Lost in Hindman

I’m a little OCD about my hair.  If it’s something small like my bangs being too long-I can fix that.  If it’s a fundamental structure issue like that I can tell one side is longer than the other, I want to get that fixed by a professional.  I’ve been trying different stylists since I got home (because I hadn’t found THE ONE) so when I heard that Trent- a friend from high school was reopening his hair salon, I decided to wait till he was open and give him a try… I patiently waited a couple of weeks and set an appointment for yesterday.  I was so excited; not only was I getting my hair cut I was going to get to see a friend I hadn’t seen in years.

 I got up and left the house a little early-to give myself time to find his shop.  I got into downtown Hindman-drove up Main St. (which takes about 3 minutes) and didn’t see the shop.  I drove down Main St. and still didn’t see the shop.  I was about to freak out when I saw Stacy, Trent’s wife and kids walking through downtown.  I parked my car and ran/shuffled (1. I don’t run and 2. I was wearing flip flops) to meet up with her.  I got to where she was and I was all “OMG Stacy! Where is the shop- I’m so late!”  Stacy-looking a little shell shocked- told me how to get there… She started with “Do you know where ______ used to be?”  Of course I didn’t… After quickly getting directions (thanks Stacy-sorry about the shell shock,) I left Stacy and ran back to my car.
Back on the road, I headed toward the OTHER part of Main St. again looking for the shop on both sides of the street-I got all the way to Leburn-about 5 minutes then turned around and since I hadn’t thought to take Trent’s number with me, I called home.  It was early enough that Mom and Joe weren’t out of bed yet.  I had to call three times before I got a person.  While I parked the car in front of two simple trailers, Mom woke Joe; he looked up the number.  While he was doing that, I looked around and saw it… the number! Then I saw the sign-THE CUTTING EDGE right there.  I had parked in front of the shop by accident.  I said something pithy like son of a B**** I was 17 minutes late.

I rushed in and told the epic tale of finding The Cutting Edge.  We laughed.  Trent cut my hair; it looked great and then I went to spend my day cataloging books at the library.  Later, when I met up with Mom and Joe for Chinese food and grocery shopping Joe said “How did you get lost in Hindman? …That should be your blog name.”

Just so you know… I did not get lost in Hindman.  I knew exactly where I was-I just didn’t know where I was supposed to be going-kind of like my life. 

Keep an eye out for my new blog of book reviews to be announced later. 
Edit- Here's the review site: http://bookreviewsfromnowhere.blogspot.com/
first review should be on there tonight.

Comfortable is not always better

You all know about my mom’s taste in television and how I’m trying to influence her to not spend as much time with the Hallmark Movie Channel… the thing is, she is like this with everything.  She finds something she likes and gets too comfortable to change it.  She tends to stick with stuff long after she should have gotten rid of them.  Right now, her car is a yellow Nissan Xterra.  Her last car? Yellow Nissan Xterra. 

She watches and re-watches the Hallmark movies and Murder She Wrote episodes.  I’ve been working on introducing her to other television shows: We watched Sherlock, Warehouse 13, Firefly and next I was thinking about Monk, Merlin or maybe Doctor Who.

Mom used to work for a second-hand store that was run by Hospice.  She would always be bringing stuff home.  Some was just AWESOME like the pair of Eric Cartman slippers she brought me-they said “screw you guys” and “I’m going home” on the backs of the heels.  She also brought home lots of dishes and clothes for herself.  Mom is a bit of a pack-rat-I can’t say anything because I am too… we’ve been nagging her for years to go through her dishes and clothes and get rid of the stuff she doesn’t use or wear.

My siblings (mostly my sister) and I have been bugging her about her wardrobe for years.  For the longest time she didn’t have any jeans and mostly wore wind suits-those shiny “track suits” with sequins and other shiny bits that were popular with older rich women in the 00s.  When they were no longer popular, people started donating them to Mom’s work and she brought them home… all of them.  She had at least a dozen.  We’ve been fighting the wind suits since she started bringing them home- I think they look tacky, but of course I’m more of a jeans kind of girl.

She also never bought new clothes for herself.  Last year, for my cousin Amy’s wedding I bullied my mom into going to Cold Water Creek.  I then badgered her until she tried on clothes and found two family wedding trip appropriate outfits… the pants are a lovely taupe and can go with everything.  I have also talked her into buying new shirts at other places too.  And to top all that off, my sister-in-law who has really good taste gave mom bags of beautiful clothes she can’t wear anymore (she lost a bunch of weight-go girl!)  So now, Mom has all these clothes and had to make room for them all. Today mom brought a bag out of her room and asked me to put it out in the garbage can-it was full of wind suits.  I am so proud that I had to write about it.

June is a Terrible Month.

For the last several years, June has been a notoriously bad month for me.  Let me go back to the beginning. 

I was living in Louisville as a college dropout.  A friend and I were sharing a crappy one-bedroom walk-up on Taylor Blvd.  She got the bedroom because “It [was her] apartment” she was just letting me live there. It was true, her name was on the lease, but I paid half the rent.   I worked about 4 blocks away at a little gas station (where I got held-twice-jerks.)

I was 21, and like I said the other day, had the bottom half of my head shaved; I would pull the rest- dyed black-back into a barrette at my crown, of course.  I wore lot of black-basically I was Goth before it was called Goth- funky jewelry, makeup and all. 

I drove the afore mentioned 1979 AMC Spirit-I loved that car.  Went to Rocky Horror-in costume, drank gallons of coffee nightly with friends at Denny’s, played Magic The Gathering and hung out with friends a lot.  I basically lived a carefree existence-no longer a child but not quite an adult.  Then…

In the beginning of June 1994, my Dad died unexpectedly-it had to do with a heart problem that they found when he was in High School-doesn’t matter.  I was caught complete off guard, because quite honestly with Mom being a Brittle Diabetic, I always expected her to pass first (soo many health problems.)

My beloved AMC Spirit had died and I had no way to get home.  My friend Lori (hi Lori) came home from college to make sure I was okay and take me to my brother’s in Lexington so I could ride the rest of the way with him.  The rest of my family members who passed in June of various years were all elderly.  That’s not to say that they were expected, but they were less of a shock.  

I was a mess for the first year… sullen, sarcastic and bitchy- like I am now but far less fun because I cried a lot.  Dad looked like Santa Clause, so the Christmas in July commercials broke my heart.  The first Christmas without him was hard-we sat arround drinking and "decorating" the tree.  The lights and garland stayed bundled and were tossed into the branches and an empty can served as tree topper.  We laughed and cried and we got through it.

I moved back to live with Mom to finish teaching her and my sister how to drive-it’s hard to get anywhere here without driving.  I took classes at the local Community College, because I knew he wanted me to and because I wanted it.  Then after that year I went away to college at Berea then on to Lexington for more schooling. 

Each year day-by-day I would get a little better till out of nowhere, I would be reminded and have a mini breakdown; I remember being in the Design studio at Berea waiting for class to start while one of my friends told me something his Dad said or did that upset him.  I reminded him that he should appreciate his Dad while he had him and that he was just doing his job. Then the tears welled and I couldn’t push them back.  It’s the moments when I’m not expecting it that I get the sucker punch to the gut.  Most of the time I’m fine and can talk about him and tell stories, but I don’t talk about him being dead-it makes me cry. (Don’t worry and rush to call me-by the time you read this I’ll be back to fine.) 

So, there the grief is, lurking behind the everyday, just waiting for its turn to ride the Merry-go-round.  I always expect that grief to make its appearance during the first of June and hang out for a week.  Well, that didn’t happen this year.  I was going through the motions of the everyday when I realized it was half way through June and didn’t have my usual “OMG! It’s June!” moment. I didn't prepare for the depression and crying, get extra tissues, chocolate and anything else I might need.

After realizing that I had forgotten to wait for the sadness to overcome me, I was filled with guilt.  I know I shouldn’t.  I should be living my life and enjoying what I have, but I can’t help it.  Inside I’m a very sensitive person so I feel deeply. 

It has been 18 years and more than a week, and I think I might be getting past this grief-next I get to work on the guilt for not feeling the grief as much. 

Gum and THE TALK

Sorry it’s been so long.  I’ve been doing other things that I should write about: camping with friends, mini road trip with Mom, working.  But I feel the need to write about something completely frivolous: bubble gum.

Lately I’ve had a craving for bubble gum.  I’m not talking about chewing gum like Orbits or Extra, I mean good old fashioned loaded with sugar-lose the flavor in 15 minutes bubble gum like Hubba Bubba or Bubbalicious.  I’ve been thinking about that full mouth chomping, stretching with your tongue stuff made for the big bubble.

I have been thinking about it for a few weeks now… remembering what it was like...  I don’t know what made me think of it to begin with-but every couple of days I would think about bubble gum.  Today I happened to think about it while I was in a store that had some.  I bought a pack and popped a square then went to finish the grocery shopping. 

I wandered through the store chomping and blowing bubbles… It reminded me of my childhood.  Buying a pack and sharing with friends or hording it all for myself.   Summers riding around on my bike till the streetlights came on.  Not to mention getting in trouble for chewing gum in school.  The innocence of youth came flooding back to me all because of a square of gum.  Hubba Bubba was my favorite-it had the two colors like pink and green (Watermelon) that usually mixed to make grey or brown.  During High School my favorite switched to Juicy Fruit.

At some point in the last couple of weeks, I realized that I don’t really see much of that kind of gum in stores anymore.  I haven’t really been looking.   Maybe it has to do with missing the carefree joys of youth or it could just be wanting to blow bubbles and make my jaw ache tomorrow.

This next part is completely unrelated except that it is another thing I've been thinking about lately. 

The Talk-  Many of you that know me understand that I am a very reserved person until I get to know you and feel comfortable showing my true self: open, smart-assed, funny, tactful, sarcastic and considerate.  My reservedness often prevents me from forming romantic relationships.  Because of this, over time people have felt the need to have "The Talk" with me.  Most of them go something like this: Them "You know, if you are gay, we're okay with it." Me "I appreciate that, but I'm not gay."

The first time I was not expecting it at all.  A friend came at me with "Don't you think it's time you came out of the closet? I mean, we all know you're gay." from out of the blue.  I was shocked... At the time I had no idea anyone might think that... I mean sure, I wore flannel , shaved half my head and wore a lot of black- but it was the 90s.

My favorite of all time was with my sister.  We were in my car on the way to the baptism of my brother's kids.  I'm going to paraphrase a little because I apparently used some crude language.

Sister "Alita, you know we love you and want you to be happy."

Me "Um, yeah, I know and love you too"

Sister "It's been a while since you've had a relationship.  Have you considered trying women?"

Me -WTH- "I have considered.  And while I think I'd be good at it, I'm really not that interested in trying it, besides I like men (that is the part where I got crude)." 

Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of homosexual friends and can completely understand being attracted to another woman, or man if you're a man.  There are several women out there that I think are very attractive-I even have a little crush on Queen Latifa because she's just that awesome-but that does not mean that I wanna get with her.  Yes, it has been a while since I had anything go further than a 2nd date.  But I am just not that interested in being with a guy just for the sex. 

That said, I could come visit, we could drink too much and I might let things get out of hand.