Troubles Enough

I have the tendency to be a rather flip person, particularly when I'm in public. I spent so much of my life in a trench, it doesn't really interest me to be perceived as a very "deep" person although I like to think that most of the people in my life know that there's at least something going on inside of me besides biological functions.

I was a freshmen in college when the infamous September 11 attacks happened in New York. I went to a Catholic college and the next day there was a prayer service out on the lawn. Most of my friends were Christian, if not Catholic, and went to the service. I opted out - I don't crash parties and I'm not going to muck up your nice religious moment with my indifference. Later that day , a friend remarked that it was sad for her to see me walk off alone from the service. And I said, "Hey, it's okay. I'm secure enough in my own beliefs to let you do your own thing." And then this GUY that I was sort of dating looked at me and said, rather scornfully, "You don't believe anything."

First, let me assure you that this particular budding relationship experienced a very early frost. I mean, really. I don't believe anything? Seriously?

As someone without a set belief system or religious background, let me say that not only do I believe PLENTY of things, but that it hasn't always been easy deciphering what is true and what isn't in this big fucked up world. There's no book for people like me, at least not a single book with all the pertinent information. I've sorted some things out. I've made some mistakes, had my mind changed, and even changed some minds. I can definitely say that it's been a long row to hoe, but there are certain things I believe without a shadow of doubt, and these things are dear to me.

Because I Like This Kind of Pie

I cut leaves into my pies.

When I make a pie, I take my best, sharpest knife and I cut two leaves into the top so that the crust doesn't bubble and bake. I think this reveals more about me than my accent, education, profession, or clothing. Moreso than my heartache, my dreams, and the scar from my tonsillectomy - this gesture communicates what I am. And what I am is unfailingly in love with the idea of a good life. Not the good life, mind you. Just a good, simple life...maybe one that Bruce Springsteen would write about.

Here's the catch: I don't have that kind of life. I never did, and I probably never will. Though the use of "never" is widely discouraged as being negatively prophetic, I calls them as I sees them. That kind of iconic life was just not allotted for me at the beginning of it all. I regret this. I regret this more than the most horrible things I have actually done.

I grew up in tense, measured chaos. I won't get into specifics - that's vulgar. I haven't slept in 20 years—not really—and I don't have any hopes of sleeping for another 20.

In my spare time, I've created a kind of media kit for my life and times. The good points are exaggerated, the low points are made into hysterical 30-second anecdotes that I tell my co-workers at lunch as I roll my eyes at my silly, colorful life with my silly, colorful family. I expound on the really, really great moments and I dig little graves for the brutal moments. Ultimately, I live somewhere in between the memories and the cover stories.

At the end of the day, what happened...happened. I am many things – a wife, sister, best friend, worst enemy, good tipper. But mostly, I am a girl who cuts leaves into her pies as a way of living the dream, even if it's just for a few moments.

Just So You Know

Scarlet Fever couldn't kill me and neither can you.