Dancin' in the Kitchen
Quite a long time ago instead of taking a vacation (again) I decided to spiffy up our kitchen and get new lineoleum, a new small square table that can be a "bar table" meaning, elevate to the height of the mantel beside it, or be normal height ... and two of what I call my "fat-ass" chairs.. No need to go into why I needed those!
This is a picture of my beautiful floor called Star Twinkle Rosaborealis! The ad online said it would look nice in a toddler's bathroom!?? What???
Hell no, says I!! I want it in my kitchen ... chose the palest of pale purples for the walls, it was called "Whisper" and then found quite a unique table online (had never shopped online before but after going all over to every store in the metro area and finding nothing, I did!) that is called an "art table" with "Color Study - by Kandinsky" ... after searching for Kandinsky, I was quite surprised to find his artwork kinda bizarre for my tastes, but this was his 'color study' and it was black lacquer, high gloss finish ... NOT practical as I orig had hoped ... but who cares? Since there are very rare moments when there are more than 1 or 2 of us eating in the kitchen, I chose a small table to make more space ... for what?? for DANCING!!! Yay!!!
I don't know about most of you folks out there, but I've been married nearly 27 years and I can count the number of times my husband has danced with me on probably one hand, except those times I grab him in the kitchen so he can twirl me around with his feet firmly planted like Frankenstein ... in a good way, of course! But! to not have danced with anyone in all these years, and to really not go out dancing, I realize I have sincerely missed what used to be such a joy to me. Often I would never be able to dance much without my trusty asthma inhaler. I remember getting upset a long time ago when I'd try to dance and would go and go until I could NOT breathe much at all, then have to grab the inhaler and "shoot up" way too many times just to be able to breathe a little, or walk, or speak ... much less get back out there on the dance floor and dance! And I remember perchance that I may have been inebriated (I was much younger then, by the way!) and I threw my inhaler across the dance floor as if it was ITS fault! Sad but true...
So now I still have the inhaler(s) ... the 'rescue' and the 'steroid' ... and when people wonder why I talk so fast or crack jokes or am just a real hilarious person acting jazzy or goofy, I realize much of it is due to that asthma medicine ... probably doesn't help with the heart palpitations, either, or the tachycardia ... but whatchagonnado???
I'm pretty good for short bursts, though, and love to rock out and twirl and whirl and twist and shout ... and then there's the playing the stainless steel sink in the corner by the SW window, as I look out at the beautiful trees and birds and flowers ... or the bleakness when all the leaves have fallen and the snows come ... but thankfully, the view out that window includes some very old and very tall evergreens. So I want to say that I feel "evergreen"-ish ... I may have physical limitations that so often feel very unfair, but whenever I can, I will continue to keep keeping on and laugh and cry and just be as goofy and crazy and joke-cracking as I can be ... because perhaps one day I will be
then who will recognize me?
Truth of the matter is also, that for the first 18 years of my life I barely talked to very many people. I had a select few friends at school or neighbors who I would attempt to be myself with, but for the most part would hold back ... never quite feeling that anyone would ever recognize me if they saw me in the 'outside world' at the grocery store or movies, or wherever!? I was dumbfounded when someone WOULD say hello to me! I really was! That is what you'd call painfully shy, and I understand very well how that feels and how damaging it can be to your life and your well being. You have all these thoughts and feelings swimming around in your psyche and you just don't think anyone would really be interested in them ... or would criticize what they were ... or worst of all, would laugh at you (me) and humiliate/degrade.....
So, little by little, with baby steps (see photo ;oD) I became employed often as a person who HAD no choice but to communicate with other people ... be it coworkers or people on the phone ... customer service-type stuff, or secretarial stuff ... legislative print shop stuff where I couldn't just hide out in the corner and type like a maniac but actually had to TALK to others to get the job done ... and NOW I have worked for many years for psychiatric offices where I am the first contact person patients, old and new, come into contact with ... and I am amazed when I think about how shy and quiet I used to be ... and I even get downright cranky sometimes and tell 'em like it is ... do NOT take advantage of me nor the doctors ... not if I can help it! We want to treat you well and honestly and it'd be very nice to be treated in kind.
On the comcast sign-in page today I saw "jobs that have died in 2012" and among them were "secretarial/typist" jobs ... hmmmmm, that made me very sad, sort of ... it spoke of how young children learn to type (probably in the womb if I know technology...which I choose not to know much about it any more ... can't keep up with the laundry hardly much less the latest phone or iWipe!) But then I remembered when I became a "computer typesetter" for what essentially was the State's legislative "junk mail" as I referred to it ... or the House and Senate nightly "Journals" ... and realized that computer typesetting was taking the place of the REAL typesetters' cold type ... and I figured, well, Karma and all, what goes round comes round.
I think in the end what I will be using with my years of experience as a communicator and transcriptionist may very well be writing my OWN words more and more, and others' words less and less. Send out prayers and affirmations and cross your fingers and toes there for me, will ya, please? I will be turning 61 soon and we never know how long 'til the big "goodbye" takes place in anyone's life..........all the 'keep putting offs' become the NADA, never happen, no way, no how, kaput, bye bye now.........you catch my whiff!
I have about 10 journals which are partially finished. I have made a commitment to write in them 'nearly' everyday. "Everyday" hasn't worked out, but the 'nearly' part is doing pretty good!
I figure: What if I could never talk again due to whatever reason??? I would want to write or type my thoughts, dreams, goals, reasonings, understandings...and then, what if I could never move my hands or fingers ever again? hmmmmm, I'd better work on my mental telepathy big time, eh?
I like reading autobiographies about people who have overcome diversities and have done some much more amazing shit than I ever have!!! Then I try not to lay a guilt trip on myself but realize, hey, Kylita, SisSTAR of the C.O.D.E. (yes, remember that? "Childless orphaned daughters of the evolution" ... like being "up to CODE" ... who knows what in hell I meant by that CODE thingy, it made and still makes sense to me!
And I like my:
"K.L.H. - 'keep laughin' honey!'"
my initials thing I came up with...I've even urged a few friends to come up with their own anagram for their initials (is that the correct usage of anagram?? can I be a 'writer' without knowing the answer to that?)
Anyway, I tend to be a Facebookie addict and once I glommed onto that crazy place, I have let my blog go by the wayside. Coming back from time to time is similar to writing nearly everyday ... and once I get started (as you can see, if you CAN see after reading all this nonsense!) my fingers just keep connecting with the synapses of the brain and, sproing!!! out pour the words, in hopes that there's some cohesiveness to them ... some main theme here that isn't all hodge podge or, a word I really love ... the theme, if there was one, isn't getting sucked into the
MAELSTROM of it all!!
I'll try to find a photo of my awesome Color Study art table by Kandinsky ... all I know is that this is MY kitchen ... not my mother's kitchen like it would be had I never changed an iota of it ... and much as I loved/love my mother, we had very different tastes in decor, as she would very often say to me when visiting, "Well, this CERtainly looks like YOU" ... or "HAH! Where'd you come up with that one!???" Sorry, Mom, if I didn't try and match hand knitted afghans of neon greens and yellows with a red checkered pillow and blue-green curtains ... or perhaps a puke-ish colored kitchen floor (I kept some underneath the cupboard below the sink so I could show people who never KNEW what vomitous stuff someone ELSE picked out for her...guess she figured I would pick out purple or something!)
All that I've typed out so far has been inspired by my dancing in the kitchen picture! I don't know why or how, but it just has been!
So, my darling Bloggie Souls!!! Get your buns out there on ANY dance floor and shake 'em ... jump, jive and stay alive! Groove to the mood and fling yourself to and fro (what is 'to and fro' anyway?) ... do the twist, the shake, the mashed potato, the monkey, the jerk, the slow slide into town! Just keep dancing! Don't let anyone ... not even the most loving of non-dancer husbands ... take your dance moves away from you!!! You know that old saying: "Use it or lose it!" It is TRUE! It is very, very true! I can't imagine dancing on a dance floor in a bar or at a wedding or much of anywhere ... but in my kitchen! Man, I can boogie down! In my living room, I am a legend (thank you Annie Lennox ... don't remember song title with that similar lyric in it!) I still sing nearly everyday (there's that nearly again) ... and I may not be able to hit those first soprano high notes too well any more, but I can screech 'em out if I wanna!
Has any of you sang in choir ... the Hallelujah Chorus by Handel??? I sang the first soprano part and loved it so much! Esp those real screech owl high octane...oops! octave! I sang a solo at church sometime ages ago "O Holy Night" and I have to admit, it was very beautiful, I know because others told me so ... and now I cry when I can't do very well singing those songs. But I'm not going to stop singing ... or dancing ... or laughing or crying or joking and CARING about how others are ... I am going to leave you now with my little prayer or affirmation or whatever, somewhat pieced together from various Buddhist writers that I've admired, and then I'll try and find my Color Study table ... and that is where I love to have my face-to-face conversations with dear friends ... it's my party table ... either "Kylita, party of one" or "come on over and let's have a tea party!" place....................Blessings to you...
May you be held in deepest compassion
May your suffering and pain find ease
May you be at peace
May you live in joy...........Compassion, Ease and Joy and Peace...Always xoxo
Thanks...now I gotta get off this computer and go dance on my Star Twinkle Rosaborealis!
Nightie night, Sweethearts!
Keep Laughin' Honey!