certainly and of course". Abusive relationships and mental health issues and really unhealthy ways of coping with the stress that we ALL struggle with at some level or another --- not talking about it when it's been so integral in who I am today would be remiss. I have no intention of wallowing for the rest of my life -- continuing to classify myself as a victim when I know damn well that I am just as strong, just as brilliant, and just as beautiful as you are. Yeah you. We all are strong, brilliant and beautiful. So yes - I will talk about it openly. And I will NOT be returning to re-experience that chapter in my life ever again.

Wrap it up, Ms. Minnesota-Good-bye............

Alright. Later Gators. :)

Love you all,

~Q~

Dabbling - fun to say AND fun to do! Doesn't pay too well though....

Can I just be a professional dabbler? Because I'm extremely satisfied and content and happy with basically everything that is going on in my life, but I don't get paid for almost any of it, and at this rate, I'll still be living with my poor parents when I'm 35. Maybe 40. Um....not ideal. For any of us.

It's not that I'm not productive - I'm quite active in my dabbling. You should see my planner - it looks like I actually work and have meetings and other non-interesting-type things. The only thing is - all of MY events are all interesting things I have planned for myself but only one of these weekly events pays me any money. Trust me - it's not enough to live off of.

So how do you people do it? How do you make enough money to support yourselves and not want to slit your throats from obligations and the sense that you aren't living life the way it was meant to be lived? Or is that even a problem for anyone else but me? Money is not even the slightest bit motivating for me in its own right. I have zero interest in dropping any of my hobbies, but I also can't imagine also picking up a "real job" while still being able to maintain #1 - my new-found sanity and #2 - all these awesome activities and events and interests I'm dabbling in. There are just so many hours in the day and this lady also really enjoys sleeping.

Dabble. Dabble. Dabble. That's a funny word. I like it.


Here's a sampling of what I've got various toes dipped in at the moment:

* Lyric -- my amazing, wonderfully intelligent, incredibly sensitive horse who was gifted to me maybe 6 weeks ago. He & I have been hanging out as often as possible, and the ONLY time he didn't hold it against me when I missed a day of visiting him was when I had that terrible cold for a solid week or so AND I made a point to visit him while still partially sick, so he would comprehend why I had gone AWOL for so long (meaning like 3 days in a row). Any other time I've missed even a single day, I've gotten the rump when I go to see him again and he gets stubborn about quite a few things. Like walking next to me. Or letting me hug him. Or even accepting my treats. I'm not joking - he's got SUCH a personality and the guy is maybe even more sensitive than me. Maybe. :)

* Tyra, Trinity & Maya -- I feel bad lumping them all together when Lyric got his own category, but for the sake of brevity, that's just how it shall be. The point is, the other animals that call me "mom" also need daily attention. They're more forgiving than the horse, but I feel bad when I can't spend as much time with Tyra. I've brought her to the barn a few times, which she quite enjoys, but the cold isn't too kind on her aging bones, either, and she becomes quite the 80 pound lap dog around Lyric, which would make riding quite difficult. The cats only really get pissy with me if I stay out all night, since night is when we always cuddle. They let me know when they're mad though, either by throwing up, peeing on my clothes, meowing loudly at me and weaving around my legs upon my return, or a combination of all of the above.

* Writing -- In addition to the MASS quantities of journaling I feel remiss without engaging in, there's also the memoir I'm working on. My writing group meets once a month, so that keeps me more on task, but I still have quite a bit of work to do on that bad boy. Quite a bit. Then there's this blog, which I also don't keep nearly as updated as I would like to, at least in an ideal world, where I'm not ONLY Superwoman, but also Queen Goddess of the Universe in Q-form.

* Music -- I'm pretty good at supporting all my musician friends by attending many of their performances, but even that is getting to be more difficult, with so many of my friends BEING musicians and therefore having shows at conflicting times & dates. I can only be in one place (at least physically) at once so.....it's a juggling act at times. My weekends are insanely busy. Then - the big commitment in this category is the band a few of my girlfriends and I have recently started -- That's What She Said. I have much music writing to accomplish and I want to get it all done yesterday. :) Oh then there's the cello I've been craving. I found a probable teacher in South Minneapolis, but due to a lack of funds, I have to wait until at least next month to be able to rent a cello and start learning my souls-instrument. Boo.

* Friends! -- Before leaving my husband and moving back to Kato, I sincerely believed I had no friends. What? Why? I know -- it seems insane now. I don't really even have enough time in a day to keep updated on all that is going on with everyone that I care about, much less keeping tabs on which of my friends know what about my life and keeping all interested parties updated. I apologize to you guys for being so scattered - life is speeding up at an exponential rate and I can barely keep tabs on all that's going on in my own life. Good thing I'm blissfully happy (since almost everything keeping me busy are things that I truly want in my life) or I'd most likely be back in the hospital with at least one new batch of scars.

* Riding lessons -- This is the one that actually pays me. Far from being enough to live off of, it does help keep my animals in treats and me in "going out to see my friends play live music and going out to coffee or lunch" money. So that's good. I teach beginner riding lessons to two lovely college-age ladies each Saturday - it's fun and I think I'll be adding at least one other student in February.

* Physical health -- I've been working out with my mom several days a week - she utilizes the treadmill and I rock the elliptical. I would really love to run the inaugural marathon in Mankato next fall......so there's that. I've been dropping weight since moving home, but I think I've hit the plateau of what's just going to melt off due to happiness vs. misery. Time to actually watch what I eat and exercise. Oh - which reminds me -- fire swings. :) I am now part of the Good Cooks dance company, and we're looking at putting on a show in June, and part of the show will consist of fire-swinging. I've been swinging fire now for probably 5-6 years, but I had quite the hiatus in there when my wrist was broken, so I need to muscle up on that and practice on a much more regular basis.

* I know I'm forgetting things. Oh - the divorce. Duh. That still hasn't happened and it needs to. Grad school application and all the financial paperwork that goes along with that. My finances. Don't get me started because I'm almost-successfully avoiding this train of thought and tonight is not the time for me to delve into that one. The dozen books or so that I'm in the middle of reading. The fact that the government is beginning to push me to get my ass back to work sooner vs. later -- I'm working with a local employment agency so I don't get booted off of my disability before I'm ready and able to deal with that. Being a good friend - friendships take time to nurture and I'm all about it.

That's enough, right? I may even be forgetting more things I'm working on, but that list alone is enough to push me close enough to the edge of the "icky panicky feeling" that notoriously sets me off down the path I'm trying so hard to steer clear of. (That would be the path of self-destruction, if you were wondering.)

Hm. Alright - well - 2 a.m. and I'm wide awake (since I took a several-hour nap this evening), so perhaps I'll dabble in something quiet and yet productive. Memoir it is. :)

Dabble.

Love to you all,

~Q~

Balance, moderation....I'll get it one of these days

Alright, alright, alright.

So last night, I had the fantastic idea that I needed to stay off of the internet for awhile, as I feared that I was quite addicted and should thus rein that in ASAP. I was initially thinking that perhaps two days away would suffice my need to e-detox, but through discussing this plan with one of my very best friends, it was strongly suggested that nothing less than one full week would get this particular toxicity out of my system. I asked such questions as: "what about my divorce? can I work on my divorce?" (The paperwork is all generated online) and objected with "but what if something really important is emailed to me?".

Since I've procrastinated on the divorce paperwork for..........a long time now, really - would one more week make that big of a difference? Well......no............but.........

And are there any important emails that you are expecting in the next week, that you can't wait a week to respond to? Well.............I emailed the cello guy about lessons, and I want to hear back from him as soon as he replies, but.............not really life-threatening, I suppose.............I have no job applications out or anything.....................

*sigh* It was the sense of that icky-panicky feeling in my gut that I used to get when coming to the end of a bag of the green stuff, or when I had no more pop and no money to get more, or when anything I really passionately (if not desperately) desired was so obviously NOT happening in a timely enough fashion for me --- I got THAT feeling at the thought of being cut off from the world at large via the internet and so I figured that meant I was obviously addicted and needed to cut myself off cold turkey.

Of course, I went and immediately took all the necessary steps to bully myself into STAYING offline the full week. I told everyone on facebook what my plans were, I emailed a few people to let them know of my plans, and I even set up a "vacation response" to let anyone who emailed me know that I would be offline until next Tuesday, January 12th. I logged off last night around 12:30, just pleased as a pony in an apple orchard with myself for being so "healthy" and making this difficult decision.

Oh. My. God.

And then I woke up today, but refused to actually fully open my eyes and sit up until Mom came home for lunch at noon. Got the morning down - good job, Q.

I had lunch with Mom, read the Free Press, cheered out loud when I read that the bill that was passed last year requiring mental health parity from health insurance companies (meaning, mental health and addiction treatments are now covered in the same manner as physical disorders --- a HUGE step) is now in effect here in Minnesota, and talked to my beautiful dog Tyra.

By 1:00, I was down here in my cavern, writing in a journal (too unsure of my self-control to even turn on my computer so I could type), and by 1:30? I was in tears and having just the WORST time of things. All the old coping scenarios ran through my mind, none of which are actually helpful for longer than maybe 20 minutes. I wanted to talk to my best friend Ro, but with the geographic distance between us, I can't afford to phone her but once a year (on her birthday -- not until August). What I normally do when I need her input is to write to her - long, descriptive narratives that are the closest I can get to calling her up or heading over to her house for a hug and a vent session. I then also realized that even though basically everyone else in my life could simply pick up the phone and call me if they wanted to reach me, she couldn't. She calls ME once a year, on average, as well, and my birthday isn't until July. What if she needs to hear from me in the next week? Or am I simply being that self-important to think she'd perish or suffer without me to correspond with for 7 entire days?

I then started in with the "holy crap - you can't even go 24 hours without the internet? That's so pathetic, Q. Get a grip. Get a(nother) new hobby. Read one of the 15 books you have delved into that are littering this room, page corner bent down, book mark holding your spot, or book simply lying flat open, so you don't lose your place. Get on the treadmill." That last one exhausted me with just the formation of those words in my mind.

"I caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan't" my other internal voice whined. Me, myself & Q all know that what that really means is "I don't WANT to and you can't MAKE me - so piss off."

The silliest part of this whole predicament is that I did this entirely to myself. It was my idea. Once I had the situation set up so that I would feel obligated into following through - I freaked out. I KNOW this about myself and I STILL do it! I have joined probably 3 or 4 different health clubs in my life, thinking to myself -- "well, if I'm paying a monthly fee, I will certainly make myself go so I don't feel guilty for wasting the money".

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!!!!

Oh if only that worked. That tactic has the exact OPPOSITE effect on me. Once I feel the pressure to go to the gym, I refuse. I shut down and won't even discuss it with myself any further. I WILL NOT be forced into working out, just because of the money. I even pull out the economic concept of a "sunk cost" -- you know, where the money is already gone, either way, so why add additional pain and suffering of doing something I don't want to do? That just increases the total cost, overall.

Guilt is really an extremely ineffective motivational tactic. So is obligation or pressure -- from society, from family, from your peers, or from yourself. It's like forcing an addict into treatment. Even if that addict jumps through the required hoops and stays sober for the duration, graduating with flying colors at the end of his/her stay ---- if it isn't something personally desired, none of that will stick or be assimilated within. It's pointless.

Anyway - I discussed this predicament with my mom and then later on, with my dad as well, and they both said the same thing: "Who is running your life, anyway?"

Ummmm.....me?

"Isn't this another example of your black and white approach to life?"

Oh......

So through these discussions, I realized that I was not accomplishing the intended goal by staying offline for a full week. It isn't the internet that is such an issue for me. There are completely beneficial uses for the internet. Staying logged on to crackbook 24/7, even though I always have 3-4 other tabs open? Yeah - that's a bit much. A lot much, actually. I also realized that going cold turkey - banishing all internet from my life for 7 full days -- that's not really in line with the whole "balance" or "moderation" concept I'm working on. As Mom said, "that's like putting yourself on a diet and allowing ZERO cookies the entire time. Of course we all know what happens -- you deprive yourself, you crave it more, and then you either scrap the diet with a box of cookies, or once the diet is over, you then eat the box of cookies." It's really self-defeating.

As it turns out -- I DID have an email waiting for me from the cello teacher - one I'm happy to have received today instead of next Tuesday (as he asked about setting up an introductory lesson next Tuesday evening) AND I also got an important email from RoRo -- one I'm glad I received today instead of next week.

The new and modified plan, therefore, is to attempt to set boundaries for myself with the crackbooking. I will do what I need to do and want to do while online, but I will not keep myself logged in "just because". Let's see how this whole "moderation" concept plays out.........Never a dull moment!

Love you all~

~Q~

an awesome email, with a precursor of a completely random memory that I ran with (go figure)

I received this email in my facebook account earlier today, from my fantastic friend, Moosh. A bit of background for those just hopping into my life in the recent past:

Right out of college with my bachelor's in equine administration, I went to work for the US Dressage Federation as a Programs Coordinator. When I was hired, we were based in Lincoln, Nebraska. After 1 year (exactly), I was piled into Big H (my trusty olde Honda Civic hatchback, incredibly full of random stickers spouting my viewpoints. Because if anyone knows anything about Life, it was me at.......22 or 23. Duh. And I so obviously know SO much more at 30. Seriously.) and I was picking up a good-looking young hitchhiker off of Highway 2 headed out of Lincoln. His name was something that is normally spelled with a "C", but his was spelled with a "K". Kody. That's it. Kody, who was a few years younger than me (I think he was 21 - I would've been 22 for another 6 weeks, so.....almost 23). He was hitchhiking from California to Bonnaroo in Tennessee. I happened to be moving to Kentucky at that very moment. He threw his stuff in the claustrophobic back of Big H, met Tyra, Trinity and Maya, as well as me :) and we spent the next 3-4 days chillin' out. We went to my ex-fiance-#1's for a stop through, and we spent the night at my aunt's house in St. Louis. Kody cooked us some killer scrambled eggs in the morning. We drove to Lexington, KY and had water fights in the pool at the extended stay hotel my company put me up in, ate buns and peanut butter from the local grocery store, drank all too much with people we just met, and then hugged and said good-bye. For the record, nothing sexual happened. It was almost innocent. In that aspect, it was completely innocent. :)

Whoa tangent. Slow down little lady.

Wow. So the point was, before my wandering fool brain took off into a memory I hadn't thought of in probably 5 years --- the point WAS, dearest internet --- I worked with Moosh since about 2-3 months after I started at USDF, which was a good 8 years ago, and shared tons of time, stories, and life with her over the next 2 years or so.

You should hear some of the stories we have from when all of the LC was together over those years. Ye gods.

I got this email from Moosh earlier today and yes - I did get permission to share it with the world (all 3 of you).

Q-
Love the lefse! I really didn't know what to expect, so I didn't look it up online or anything, I wanted to be surprised. I followed your serving suggestion, and I was so hungry when it came that I ate almost a whole pack myself.

So here is the conversation with the boys and me, after Scott brought in the package:

Aaron: who is it from, mommy? Me: it's a treat from Sarah! Matthew: Sarah Palin?
Me: no, Sarah Quick, you know her. Matthew: oh, your new friend? Me: she's not really my new friend, I have known her for quite a while. Matthew: is she a judge? Me: no, she was just coming to the show to see us. Aaron, upon seeing the lefse: I thought it was going to be candy corn! WAAAAAAAAA. Matthew, upon seeing it: it's ok Aaron, I like quesadillas.

Yes, they think they are so funny :-).

Anyway, thanks so much. A very cool treat!

Love,
Moosh



Aaron and Matthew are Mooshey's twin boys, who just turned 5. They have a younger brother, Luke, who is 2. She and her husband Scott have their hands full, but they are absolutely delightful kids, all of them. I *heart* them. Even if they did think I might be Sarah Palin.

Love to you all!

~Q~

Reasons to be Grateful - Now

I used to sit and write in one of my journals for hours on end. Sometimes I was all hopped up on Sudafed (legal speed) and so my fingers could rush across the page even faster than usual and I was able to keep that pen clutched in between my thumb and first 2 fingers long past the point of cramping - where the pen left an indentation on the pads of my fingers. Yeah, so my jaw was clenched and I'm pretty sure my heart was racing - what's your point? This wasn't always the case by any stretch of the imagination. I wrote while sober quite frequently as well, just so you know...

The point here is that one of the things I used to write about were things that I wanted to be grateful for -- things that I had not achieved, primarily. I picked up this trick from watching "The Secret" more times than I can keep track of (not that I even attempted to keep track of this count). The entries always started with "I am so happy and grateful now that..." and I would list at least one full page full of my wishes for my life, as though I was already at that point. I'm not at home right now, so I don't have immediate access to those journals, but I imagine that to look back at those lists would be quite the eye opening experience.

Tonight, however, I don't want to live encased in dreams for the future. Yes, I am a dreamer and I will likely always remain a dreamer. I'm with you in spirit on this one, John, my second favorite Beatle. But lately - I'm living the most beautiful dream, one I couldn't even imagine this past summer. So here -- these are the things that I am so happy and grateful for in my life tonight:

* serendipity
* my amazing family, who have really shown their true colors to me since I left Jason -- they'd do ANYTHING to help me because they LOVE me, and I no longer harbor any feelings of doubt about my worth in our family system
* my incredible friends --- when I turned 30 this past July, I refused a birthday party because I was certain that nobody would make it, and that even if some people DID come to it, it would be awkward as ass because I'd be trying to make everyone happy and it would have been quite impossible -- as I was personally miserable. Now? It's amazing. Not only did I learn that my friends who have loved me this entire time still do, but I'm less concerned with possibly being rejected and more interested in exploring the world around me, including getting to know all sorts of wonderful, creative, beautiful souls --- so I'm making friends with individuals that I feel honored to know at all.
* my babies -- Tyra, Trinity & Maya -- and now my newest addition to my little Q family (which is getting more expansive all the time) -- Lyric, the most beautiful horse I've ever laid eyes on, who was flat out GIVEN to me on the night I met him because the connection between us was so intense
* the community that I live in -- I moved all over this damn country in search of myself and happiness, trying to find that feeling that I actually belong somewhere - somewhere that inspires me. Turns out? It's where I grew up. I love you, Mankato. :)
* Music - oh the music.......it's running through my spine once again and shooting out of my fingertips and the soles of my feet. It churns in my gut and spills out of my mouth, my ears, and my eyes. I've been introduced to an entirely new world of local musicians who continue to blow my mind away each time I hear them and I'm finally to the point that I feel comfortable enough in being Me that I'm willing to put my soft belly out there and open up as well. A few of my new friends and I are starting a band, by the way. It's a girl band. We just tonight came up with the name (kudos - brilliant Esther) -- we're going to be called "That's What She Said". Once the holidays are over in a few weeks, we're going to get this going. How exciting!
* Root beer and Wild Rice Pot Pie at the Coffee Hag, because holy crap -- if you haven't tried these sumptuous treats (especially this pot pie thingy) -- you just haven't lived a full existence.
* Esther -- you get a special 'shout out' (holla!!!!) because you just showed up and now I'm going to sign off and enjoy my fantastic evening with you!

love,

~Q~