Imogene “Idgie” Threadgoode

Photo by me

Jase and I out in public is at best hysterical.

Today’s adventure was the hospital. I gave the elderly man at the front desk my information. I could have sworn when he looked at the gal and gentleman next to him he said, “Imogene”.

A grin broke out on my face. Bubbling with enthusiasm, I blurted out, “Imogene! I love that name! That is such a great name, who’s name is Imogene?”

Jase standing next to me, “No Mare, imaging.”

Me, “I know honey, Imogene, isn’t that a great name!”

At this point, I was perplexed why no one behind the counter volunteered themselves as Imogene. Why no one was sharing in my excitement. Why was everyone looking at me like I pooped my pants?

Jase, “I-M-A-G-I-N-G, imaging honey, no one’s name is Imogene.”

If you’re familiar with the book/movie “Fried Green Tomatoes”, the name Imogene holds a special place in your heart. Much more than “imaging” ever will.

I’ll now hand the keyboard over to Jase to regale his take on this mornings exchange:

Jase here. Honestly there’s not much more to say. Mare was out of pocket; a total comic relief this morning. After she heard what she wanted to hear…the name I-M-O-G-E-N-E, she stood around looking like the only kid on the playground who didn’t get the punchline to the joke.

I’m allowed to poke fun of Mare. I tease her and say she’s not really a Ginger or Day Walker (with all of her cute freckles and gorgeous red locks of hair that stretch down to her butt). I say she’s more of a blonde dying her hair red. Or that she lives under the world’s deepest rock. Why? Cause she rips on me too. I’m pretty clueless. I have book smarts like math and physics, but when it comes to practical knowledge, that’s a different story. I have the street smarts of June Cleaver. But together….well we make up one well rounded brain…lemme just add a very good looking brain at that.

Mare here again.

There’s something about genuine laughter that lightens the heaviest of situations.

On our drive to the hospital, we listened to one of my favorite tunes. The lyrics help direct me to a better place. They remind me to honor all emotions and that we’re all in this together. Oooo this song gives me the “goosies” every time.

Put Your Fangs Away

Cricket the Cat

I seem to be moving in and out of gratitude, anger and fear.

I’ll take movement over stagnation any day.

Millions of people are suffering daily for multitudes of reasons, I’m well aware.

But this is my story. My corner to vent, show my fangs and then put them away.

As of late, I use all of my energy for work. When I say “energy”, it’s a lie, because I don’t have any. A better description is, I’m forcing myself to work, and my bank account is still at a negative balance, but on the bright side I have February’s rent.

Is it weird to say it’s a relief to not have enough money? I’ve been afraid of not having enough since my divorce and now that it’s happening I’m kind of relieved. I’ve traumatized myself for years and the trauma is over. My worst fear has materialized and it’s not as bad as I thought. Put rent first so you have a roof over your head and let the bill collectors do their jobs so they don’t get bored. I’m all about helping others.

Illness is slowly dissolving worries about certain subjects. The situation is too big for my humanness to figure out.

Everyday I feel as if I pedaled a bike up Mt. Everest through quick sand.

Being angry doesn’t feel good so I’m moving on. I’m putting my fangs away until further notice.

Write Damn It

Photo by me

Sit down and write. It’s what you love to do.

Ever since I was a little person I’ve enjoyed writing. Once I learned to read, I never stopped. A “bookworm” through and through.

It’s easy to pick up someone else’s writing.

Knowing you love writing and actually taking action, not so easy.

Especially when you’re the type of person who’s been waiting for the perfect first step their entire life and then you get so fucking antsy standing still you make impulsive decisions and take risks that make other people say WTF?

Perfect does not exist, nor will it ever exist.

Write because you love to write. Write because you see the miracle in constructing millions of words out of a measly 26 letters. Write because it makes you feel better. Write because it’s beautiful and it gives you a release. Write because freedom is found in words.

There are no rules here.

Throw off whatever you think is holding you back.

Become light as a feather and don’t overthink it.

I’m Glad I’m Not A Lobster

Holy balls, this made my day 🙂

Food.for.Thoughts gave me the Liebster award. At first I thought it was the lobster award and that lobster was misspelled.

‘Liebster’ in German means sweetest, kindest, nicest, dearest, beloved, lovely, kind, pleasant, valued, cute, endearing, and welcome.

Whew, I’m grateful I’m not a Lobster, although they are tasty, can be a bit “pinchy”.

Seriously though, Food.for.Thoughts is a great blog. I appreciate her honesty over burnout, depression and how to care for yourself. You will find interesting and informative posts with sprinkles of fun and humor along the way. Check it out!

She’s also lefthanded, as am I. We may be left handed, but we are always right. Ok, bad jokes aside………..

Here are the questions for me to answer:

  1. If you had an intro music, what song would it be? Why? Resiliant by Rising Appalacia because no matter how shitty things get I keep getting back up. I’m like the terminator for Christ’s sake.

2. What’s popular now, but annoys you? I don’t know what’s popular, so I can’t be annoyed by any of it. I’ve always done my own thing.

3. If you opened a business, what kind of business would it be? Someplace cozy and welcoming. A little bit of everything for every mood. Art supplies, yummy snacks, amazing books, smooshy sink in deep furniture, board games, puzzles, a climbing wall, cats and dogs roaming about, a few fire places, real cameras for people to play with etc…

4. Who in your life brings you the most joy? Jase is one funny fucker. My kids. Cricket the Cat. I also have amazing friends.

5. Where is the most beautiful place you have been? Where we live is pretty great. I grew up in the Midwest, so Colorado is a step up for me.

Being Bland Is Beautiful

Photo by me: “Bobcat Ridge” near our home

Do you ever feel “bland”?

It’s how I describe my mood and life at the moment.

I appreciate bland. For years I’ve been a “seeker”, looking for answers, looking for hobbies, looking for “IT”.

I’ve been addicted to novelty and the adrenaline rush of newness. I’ve never been settled.

It’s safe to say most of us go through a seeking phase in our youth. Feeling compelled to carve out who we are. Stand out. Be seen.

For years I sought physical and spiritual perfection. Subconsciously I wanted to prove I deserved to be here. I look back and chuckle at my antics.

Here I am with failing health, barely able to keep weight on my little body. I fluctuate between anger and gratitude.

I’m grateful for the slowing down. I’m letting go of fear, letting go of control, letting go of everything I thought I knew.

I am reminded that I am a spiritual being having a human experience. I am learning to be quiet and listen to Source.

Source is what I refer to as the “non-physical presence”. Call it whatever you want. God, Buddha, Universe. It’s all the same. I prefer Source.

I’m thankful for the stillness within, it’s why I feel bland. It’s a stark contrast to my constant “doing” that I’m accustomed to.

I have a feeling that my being forced to slow down will be one of the best things to ever happen to me.

Here’s a song by Rising Appalachia that I’m currently addicted to. They are sisters with powerful lyrics and music.

Shit’s On Tap

When life serves up a pint of shit, you’ve got 2 choices. Pinch your nose and drink it or find a different tap.

I’m working on finding a different tap. The shit in my pint glass is unacceptable.

I accept that it’s there, but I don’t have to drink it.

Accept and adapt.

Find a new tap.

Giving In

I’ve considered deleting this blog. Thought about what a drag it is to write about pain and fatigue.

Wrestled with Jase over the idea of letting it go. He’s urging me to keep going, I want to give up.

Fact is, our lives have been over taken by my pain and fatigue. When I go to work, I can’t give full vent to the intensity of what I’m feeling. I stuff it down, dig deep, and find a way to do my job until I can fall apart in my car and then back at home.

While at work, there are multiple times my body screams at me to throw in the towel, to give up and go home. There’s a tenacity somewhere with in that keeps fighting, keeps reminding me there are bills to pay. It’s getting harder and harder to “fake it till I make it”. Fuck that.

I can’t find the words to describe what my body is experiencing. Dragging yourself through quicksand with cinderblocks tied to every limb.

Washing my hair zaps my arms with the feeling of burning lactic acid in a matter of seconds, and I have to find a way to clean a home from 4 to 7 hours or work retail for the day?

Survival.

I prefer a bed in a house over an air mattress in a tent. That’s the only thing that keeps me going. I don’t desire homelessness.

I’m terrified that one day my body will protest to the point of just not working anymore.

I’m jealous as hell of those who can navigate illness with no thought toward their finances. Yes.

I. AM. JEALOUS.

I fantasize about not having the added stress of keeping a roof over my head or a car to drive to work to keep the roof over my head.

I question why I’m not in a better position this late in the game.

Well, fact is, I’m not. This is my reality.

All the “why’s” and “what if’s” will not change what is in my life right now.

The co~worker who is so steeped in her high vibrational frequency that when I share a crumb of my depth her response is “I’m so happy for you! That’s wonderful!” I want to rip her head off and shit down her neck for being such a superficial piece of garbage. OOOO but it’s not socially acceptable to feel that way.

If you can’t handle a watered down version of my truth, don’t fucking ask.

In my recent pod cast listening I’ve witnessed Lady Gaga and Gabby Bernstein share their struggles with chronic pain and mental health. I appreciate and love them for speaking out. For having the balls to admit to their followers they struggle. To overcome the stereotypes. They are badass.

I have yet to hear someone speak about illness and financial lack. I’m sure if I do enough digging, I’ll find what I’m looking for.

I don’t know where to put the feelings and challenges I’m facing. They are new and unexpected.

I’m not versed in not wanting to be outside or go on a new adventure. I don’t know what to do with physical lethargy when my mind is saying it wants to go have fun.