At first glance, it appeared to be a brandy snifter cradled in her hand as she tossed her hair back and laughed at the most bawdy jokes lobbed her direction. Upon a second look through the faint smoke around her, it became obvious that the delicious looking glass object was a water pipe. Hand-made and obviously expensive.

She made a crass reference to erotic asphyxiation and her eyes twinkled mischievously as the jaws around her dropped. She laughed and took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet smelling herbal smoke that hung in the air. Cigarettes were always kept outside, good cigars occasionally wandered through the house if the windows were open, but this smoke was always welcome.

She wasn’t the typical hostess. She dressed in a simple bohemian fashion that bordered on eccentric. Bright cotton poplin printed capri pants and a split-neck tunic that hung at the top of her thighs. A simple black tourmaline pendant hung from her neck on a braided hemp rope. Her jewelry was always simple, but she was never seen without her beloved wedding ring.

It was obvious she had seen thinner days and her breasts had clearly seen too many nights with crying babies. Still, she laughed loudly and occasionally winked at her husband who held court at the other end of the room. He, in turn, nodded and lifted his glass in her direction.

This was no magical evening, no air of mystery or romance hung in the room. It was simply a dinner with ordinary people, drinking, smoking, and laughing. The jokes were plenty and she would undoubtedly have to endure family members complaining about party-goers and their ridiculous comments tomorrow. But, tonight, she was just a person, chatting and laughing in the middle of her kitchen. The guilt could wait.

Once upon a time I was the girl at the drive-in movies who loudly asked, “Eww, what is THAT smell?” S.O. jokes that he was probably the source of the smell just a couple of cars over.

We lived just a few blocks from each other for most of my childhood. He worked at a little cafe in the mall that my grandmother loved to go to. I went there often. He was probably one of the long-haired, rough looking boys that my grandmother clucked her tongue in distaste at.

My father worked with his stepdad for a few years.

Intersecting rings that grew smaller and smaller.

He moved to a town 30 minutes away. Started working in the oil fields. He met the husband of one of my close friends from high school and they became good friends. She and I talked regularly. One of her twins died at 6 months of age. I attended the funeral, he sat a few pews away.

We met about a year later, through the same friend. We had a disastrous first date. We talked on the phone. We lost touch. We ran into each other at the mall, he had shaved, I had cut my hair.

Two years later we were married. We’ve been together since I was twenty and he was thirty-two. But, I wonder how many times I saw him, how many times we were yards or feet apart and never knew it.

He’s no longer the long haired ruffian, or the biker in the leather jacket, he’s just a great guy with a short hair cut, a closet full of golf shirts, and three kids who adore him.

I think it was meant to be.

I’m back to exploring my own spirituality. I won’t be able to write about it nearly as eloquently as my dear friend Crys does, but I’m going to do my best with it.

Recently, I rearranged a portion of my family room. I just felt the need. Through the transition there was a definite change in the flow and energy of the room. It felt better, it flowed better. I may change my mind in a few months, but for now it just feels right.

I’ve started and stopped this post so many times that I have no idea what my point is or where I’m going. For now, I’m working on meditating, visualizations, and a lot of prayer. I’m trying to listen and look for signs around me and in nature. To go on my instincts and most importantly to have faith and hope.

For me, hope and faith are sisters. I read somewhere that fear is the opposite of faith. Fear is faith inverted, it’s having faith in bad stuff. It’s so easy to expect the bad things and such a challenge to look for and expect the good. But, it’s a challenge I’m willing to overcome.

I’ve been so fortunate to have people come into my life who are willing to support me and help me try to grow and expand spiritually, to help me see beyond the flesh and physical. It’s not a religious thing, it’s a spiritual thing.

The other night S.O. and I were talking to the kids about signs we’ve seen, felt, heard. Like the night S.O.’s father died. We both woke up at the same time and just laid there in the dark, staring at the ceiling. S.O. said quietly, “He’s gone.” I said, “I know.” It was maybe fifteen minutes later we got the call.

There was the day of his father’s funeral. It was held in a little, podunk town where his father had last lived. It was warm, the cemetery didn’t have a lot of trees. At a pivotal moment in the service a wind blew through that sounded, very much, like the wind blowing through the trees in a mountain canyon. No birds, no other sounds. We knew… we just knew. S.O.’s father was a mountain man, how he ended up in that town was beyond my understanding because it was hell and gone from the mountains he loved. Still, on that day, we heard a mountain wind.

I know that there is more to me than just this flesh and blood. There’s more to be learned, acknowledged, and listened to.

Had a bit of a melt down. Spent the weekend on the brink, to the point of being physically ill complete with all sorts of disgusting spewage and chills.

My mother caused MORE garbage at the school. Asking about Deirdre in front of her math class and then keeping two ex-friends (former best friends, actually) after class for a happy little gab session. Over the weekend we found out to what extent she had buddied up to two of Deirdre’s closest friends, garnering their support and betrayal of Deirdre in the process.

Unfortunately, one of them made the mistake of talking some massive smack on MySpace and used Deirdre’s (real) name in the process.

This is where I provide some minor background detail of how my mother turned my best friend (since kindergarten no less) against me my freshman year of high school and then gave her all of my brand new school clothes when she kicked me out of the house.

So, obviously, flashbacks of my youth ensued and the mommy dragon awoke from her slumber with the burning desire for teenage flesh on a stick.

But, before I could take action, I spent the weekend stewing, steaming, livid, and literally sick. It’s not JUST the situation with my mother, it’s the rest of life’s stresses at the moment and there are a lot of them. Too many to handle.

Today there was yet another meeting with the principal at Deirdre’s school with words like “restraining order” and “harassment” thrown about. The principal is going to make my mother squirm more, Deirdre’s friends were called into the office and put on the hot seat, and finally, I guaranteed them leaving her in peace for the rest of the school year by threatening to arrive on the girl’s doorstep with S.O. in tow to have a lovely sit down with her grandparents (yeah, she’s one of those kids) over many MySpace print outs.

My mother, like a pedophile, can seek out a kid’s weakness and exploit it for her own gain. In this case, she took a girl who is being raised by her grandparents, whose mother’s latest boyfriend (and baby daddy) is serving a life sentence in prison, and who has 2 other sisters by two other fathers, and basically gave her the attention, approval, etc. that she obviously, desperately craved. Of course, my mother will convince herself (and try to convince others) that she did this with purely altruistic intentions. The truth is, she did it because Deirdre has a soft spot for this girl and my mother felt she could keep a live connection to my daughter through this kid.

I’m no longer surprised, but I can’t say I’m not thoroughly disgusted and disturbed by the lengths my mother will go to keep her claws in this family.

I wish I could say I had this melt down, released some steam, maybe gained some ground and that this made me feel better. In some ways I do feel better, but in many I just feel like it was just one more battle in the war and I’m so damned tired of the war.

It’s up, it’s down and right now? It’s down again. Sure, not as bad as in the past, but not as good as it should be. Whatever karmic sins I’ve committed are far from being rectified, it would seem.

I give.

Universe! Please note my fist pounding on the mat.

I give. I’m done. Stick a fork in me. I’ll roll over, I’ll play dead. I swear.

Smudged and blessed the house yesterday, prayed with the kids, and am now going to systematically go through and get every ounce of clutter out of this house. Gone, gone gone.

Balance and harmony.

Then I took a long, hot shower and cracked open a bottle of champagne to celebrate. Ok, I actually cracked open a bottle of champagne because I didn’t want to drink red wine. I wasn’t in the mood. Not always, but sometimes you just have to be in the mood for red wine or wine in general, I guess.

I’m a little giddy over the energy in the house. Wait… nope, that’s just the champagne.

No, wait… I think I’m just feeling a lot better all the way around.

Ahh, it’s Wednesday and for once, I don’t feel like I might not make it to Friday with my sanity intact. Not bad. Not bad.

It’s a dreary day here today. The sky is filled with ominous gray clouds it’s like the pressure is building and just waiting for the rain to release it. Rowan is driving me bonkers today. I love her but she gets very antsy and clingy in weather like this. I blame the barometric pressure.

I had a doctor’s appointment this morning that only served to further convince me that doctors have become nothing more than legalized drug pushers. It’s so much easier to write out a prescription…

What the appointment did accomplish was to make me aware that I have got to make some changes. Not because a doctor gave me a scare, not because my blood pressure was up, but because I came to a realization. I’m the only one who is going to take care of me, I’m the only one who can be an advocate for me, I’m the only one who is going to be able to make the necessary changes.

I’m tired, I’m run down, I’ve been put through the wringer emotionally, physically, and in any other possible way you can imagine over the last several months. Easily for the last year or so. It’s time to take better care of me, I guess.

So, today I skipped the diet sodas and sipped hot tea instead. Tonight we’ll make tacos for dinner and I’ll wrap mine in a cabbage leaf instead of a tortilla.

Baby steps, I know. I just keep telling myself that if I put enough baby steps together, one after another, I might finally get somewhere.

It’s not just about weight, it’s about the heaviness I feel, worse today than other days because I’m also PMS’ing which leaves me both depressed and bitchy.

I’m burned out. I’m tired of life being so damn hard and one way or the other I have to start taking some proactive steps. I’m not foolish enough to think I can gain control because control never really exists.