I still exist---

More to come....

A Summer Wind-

Here is a beautiful Summer flower. I know this , because I googled, "Summer Flower" to capture a certain feeling I need right now. I would love to be standing in the space where this flower resides. But I am not. I need to be okay with that. And I am. I am okay with the fact that I am not standing near a wild flower in some stunning garden, possibly even near a beach. I am okay that, instead of paradise, I am seated in an uncomfortable chair in front of my computer, in Weehawken. It's okay though. I've got a big bubbly glass of ginger ale, with lime. A lot of ice. A few animals lazily graze around the room---and the Facebook window is up--not far away--So as not to miss anything.
The last time I wrote here, on this page, that sometimes goes unnoticed, I felt wildly depressed. Right now, I feel better, but still often worrisome about....well, everything I guess. The Summer days are slippin' away and I feel like I should be doing more. But----I'm just here trying to figure it out. Trying to be creative. Trying not to worry that I will forever be penniless. Trying not to worry that I won't ever be able to be a mom to more than animals. The usual things. For those of you out there who find yourself worrying. Well, I don't know. I could say stop. But it's tough. Do what you can to find ways to make yourself happy. I wish I could help ya, but I am just sitting here in Weehawken.
It's really quite nice. Next week, I will be scampering off to Martha's Vineyard for a much needed escape. I know, I say I am poor and then all of a sudden I'm at the Kennedy Compound. Well, I am traveling via the $1 bus to Boston. Check it. That way I can still afford a Mangotini when I step off the ferry----in White Linen. Hopefully, the travel will rejuvenate me and I can continue writing and trying to give something more of myself. Until then. xo

It's been a long time coming---

It's been awhile since I have made the invisible internet world aware of my existence. I have been on a journey. I won't really say it's one of those amazing, trip to Nepal- gotta figure it all out journey's either. It's more of---shall we say-----the shittiest journey I have ever been on my life. Because for the most part, my life has been good. Very good. But this past year---or even the past two years has been shit. I am not going to sugar coat anything. I don't care. I gotta put it all out there, just to get by. Seriously.
A couple of weeks ago I had my fifth miscarriage. I think with six, you get eggroll. I have been pregnant off and on, for two years. The entire first two years of my marriage have been spent getting pregnant and losing it over and over again. It is painful and scary and a very solitary time for me. I don't think people fully understand the impact it can have on a woman. It is heartbreaking. And like I always, say, I'm basically 40---time is passing me by like crazy. It's crazy----crack addicts have babies every second. Me? I have a fruit shake and the baby dies. Oh, I know it will all work out. People always say that---"You'll be a mom one day"----"at least it happened early"------ha--When somebody's parent dies, do ya say---"well, at least ya have another one"-----Ahhh, but they don't mean any harm. And it is a hard subject to talk about. But it's funny, I have no problem talking about it. As you can see, I have no problem, since I am blogging about it. But, society continues to whisper it like a disease. ** The lovely picture above was taken right before my recent d&c surgery. I tried to take it like a trooper---but man, it was hard.

So---I have been dealing with this crap along with the rest of life and all it's joy. My husband just got fired recently, which is great, because I haven't been working for a couple of months and there is nothing under our mattress except dust---well, there is actually no dust, because I have ocd and clean the house from top to bottom. Every day. We have four animals, who I make sure eat better than us. Not true, we actually have five animals, because my parents are on their own journey to depression and have been living in hotels since early December. Let it be known, these Hotels are not resorts in St. Maarten---they are like tiny ants of Hotels, barely even noticeable on any map. I miss my parents. I long for those easy times, sitting around drinking too much coffee, laughing and listening to their old albums. I barely see them now.
So--I sit here, drinking decaf--writing these words, in between Facebook check ins--hoping people still know I exist. I realize I need to write a book----and if I could let myself just do it instead of making up excuses, it could be half finished by now. But I worry, it won't be good--or where do I start---or who cares---So I begin on this blog--hoping things will just flow. There is no bullshit here. If you came looking for a note on Strawberries--I do apologize. I gotta just put down truthful words about my life right now. That is what is going on. That is what I am feeling.
Come again---xo

Life is just a bowl of cherries-

--And if I'm going to be poor, I want to look like this. The brooding Flapper. A cute pixie cut and an empty bank account. A flask instead of a gun to shoot myself because times are so tough. I don't want to go the local bar and try to sip other people's drinks because I don't have enough for my own. I wanna hit up the old Speak Easy on Charles St.-I wanna smoke 18 cigarettes and talk about books, while sipping gin, that was made in 'Cal's attic. I want a Jazz Band--I wanna sing. I wanna wear my slinky emerald green dress with tiny raindrop beads and I wanna sing! Some smokey tune about how some old drunk left me --headed west for a better life and left me behind--I wanna sing! and maybe some liar of a man in a tattered suit will slip me his business card. He'll tell me he's got a a little joint in the South of France where I can go sing all night in the bars on the beach and live for free. I'll be tan all day so it won't matter that I'm aging. I'll be the envy of all at this old Speakeasy. It will almost seem like I'm a somebody for a minute. I'll stay there all night singing, smoking, drinking and being the it girl of the daunting depression. Then I'll slink out in the early hours, squinting, because I've forgotten my glasses. I'll saunter on home, strappy heels in hand, feet calloused and torn. I'll sit on my little window seat covered with lace I stole from some dressmakers shop. I'll sip strong hungarian coffee and write another chapter on the Underwood. It won't matter that I'm poor. It won't matter at all.

Is it another year already?

Where did the time go? Where did I go? Well, I am still here-barely. Haven't written since September and in the chance that many of you think I may have passed away, like an old faded piece of torn scrap paper---I have only been away for awhile. (Mentally) I wish you all a Happy New Year. So much as happened since I last wrote I don't even know where to begin. Between, President Elect Obama and the fact that I have yet another furry creature living under my roof, it's enough to just be bursting with too much to report. So I will keep it brief. Here are some things I would like to work on this next year--

Do not adopt another animal. Even if a cute little Koala comes tap tapping on my door, with it's little suitcase and hat. Slam the door!

Try not to worry so much---about bullshit, like unwanted hair, wrinkles and money.

Spend more time writing. (even if it is the stupid blog, that nobody reads)

Have a kid already--

Thank you and Good Luck to all