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Monthly Archives: March 2019
I was the girl who found the genie in the bottle a few years ago. You probably read about me, or heaven forbid, saw me on TV. I’m not much to look at, what with my unruly hair and more-to-love waistline. And yeah, my spectacles and the prominent nose they perch upon. My ears stick out. I should use the past tense. I was all those things. All that has changed now, and my looks change invariably. With every little thought in my head, actually. It’s hard to get things just right and sometimes I revert back to my old look, that God gave me, because it’s so exhausting being things other than what I am. I sometimes wish back to my old life, too, but it’s a double edged sword. I bounce around because it’s impossible to be content when you know things can be better…or at least different. I was fishing, is how it happened. I thought I’d found an urn of somebody’s kin they no longer wanted to be responsible for that they cast out. Maybe a long dead relative they had no memory of. I could understand, I don’t want no bad ju-ju, myself. I was rubbing the goop off the side to see if there was any engraving and out pops this dude who looked like Cheech of Cheech and Chong. It was clear…
I get a bit of a break today. ‘Bout time. I read the other day that many don’t adhere to Lent on Sundays. I have been, primarily because I don’t attend church, and I have a whole bunch of people to pray for! I need every day. All I had to do today, besides pray, was meet my selected friend for breakfast (at my favorite breakfast joint) and get to work on time. That last part is easier said than done. But I was close enough if it came to horseshoes or hand grenades. AND I was a whole minute EARLY to IHOP. So that counts for something, right? The prayers are simple. I am to pray for her friends and family that are facing trials and tribulations. I was thinking on the way up the road this morning that we ask for a lot of things, but when we’re sick, that always rockets to the top of the list. When you’re sick, truly sick, not one other thing matters. You just want to be well. So I’ll pray for those first, and probably a bit more fervently in my mind. I don’t know what the rest of her tribe is going through, but I imagine it’s just life. Life can be daunting. I attended a funeral once, I think it was Joe Woods’, and the preacher said, “You’re either going…
Sigh. Sigh. I’m doing that a lot lately. Then I remember my breathing yoga-esque exercises and try to relax my shoulders and ground myself and think happy thoughts. Which ties into my Lent fast today. I am to give up hate. Now, this is a tricky thing. Those of you who know me are like, “Amy hates??? She seems so happy and carefree!!” and the ones of you who really know me are laughing hysterically. Because, in general, no, I’m not much of a hater. I LIKE stuff. I LOVE stuff. I attempt to look for the beauty and happiness in life. But then….people. I like to say I’m an equal opportunity racist. I hate all people equally. I don’t even hate my hate! I like to be angry sometimes. I think our rage protects us to a point. Like, if I didn’t get mad, my feelings would be hurt, and Lord knows my feelings are right there at the edge anyway. I’m the biggest crybaby there ever was. And some people don’t appreciate that, it’s seen as a weakness in the workplace, especially. So it’s better to be angry. I hate getting sunburned but I like peeling the dead skin off. It feels so nice when fresh air hits it. It’s so satisfying to get a big long piece. I hate peeling oranges but…
Life has a way of humbling you. It seems like as soon as you have a plan for the way you want your life to go, here comes a great big socket wrench right at your face. So you revise, and find a new path. You might even get to continue that way for awhile, but sooner or later you hit a pothole and you veer offtrack again. Except it’s only offtrack in your mind, God had decided long before how things were going to go for you. It’s just hard to swallow sometimes. I know a girl who was destined to do great things. She was going into the military. She was hoping to work in Intelligence. And she could have. But she changed her mind during aptitude tests. The Army wanted her, but being a Sagittarius, her mind was made up and that was that. She was going out of state to school to major in communications. She was a big communicator. But her best laid plans were shot again. Back home and pregnant, she worked a series of jobs that weren’t designed to be career-building, but they paid the bills. And at one, she met her husband. New plans. More children. And now: a house in the midst of cornfields, a gym membership, and a cabinet full of wine, we find our hopeful CIA agent. Her eyes are the same, even if her hair is not. Her parents, already old…
My friends are cruel. I’m not even gonna keep you in suspense on this one. No jewelry. Do you KNOW how much I love my jewelry? It hangs from every doorknob in my bedroom, two drawers crammed full, two jewelry trees, and a jewelry box. The bigger and flashier, the better. And not one piece will adorn me today. No eye-catching necklace, no jingling bracelets, no sparkly rings, not even my tiny glittering studs are in my ears. I feel exposed. But. The reason is solid, and so I dressed in such a way I wouldn’t have worn much, anyway. I feel so drab. I feel like a BOY. But I suppose it came on an okay-enough day. I didn’t have to go anywhere today, besides work and spin, and at work I’m not exactly flocked with strangers most days. As for spin, I take almost all my jewelry off, and I don’t think I can look any worse than when I’m exercising, so it’s fine. Who gave me this little piece of hell, you want to know? My good friend, Jena. That’s right, she knows exactly where to go for blood. Dirty, dirty. I would never mistreat her that way. Y’all should know I just spent an eternity hunting for a certain picture of her on my flash drives. I didn’t find it but here’s…
You may not like someone the first time you meet them. Or the second. Or maybe not even the third. But eventually they may wear you down, grow on you like a mole. Before you realize it, it’s there, and you never even noticed. This is how it was for me with Brandi. I worked with her husband for awhile before I ever met her. She had a bit of a reputation for being brazen and opinionated. And LOUD. She made up for her short stature with volume. Brandi has narrowed eyes that miss nothing. She talks fast and drives faster. She has an extremely low tolerance for b.s., which is unfortunate because she’s surrounded with drama. That comes with the territory when raising a teenager, I suppose. She’s smokes to offset the stress. Anyway, I don’t remember the moment where I decided she was all bark and no bite (when it came to me, anyway. The rest of y’all will have to fend for yourselves). Maybe when she lowered her guard with me when she saw I wasn’t after her husband! Scotty became my “work husband” pretty early on, because I could trust him to not leave me on top of pallet racks or the little office after raising me up with the forklift. He always helped me lift salt bricks (hey, 48# is a lot when it’s over your head!) and…
A long time ago, I lived on Sugarloaf Mountain. On Sugarloaf Mountain, I had many things: time on my hands, a Saanan goat named Daisy whom I led around like a dog on a purple leash printed with daisies, a very long driveway, and a pair of Watusi cattle named Gus and Clara. I also had excellent neighbors across the ridge named Donnie and Alene. Alene was a fellow bookworm and we would trade paperbacks as frequently as we traded recipes. She started me some flowers and we would take them eggs. She was like another mother to me, so warm and inviting. They had a pond and many summer afternoons you could find me there feeding their catfish…or catching them. I walked with Alene around her yard as she pointed out various flowers and where they had come from. She had beautiful, thick, clematis vines climbing up her carport. It was a quiet life for a 26 year old. I felt like a homesteader, working in my lettuce bed and scattering corn for the wild turkeys. Flash forward twelve years. I had worked with Alene in the 911 building until she retired, and I moved off the mountain, back home. I ran into Donnie and Alene at the funeral home (that’s where I see everybody!) and I learned that they, too, had moved. It was so good to see them and catch up! I hugged their necks off. The next time I saw Donnie he…
And now I’m gonna tell you about Mike’s wife, Cat. You talk about fun. She’s a NUT. She has frosted hair and an honest-to-God beauty mark. She’s high energy and all giggles and she’s the pickest eater I’ve ever met. She loves Rod Stewart. That’s where I learned to love him. I think you become an adult and end up listening to whatever kind of music you grew up with for the rest of your life. Nothing will ever beat Michael Jackson for me. I digress. Cathy was always petting me and saying I was the daughter she never had. Of course, I ate up all attention like a mule in a corn crib, so that was just fine with me. She tells me that even now, every time I see her. I have never doubted Cathy’s love for me. And I hope she’s never doubted my love for her. As I mentioned before, she had a son that I spent a lot of time with in my youth. While the adults were inside watching Cheers, we were out exploring the creek and fighting off Indians. We had a great time. But long before we became teenagers, we drifted apart. When you don’t go to the same school it’s hard to stay in touch. And this was long before the days of Facebook and MySpace and…
I just thought giving up sugar was hard. Or dairy. Those are child’s play compared with forcing yourself to go the speed limit. This is virtually impossible. Or maybe it’s just me? Did you know the speed limit on Old Knoxville Highway is THIRTY?!?! Did you know that through the curves it’s TWENTY FIVE??? And downtown is TWENTY?!? Maggie doesn’t even idle that slow!! I do twenty in my driveway!!! I had to pull over on Boyds Creek this morning to let traffic pass. I refuse to be one of those people making everybody late for work. NOBODY drives the speed limit. I’ve held the opinion for many years that the speed limits need to be increased. That opinion was reinforced this morning. Old Knoxville Highway speed limits seem a bit severe. I mean, I get that it’s narrow and windy, but TWENTY FIVE?!? Maybe if you’re in a box van or a delivery truck, but for the average Joe that’s a bit restrictive. Anyway. My opinion. My job is just to follow it. Lunch was another challenge. Rubbin’s racin’ on 66. But I think I obeyed the law. I tried, anyway. I had other things to worry about. Like all the tourists on spring break craning their necks to get a peek at Dolly or maybe the nearest moonshine distillery. Luckily, I had board tonight so by the time I…
Funny how when you have your own agenda for the way things are supposed to go nothing pans out, you are met with a million obstacles, and you feel like you’re just spinnin’ your wheels. But when you put the God driven things back at the top of your priorities list, your shoulders ease, your breathing deepens, and your mind lines back up. And so it goes for me today. I’ve been behind since I woke up. I honestly applied my makeup at work today. Speaking of that, I need to go get all my palettes and assorted arsenal of brushes from my bag, lest I find myself in the same boat in the morning (highly likely). ‘Scuse me. Ok, I’m back. While I realize y’all would have no idea if I stepped away from my keyboard for five minutes or five hours, I feel telling you gives you a sense of personal….whatever. Call me crazy, but may I point out you’re still reading? Alright. So I’m a pretty sorry Lent-er today. I’ve cussed, I’ve dwelt on stuff out of my control, I’ve rushed headlong into things, I’ve been short tempered and an actual pain in the ass to several people today. Worst of all, I’ve not prayed like I should have, like I promised I would. Hey, y’all are my…
