A Simple Kinda Man

If weekends could talk, this past one would be telling the story of strength, sorrow, excitement, fantasy, and rock n’ roll.  A weekend worth remembering, but one that took a great deal of strength to endure on my part.

After two weeks of being completely mistreated by a man I only dated for five weeks, I cut all ties on Saturday morning.  I had planned on waiting to see him in person to decide what to do, but that all changed when he sent me an accidental text Friday night.  Backing up, let me tell you about my Friday night.  If you read my Friday post, you are aware that I was in contact with a musician I had seen last summer.  I found him on a dating site, and he invited me out to his show.  I went — all by myself.  After his set, we sat and had some drinks, and he called me later on that night.  I was pretty taken with him, but I hadn’t finished things with RST (the trucker).

That night when I was on the phone with the musician, I received a test from RST at 1:00 a.m.  It wasn’t meant for me.  That did it for me.  I just had had enough.  I sent him a message telling him to never message me again.  He did, of course, the next morning.  He acted like the victim once again.  I didn’t bite this time.  I told him that his lack of affection and attention made me lose interest.  I told him that I was looking for someone who actually wanted to talk and hang out with me.  He acted confused, but then told me off.  DONE.

The following night, I went out with my friends to watch the musician’s show again.  When he was done, we all hung out and played pool.  He ended up driving me home, and I invited him in to play guitar together.  We drank wine, played guitar, and cuddled all night.  He’s much younger than I am, and I have no idea if it will go anywhere.  Tonight he is coming over to cook me dinner, and I’m looking forward to spending time with him.  He’s fun to be around, and he’s a simple kinda man.   If anything we will have some fun and enjoy each other’s company.

On another note — I’ve tried commenting on a few of your blogs today, but Word Press is acting up.  Hopefully it will let me comment later.  Happy Monday my blogger friends — here’s to a great week.

How To Bring Meaning To Life: A Tribute To Music

Image result for Music never dies

Wouldn’t it be nice if we had a soundtrack to our daily lives?  Something to put meaning to the mundane activities we partake in.  This morning, I plugged in my earbuds and lip synced Foreigner’s “I Want To Know What Love It,” as I dressed for work.  Hair straightener in hand; dressed in jeans and a bra; I took care of some Risky Business. — I hit my performance peak with Neil Diamond’s “I am, I said.”   My uninspired morning routine was transformed into a scene worthy of the big screen.

In an effort to hang on to the morning’s thrill, I kept my earbuds in the whole drive to work…. shhhhhh yes, I know: I’m not supposed to drive with earbuds in — but it couldn’t be helped.  How could I possibly shut it down when “Every Breath You Take” by The Police was up?  I couldn’t do it; I was moved by the music.  As the sun began to rise; I hit the open road and breathed in life.  It was something else I tell you.  A extraordinary moment in life that raised the hair on the back of my neck.  AND all because of a little music.

Music is magical.  It invokes strong emotions like: joy, emapthy, sorrow, anger, and excitement.  It can pump you up or mellow you out.  It alters moods better than any drug out there.  It’s simply perfect.  Strangely, I’ve met a person or two throughout my life who claim to dislike music.  I know what your thinking: “WHAT?????????  I don’t understand.”    It seems impossible to have an aversion to music doesn’t it?   I mean sure, we all have our music preferences.  I can completely understand disliking modern day country, but to hate music altogether?  How does that happen?

A life void of music for me would be like a life void of love.  Music preserves my memories, holds me when I’m sad, motivates me when I’m tired, and loves me when I’m lonely.  This morning music simply made me happy to be alive.  Music has been with me through thick and thin.  A best friend until the end.

Sing us a song you’re the Piano man… and you’ve got us feeling alright.” – Billy Joel




Sounds of Silence

countryside road, drizzle, fog

My eyes opened to the pitter patter sound of gentle raindrops dancing on my roof top.  I stretched my arms overhead and noticed the warmth of my dog curled up beside me.  It’s Friday; it’s a Friday before a long weekend.  This thought brought a smile to my face as I lay warm in the comfort of my bed this morning.  I took my time getting ready for work; I wanted to savour the bliss I felt upon waking.

The “Sounds of Silence” rode along with me on my dark foggy drive to work.

I made a quick stop for coffee at my usual place.  The gloomy weather was the topic of discussion amongst the regulars.  No one was pleased with the soggy forecast for the last long weekend of summer. Nobody but me that is.  It’s perfect; just perfect for my spontaneous weekend plans.  The idea came to me as David Draiman’s voice built to a crescendo.  It was a breathless moment.  So what, you ask, is my plan?  MUSIC.

I’m buying a new guitar after work.  Something beautiful; something magnificent.  When I pick it up and let my fingers glide down the strings, I want to feel vibration echo through my body.  Once I find her, I will buy her.  Then I’m going to buy a bottle of my favorite wine before making a quick stop at the gym for a 30 minute run.  Once home, I’m going to soak in a warm tub; change into a pair of soft leggings and a warn out hoodie, light as many candles as I can find, and then, I will sit down to play.  I’m going to let the rhythm of the rain be my muse for the writing of a new song.

It’s been close to 13 years since I’ve written a new song. Writing was my outlet before I was put on medication to deal with my anxiety.  The medication dulled my creativity, and I lost interest in playing.  I’ve been playing a little since coming off the meds, but I need something new to spark my interest.  A brand new shiny guitar should do the trick.  I’m so excited I can barely sit still; I’m not sure how I will make it through my 8 hours at work, but I’ll manage.

Change of plans.  I checked my bank account and it didn’t agree with my plan, so I’ve had to revise my thoughts.  Instead of a new guitar, I will buy new strings for one of my old guitars.  My excitement level has gone down a notch or two, but overspending when I’m already in debt is too much for my anxiety.  So new strings it is.  A slightly anti-climactic ending to my story, but there will still be wine and candles, so it’s not all bad.


Catching Up

This past week has been something of a cleansing for me.  First, I’m feeling chemically cleansed because I stopped taking anxiety medication after 10 years of use.  My body is still going through the physical reaction to the change, and now my mind is catching up.

I’m definitely feeling a bit more anxious, and I am having to work extra hard at reminding myself to identify whether my thoughts are rational or not.  It’s hard to tell at this point if my anxiety is a result of coming off the medication, or if it has something to do with the lack of sleep and food I’ve been getting.  Maybe a combination of all three.  I’m toying with another theory; however, I think it’s too soon to determine it’s validity.  But something happened this weekend that has the little wheel (solo) turning in my head.

This weekend, I kept myself extremely physically busy.  I’ve found that the more I move, the less I feel like crap.  On top of my normal workouts, I moved a bed, cleaned my house, and then took on a landscaping project.  Yesterday was hot — extremely hot, and I decided to begin my yard project at the peek of the heat.  I busted up old rotten logs, racked gravel, pulled weeds, shovelled out my front garden, and hauled 2 big yard garbage bags or debris to my garbage bin.  Three hours of non-stop, heavy duty yard work in extreme temperatures had an unusual side-effect on me.

While tackling the yard work, I noticed I kept getting  dizzy, so I took several water breaks to keep hydrated.  When the work was done, and I was covered in dirt from head to toe, I jumped in the shower to clean up.  The dizziness continued, and so I figured I better try and eat something.  It was only 4:30pm, and I wasn’t ready for dinner, but I figured I could start the prep work.  I was in the mood to listen to some music while I cooked, so I brought up YouTube, plugged my speaker into my laptop, and found me some Willie Nelson.  The great thing about YouTube is that it continues to play songs that are similar to the one you chose.  Whenever I’m feeling physically off, I listen to old country.  A bit strange maybe, since I don’t even like newer country.  Anyway, I had a steady loop of ‘old country songs echoing through my house, as I chopped, grated, seasoned, and baked.

Song List:

Luckenbach Texas,   Blue Eyes Crying in The Rain,   Mama’s Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys,   Always on My Mind.

If you are under the age of 30, you may not be familiar with these songs.  This was the music of my youth; the kind of music that makes my soul ache for the past.  At some point during my dinner preparation, I pulled up a kitchen chair and just closed my eyes.  The music enveloped me, and I began to cry.  I sat, sang, and cried for almost an hour.  I haven’t cried like that since before I was medicated.  It didn’t hurt at all; it felt good.  It felt like a release of pent up emotions.  Is that what I had been doing?  Suppressing my emotions?  OR am I just extra sensitive right now because of the change to my chemical make up?  Like I said, it’s probably too early to say which is the case.  Either way, it felt good to cry unrestricted.  It will be interesting to see how I feel over the next few weeks.  I can tell you one thing — FEELING again, feels good.



Weeks End

Friday marks the end of my work week, and this week I couldn’t be more thankful for the BIG “F”.  I’m two weeks off medication one, and another tapering step down on medication two.  Emotionally, I’m holding up pretty darn good; however, my physical body is retaliating in the most unpleasent of ways.

Why oh why was I born with such a sensitive system.  If the wind blows the wroWhite Acoustic Guitar on Grey and White Textileng way, I get migraines or bloat out like a dead fish.  PMS plagues me, red wine and chocolate produce migraines, I get hormonal spikes monthly (40 year old acne), and I’m one of the lucky 20% of people who suffers from discontinuation of anxiety medication…. another BIG “F” explains how I feel about that.

Blah blah blah, ok, enough whinning, I have it out of my system (ish).  It’s Friday evening, and I should be preparing to sound out my mating call.  Instead, I’m invisioning my PJ’s, no bra, a glass of wine (white), and an evening spent strumming my geetar (guitar if you didn’t get the twang).  It looks like another night of me and the pup chilling to the sounds of Pearl Jam and Simon and Garfunkel.  Chin up though, how much longer can my body punish me for taking away it’s cranial happy dust?  Come on bod… I’d like my concentration, energy, and regularity back now please.. pretty please, I’m begging now, please don’t make me get on my knees, ok, I’m on my knees, I’ll do anything.  Almost.

Well all my party people in the house, have a happy weekend, and I’ll catch ya on the flip side. (That’s old lady hip talk)