25 Years Ago Today...

On August 31, 1986 my mother's current boyfriend (or as I like to call him - stepfather from hell) decided to "treat" me to Disneyland.  He said we'd be there from opening to closing - and he didn't wake up until the park had been open for 90 minutes. 

We finally got on our way around 11:30am, but he forgot his smokes so we pulled off the freeway at Carmenita in Cerritos.  He ran into the grocery store, got stuck behind a person writing a check (it really made him angry that it took so long), so he ran out complaining and we were off once more - but he missed the freeway on-ramp.  As he was cursing the general existence of freeway planners, the world exploded.

Aeromexico Flight 498 was struck mid-air by a small, private plane.  The DC-9 came falling from the sky in a firestorm onto the unsuspecting residential neighborhood, and I was there to witness it happen right before my eyes.

I still have nightmares about the motorcyclist that laid down his bike and immediately began undressing to cover the various body parts that were raining down all around us...the lower arm that landed approximately 10 feet from my backseat window is etched into my psyche forever.

82 people died that day...and he decided to still take me to Disneyland.

The Journey

Hot.  Hot, hot heat.  When you arrive at your first stop at 8:30am and the thermometer reads 96 degrees F, you know you are in trouble.

My journey began when my husband and I loaded our three children into the van and my two friends came along for adventure - at 6:30am there was not much talking or laughing, it was not quite jolly.  I drove because I wanted to "recreate" this elusive past I've dreamt about; and so I was in charge of the playlist.  Our travels started with the Indigo Girls "Get Out the Map"...I'm singing along and everyone else is asleep, all is good.


By the time we arrived at Hadley's Fruit Orchards for our date shakes, we all needed to stretch our legs and the kids were in need of a bathroom break.  My daughter did not like the shakes, my eldest son did and the baby was just angry we woke him up to get out of the car.  After about 45 minutes we were all loaded up again and had another hour to travel down into the pit of the desert.  The Salton Sea is more than 200 feet BELOW sea level.  As we merged back onto the 10 freeway, Sarah McLaughlin was singing about "Fear"...and it was so apropos.

After missing the unlabeled dirt road that I was suppose to turn down (thus leading to an uncomfortable argument with my husband and about 30 minutes of extra driving) we backtracked, found it courtesy of GPS and the memories were really flooding my brain.

This place is NOT a vacation spot, it is in NO way appropriate for children.  I had completely forgotten about the tsi tsi flies and horse flies that will literally swarm you and try to eat you alive; I had completely forgotten about the stench of death that permeates the air - well, death mixed with sulfur.  The old camping spot is pretty much abandoned - except for the creepy guy parked in his red SUV doing god knows what.

I left there as quickly as possible, my husband took two pictures while we fought off the man-eating flies and we jumped back in the van to get the hell out of there.  Did I forget to mention the heat?  Oh, right.  When we were are Hadley's, 96 degrees was bearable...when we got to the edge of the sea 117 degrees was UNBEARABLE.  It felt like the air was going to burn your lungs, and your body instantly triggered the fight or flight response.

Remember, this is where I lived from the week after school got out - until the week before school began, three summers in a row starting when I was 5.  Approximately six of the hottest weeks on the planet were spent in an illegal camp with no electricity, pissing and shitting into a bucket that was thrown into a trench dug by the various degenerates that lived down there year round.  Dear god!

The most important lesson I took from this trip?  How in the hell did my mother and grandmother ever let me go down there with my grandfather?  Why did my grandfather think this was an appropriate place for a small child to be?  What the hell????

The Campaign is kickin' my butt!

Well, I finally figured out how to "follow" everyone in my group (all those with no "follow" button are making it incredibly difficult to "follow" you!), and now I am responsible for reading 60 blogs everyday.  I am a mother of three and even when the older two start school on Wednesday, I will still have my willful, stubborn, overly active 15 month old at home with me.  It took me over 3 hours on Friday to read/comment on all the blogs; and I don't have that kind of time!

Please, gentle bloggers, please let me know how you do this - and how to do it correctly!  I want to fulfill my obligations; but as of this weekend...I feel like I'm letting Rach & all the other bloggers down!

I know, I know...I'm a perfectionist and I'm sure Liz will say "Just do what you can"; but I want to give all of you the same attention you are giving to me!

Help!

I've decided to take a Journey...

The novel I am writing is 50% based on my personal experiences with my grandfather down at the Salton Sea in Southern California, and 50% based on my fucked up imagination.

Having said that, I have felt this irrepressible need to drive to the god-forsaken place and take some pictures; re-experience it if you will. 

My husband actually agreed with me that it is probably important to do this, I was not expecting that.

So this Sunday, I will leave to drive out there with 6 other people in the van with me - I decided it might as well be a family thing and then invited a couple dear friends for good measure!

I plan to drive the same route, stop at the same stops, and generally re-create as much as I can from memory.  My daughter is attending this trip down memory lane, so I might use her as a stand-in for some of the more important photos. 

What I am struggling with is how excited I am to show my kids and husband this vital piece of land that is so ingrained in my history, in who I truly am as their mother - as a wife to my husband.  The summers I spent there changed me.  The shit that I saw affected my world view. 

The Salton Sea was where I did a lot of growing up - growing up faster than any seven year old should.  I've got demons down there, but I refuse to let them scare me - I'm going to go and have a good time with my family and I'm going to show my kids the fun "kid" things so that they have the experience they should.

I can't wait to stop at Hadley's and get a date shake, I haven't had one since I was seven!  I can't wait to see if my kids love them as much as I do!  I want to take pictures with the giant Cabazon Dinosaurs.

Everything we do will be based on having a good time...I promise you that!

Sibling Rivalry

My daughter began archery this summer, my son instantly wanted to take part as well.  After watching how dedicated she is, taking her to daily coaching and practice sessions; it became apparent that not only is she gifted in this sport - she is passionate about it.

Olivia researched archery as a sport and discovered that not only are there national and international competitions, Archery is an Olympic event.  Going to the Olympics has become her goal.  She talks about it non-stop, asking her father and I "when I go to the Olympics, will you both be there?" Notice she does not say "IF" but "WHEN".

So now my son is also shooting.  He is really gifted and passionate about it too.  Last week their coach told my husband a funny story.  It seems that Olivia was talking about "when" she goes to the Olympics and Topher said, "Sissy, wouldn't it be funny if I made it to the Olympics before you?"  Their coach began laughing his ass off!  Olivia was not too happy, but Topher was not trying to be snide - he was honestly asking her if it would be funny...she did not see the humor.

Ah! Sibling Rivalry at its best!

Mental Illness Sucks Ass

It has been quite an eventful last 24 hours.  I've joined the Third Writers' Platform-Building Campaign, I've scheduled appointments, I've done the grocery shopping, I've had lunch and dinner with friends and in-laws, Oh! - and I've dealt with my brother threatening to kill my husband and just generally losing his mind...again.

Bi-polar/schizophrenic with psychotic tendencies...that is his official diagnosis; but he refuses to admit that there is anything wrong with him.  SO, I live my life loving him and wanting a better life for him; constantly bringing him back into the fold for one more chance (when he can pass for sane, usually).  EVERY time I do this, he screws me over and goes crazy again.

Logically I understand that he has a mental illness that is not under control and so I cannot really blame him; can I?  But I want to!  I want to rail and rant at him!  I want to scream "GET SOME FUCKING HELP!"  Is there really any point?

He is unemployed, he has a record, and he sleeps in parks.  It makes me so sad when I think about how I left him with my mother to go away to school.  I wanted out so badly, I didn't even consider what I was abandoning.  She did not want to deal with the responsibility of raising another child, she sure as hell doesn't want to deal with his mental illness now. God, I feel so shitty right now...

Through all of this, I have my mother here...living comfortably with me - off of my husbands sweat and hard work.  I have so many issues with her, that can be a book in and of itself...

I'm participating in the Third Writers' Platform-Building Campaign!

Hello Everyone!
I have decided (after much ado and discussion with various peoples, including Liz) to join the Third Writers' Platform-Building Campaign.  Since I am so new to the blogging world, there is a lot that I will be learning and there is a lot I am already confused about; but I have high hopes!

I look forward to these challenges and to making new friends and followers in this exciting new world!


Check back frequently to see how this is all going, and let's hope I don't fall on my face!

It's midnight and I'm writing...

 This is what is bouncing around in my head...another part to my story...please let me know what you think...

“What do you mean you want to go back to happiness?  What does that mean?” I said in my usual exasperated tone.  I had, after all, become someone new to myself; someone that I no long knew or even liked.  Communicating with the old man had become a chore that was mired in confusion, fantasy, and more than a little crazy.

“I just want to see it one more time, I want to feel the heat and smell the water.” He replied, and I finally stopped folding clothes long enough to look at him - to register the very real longing on his face.  It made me ashamed.

“Do you remember that place as something magical? Because I don’t.”  My reply was venom, I cannot even seem to stop it when I want to now.  His sad eyes are more than a bit wet, and still I’m filled with anger - this feeling isn’t right and yet I can’t seem to feel anything else.  What happened to me?

“Baby doll, you know we had good times; why won’t you let yourself remember the good times?” he asks me.

“Good times?!? Are you kidding me?? That is the place where you nearly killed me!!!”

Another part to my book...feedback is appreciated! :)

When you can't sleep because the words won't stop...

I was lying in bed, unable to shut off my brain; words just kept coming - so I decided to get up and put them down on paper. What I wrote in the wee hours of the night will be the topic of my blog today...these words are part of that novel that has been plaguing my thoughts for the past 5 years. Please let me know what you think...
 
Dead fish, briny water, sweat, and just the most subtle hint of citrus, that is what the North Shore of the Salton Sea smelled like in the summer of ’81. Horse flies the size of half dollars, temperatures that reached 116 degrees, and alcoholic old men telling stories were the sounds that surrounded me. The small, illegal enclave of broken down, dilapidated campers that dotted the landscape at the inlet where I lived was a hell hole to many; a place to go and drink away the pain for some. I was 7 years old and didn’t know any better, it was heaven on earth to my young eyes because I was with him. The scrub grass, the tumble weeds, the jack rabbits and snakes; were all witness to the best and worst summer of my life. I loved the old life raft that he inflated for me to fill with water I carried in buckets myself so that I could try to stay cool, I loved the pipe that emptied down the path - that cold water that came from who knows where, carrying who knows what in it - was so refreshing I never thought to ask if it was safe to drink or swim. I loved practice shooting with his pellet rifle at the old beer cans that seemed to amass outside of Jack and Joey’s campers every night. I loved the smell of George’s breath when he was drinking his special Tequila Sunrise medicine. Above all, I loved the old Honda motorcycle he used to drive me to the yacht club for Sunday Pancake Breakfast. Have you ever been to a place so hot that just breathing is hard? A place where the mercury reaches 95 degrees Fahrenheit and the locals comment on how cool its become? I remember the Baptist church we attended all summer, and how I was the only person in the congregation under the age of 65. I remember how cool that church was and how much I looked forward to going there, even though the preacher gave me the creeps because he always hugged me too close and too long. That church and the yacht club were the only places with air conditioning, the only places that didn’t smell like dead fish and sweat. 

Now obviously, this is VERY rough and it is my first foray with letting others read what I write...so please be a bit gentle with me!

Learning How To Blog

So I am sitting here with my dear sis-in-law and she is voluntarily going to walk me through some cool new things that I can do with this blog. Right off the bat, I've learned that I've been writing in the "Edit Html" window when I should be using "Compose"...huh...who would've thunk it?

I guess my version of this blogging software is super old, so now I need to be using something else...we'll see how this all works out...the more I learn, the more complicated this becomes - which just makes me want to throw in the towel!  Because really, who has time for this shit anyway???

So...Since Liz is here, I might as well do the damn aforementioned MEME...

1. Are you a rutabaga?
 This is probably the stupidest, most idiotic question ever thought up; and those adult followers of "Yo Gabba Gabba" probably find it SO PROFOUND!
2. Who is your current crush?
My current crush is the same as my crush from 14 years ago...I am now and will always be...CRUSHING HARD ON MY HUSBAND!!!
3. Upload a heartwarming picture that makes you smile.
UMMM... honestly, the only thing that warms my heart is: 

4. When was the last time you ate a vine-ripened tomato?
 Cooked? two days ago. I made my famous home-made tomato sauce.  Raw however is another story...the last time I had a raw tomato in my mouth (vine ripened or otherwise) was July 8th.  I bit into a burger I had ordered (specifying that I cannot eat raw tomatoes or else I would have a severe allergic reaction) and low and behold...there was a tomato on the burger!  I immediately spit the bite out and it couldn't have been in my mouth for more than 2 seconds, and yet I still broke out in hives all over my face and neck - so NOT a pretty look! 
5. Name one habit that causes other people to plot your demise.
I would say it has to be my habit of being completely unforgiving to those people who make plans and then flake on them...or show up exceedingly late with no valid reason...I truly hate that!
6. What is the weirdest, most disgusting job you've ever had to do?
Maple Leaf Farms.  Very few people can say that they have worked at a duck processing plant, BUT I CAN!  I was responsible for "de-gutting" the ducks after they had been fresh killed, de-feathered, and had their throats slit to drain their blood...oh the stories I can tell about THAT summer job!
7. Where da muffin top at?
I do not believe I can call it a muffin top after 3 GINORMOUS kids...
8. What author introduced you to your genre?
I don't have a genre...
9. Describe yourself using obscure Latin words.
Obscurum per obscurius 

So, I'm done with this post and now I am to "TAG" someone else...well, since I'm so new and only know of 2 blogs (one being the person who tagged me!), I will choose my dear friend and medium LILITH/Sue Jorgenson.       

The Universe is conspiring...against or for me?

My husband tells me to write a poem, and then my sister-in-law writes a meme post on her blog and tags me asking that I return to my long abandoned blog...

Well, I am not in the blogosphere and I do not even know what a meme is, I can assume it is a series of questions that are asked to get to know one better. At least that is what I assume.

As soon as I figure out how to take from her blog, and add to my own; I will post that meme here...

It strikes me as a bit strange, though, that two people in my life are suddenly trying to get me to write. At a time when I am contemplating enrolling in a Masters program that I am not very passionate about, a time when I wish I had the confidence to write the novel I've had kicking around in my head for the last 5 years...

I believe the Universe is conspiring...on my behalf?

My Husband has a strange request...

Yesterday, I received a text from my husband. "Write a poem today." That is all it said, and when I tried to question him about it he just said "Do it". So I did. I'm adding them here, for your reading enjoyment...I hope.

A Day in the Life...

screaming, screaming, clinging, crying - sniffle, sniffle
laughing, laughing, spinning, twirling - smirk, smirk
yelling, yelling, cursing, crying - sniffle, sniffle

a day in the life of a mother of three


Untitled
I am an adult in a child's world
all is at their bidding, all that matters is their wants and desires
I often long for adult conversation, I often wish for a job outside of this home

I am an adult in a child's world
all the world is crashing, all that matters is defending the sheet fort
I often long for time to stop, I often wish that I could keep them home forever

I am an adult in a child's world
all that matters is that I love them, all that matters is they love me
I often long for cuddles that come less frequently, I often wish to turn back time

I am an adult in a child's world
I know frustration
I know longing
I know play
I know heartache
I know love