Thursday, April 28, 2011

everybody always trying all the time

i have been thinking too much and not writing enough. and this is dangerous for me. because there is nothing harder than getting out of my head. except a court summons. or bad debt.

here are some things i know:
1. if i start crying, it might last for days. just like my best friend said. so i won't. not yet.
2. i can have one more beer. tonight.
3. i am not getting the message. i am trying too hard. what am i missing? i am missing something.
4. two things i think to myself that inevitably bring more trouble: i can do this, see? i am doing it. AND i really, physically, cannot deal with one more thing. i can't do this.
5. i need to take care of myself so i can "do" everything. this includes sleeping more, being kinder, letting go of guilt, and maybe even a business trip to Texas. i know. the sacrilege.
6. i have been blessed by being surrounded by some of the BEST people on the earth. and as such, i also have to accept that i have been blessed by being surrounded by some of the most troubled.

so this happened:
The Teenager and i do most things together. we talk about lots of stuff. we are close. i am not a great disciplinary. i give too much wiggle room according to most people. but it works. and then, all of a sudden, it doesn't.

tonight there was a dance. a dance that The Teenager really wanted to go to. i can tell because she hasn't had one tardy all term. and she spent three hours getting ready. and she's been really excited about it. so i drove home from the city as fast as my two flat and two normal tires would take me to take pictures, drive her there, and all that stuff. and then i mentioned that i would be at volleyball.

"then i'm not going."


"i'm not going to the dance."


"it's embarrassing."

what? really?

"yeah. you playing volleyball? in the same building. i won't go."

okay. i'll call this bluff.

this wasn't a bluff.

she sat home on the couch. tears streaming down both cheeks, in her obviously well-thought-out attire, hair done perfectly, makeup immaculate. and would not go to that dance no matter what. and i left. it killed me. i fought myself. i wanted to go in and say, go go go go to the damn dance, i won't go to my volleyball game if it's that big of a deal. but how can i? what? who? not my child. i don't even know what to do.

but she sat. and i went. and i don't even know how to navigate this. all this stuff. but i know that if you aren't raised with a certain pride, love, and respect for your family ... you are screwed. family is all you got. whether it's blood or not. family. i don't know. i'm devastated. it tore me apart. it made me physically sick.

and really, it's a small problem in the big scheme of things.

today, in 14 hours, i spent only 2 with my girls. total. i was working and whatever whatever. but it threw me off.

here it comes, that heavy love...

i need to sleep more. i need to think less. i believe i may need to go camping. when one day at a time doesn't work, i will take it hour by hour. if i can't do it, i should say "no." slow down, you're moving too fast ...

i am going to sleep. i am going to breathe. i am going to say my prayers. i am going to be strong. i am going to be grateful. i am going to let go of whatever is attracting more trouble. i am going to love unconditionally. i am going to accept defeat. i am going to keep trying. even though every ounce of my being wants to stop. what am i doing? how do i know what to do? i am going to realize that my energy is better spent on me than convincing the homeless man at McDonald's that his transparency was obvious and i wasn't falling for his tricks. and i need to be okay with my pancake butt because the 18-year-old girls with long, skinny legs at volleyball weren't sent there to torment me, and i am double their age. oh my God, i think i am dying. double.

everything is not okay. and it never will be. being unbalanced is the only way i do things, i guess? trying to balance only makes me fall. tomorrow there will be answers. the sun will come up. and everything will be in perfect disarray.

Monday, April 18, 2011

30 Things: Days 18 & 19

18. plans/dreams/goals you have
19. nicknames you have and why you have them

I think I saw you walking in the city,
Hips like boy's,
The sun fell behind you and never stood up.
My head plays it over and over.
I think I heard you singing,
'Oh poor sky, don't cry on me
Did somebody break your heart again?
Oh poor sky, don't cry on me
Are you gonna fall apart again?'
My head plays it over and over.

Plans. Dreams. Goals.
Plans. I don't have plans. Because plans get ruined or canceled. I prefer to say I have an idea and a direction, with no real plan to get there, other than to get there.

Dreams. I have dreams. No matter how bad things are; no matter how good things are... I have dreams. And lots of them. I dream of finding the perfect words to say at the perfect time. I dream of both my girls being happy in life; of them being as big a part of my life forever as they are today. I dream about love. I dream about Mexico. I dream about my grandpa. I dream about the day I can be happy without feeling guilty about it. I dream about moving out of Utah. I dream about the day I look back and think, ah, so that is what it was all for.

Goals. My goals change a lot. I once had a goal to be a lawyer. I then had a goal to be a psychologist. Then an accountant. Then a marketing executive. Eventually, my goal was just to graduate from college. I guess my goals depend on where I am at in life. Right now, my goal is to get through each day gracefully. One day at a time.

And of course I have one goal that supersedes all others ... and that is to be a good mother. To always, always, always put my girls first. To do whatever it takes to provide for them; to let them know I love them. To appreciate them everyday. To make them laugh. To teach them how to make good decisions. To take care of them when they are sick. To figure out how to pay for their first cars, college, and weddings. To be at volleyball games, softball games, dance competitions ... to be there. No matter when or where. Every time they need me.

Oh yeah, and I also have these goals:
- Take Chloe to Italy
- See Garth Brooks live
- Meet Dr. Phil
- Make all my nieces and nephew scrapbooks
- Have a shot of bubble gum vodka with Karma
- Write a letter to someone every week ... and mail it ... old school ... handwritten
- Repair my credit
- Live in a place one day that my girls call "home"

Huh. Maybe I have more goals than I thought.

And I for sure have more nicknames than I want. Hello Day 19, thanks for bunking with Day 18.

Nicknames & Meanings
Curly (my dad)
Carlotta (my dad, my mom)
Car (my siblings and friends)
Fetha or Gramboo (bff)
Muscles (my teammates, don't even fucking say it...)
CashB (my friend Armen is creative)
Carlicious (friend, boyfriend, it's cute)
Carl (my brother started this ... because I look like a man)
Sharon (my drunk alter ego who used to cause A LOT of problems, wear scarves, and destroy things)
Roberta (the phlegm-throat cat lady who lives under the delusion that she had a romance with her sister's husband; also has a special lady friend named Lancaster who also likes to clear her throat)
Crotch, Foxy P. Intoxy (Crotch Club)
Carlsberg (like the beer?)

Riveting ... I know.
And that's a wrap.

Friday, April 15, 2011

random t h o u g h t s tonight

i am IN LOVE with the show Due Date and am wondering if anyone else:

a) loves it, too
b) thinks it's the Planes, Trains, & Automobiles of our generation
c) also wants Zack Galifianakis to be part of their family*
d) thinks the movie has one of the most apropos soundtracks ever made


i can see heaven in my baby's big blue eyes. when she stares into mine, i wonder what she sees.


forgiveness. it's a tough one. my girls and i went and visited my dad this week. so, so, so, so, so many things i feel. just, too much to even write about. but it occurred to me, as i watched him from my window scratching "2011 CARLY CHLOE LUCY" on the beach in GIGANTIC letters, that my dad is the only living man that loves all three of us in that way. in the way he does. as a father and a grandfather. no one else in my life has that kind of love for ALL of us girls. i am pretty sure it's similar to the way i love my girls. and, well, it's getting deep in here. anyway. it was nice to see my dad and spend time with him. but i cannot describe what it felt like watching him love my girls. both of them. genuinely. more than life itself. naturally. it's an unbelievable feeling. and he does love them. and judging by this picture, i think someone else fell in love, too.


blogs, facebook, twitter ... all this social-fucking-flaunt-your-perfect-pretend-life-media. it's not real. it's turning us into a culture where "keeping up with the jones'" is no longer about who has the nicest boat or car. it's now "keeping up with a million, perfect, airbrushed, successful, entitled, rich, skinny, trouble-free, got it all figured out jones'". and it's bullshit. no one's life is perfect. i appreciate people not being negative and airing their dirty laundry online; i appreciate the inspirational quotes; i appreciate hearing a great story or accomplishment; i like updates about kids; i enjoy reading about music; i like reading about lessons in life, funny stories, realizations, amazing experiences. i just don't appreciate the play by play of insecure people saying how great their life is because they had the best tuna melt of their entire life, or that their engagement ring was $4k, or that they hand-stitched matching outfits for their family photos, or that their husband is the most amazing man alive, or that church was fun. if it's that great -- and i am not talking about a generally upbeat facebook or blog -- i am talking about the ridiculous ones where there is never any humility. ahhh, who the hell cares. right? i just don't see it ending well. i see comparison and denial and narcissism and something that isn't right. i don't know. maybe, because i'm not an overachiever, i don't understand. and maybe i don't quilt. or cook. or make everyone in my life blissfully happy. i just, if your life is so great, live it. how do you have the time to be on facebook with all these "friends"? LIVE IT. and if you want to share it with someone, everyone, get a film crew to follow you around and feed your ego by watching your life over and over again. i don't know what's happening or where this is coming from so i am done. with that.‡


there is a lot of world out there. i want to see it. i want my girls to see it. i don't want "stuff" anymore. i want what i have, actually, a little less "stuff" than i have, and i want to DO something.


they are building a Cafe Rio less than two miles from my house. c.j. and i are SO excited we can't even stand it.


i see good in people. i see an innate goodness in people. i believe in it. i have tried to stop myself from this, almost as if i am being naive or weak or deceived, but i won't ever stop seeing the good in people. we all fuck up. but if you can make someone's day better, you might change his or her life. with just one little act of kindness. be good. i want to be good. life is short.


i have recently decided that i must do something: see garth brooks in concert one more time.


music is one of the most important things for our souls, our bodies, our hearts, and our state of mind.


*question answered: (c.j. unprompted said, "he HAS to be our ganny†")

†ganny: we have decided that we need a nanny. but not a girl, so a manny. actually, a ganny. a very handsome, strong, fun, gay man that loves kids to come and live with us and help me. he would be able to help chloe with her wardrobe (since i clearly have no taste), he would help me carry my little LuLu so my back doesn't hurt, he would cook, he would be fun, and we would love him, he would go on vacation with us. and he could lay in bed and watch videos with us with no fear of him putting the moves on me or c.j. WHAT? i may old but i still ... i'll stop there. anyway. we are looking for a ganny. and Galifianakis qualifies as a ganny because both names start with the letter G.

‡of course i am aware i am a hypocrite. a bitter contradiction of myself. don't read too much in the psyche. jealous? annoyed? resentful? tired? ranting? it's nothing personal directed towards anyone. i honestly worry about it in regards to kids growing up with the constant need to compare themselves with everyone else, be better, buy more expensive things, pretend to be happy, popular, flawless ... i think it comes from that. if i had facebook in high school. i probably would have had a nervous breakdown. anyway. bleck.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

30 Things: Day 17

someone you would want to switch lives with for one day and why

Who else? Dr. Phil McGraw! I would want to switch places with Dr. Phil for one day for a number of reasons. I guess it would just be awesome to have the knowledge he has. With his knowledge, I could solve all of my life's mysterious. Or I guess he would since he'd be me? I hope I make a life map for me when I'm him.

I would also like to flaunt his devilish good looks and charisma around town. (I mean, you saw the 'thumbs up' above, right?) How can you even compete with this class? Geez, I love him. I would probably go to a couple of schools and teach a hard-hitting seminar on bullying. Who knows? Maybe I would visit a PTA meeting. The possibilities are endless. If only.

A girl can dream. Or, maybe (as Dr. Phil would say) it's time to "get REAL!"