Sundown - Teri Johannes

Coming out of a bout with neck/back/Fibromyalgia episode. I remind myself of the many years I was up to no-good, and seemingly got away with it. Not that the two are linked. But I do think head-banging while slugging down screwdrivers in a nightclub, night-after-night, may very well play a role in the neck/back thing. Lesson to the young; skip the headbanging(It is just a form of whip-lash). It doesn’t hurt when you’re young, but eventually we all pay the piper!

And on a lighter note, I stumbled on to some more foolish, self-indulgent quizzes. Take them if you like. And leave your answers if you feel like it.

Hope all is well in your world!
Love,
3T

Your Power Color Is Lime Green

At Your Highest: You are adventurous, witty, and a visionary. At Your Lowest: You feel misunderstood, like you don’t fit in. In Love: You have a tough exterior, but can be very dedicated. How You’re Attractive: Your self-awareness and confidence lights up a room. Your Eternal Question: “What else do I need in my life?”

And who doesn’t love flowers?

You Are a Blue Flower

A blue flower tends to represent peace, openness, and balance. At times, you are very delicate like a cornflower. And at other times, you are wise like an iris. And more than you wish, you’re a little cold, like a blue hydrangea.

Your Birth Month is September

Tolerant and inspirational, you are wise beyond your years. You are universally sympathetic and a great humanitarian. Your soul reflects: Devotion, light, and love Your gemstone: Sapphire Your flower: Morning Glory Your colors: Brown and deep blue

Your Aura is Blue

Spiritual and calm, you tend to live a quiet but enriching life. You are very giving of yourself. And it’s hard for you to let go of relationships. The purpose of your life: showing love to other people Famous blues include: Angelina Jolie, the Dali Lama, Oprah Careers for you to try: Psychic, Peace Corps Volunteer, Counselor

That was fun!

Man was not meant to live in 110-plus degree weather! Add high humidity, and you have a recipe for grouchy, irritable everyone! It’s time for Mother Nature to shit or get off the pot! In other words, bring on the storms! They’re entertaining anyway. The kids are bored and they have been home exactly two days. That didn’t take long.

We have a case of cabin fever. And probably a bit of a letdown for Riley and Tay, since they just got back from a two-week, busy vacation in Washington. Well the countdown begins. Two weeks and we’re headed for the San Diego beaches for relief.

Until then, the monsoons would be a nice diversion. And maybe bring the heat down to a more bearable 102?

Tomorrow I’ll drag the rugrats to the Mall with me, and start a little school clothes shopping. Yes, more shorts and t-shirts. I’m whining, I know. This is the time of year when it even gets to me. I love Arizona’s mild winters, and warm sun. But right before monsoons, when the humidity is up, even I start to wonder if we’ve moved into Hell.

Love,

3T

Photo by Teri Johannes

WOW. So this is my blog. One I wrote at religously for well over a year. And then down to a couple times a week. To now, where weeks will go by with no new words or thoughts added. I’d like to say it was due to something in life that actually kept me from my keyboard. But that isn’t the case, entirely.

I joke often about my imaginary ADD. (I don’t think I have it) But like the impatient and easily distracted girl of my youth, some things don’t seem to change. Something else has captured my free time to the point of obsession. Much like this weblog did for well over a year. Although both past and present obsessions have one thing in common. They serve as an opportunity to express myself creatively in small ways. Being creative I believe adds color to everyone’s world.

Being creative appeals to our souls. Whether thru drawing, painting, sculpture, words or photos.

Growing up, I was never one of those students who took an art class to bring their grade point up a little when trigonometry took it down, a little too far. Art classes would have taken my GPA to never-before-seen new lows. (Much like French did my last semester) Drawing a completely round circle was a skill I never could quite master. I just assumed I wasn’t a person with any artistic creativity. Sticking it in the same category that singing was under. (My rendition of Barry Manilow’s “Feelings” at age 13, was one none of my family could forget, but that all wished they could.)

My obsession of late has been photography as well as my little place on the web to show my latest results at; Flickr. Now my mind wanders to just about everything around me visually. Would that make an interesting photo? Or how about this unique angle? Or how that gorgeous rose or my adorable rugrats and their day-to-day activities would translate thru the lens. And every now and then something beautiful comes of it. And this feeds a part of my soul.

I am in no way suggesting my obsessions- or creative outlets- are something that I’m exceptional at. I may never be an Ansel Adams or John Steinbeck. But what I’ve finally learned is that it doesn’t really matter. There’s something to that cliche line, “personal best.” At least for me there is.

I would suggest that those who enjoy photography look into Flickr as a place to not only store your digital images, but receive feedback as well. Just like our many blogging “communities” Flickr has a wide range of photographers; from the novice amateur, to the professional photographer. Just as blogging fed my creative side, so is photography.

Now my goal is to find a way to make time for both my loves, old and new. Balance. Always just a little bit out of my reach, but my never ending pursuit.

Since my previous post, I have spent all spare time downloading and editing the photos from our trip to Niagara Falls and New York City. Throwing out the photos that didn’t quite turn out and editing those that just might communicate what I’ve seen thru the lens. Behind those photos lie three full memory cards waiting for me to do something with them.

And of course I stare at my sparsely updated weblog, wistfully as one would a beloved past lover. In between my creative pursuits lies the day-to-day life of a wife and mother. I have got to get a handle on this whole “balance” thing. I refuse to give up on blogging or learning more about photography. My wonderful and supportive husband just bought me my first SLR digital camera. OK, he bought it for me like three or four months ago. But that complicated big thing scares me, and I’ve yet to take it out and snap some photos with it. I’ll get there, eventually.

I’ll continue to strive for balance and organizing my time, so I can entertain both loves, and be an attentive wife and mother as well.

To all the fathers:

I hope all the fathers out there had a relaxing and fun day yesterday. Your job as Dad is important, and should be acknowledged as such. And to the unsung heroes, those step-dads who quietly take their role seriously, filling in any gaps they see; and rarely receiving the appropriate acknowledgement, I hope you received some of the honor due you. And say a prayer of “Thanks” for the special man that holds that role in my children’s lives. What you bring to their lives, no other person on earth could. I’m humbled that you chose to take on that role and continue to do so, with love and grace.

Love,

3T

Kevin and I made it back from NYC in two pieces. (One piece each) Although our feet from the sightseeing have taken beatings of a lifetime. (Which is logical, since I see this vacation as the trip of a lifetime. I’m a bona fide homebody, so for me it is/was.)

Never have I walked as many miles as I did this trip. By the way, Carrie from Sex and the City? Lied! There is no way in hell that fantastic bitch walked as much in HIGH HEELS as portrayed on the show. BUT this bitch walked IN HEELS a total of at least 30 blocks to the harbor and back to our hotel for the sunset cruise around Manhattan on just one evening. Of course while applying bandages to my red, angry and blistered covered feet, I realized just how stupid that was.

Except for one Broadway Musical, (Momma Mia) the heels were left in the suitcase for the remainder of our trip. Number one recommendation, if you plan a trip to Manhattan ladies, leave the heels at home! Find a pair of comfortable and as-fashionable-as-you-can pair of walking shoes, and make them your best friend. There will still be blisters with the walking shoes, but you won’t feel nearly as stupid at the end of the day…

I want to capture as much of this trip as I can in words here, for the memories. So this will be the first of several posts dealing only with the East Coast and my perceptions. And well over 500 photos to download, recording our journey that spanned from Buffalo, New York, to see Kevin’s family and Niagara Falls, to the many neighborhoods that make up Manhattan.

By the time we walked into our front door late yesterday, only one thing mattered. We were home. No noise, no pollution, no honking cab drivers, no humid drenched sweat, that even the breezes provided no relief from. Just our lovely 105 degree DRY heat, enough square footage to feel like a mansion, and our angry cat, who couldn’t decide if he wanted to stay mad, or snuggle up to us for petting.

Love,

3T

Since I have our NYC trip coming up in a mere week, it is time for me to try and put the psycho-babble on the shelf for a while. I’ve no doubt it will be there when I return. So for a little light fun, I stole this quiz from usedtobeme. Obviously this one is for the women out there. Sorry guys.

If you take it, leave me your answers, so I know who to ask out.

I’m Diana, which ambiguous dyke are you? Quiz by Turi.

Love,

3T

Boundaries can be defined as “things that indicate bounds or limits; a limited or bounding line.” They’re used to establish property lines and psychologists over the years have used them quite a bit with their patients who haven’t learned how to establish personal boundaries.

For an example, (This is hard for me, I’m writing off the top of my head, and since I have been very poor in the area of establishing boundaries, it’s not easy coming up with an example) I’m going to pull from my own life. An example of a boundary would be setting up plans to do something fun, and then having your Mom say, “No I think we should do this.” And then I would dutifully say OK, usually taking the heat from my husband for crumbling under my authoritarian mother’s bossiness.

I have spent my life, (the part I was sober anyway) trying to please others. At all costs. The cost was usually mine in the form of self-esteem, since I didn’t stand up for my boundaries. As well as the bad feelings, hurt, or etc. because someone so thoughtlessly trampled on my boundary, which I thought was perfectly clear. Usually the would-be offender will never know: number one, that they trampled all over my boundary, and number two, that it hurt me as deeply as it did. They will be weeded out of my life, softly, subtly, and never know of the hurt feelings they may have unwittingly caused. That’s more so today than in the past.

In the past, I would ignore it and ignore it and ignore it, until I blew my stack, much like I did yesterday. Of course, if you cannot tell by my writing, I can be one brutal bitch when I feel I have been wronged. I have almost unconsciously hunted down each person’s triggers, or hot spots. You know, the areas in someone’s life where there is residual pain, and I go for it like it was their jugular. Of course the minute I do that, my point on boundaries is lost in the fray. I am no longer an injured party, but the attacker; the victim has no idea why they are being attacked so brutally. (Another family-of-origin trait)

I want to change this unhealthy behavior, but life-long habits learned within our families of origin are not easy to conquer. To understand that, I’ll use an example from my childhood.

There is a family dynamic that to this day, not only do any of us question, but it continues unfettered by anything resembling healthy and real:

Ok, the house is in a shambles, and company will be there in three hours. Thus begins the ranting and raving. “WHY hasn’t this been done? Who spilled sugar on the floor?” A fight breaks out between my parents, name-calling, and shame based-end-of-the-world screaming, we scatter to our rooms, not wanting to be noticed and pulled into the fray. We were certain this is it. (We were kids, I’m not sure any of us knew what “it” was. But it was scary) Somehow miraculously, the house becomes company ready, although the fight still festers and there is yelling and screaming throughout the process of making house company ready.

Then the doorbell rings. Company enters the home to see nothing but smiling faces, jokes, laughter, hugs and kisses. I have come to dub this behavior, The Norman Rockwell Syndrome. Compliments are made on what “well behaved children my young parents have. What a happy family we are!” If I didn’t know better I would believe we invented the Norman Rockwell Syndrome. But I’ve no doubt this is a common occurrence throughout households.

In fact, in the few cases where I have been the guest; instead of allowing for Norman Rockwell syndrome to take over, the hosts continue with their troubles.  I now label them rude, inconsiderate, and mark them off of my social calendar. Which is healthier? I haven’t a clue. Do you?

Back to boundaries. For a long time now, I thought I had set up boundaries, because (The X-man withstanding) they were not being trampled on at such a pace where I found myself emotionally hurt, discouraged, and depressed. (Of course I moved a thousand miles away from my family too)

Life was good. Of course what I had really done is shut myself away from most of the world. Developed a hard shell where strangers were concerned, and chalked friends up as easy come easy go. I never judged their behavior, and they didn’t mine. If they did, they were history.

I know I have some more work to do on boundaries. A LOT more work on boundaries. But as far as cutting people out, I’m trying to re-think my attitude. Suffice it to say, if someone has proven time and time again, that they are indeed toxic and detrimental to my psychological and physical well being, they will or have been cut out of my life.

What I want, what I strive for is balance and peace. With love and some joy sprinkled in there along the way. I don’t like chaos, or loud chaos, or changes in plans that I feel were changed solely because someone wanted to stamp their thumbprint on the plans. I have a family FULL of thumbprint stampers that usually will have me emotionally exhausted by the time I hit my front door. WHY? Because I will go along with others’ plans. It’s called going with the flow, motivated by wanting to please others. But when you have four different people saying four different things, and then a couple of them look at you for your input I literally want to jump out of my skin. Or jump on an airplane back to my safe fortress.

Yes I have some work to do psychologically. I don’t know if smoking was something that helped me avoid owning my shit, or just helped me bury my feelings...All I know now, is there is all this junk I haven’t worked through that seems to be bubbling up all over the place.

And this is my intent for the time being, for this blog. I’ll definitely sprinkle in some fun times that I have with my husband and my kids. But overall, I would say this blog will be filled with more than a little psycho-babble.

I have to admit, yesterday some family turmoil and my ensuing emotional breakdown caused me to slip up and buy a pack of cigarettes. Yes I sat and smoked myself into a nice comfortably numb zombie state. By the way, after 6 weeks, they taste like a litter box. The rest of the pack was broken to pieces, and I’m back on the smoke-free bandwagon. I quit for me, and I’m sure as Hell not going to let “family-antics” ruin it for me. Whatever it takes to be smoke-free, I’m committed to that path. Even if it means avoiding certain family members indefinitely.

Well, whoever may or may not be left at the end this, thanks for reading.

3T

Could you pick it up for me please? I think I might need at least one nerve for the next PMS/ everyone’s out to destroy Teri” weeks. I mean I am so depleted of emotion, energy or even the will to fight back. Fighting back meaning just trying to put order from chaos, and feel some sense of control over my world.

Nononono...we can’t have that. When did I allow so many different people to stomp all over and muddy up my world? My head is still spinning from yesterday. A day planned and constructed I’m sure at the very center of the pit of Hell. If EVER I wanted a cigarette, or 20, it was yesterday!

And never, ever, ever is it strangers that have that kind of power over us. Nononono, it is those we profess to love, or those we might have thought we loved at one time or another, or then again maybe a tad karmic retribution. Who the Hell knows. I know I don’t. 

What I do know damn it; is do not try and take over my home with your chaos, do not call me on the phone to play games that have nothing to do with me. You need props for your fucking marriage, find a new one! I will not be the dupe in the middle, having my emotions and heart ripped apart because your playing “who’s in control of this marriage. Or is it, I’ll get you bitch, for some past perceived hurt, that I’m sure I committed;(but come ON how long are you going
to hold a grudge from when I was three) but isn’t that called revenge? And didn’t YOUR God state, “Revenge is mine, sayeth the Lord?” Or was that only in my Bible?? Eh. either/or doesn’t really matter at this point. Suffice it to say, my already loathing of the telephone has grown leaps and bounds as of yesterday.

And as for the chaotic control I’ve allowed you X-man, those days are done! I have done anything possible to keep the peace, for the sake of the children, to the point that would raise most anyone’s eyebrows. You can no longer change plans half hour before you’re supposed to pick them up or drop them off. I have bent as far back as my herniated back will allow for; IT WILL NOT SNAP. Instead, YOU WILL.

I have allowed you visitation during MY WEEK with the kids because well, in your own words, I LOVE MY KIDS! I’m wondering where that self-sacrificing love was when you wanted to skip out on Tayler’s violin concert last night, so you could go coach a basket-ball team. Never mind it is your week with the kids, I took them overnight your week, because I didn’t want your fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants decisions to affect their sleep; when you drag them out of bed at 4:00 AM to just drop them back at my house so you could go-to-work the early shift. A shift you volunteered for, so you could coach basketball earlier. WAIT, what you said to me on the phone 15 minutes before you were supposed to BE HERE was for her violin concert. Tell me my petite X-man, was that a lie, or just a convenient oversight on your part? And then half hour before you pick them up the next day, you call to say, you’ll pick them up AFTER the concert. ALL of this could have been avoided. It’s called planning ahead, you know that thing I have always done for you.

Changes in scheduling, I give you literally months and months advance notice. WHY? Because WE PLAN OUR LIVES. We do not fly by the seat of our pants inconveniencing absolutely EVERYONE around us, and then giggle about it, like it’s cute! That may have flown when you were 18-19, but your 50 now little man. It’s time to grow the Hell up!

You spent 16 years of marriage obsessed with basketball. Our home literally turned upside-down at all times if you could get our son on a team to play out your fantasies of stardom. You infected our/MY first born with that obsession so much so, that he still has his eyes on playing basketball, and not what is important, his college education. Your daughter plays because she is intuitive and very aware of your obsession. And every little girl wants the adoration of Daddy. Even such a childish, moronic one as yourself. By the way, she’ll never be NBA either, dipshit.

This is my way of saying someone pass me a pill of Fuckitoll, cuz my world, home, plans and emotions are being reclaimed. IF, (and you know who you are) you think you will fuck with my plans, life, emotions, or anything else that is under my supervision, I suggest you think twice and pull back. This WILL BE your ONLY and LAST warning. My home is now my fortress. Fuck with it, and there will be consequences. Not a threat, no more warnings, just actions, that I guarantee will affect YOUR world.

With All my love,

3T

PS. Damn that felt good!