shishnit.org

His music is soothing, calming, beautiful….melodic.  Well written. I wish I had written these lyrics.

“And the hurt that made you humble wanna write about

Is the love that made you crumble from the inside out” -rich price  

The other day I called my ex-husband just to tell him something.  It wasn’t about my son. It was something that I wanted probably to boast about.  His response was cheerful and he was happy for me.  I wish I could lie and say it didn’t matter, but it did.  It mattered and it was ok.  It was like opening a yearbook and remembering …finally…something good.

And I turned my car around that bend 

One moment made me release the pain amen 

Instead of seeing hell in the rearview mirror 

I saw the future, bright and beautiful again 

I put my foot on the pedal 

And pushed down swift 

I turned my gaze from the past 

And I moved on, seemingly quick 

Acceptance that it’s ok 

For me to carry a piece on and on 

It’s not necessary 

to cut off, and ok that something’s gone 

Independence tattooed her name 

Deep on my soul 

Trepidation left me speechless 

But now I am whole 

Mike was my first real boss.
Mike changed my musical tastes at an early age.
Mike was my first mentor.
Mike and I have kept in touch for 17 years.
Mike is married and lives in J-town with his wife.
Mike and I peeled a lot of stickers together.
Mike does not answer email fast.

From: Kristy
Sent: Tuesday, February 26, 2008 10:31 AM
To: ‘Mike’
Subject: I got a garbage brain it’s driving me insane…

Mike,

I bought an old crusty record copy of The Cramps, Bad Music for Bad People a few weeks ago at a hot ratty thrift shop in Tampa. I swear the minute the needle fell on that record I remembered being 19 and every problem in the world was mine. I sat there listening to it remembering the dirty old carpeting at the National Record Mart and sorting all those cassettes, and peeing while staring at a big stupid cock bird. I’ve had better jobs for sure since then. I currently love my “want to come to college?” job. But something about sitting down in the dark listening to that old record….reminded me that once upon a time work was something far different than it is now. Perhaps because I had nothing to lose because I made barely anything. I remember some really sad paychecks. But it’s always a good thing to remember you weren’t always so old or so smart.

I met two boyfriends and a bad first husband in that joint. That Cramps record is still weird.

Without NRM there would be no child in my life….go figure.

Hope you are staying warm. Are you still working? I got your Christmas card…thanks!

Kristy

thanks for teaching me how to appreciate some whacked music.

From: Mike
Sent: Monday, March 17, 2008 11:03 PM
To: Kristy
Subject: Re: I got a garbage brain it’s driving me insane…

K

Bad people listen to bad music! That was a good record. Ahhh..those were the days. it’s quite funny that you sent the e-mail about NRM. By coincidence NRM played a role in my life this past week. How can this be you ask! Well…I broke my big toe opening that fucking safe, you know the one that Rose stocked all the nickels and dimes in… I was in a hurry, and did a deep knee bend on both legs, bending my toes, and broke one of them.. Well after all these years I decided to have it repaired, and now I’m spending a week in bed after the surgery. No way could I have taken the time back then to have it done! Who would peel stickers? Who would run the sweeper that did nothing more than blow dust and dirt all over everything? Who would help the customer find a Motorhead cassette tape? Who would find the best available seat for a concert? Who would get the dimes out of the safe for Rose? Need I say more?

M

Lately I’ve felt very strong.  I’ve felt like I’ve truly overcome things. I find that I have been doubting myself because I’m currently working on something I’ve been hush hush about but a few of you (my only 2 readers…lol) seem to be onto me.  I never thought I could do this process myself and yet here I am doing it.  Entirely on my own, with tidbits of input from Rick.  But truly, I am doing it alone.  I am proud of myself and I realize at long last I am a different person.  I am confident, independent and strong.  So much stronger.  I haven’t talked about it, as in out and out because I don’t want to jinx myself and I want to rejoice at the finish line.  And honestly, it all comes down to hard work and belief in oneself.  I am still crossing fingers and I’m reserved and detached.  I’m nervous and jittery and yet, I am in the process and it’s exciting, rewarding and I am so fucking proud of myself I could scream.  It’s not a miracle or a magic trick.  Strength is something you have to plant, water and wait patiently to grow within oneself.

I’ve got this habit I’ve got to kick
Medicine I need just starts to make me sick
Shoulders I lean on start to be a crutch
Babe I think I needed you a little much
But I’m getting stronger, stronger, stronger
I get just a little bit stronger every day
I’m getting stronger, stronger, stronger
I get just a little bit stronger every day

You showed me the ropes but there were these strings
Tied around my hopes unraveling
So I took the loose ends and I made a vest
To cover up this precious thing inside my chest
And I’m getting stronger, stronger, stronger
I’m getting just a little bit stronger every day
I’m getting stronger, stronger, stronger
I’m getting just a little bit stronger every day
And the hole I never thought would fill
Started to spill

I’m getting stronger, stronger, stronger
I get just a little bit stronger every day
I’m getting stronger, stronger, stronger
I get stronger the further you are away
I had this problem but I’ve got it licked
I learned to tell the difference between a miracle and a magic trick 

Darden Smith 

Today is March 7^th and it’s the first time I’ve thought to write anything in my blog.  Things have been crazy lately and my stress levels are through the roof.  I used to rely on writing about all of it to get through it.  I’ve now found some sort of coping mechanism that allows me to skip the writing it out part.  I don’t know if that allows me to work through the issues I’m currently coping with the same way, but I think this has come about because I am in school and am not afforded the same abundance of time that I used to once have.  I hang onto my blog because I have some innate fear that as soon as I let go, I will desperately be seeking writing solace. 

I’m at work and some of my software systems have tanked and/or are running slow so I’m not the normal Marketing Analyst that I would be because I can’t compare digits if I can’t get the numbers to start with.  It blows.  I’m used to being so organized about how I run my day and now here I am aggravated because I can’t move forward with my day as per normal.Things at home are trying, stressful and trying.  I have always avoided trashing my marriage in times of grief and marital strife.  I used to do it all the time without a thought with my ex-husband but I just can’t bring myself to do it now, even though it would temporarily feel good sometimes.  Rick barely glances at my blog, but for some unexplainable reason I feel protective of this marriage.  I honor it when I didn’t the last.  Go figure.

The other night I went to the bookstore and was reading through a fiction novel and came across this… “It’s the only explanation.  She played you like a fish.  I’m sorry, honey, but the fact is we sometimes fall in love with unsuitable people. Which is why Cupid carries a bow and arrows and not a clipboard with a stack of personality tests.”  “The Book of Air and Shadows (page 155) – Michael Gruber.I read that passage while flipping through the book and was so taken with it that I bought the book based on those few lines.  It is when a book touches you and makes you realize something without trying, that reading is truly a wonderful thing.  I am reading the rest of it right now.  Quite good so far.  Along the lines of Divinci Code minus religion and instead with a large dose of booklover types of details.
 

trouble comes to our house
every other week
first you and then me
with a tear on our cheek
over and over the same mistakes
how many last straws till it breaks
oh, we make love so hard
we make love so hard 

scratching at the old wounds
laying blame
calling up the old ghosts
taking names
over and over same mistakes
how many close calls can we shake 

oh, we make love so hard
oh, we make love so hard 

it doesn’t have to be this way
we’ve seen better days 

oh, we make love so hard
oh, we make love so hard
oh, we make love so hard
why do we make love so hard 

-Darden Smith