Butterfly Poop & Splat!

Bless my heart all over the house, I have totally neglected my personal blog for way too long! Don't worry, this shouldn't be a very lengthy post. (I always say that.) I do apologize for depriving the internet of my detailed rants and endless sarcasm for over a year. I was so caught up in life, I forgot to take a step back and laugh at it. A waste of a good year worth cracking on. Let me explain. Never mind. Too much. Let me sum up. I had my novel published. Becoming a writer is not for the impatient. Well, it is, but now I understand why most of the greats were bitter drunks. Writers create their own worlds in their own time. When you want to share your world of written words, your time doesn't matter. Wait and rush becomes the rinse and repeat of your life. Your editor will crush your soul and you will love them for it because in the end, you look better than you ever would alone. Publishers will have a totally different idea for the outcome of your book but you deal with it, because, well, publishers can be scary and you want your book published. In the end, you get to show off your blood and tears in ebook and trade paperback. You also get to laugh when your four year old kid talks about their favorite author and it is a writer you met on your journey, not you. I fell in love. Yep. Mean ol' me. I went all out for a full blown literary fairy tale. I walked on air, visited cloud nine, hummed and even had butterflies and birds landing on me I was so in love. Yeah. It was sickening. Do butterflies poop? It may be more sickening than I originally estimated. No, but really, it was great. I never allowed my walls down so much. I never trusted so much. I never jumped. Now I have. I was ready for forever. I prayed over it. I swooned. I fell and he promised to catch me- so yeah, I sold most everything I owned and signed a lease across the country and let my kids fall in love with someone as much as I did. It was perfect. I moved. Nope. Not cross country. I said I jumped. I never was spry. I totally fell on my ass with the fairy tale. I am still licking my wounds. Like when someone goes to pull a tablecloth from a full table and you wait for the great magician, but all you get is a bunch of silver and china crashing to the floor. BUT- I do have my own place. It is small and country but it is mine. I do what I want, when I want, how I want....as much as my three kids allow. Okay, so I do what I have to, when I have to, how I have to but don't ruin the illusion of grown up freedom. I am standing on my own two feet, alone. And speaking of feet, when I say standing, I mean that more as an image, not a fact. During my big jump and splat, I got sick. Lots of things on me just began not functioning properly. It progressed quickly and, now, on my second neurologist, I get lots of tests, even a spinal tap to see what is wrong with me. (Like my mother hasn't been trying to figure that out for years. Haha.) I get these shakes, fully body sometimes, just an arm or a leg other times. I started out with numb lips and now my entire body has followed so sometimes, I fall, not in love, just for the hell of it, I guess. It can be entertaining. I laugh. I am sure I look like a donkey on ice skates, numb and shaking and spinning, trying not to fall- but again, splat. I was told with a bit more swagger, I could pull of the numbness and shaking like a pimp walk. I need a fur coat...maybe purple. I swore I would not endorse 2013 with the lack of Dick Clark counting down my final moments, but obviously, the world did not jump on my bandwagon. I was honestly happy to see the end of the year just to stop staring at Fergie and that big dookie ball bun on her head and that metallic dress from a 1986 thrift store. Yeah, I rock my yoga pants and writer sweater most all year, but still, that is better than what is going to go down in history as the Rockin' New Year fashion. Poor Fergie-Ferg. Overall, it may not sound like it, but 2012 was truly one of the best years of my life. I chased dreams. Dreams came true. New plans formed, fell apart, and reformed. I don't really think I have a life plan anymore. Just to live it. Not to live through it, but to be alive. 2012 gave me a lot of that and I want more. Splats and all.