Crazy.

I have never known anyone to do something really crazy. Like really truly flip their lives upside down, bat shit crazy.

I have known people that have gone crazy, hell! I've gone "crazy" but I'm talking about the 'grab life by the balls' crazy.

I have never known anyone to grab life by the balls.

This is subjective, I know. Everyone views life's... err, "balls" differently, so maybe I have known this kind of crazy and it is just a different language than mine... but that wouldn't make for a very good story, would it?

I have known a lot of people that have talked about times in their lives when they coulda, woulda (and usually) shoulda done something but they didn't and they always seem to regret not just risking it.
Risking it is no fucking joke. It is scary out there. But then again- it is scary right here.

But we aren't scared. It's not in our nature to be scared of things we don't know. What is happening is that my husband and I are slowly focusing in on what life means to us. I guess that means we are old now? I don't know, nor do I care. I don't feel old but I do feel my life's purpose is not as hazy as it once was. I think he feels the same way.

Over the last year or so we have had a rotating conversation about what is not working in our lives. Since we got together, I have always been on the forefront of that conversation. I think I am the type of person that can always ask for what she wants and when I get it, I am willing to adjust accordingly. I guess if I had a fear, it would be that I live my life and then look back and say "why didn't I do that?" not necessarily "what was I thinking?".

Mistakes are part of the journey- the journey is a dialogue to be written.

I want to write my own dialogue, god dammit! I don't want to do what makes sense or seems right all the time. I want to do what makes me happy and then when the happy fades, I want to pull the wheel to the left- NOT hit the brakes.
Maybe that is a design flaw of mine? Maybe I am a genius.

What's happening here is that the happy is fading. The weeks and months that my husband used to spend with us, are turning into days and hours. That is why it's fading. It isn't fading due to the fact that we have been together for 15 years (Really? Ya, really.) it is purely because what we signed up for, to have a life together, has turned into having pretty decent lives, apart.

I can visualize us staying this way. When I am alone at night and the doubt comes flooding into my mind- I tell myself it's okay the way it is. "We can keep doing this. It isn't that bad." I say.
And it's the truth. It is not that bad but just writing that kinda makes me want to throw up.
I can't imagine living a life with my family and on my death bed saying "it wasn't so bad, right?".
Although that would probably get a laugh.

Here's the things, I am a crazy person hidden in a decent persons body.
I have crazy thoughts and wild ideas and I would absolutely be doing a disservice to myself and the ones I raise, if I didn't utilize that. So what if it goes to shit? If I stay here it could go to shit. I could have an affair, I could get fat and resent my beautiful, sexy husband. I could have 20,000 postcards from all the places my husband has been to. I could become jealous and the only thing worse than getting fat, is jealousy.

I could do just fine here. I could not cheat, not get fat, wish him luck on his tours and sit in the carpool lane, raise our kids, write stories and have picnics and do all the things that I enjoy. I do so enjoy those things. I appreciate a simple life, I toured with a band for 6 years- it has taken me the last 9 years to recover maybe. If I stayed and kept doing this, we might be okay.

I don't know what will happen if I stay here. I know that over the last year when he comes home I am so tired, I barely interact with him. I have gone over and over the guilt vs. necessity of this. I have this battery that can last as long as it takes but when he walks in the door, BAM! the shit is dead. I rarely cook, I sleep way too much and because I am never alone when he is gone, I often escape during the day, solo. It's nice, I'm not going to lie. In the moment I feel justified and I am okay with it at the time. He is encouraging, which is good and bad for me. I need someone to demand more from me, I want him to get more of me and I think that is why this journey has got to be rewritten. I need more from myself and from my life. What good am I if I am too tired to share with him all we have been working on? It's nice to have downtime but when we started referring to his time at home a "vacation mode", we all knew it had to be looked at. The last time he was here I said something like "how was your visit?" I nearly slapped myself.

He doesn't have it easy. He doesn't get to see his kids grow up. He misses everything and I mean everything. He misses the swine flu and the milestone birthdays. He misses the basement flooding and our camping trip. He didn't see his son get braces, his daughter catch her first fish, the baby throw his first ball or me turn any age since I'm 30. I'm almost 40.

He doesn't have it better because he is gone, traveling the world doing what he wants for a living because he has a family that he has to send postcards to and Facetime with to watch their lips curl around their first words. He receives long text messages when I am pissed off, because he didn't have service during "the fight". We go so long without being close that when we are together it is a little like watching a stranger undress. A fine ass stranger, but stranger none the less.

It is not the worst thing, it is not the worst way to live, but if he did it forever, he too would have to proclaim "it wasn't so bad, right?".

So what to do? I have touched on this before and hinted and posted pictures of dream Airstreams and now we are biting the bullet that has been in our mouths for so long our breath smells like metal.
We are packing our things. We are selling everything that can be replaced and we are hitting the road. Like, for real. We are all on board, the ones that are in the mix are all for it and it couldn't make me more proud. My kids are willing to give up their things, their excessive amount of things to live a life together. To know that they are willing to do this is enough to call the whole thing off but as you can probably guess, we won't.

We are jumping in all the way. We are going into a world unknown, unannounced and with big ass smiles on our faces as we grab life by the balls and rewrite something for the simple fact that it needs it.

Dancin' with Miley

It seems like when everyone is talking about you, it is always a good thing.
They say that all press is good press and I used to think that sounded about right.

Lately everyone has something to say about Miley. You know the one. She is not unlike Madonna or Cher- she is a one name gal. Call it what you will, she is as famous as famous gets and if you do or don't think she deserves it, I could not possibly care any less.

I know she cares though.

I have no idea how old she is. She could be 14 or 27, although I don't think she is of drinking age because I read a piece about her and her friends in the club drinking all night. They wrote it in a taboo way, she wasn't supposed to be there. She probably shouldn't be there. I shouldn't have been there.

Miley and I are very similar. We tread a lot of the same path, her and I. You might not think so, but it is true.

See all you have to do is take away the money, the press, the celebrity Dad, the fame... the talent and well, we are the same person. We are females, growing up in this world that wants nothing good for other females.

We both walk the streets alone or with our friends. Making good and bad and insanely age appropriate and some not so age appropriate mistakes.

We both fear failure.

We both wanted nothing more than to shed our baby girl "image" and just be WHO we were supposed to be. To be an adult. We just wanted to be us.

But along the way people started telling us what we were doing wrong. They pointed out that we were failing or succeeding too much. Too little? We were labeled. Slut. Bitch. Crazy. Drug addict. Liar.

I didn't have to read about it in the paper. Thank fucking god.
But I had to read it on everyone's face.

Fast forward 100 years and you will see I found my way.
You will see that every bump and bruise I got, that was under any kind of microscope (that of a small town for me, big wide world for her), has faded into a part of who I was meant to be.
Every scar I have on the inside of my once traumatized heart or that left by my faded self loathing razor blade fight... I made it.

I'm here now because I fought to get here. I am here because I am supposed to be and no matter if you think your little girl shouldn't be watching the once (read that? "Once") Disney princess... was it on Disney? Anyway, if you don't want your little girl to watch. Turn it off.
If you don't want your daughter dressing like "that". Stop buying that shit.
If you want your kids to see an artist that is doing what she wants and making a (new) name for herself.
Turn it on.

If you want your kids to see a one time young actor morph into the next phase of her life (not unlike they will do when they hit the next phase). Turn it on.

I said it before. It is not new. She is doing things different for herself, but we all saw Britney kiss Madonna. We saw Madonna hump that bed. That was great, wasn't it? But that too saw such harsh critisism. It was met with all the fuddy-duddy bullshit that this is being met with. Cher said that she has seen more girls do it better... come on Cher! I fucking LOVE you, but why? I guess it could have been taken out of context, so I will NOT bag on Cher but I like to hope that there can be older artists out there cheering her on. Hoping for the best and maybe even helping her along the way... she's got her Mama though, so I am thinking that is all she needs.



Stop hating girls for being sexy. Let them be. If you don't want to wear a teddy bear onesie, don't. I won't be wearing one. But I would fly naked on a wrecking ball any day.