I almost rammed an old woman with my grocery cart yesterday. Instead, I told her, “Move before I puke!” I did not apologize for being rude. After all, I had said, “Excuse me,” twice, politely begging her and her gang of old biddies to clear my escape path around the seafood counter of my local Publix. I couldn’t hold my breath any longer and felt the gag welling up from my stomach. Old Mother Hubbard had to move her ass or suffer the consequences.
Yes, my rabbit is dead. I am three months along. And so far, pregnancy hasn’t been pretty. Continue reading
Monday evening I got kicked in the face. Or did I allow myself to get kicked in the face? Or did I attack my friend’s boot with my eye socket? Personal responsibility can be rather painful.
Setting the stage:
I was at rehearsal, doing my best to portray demonic Cheryl in Evil Dead the Musical. Cheryl pretty much lives in the cellar, locked away by her brother Ash. On cue, I raised the cellar door just enough to stick my face out of the hole in the floor. I peered forward and for a split second, I saw Ash’s boot directly in front of my…holy mother of…that was my eye or eye socket or some part of my face that at one moment was perfect and then…breathe…crap that hurts…breathe dammit…don’t cry…try not to cry…fine, cry, maybe crying will make the pain stop! Continue reading
This is perhaps the most honest post I have written thus far. Yes, I’m a little scared.
Three weeks ago, nearly 1,000 U.S. Army privates stood on a field in front of me. They had just completed what for many, if not all of them, were the hardest ten weeks of their young lives. As I watched the Ft. Jackson Basic Training Graduation ceremony what struck me first was a sense of awe. There were so many of them. What hit me next was a tinge of jealousy. Here were hundreds of young men and women, pledging their hearts, minds, and bodies to a cause. I could think of very little in my life that would motivate me to run to the center of a parade field and yell my allegiance, my absolute faith and certainty.
And then as God often does, or the “Universe” as a friend recently explained her faith “Because,” she said, “God is everywhere and everything,” I was given the answer I needed. No, a deep voice from the beyond sounding remarkably like Morgan Freeman did not say, “Jodie, my child, here is your purpose.” Continue reading