My Playlist

~ Because a song depressingly close to autobiographical yet STILL makes me dance to the beat is totally where it's at.

Polaroid Imagine Dragons
I'm a reckless mistake

I'm a cold night's intake
I'm a one night too long
I'm a come on too strong

All my life I've been living in the fast lane
Can't slow down
I'm a rollin' freight train
One more time
Gotta start all over
Can't slow down
I'm a lone red rover

I'm a hold my cards close
I'm a wreck what I love most
I'm a first class let down
I'm a shut up sit down

I am a head case
I am the color of boom
That's never arriving
At you are the pay raise
Always a touch out of view
And I am the color of boom

All my life I've been living in the fast lane
Can't slow down
I'm a rollin' freight train
One more time
Gotta start all over
Can't slow down
I'm a lone red rover

Oh
How did it come to this
Oh
Love is a polaroid
Better in picture
But never can fill the void

I'm a midnight talker
Oh I'm an alley walker
I'm a day late two face
I'm a burn out quick pace

I am a head case
I am the color of boom
That's never arriving
At you are the opera
Always on time and in tune
And I am the color of boom

I’m gonna get ready

For the rain to pour heavy
Oh, let it fall, fall
Let it fall upon my head

~ Because always.

Don't Give Up

By Peter Gabriel

In this proud land we grew up strong
We were wanted all along
I was taught to fight, taught to win
I never thought I could fail

No fight left or so it seems
I am a man whose dreams have all deserted
I've changed my face, I've changed my name
But no one wants you when you lose

Don't give up
'cause you have friends
Don't give up
You're not beaten yet
Don't give up
I know you can make it good

Though I saw it all around
Never thought I could be affected
Thought that wed be the last to go
It is so strange the way things turn

Drove the night toward my home
The place that I was born, on the lakeside
As daylight broke, I saw the earth
The trees had burned down to the ground

Don't give up
You still have us
Don't give up
We don't need much of anything
Don't give up
Cause somewhere there's a place
Where we belong

Rest your head
You worry too much
Its going to be alright
When times get rough
You can fall back on us
Don't give up
Please don't give up

Got to walk out of here
I can't take anymore
Going to stand on that bridge
Keep my eyes down below
Whatever may come
And whatever may go
That rivers flowing
That rivers flowing

Moved on to another town
Tried hard to settle down
For every job, so many men
So many men no-one needs

Songwriters: GABRIEL, PETER

© EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

For non-commercial use only.

Note to Self

Know when to throw in the towel.

That is all.
~ DM

Seriously, it can't be fun pissing off a writer.....

Double edge support: what? What is that, you ask? That is pure bullshit is what that is.  You heard me.

No worries about that anymore [brushes hands together] Peace out on the double edge support.  I didn't know I was such an awful person, but it turns out, I am. (Why, yes. Yes, that IS pissed-off-beyond-words-sarcasm spewing from my fingers. Sometimes I even grit my teeth while I type. True story.)

I have not been in the best of places lately - it's just been a really hard, stressful time for me. I've been fairly open, honest and upfront about it all, too. It's the #1 reason I knew I had to start writing regularly again - I knew tough times were headed my way, and than when Nate walked out 2 weeks later, well... The difficulty of this quarter was not altogether unexpected.  But even with warning, you try to mentally prepare for a rough patch, yet DUDE, it's still ROUGH. DUH. [Super duh]

Or, as my kids would say "Mom, the struggle is real."

I learned this very early on.  And thank you, mom and dad, for always being honest with us about real life money and job struggles.  I remember the exact job that taught my dad that *There's no loyalty.* I remember it so well, I can still feel the pain of his words. I knew they stung for him. I knew he was disappointed beyond explanation that this sad concept was real: there is no loyalty, it's not even personal, it's business. I am not disappointed in my employer - they have ALWAYS done right by me.  No, I am probably in less pain than my dad was, because he was responsible enough to try and prepare us for as many harsh realities in life as he could. SO I GET IT. I understand it, I don't blame any one person or my boss, or anyone above her.  I blame.....

no one, actually. It's business. 

I am a single mother with a mortgage, a car, teenagers, etc.  I have a lot that I take care of and am responsible for.  Hell yeah, it's hard. It just is. 

The rest of this one is private.  Yeah, I know, but I had to. Not worth the drama. 

As for the struggle: I am going to make it through.  Shit, I'm almost there - and maybe I'm not as joyful as I can be right now, and maybe life isn't as fun as it can be right now, but OH WELL. I will make it through.  Knowing me, I'll come out ahead somehow. *shrugs* I usually do :)

Tomorrow is my last day of work with the exception of one or two days and some on-call time. Because I inserted those, it's over weeks that I have off. I wanted to paint and do some things to the house, but we'll have to see how the finances look, lol!

That's all. 

Anyway, 

Just sayin'. *grin*

DM

Tonight I found the Words Thanks to Ross

I was surprisingly emotionally affected, just as everyone else has been, by Kira (Bear) getting mauled by a dog she spent everyday with - the absolute, all-encompassing feeling of love for this little girl and the equally visceral reaction of pain it stirred up in everyone is rather stunning. The thought of it, accompanied by images of an innocent, sweet baby ravaged by a dog is universally jarring.

Written and posted by Bear's dad, Ross:

Let it be known. Kira is a brute when it comes to animals. I have no quarrel with the dog that bit her. The only reason it deserves to die is so it can be tested for diseases to make sure my daughter is clean. The problem I have, and the reason I am so angry, is that 911 wasn't called when they should have been and the whole situation was downplayed. I don't believe our babysitter is a bad person, however I do believe they made some bad choices that day including not watching a one year old as closely as they needed to, not dialing 9-1-1 when they needed to, and minimizing the situation.

Thank you everybody for your concern about Kira, but please do not contact the babysitter for any reason. Please remember, that they are heartbroken that it happened. Everybody is safe now and it will not happen again.

That post is so spot on, I couldn't have written it better myself. It's almost exactly what I said to the boys, when they asked about it. And they had a lot of questions - like I said, universally jarring.

I have to imagine going from *wanting to avenge her* to actually *acting out on her behalf* was an easier jump than anyone ever faced before (giving everyone an outlet and target for ANY pain and anger they have inside).

However, I personally could never make that leap without consulting the family or victim first. At the end of the day, I wasn't there. I haven't walked in anyone else's shoes, and no one has given me the power to judge. Trust me, I wanted to shoot the dog. But I didn't want to go to jail, and I didn't want to lose my job. And I TOTALLY would have asked for permission first. Clearly I can decipher the difference between an emotional reaction/fantasy of revenge and something that legitimately needs my help or intervention. (Most things DO NOT need my unsolicited help or advice. I know, I think that's crazy, too.)

Honestly, you never know what was going on, and my own dog, shit - ANY dog poses this risk. For all we know, Bear may have been trying to take the dog's eyeballs out of it's head. She's ONE, she's A BABY! Maybe she was trying to find where pee comes out. Anything is possible, and she is a bright, curious little girl. Nothing would shock me. But absolutely - questions like "why the Hell wasn't 911 called ASAP?!" are legitimate and reasonable.  

It is STILL not my place to ACT unless I truly thought the actions following a tragic accident were putting an innocent child at risk. Which I know, and anyone who has ever met Stephanie Walker and Ross McClary know, that is not the case here. This is a case of a tragic accident involving a sweet little girl and 2 parents who did and will always do the right thing for their babies (as right as the rest of us anyway....).

Blame is a funny thing. Sometimes it seems so obvious and *true* - but that's not real life. Life is never black and white, there are all those stupid shades in between that make it all muddy. Sometimes when we feel *truth* we can be dead wrong. Ask all the assholes that have been recruited by ISIS. We can sure trick ourselves about righteousness, no doubt about it.

I'm super lucky to have Ross and Steph around. Even when Ross's life long friend, Nate, walked out, we remained my friends. I was scared I wouldn't have anyone around here, but they are always there if I need them. After moving 45 minutes away from my family to a town where I knew NO ONE, they are seriously the next best thing to living by family. Thank you, Ross AND Steph, for being you!

Just sayin, DM

String Anxiety and Other Crazy BS

When it rains, it pours.

I hate when a million things start to pile on me and the stress, tears, anxiety, ALL THAT bullshit starts to feel like a full time job. I hate when disasters happen to me in rapid succession.  I probably start to sound like a whiny baby when that happens but I don't really care.

Tonight, it's not the disasters happening to me - it's the disasters happening to my loved ones. I have so much *string anxiety,* it's practically suffocating.  I don't know what's worse, you're OWN disasters that you fight through or those of your friends and family - that you can't fight through FOR them.....

Yeah, I know, it's a bat-shit-crazy idea that I will NEVER understand: *String anxiety* is what I call the anxiety or overwhelming feeling of my wa being disturbed that I FEEL when something bad is ABOUT to happen or someone I am *connected* to is physically experiencing it. It is an actual physical feeling I get, as if *I* were the one suffering, and usually I don't know the reason until I start investigating.

After years, and I mean YEARS of this happening to me, I started putting it together. I can usually resolve the frustration by checking on the most likely candidates (re: I text my sister and ask her what the fuck is wrong), as just identifying the source helps ease it. Once in a while Bek or I won't know the cause and than we start to worry.  Nearly always, when whatever disaster was causing the premonition actually occurs, the anxiety disappears. (Obviously, Bek gets string anxiety, also - at least with our immediate family, and especially me.)

Incidentally, connections are not always permanent, and sometimes unexpected.  For instance, I can feel Emerald's pain, but I didn't always. The more physical time we spend together, the stronger the connection. I find it sorta fascinating when I'm not hating it. In the absence of physical togetherness, the connection has never occurred - or rather, now that I think about it, I don't actually know. I don't think so....I don't think I ever randomly predicted a painful experience for TWM, nor do I feel his emotions.

There are patterns, but I currently lack the technology to conduct experiments for more accurate information. It does sound like bat-shit-craziness, I am aware. But by now, even my parents know to take me seriously when I say *PLEASE drive carefully today....* And if I ask my mom to check on a family member, she does.

The last few days have been painful beyond words or any appropriate explanation - and I am only feeling the peripherals.

It's a very long story and not mine to tell, but Emerald's brother, Anthony is in the ICU.  A mass on his pancreas ruptured before it could be removed. He is a healthy, young, 30 year old man, on life support tonight. Emerald and her dad flew to Texas on Wednesday. He has the "worst level of sepsis" in addition to pneumonia complicating his condition. Work has been great, and we are ALL praying for the family. I am desperately hoping for the best and absolutely staying positive for her.

Than, last night, my neighbor and favorite little girl in the whole world, BEAR, was literally mauled by the babysitter's dog. She is ok, Steph rushed her to the ER, she had surgery in the middle of the night and came home today.  I can't even write about it. I just can't.

BEAR <3

Any and all prayers for the McClary/Walker family (it's on facebook, btw) and my bfaw, Emerald and her family are all greatly appreciated.

That is all I really have to say tonight.

Just sayin, DM

The AR Girl

For as long as I can remember I have wanted to write a book.  I don't know - it has always been a *one day* dream and not a *I must do it now* dream.  It's probably the ONE item on my bucket list that I will be really disappointed about if I don't do it.  

There have countless times in my life that I have sat and tried to force this dream into the *I must do it now* stage with zero results to show for it.  Well - scratch that - the totality of these blog posts is not in the least *zero results*.  There have been plenty of times I kept writing JUST to have a record of the stories in existence - even if I just one day compiled the funniest, the best, the most entertaining posts I've ever written into a book - that thought alone kept me going even when I didn't feel like doing it. 

And I am very proud of everything I have written, it truly is something I cherish. I love owning the story and the length of it, and rereading it. Sometimes I grimace, I often laugh, and I always feel grateful. 

Looking back, I really can't remember how many times I have thought to myself "why the hell can't you think of a story you'd want to tell?" I mean seriously?! I could never picture a novel-length story in my head that begged to be written.  I even think my life has been eventful enough and worthy of some really good novels (because I would take a lot of liberties, I mean poetic license, and I mean: a lot and make it really, really amazing duh....)

I am going to write The AR Girl.  I don't know what yet - a story, a blog, maybe both? But finally I can feel the familiar whisper of something calling me - something that feels real and full of potential.  I can start to feel the tingling of excitement when I hear the phrase The AR Girl.  FINALLY I can see and imagine - well, anything.  I can see a novel, a blog like this one, in which I just write about whatever I want, I can see lots of ideas floating around like tiny tv sets inside bubbles, in my head and I just need to keep poking at them until the right idea starts to kick the *I must do it now* feeling in until the *one day* feeling gets pushed aside completely. 

I'm excited. *tee hee*

Just sayin, DM

The Yooshooders and The Naysayers

NO, I'm NOT kidding. If you have something: stupid, negative, uninspired, unnecessary even, or sad to say and you AREN'T trying to give me a million dollars, I am just NOT interested tonight. Sorry. Nope, not even sorry.

This is the holidays - I want to enjoy the motherfricking holidays with my kids, and family. OK?

***Disclaimer*** [ya in camo, what?]
This post was not written about any ONE person.  And I write that sincerely.  It is a conglomerate of pressures that added up tonight and I wanted to vent.  But I promise, this is not about you. Or you. Or even you - so no worries.  I felt the need to say that because I can see several people reading this and thinking it's in regards to a particular conversation or spark.  It wasn't. I'm stressed, frustrated, busy, emotionally unstable, but not in the crazy kind of way, just in the tears up at any moment kind of way. That is all. 

I do NOT want to mope, cry, STRESS, think, think and over think about crap I can't change - and tonight? Tonight I was overwhelmed by the amount of people who do!  This is me: taking the night off, please take any of the above named bullshit elsewhere.  Only, I am also reserving this for tomorrow night, too, as I didn't actually get to do THIS until 9 pm.]

I don't even want constructive criticism.  I certainly don't want advice - especially the SHIT TON that seems to be heaped on me, on a daily basis.  People, really I should say MOST PEOPLE don't understand what they are doing when they start sentences with *You should.....*

Are we really that ignorant as a whole, that we always assume the person talking to us wants to - no, is GRATEFUL to - know what WE think THEY should do.  So of course I will tell you, I'm such a good person!

My answer is no, we aren't all that bad. Nor do I really have it in me to be that negative about humanity as a whole. I like to think we're better.  I like to think a lot of things are better than they are, though....so there's that.

We all do it, it's a barrier free, equal opportunity offender.  But for me, for the most part, it happens when I get really excited about something. Or if I really did think of an idea that I want to share, I probably word it rudely, like that. I started this post truly referencing those that do it AS HABIT. They use "you should" the way I abuse "like," "seriously," and "grammar in general." They shall be called the Yooshooders.

You should put a different muzzle break on that.
You should attach your scope differently.
You should ask for different assignments at work.
You should do everything differently than doing it now.
You should train your dog better.  [F YOU, she tries!]   [oops, nevermind, knee jerk reaction]
You should put your fist in your mouth so can't speak clearly.

I strive to choose tolerance over confrontation.  I like to self reflect as a way to learn and grow.  I like to ask certain people about certain things, because THOSE are the people I trust, the opinions I value and understand. I also practice - purposely trying to improve by repetition - my patience, especially if I feel it's ...out of practice.

My family knows me best, obviously, especially my sister, but other than that, there's less than a handful of people, I'd say, that know me well enough to understand THIS about me:  I can't stand, and I mean, I probably HATE, naysayers. I just do. Yooshooders are Naysayers with specific opening sentences, but Naysayers, nonetheless.

That will never work.
WHY would you want to do that?
That is such a dumb idea.
It's probably going to rain.
It's never going to happen because whenever I want something, it doesn't happen.
The Lions suck. [YOU SUCK!]   [oops, nevermind, knee jerk reaction]

I hate negativity for the sake of being negative - why not just shut the f up and move along?  Clearly there are negative circumstances, things, and people - but after you've bitched about it once, does droning on and on and on and on about it really help?  I mean, does it help anyone at all? I don't think so.  Complaining once or twice? Clearly allowed and clearly normal.

This post, for example is negative - but THIS is a choice - you don't have to read.  We aren't in a conversation and if it's bugging you, you can (and SHOULD) read something else. I can vent as *loud* as I want, and have as many people enthralled in listening as I want. (That 2nd part is in my head.)

But the ONE thing - the one damn thing that I cannot stand so bad, it will literally change how I feel about you is INCESSANT ADDICTION TO NEGATIVITY. It affects everything! In my short, young life, I have noticed that people who are incessantly addicted to negativity have several things in common:

• Total and utter lack of awareness regarding their negativity.
• Narcissism - which will make some of my list sound redundant
• Big egos vs large self esteems
• They ALWAYS want you to agree, particularly when complaining. Always.
• Can you BELIEVE she did that???? Isn't that HORRIBLE??? That's horrible, am I right? I'm right, right? [You're really not asking, db]
• 100% committed to THEIR way
• And THIS is where things can go badly. When I am FED UP AND NOT IN THE MOOD - this characteristic is typically the straw that breaks the camel's back and sends me over the edge.
• Which means whatever knowitall told me what I should do probably got an earful.
• Or nothing - I prefer the silent treatment to non-family members.
• It's rarely even helpful. I almost always find myself thinking "no, that is what you want me to do, you didn't even ask me what I might prefer...."
• I ONLY tolerate this from ONE person. (I literally promised myself that, actually, a LONG time ago. And I get irritated. And I get annoyed. Once or twice I have gotten damn near pissed, but I will NEVER *go off* on only one person.) You're all thinking it's you, IT ISN'T.
• Other than that, I strive for patient, patient...patient....ok already...patient.....ALRIGHT I'VE HAD IT. STOP GIVING ME *ADVICE.* Don't assume you know what I'm thinking. Please stop telling me what I should do. Please stop telling me what I've done wrong. You know what? Nevermind, I just erased you from my mind.  YOU SHOULD do the same.

I used to think I wasn't a positive person because I complain a lot - but I am writing about a different type of complaining. I complain because I'm an asshole and yearn for lazy, especially when I don't want to do something. But I don't want to hate life, my family, my friends, my job - how do you LIVE if you have NOTHING good, nothing you LIKE?

And I GET IT - we have all been hit in various ways this year. EVERYONE I know was hit with something overwhelming, awful, hard, etc. And IT IS, YES, HARD.  Trust me, I GET IT. Work? Work has been tough - that's all I feel is appropriate. And I AM worried, absolutely - not about IF I'll have a job, but what the changes mean for me and my family. More specifically, my bills - but I truly won't know until January.  The not knowing is hard - but what is truly hard is HEARING about how awful it is, UNJUST even! Dude, it's business. We work for a corporation that needs to be profitable. Period. 

I love my work, I love my job - I don't want ANY of it to change.  But I can't control any of that, and I highly doubt the shareholders care about my feelings, either.  I don't take it personally. 

My kids put up my Christmas tree for me this year.  They could tell I was frustrated.  I love them so much. 

THAT did feel good.  I am done for the night.  I am not answering calls, voicemails, texts, facebook - NOTHING.  That way, I can control the mood around me without distractions beyond my control. I can concentrate on positive things, like my kids.  The boy ones, not the gun ones.  Although I love them all...

Just sayin'.

Only if you promise not to laugh....

Here are just SOME of the ways I can drive myself bat shit crazy.

[Disappointed pause, accompanied by standard long sigh, RIGHT HERE.]

Crap: I think when it comes to needs vs wants, my Gun Brain can literally talk that line right into extinction. Hands down, I can stand strong against your bullshit, but I downright design, manufacture, AND sell myself MY OWN BULLSHIT. *sigh* that sucks.....

[Already over it.]
I sometimes wonder why I find it OK to publish all the really stupid crap that I think/do/say, in painful detail, (see below) just because I find it hysterical? I never, ever stop to think that someone might actually think I'm stupid. [EVEN when I use than and then wrong, so there!]

I should, perhaps, take it into consideration one day and refrain more, just as I eventually learned restraint when it came to expressing my emotions. Perhaps, one day, I will realize NOT every single stupid thing you think/do/say needs to be shared.

Today is not that day. 

Stupid thought process #1:
Let's bring Bek with me ANYWHERE on Black Friday - yeah, I think my gun brain did that on purpose to mess with my budget brain.

Stupid thought process #2: 
"Hunh, that's weird, I know I had this set amount of *expendable income* - so why do I feel so bad and guilty about this? It isn't like I don't WORK for it. I am not an Ancient Egyptian, either, no one is going to make sure I take it with me....[that is pure Bump, that last one, RIGHT THERE, thanks Dad *sigh*]"

Stupid thought process #3:
"Hunh. Yep, right there: SOFA. That's what I was saving that for....Whooops."

Stupid thought processes, all of the above, continued:
Well that excel spread sheet sure helps out a lot - especially when you LOOK at it before you go shopping.

It literally feels like my Gun Brain did a sneak attack on my Budget Brain.
[That's right, it's not ME. It's portions of me that aren't under my control, thus I can place responsibility on THEM, which is basically: elsewhere, and not on ME, me.]

Darrrnnnn I spent my sofa money on a new gun.

I even had the damned dog cover for it and everything. And the big fuzzy throw from Pier1 that is oh-so-cozy.

They both look fine on my half eaten, very slumped, Gracie-ruined current sofa. 

"Thank you, gun brain, I have enjoyed the new gun. But was that reeeeallly a need over a piss-covered sofa in the living room of the house that everyone lives in?? Hunnnhhh? Gun Brain? What do you have to say for yourself?!"


"pew pew pew....pew pew"



Just sayin ~ DM

~ PS I love it when a post goes sideways.

Sisters and Nephews :) Thanksgiving 2015

Me and My Yahoos 2015

My Favorite:

Thank you Aunt Bek, for taking these beautiful pictures!

My Thanksgiving Break

And so much to be grateful for:

• My family - what a fun Thanksgiving.  Last year we did the Evolution of Dance. This year Bump declared was Alice's Restaurant. Oh yes, we did listen to the song every damn year while growing up - and for the most part I have kept the Guthrie tradition alive, KNOWING I'd be asked if I had turned it on. It was good times. 

• 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• My family - and I got to spend A LOT of time at the range - with my family - the best kind.  I think I may have overspent* (uhhh...I am so undecided whether to justify - because I can - or to accept failure but totally blame Bex....) on a 2nd AR-15 but it has already been so worth it.  The amount of conversation time I get to have with Emerson alone was worth twice the price.  I mean, the kid knows an incredible amount.  
• My family - I have the best kids, ever.  I seriously have the BEST kids.  I'm not even biased (ahem), I'm just lacking in better descriptive terms.  Not only do I have a shit ton of fun with them, but they do chores in exchange for the things they want, like WHEN I tell them to do it.  They express GRATITUDE on days like today, when all I wanted to do was be lazy, but Riley asked "for a ride to the skate park" - like it's 10 minutes away and I can just go get him when he's done. [Captain Obvious Declares: BEST doesn't equal PERFECT.]

• Of course, I would have taken him regardless, but it just so happened that I was given free range time - 5 half hours, specifically - and Emerson and I could do that while he was skating. 
• 
  
• And they were both like "Thanks Mom, you're the best." Sometimes when it's given so freely and honestly like that, it takes me by surprise.  They're clearly not perfect or gratitude wouldn't surprise me... but, you know what? I'll take it. 
• Emerson and I played Battleship today - yes, Battleship, AR Style: where you know where his ship is, you just have to precisely shoot 3 to 5 dime size shots to sink it. SO COOL. I won, but if Emerson continues to go with me, he will kick my ass in one magazine. (And had I realized how spot on I am with my scope, I wouldn't have started with 10 shots...) We also got to shoot as long as we wanted - I really like the guys at CQT.  If they weren't all 21ish, I'd ask one out.  They don't gather at the window watching me shoot anymore, either, (it's actually funny to remember them doing that just a few short weeks ago) now they all know my name, say hi and are used to me coming in and shooting alone.  I've shed my Unicorn status there, lol. 
• Seriously, I have a bunch of other good stuff to be grateful for: 
• my sister started her new business, our party was a success
• I have great coworkers who gave their support
• I had my yahoos the entire break and I didn't once get tired of them
• They spent a lot of time with their cousins
• We had FIVE boys here during the make up party and you wouldn't have known it AT ALL
• Bumpa rocked both Kira (Bear) and Melody (Baby), so frickin adorable!
• And I only moped and cried about being alone a little bit.
• It still feels like my heart has been sliced wide open with a jagged knife and left unattended to whither and ache from painful exposure - but only when I specifically think of Nate or it's after 9 pm and I can't stop specifically thinking of Nate. Trust me when I say that's progress.

* Not overspent on COST, I have been researching a bare-bones AR15 since the first one was complete. Than I asked around at all the stores if they were going to run Black Friday sales.  It wasn't really an accident that I ended up at CQT on Black Friday....anywho. Basically, I waited until the "bought assembled" price was as low as the "piece by piece" I would assemble and save myself a shit ton on shipping. 

The above reason is just ONE reason the AR is America's Rifle - when the options are limitless and the supplies are consistently available, it's no wonder the gun is addicting, quickly mastered and than expanded, accessorized, and virtually unrecognizable from the upper, lower, and barrel it once was.  I literally get the goose bumps thinking about it.  

And looking at the new one? OMG, all I see are POSSIBILITIES. It's crazy! Until I watch Emerson shoot it and think "naw, that's why I have that one - a simple, inexpensive one for THEM.  DO NOT pimp it out, DM*. Than you won't want them to shoot it. Why must you consistently convince yourself NOT to live up to your name? WHY?"

Just sayin ~ DM

*dufus maximus - No, I didn't choose it. The Walking Man did. I don't why HE gets to be a cool, romantic and mysterious name like The Walking Man and I get Dufus.  *eyeroll* It's so dumb. Yet, you same something enough times, it starts to BE. I do not hear dufus, obviously, I hear DM. 

That was for the newbies. 

This is NOT the Post I Started

I started a post called "In Which DM Agrees to a Date"

But I didn't finish - I found myself rambling on and on about shooting and research and statistics and the lack of women at the ranges and I ... stopped.

I do remember where I was going with it and how it was leading to me going shooting with a new guy, but the kids are home, and Abby is over, so I ran out of time to edit, shorten, get back on track and write a proper post.

I will try to do that ....Friday? *shrugs* 

What do you mean "What about Nate?" 
I DON'T FUCKING KNOW, that's what. 
I literally don't and I'm not waiting around to find out anymore. I WON'T be writing much about it either because I don't want harsh, hateful emotions published on this blog.  I don't want to spew off crap I may regret - because at the end of the day, you don't know what you don't know. 

INSTEAD, I am forcing fun on my family whether they like it or not:

I could look at this picture all night. :) I love him. 

Abby is SUCH a good shot, it's CRAZY. I love it! When she turned to me with that smile and I asked her "Do you love it?" "I do. I LOVE IT." I nearly cried. 

You're right, mom, indoor ranges are fun! I love being right him.

Yes. Every time. Every time I feel the need to take this picture.  Again: *shrugs*

He was too busy for pictures.  

"I really like that you can measure your accuracy, mom. This is sweet." 

If he is trying to tell me that shooting a stuffed dinosaur off the hill at the Pit doesn't award any certificates, he is oh-so-wrong.

Just sayin, DM.

Emerson's Favorite Moment

I was just about finished writing when I remembered this, and Emerson would be upset if I left it out. He was a little over-enthusiastic if you ask me.

By Thursday, I hadn't been shooting in 8 days.  Shut up, that's forever.  I broke down, called the indoor range, it was open until 9. Hot damn, I was up and packing.  I got everything in the trunk, went over the rules (more than once) said I'd be back in an hour and a half and left.

I got to the end of the driveway and had to reverse.  I ran in the house, Emerson called down to make sure I was ok.  And I said "Yeah, I'm fine, I just forgot my gun." I yanked the box of the counter and my yahoos were SPEED RACING down the steps.

Emmo: Wait, wait, wait!
Me: What? I got it, I'm going....
Emmo: No, wait. Hang on. [starts laughing uncontrollably]
Me: ...yes?
Emmo: So you LOADED UP, you got your car ready, you took your purse, you took your keys -
Me: I see where this is going and shut up -
Emmo: AND YOU ACTUALLY DROVE AWAY, FORGETTING YOUR GUN?! YOU'RE GOING TO THE RANGE, MOM! [laughter, more and more laughter]
Me: Are you done?
Emmo: Not even close! Mom, you're going to shoot your GUN and you took everything else but the actual GUN bwahahahahhahahah OMG mom, you're the best. I love it....

That is went I walked out, with my gun, that wasn't loaded, so there was no temptation to shoot him. I left, shut the door and could STILL hear those 2 assholes laughing at me.

Yep.  The house is chock full of assholes. Hands down, no arguing that.

the rest of my weekend.....
I cleaned, I scrubbed, I had numerous cleaning materials on hand, lists upon list.  I came home every single day and did chores all week, just to be ready for Bek's debut party.

The mud room looks amazing.  Other than paint, it is really only the 2nd room that I feel is *complete.*  The other is the downstairs bathroom.  I have been wanting to get the entryway of my house looking better, having more storage and actually look, oh, I don't know....presentable???

The party was a great excuse to do it finally. And I love it.  When I walk into the much warmer and homier mud room, it feels completely different. It's welcoming and cozy - exactly what I was going for.  I didn't destroy anything while installing the curtains, either.  Or getting the furniture in by myself. I am back to Lion, roaring away.

I also took the opportunity to have a somewhat relaxing weekend after winter fell in.  I enjoyed the clean, crispness of everything.  I even washed the moldings and floor boards of the rooms I completed. I WASHED the stairs (not that you can tell) and dusted my glass collection.  I love having a super clean place to relax in.

I never actually HAVE it except for when this shit happens: if the party hadn't been canceled, snow and dirt would have been trampled in. If the boys were home, I would have had 5.3 seconds of bliss before the boys' hurricane-like existence destroyed all sense of order.  So I had a rare chance to ADMIRE my work, and the sore arms from scrubbing didn't bother me much at all.

Nate continues to be a painful enigma. I am no longer telling anyone any updates, at all, until I KNOW for sure what the fuck goes through his head, what he is doing, why everything went to shit so quickly, why he'd want to come back if he was just going to disappear again....I'm actually worried about him. Not him and I - him.

On a completely unrelated note, I also have started to venture back into the indoor ranges - it was that or not shoot.  CQT in Shelby Twp is amazing - the guys there all know me, know that I am learning and trying to improve on my own.  They respect me, or at least treat me with respect and I like that. I appreciate other people's opinions, I do. WHEN ASKED.

But every experienced Gun Guy knows what is BETTER for me, what I should GET next, what I NEED, etc. Go away, I didn't ask, and you're being rude. I didn't walk over to YOU and say "hey that's a nice gun. But YOU NEED SOMETHING DIFFERENT. And trust me, I know everything, so I'm right."

Counting my blessings as this happens less and less. I am now meeting really cool people, really fun people.  I have met lots of people who treat me as an equal and say things like "I love seeing a girl on the range on her own.  More women should try it, it's a lot of fun, even if you don't hunt.  I wish my wife/gf/fiance would come with me!"  I've volunteered to meet them at the range if they do get their girl out - I would absolutely help recruit more women.  That's more women to shoot with, and that's more friends for me that I won't be tempted to date. 

That's a win-win, if you ask me.

I miss the yahoos, though.  I don't enjoy the quiet as much as I used to.  When Nate was here, the house was filled with activity whether or not the boys were home, and I enjoy that. I would trade my days and nights of solitude to have a big family enjoying life up here in Almont with me.  I miss the chaotic activity of the summer, it was the best summer of my life. It showed me that I DO want a family living here. This place deserves to be enjoyed by more than just us 3 and the dog.

I won't settle, though.  And if that never happens, it never happens. *shrugs* I don't have the energy to put myself *out there* any time soon - I wasn't looking for anything when Nate moved in to rent a room. It just happened.

It will most certainly just happen for me - I know this because God wouldn't have given me glimpses of that sort joy, happiness and peace with someone if he wasn't going to provide it for me.  I have that much faith.  The boys are 12 and 15 - plenty old enough for me to stay busy with their activities.  We have always thrived in the face of challenges - one of us will always say "we can do anything as long as it's us three."  And that is so true.

Emerald is encouraging me to be more social, even if I don't want to date - meeting people at the range and engaging them in real conversations is doing wonders for me.  It has been a minute since I had that huge circle of support with all of my AA friends in addition to my family.  When the shit hit the fan, EVERYONE had to rebuild.  I have written about the shock of that before - I didn't realize how much losing an immediate family member CHANGED EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE.

I think we are all currently in that process. In January, two years will have passed - it has taken that long for this family to breathe again and truly feel like we're heading in the right direction.  My sister clearly will always have the hardest time, and will always be the most affected - but until she started to *regroup* - it was like none of us could, either.  We spent a lot time with our breath held in, praying, crying, WANTING more, NEEDING her back.  That part was the hardest.  It's still a roller coaster for her, but I think she has steadily gotten on smaller and smaller ones.

I'd say I'm excited for what the future holds, but I know it includes snow, so I'm not that excited.

Just sayin, DM.

The Skies Opened, Winter Fell Out

Winter arrived in Almont sometime this morning before I woke up.  And continued to arrive when I closed my eyes again, remembering I could sleep in.  It kept coming at 1 when I went for gas, milk, food, and smokes, just in case. It was still arriving at 2 when I snapped these pictures. 

If it ever feels comfortable enough to stop ARRIVING and just BE, I'll update the pictures after I dig myself out. 

The back.

The car - AFTER being cleared once.

Somewhere in this vicinity exists my coveted side yard.

And that will be the bane of my existence while Winter feels the need to stay: my driveway.

Just sayin, DM.

This is How Bloggers Conversate

According to Dictionary.com, conversate IS a word.  Although if I type it, nearly every program feels the need to underline it and tell me *converse* is a better word. According to ???

Yeah, that's what I thought. Shut up. Not you - them or *they* rather. The infamous *they* who know and say everything. (My double-finger to life moment of the day, right there.)

TWM left a comment last night that will make the top ten one day if I ever stop to rank my favorite commentary.  Sometimes I get so bogged down with *life,* I need to be reminded of how amazing I am. It never gets old, either. 

[Red is not me.] 

[Red is the new black.]

*I did not change anything in the copy and paste - but I did leave some parts out. Just an FYI, the full comment is under last night's post. 

Look darlin' writing anything at all is not a goal, it is just something some people do, Bukowski says if you're struggling with it back away slowly from the keyboard and don't do it.
Bukowski must write for different reasons. I write as a therapeutic exercise to clear my head.  When I avoid it for too long, I develop writer's block from
1. not knowing which topic to pick
2. being overwhelmed at the blankness of an empty, white screen, and
3. laziness.
Making it a goal is a form of self-discipline for me - if I force it for awhile, it flows naturally again.  It's always been like that, but as the yahoos get older, my career gets busier, and my hobbies more interesting and more all-consuming - I NEED the therapy even when I want to avoid it.

Myself I am always compelled to write, but I have cut way back on thee doing of it because in my world which is one of a large worldview I am having a hard time wrapping my head around everything that is going on, more than just Paris, but the entire world, that I find it hard to write simply and concisely in poetry what I am feeling. 
I totally understand - I just tend to have a much, much smaller worldview, extremely egocentric, [that is not typed with pride] because I get beyond flustered and frustrated when I start to contemplate larger, ACTUAL world views. The solution seemed obvious.
.

.

.

Finally, Nate is an enigma to us beyond knowing you two were hanging in there and then you weren't--I dunno, it seemed like a good fit because you didn't discuss the relationship on either blog. Maybe that is the sort of thing you should keep 100% up there in corn country without having anyone's opinion or feelings on it other than what you two feel and think.
Yes, enigma is an excellent word.  And yes, the lack of publicity was intentional. I like it like this - it leaves less room for regret.

I am assured that once again you will muddle your way through, you will fall and get up, walk a bit and trip on your own big feet again but one of the things I HIGHLY respect about someone named DM is that you don't fear the getting up part and continuing on. What's it been now, I first checked in with you just prior to dh and you disentangling yourselves legally, what was that five years or so?
I have been divorced for 6.5 years now (crazy, eh?) and we blog met over 2 years before that - I once looked. You were my first real blogging/writing/sober pal - which makes you the oldest. [Hahahaha, oh in so many ways, too.]

My feet are NOT big.

I will most definitely trip. I may not fear the getting up part, but I do hate it. So there's that. I just keep doing it because I didn't know there were options. Are there? 

And I am not interested in any that will make my family drag my ass back to rehab. 

You have fucked up some in that time, [totally] you were fucked over some in that time, [totally] you laughed at some of it, you cried over some of it, but you never stopped going ahead--moving forward. I expect that you will never lose that admirable quality. 
Aw. Just aw. I hope not.

If you EVER need to know you are totally and fully accepted and loved, you just think on me, a flawed character who simply has come to love you as you were, are and will be. I don't know why the most easily lovable people are always the last ones to know how well and truly they are loved by so many.
As I mentioned earlier - sometimes I just need to hear that. And randomly is the best way.  Thank you Mark for always having faith in me, always laughing at me, and always taking Bump's side.  You're the best writing dad a girl could ask for. [awwwww, lol]

Speaking of parents - another great one is my mom.  Sometimes I forget that actually talking is helpful, too - especially in the areas that I don't want to write about. I try to group errands so that trips to the city (I LOVE SAYING THAT, btw) are more productive. So I texted my mom and asked if I could stop in for a little bit before I went shopping for curtains. 

I talked so long, I did not get a chance to go shopping before the yahoos were all like "hey ma, are you done working yet? Rie and I are ready." But I'll take a good heart to heart with one of my parents (even my honorary ones) over a crowded big box store ANY DAY OF THE WEEK.  

Slight tangent - it comes back around, I swear:
I was at dh's last night, having a much-needed and ever-painful meeting with our eldest about his grades. I hate doing that - it's just a very painful part parenting for me, two hours painful. I want so much for him. I hate that he struggles more than I hate ANYTHING else on the planet.  

I played with the baby. Dh, Stef and I joked around with the boys. We caught up with each other's lives. Stef and I picked on dh.  Dh and I talked about guns.  We all have a lot of gratitude for our relationship.

We're that rare couple who likes each other better divorced - and work together better, divorced, too. But it never ceases to amaze me, when I think about it after the fact: I can curl up on their sofa with Stef on the other end, and we can chat for hours.  I think I'm pretty awesome for being a part of this progressively close knit clan of Doyle weirdos - I really do.  [Sometimes I feel all martyr-ish, too, but I know that part is pure bullshit.] I got incredibly lucky when dh chose a really good person to marry/step-parent my boys. It takes the maturity, openness, ability and vulnerability of EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US to maintain that trust.  It would never, I mean NEVER be possible to have this unique family if dh had married an idiot.  I mean, it's not like we're taking vacations together or anything - but to feel like we're all on one team? 

Indeed, I have gratitude beyond words that dh didn't marry some bitch who was impossible to work with. Let alone enjoy and respect. Stef is actually pretty amazing and it turns out, it matters: I respect the third parenting opinion we've always had and used as our tie break. And that says it all. 

This is Stef's first holiday without her mom, who passed away just a few short months ago.  My heart aches for her.  It makes me want to enjoy my parents while we are all here together. Thanks, MOM.  I needed that, and it was nice to have a little one on one time. I forgot how much I talked while I did your nails. 

Just sayin, DM


[NO, converting is NOT a better option.]