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February 13, 2013 / Spoon Feeding Silver Linings


I’ve got to write! I’ve got to write!

This is my new year’s resolution, well part of my “New Year’s To Do List”.  Write, paint, create, drink more coffee, do more Sudoku, read more, read more National Geographic.

Well, it is now February, and I have officially done the opposite.  While most are tapering off , or completely peaking, I am just starting.  It’s backwards, and definitely laziness at it’s best, however I’m going to spin it by saying what I say to my patients about flossing everyday, ” You can’t move mountains, quit smoking (for most), or start flossing in a day.  One step and one hill at a time.”

In my defense, I’ve been spending more time trying to figure out why I don’t want to exercise, or why I don’t want to do ANYTHING on my “To Do List” once I’m done with work. I have come up with a few excuses, I mean explanations as to why.

     1. I’m emotionally drained from seating, treating, listening, being a therapist,  scheduling/ insurance pro, along with sharpening instruments and getting bit or spit upon by my patients.

     2. Co-worker drama. (easiest excuse, but very validated in my mind)

    3. Lack of newness in general, especially in music (Thanks to a good audio engineer friend of mine he keeps me updated, its just a matter of me responding and listening, however go back to the laziness comment equaling the lacking.)

   4. I use all of my energy being a clinician I forget that I need to be a person, active in society, let alone in my own life.

So, those are the explanations (ahem excuses), but none of them have gotten me to write.  Silver lining today = Kimbra and her album “Vows”

More silver lining equations to come!




June 7, 2012 / Spoon Feeding Silver Linings

When I Alphabetize, Logic Comes After Love

Amist the cold rain that stings and settles deep into the marrow, some how it reminds me of smiling.  It makes me wonder as well,  why I “need” you, but insist that you “need” me.  That I am the package.  That you can’t live without me.  I guess it is I who “need” you, your silence for me to fill with hope.  I want you to “need” me, not yearn me, not lust, “need”.  It’s a tall order, this I know.  Most likely one that won’t be served.  But, there is that craving that can’t be sustained.

I thrive upon drunken calls or even those just, slightly uninhibited words flowing from something more south than your brain and north of your waist. I thrive upon those fantasies of far off places, where I am the only thing worth waking up for.  I question if I am.  I know I’m not what you need all the time, always want around or even will love forever.  But, I relish in the now. “There are highs and lows, the roller coaster flows.”

But, for this feeling, I risk it all.  I always risk my heart, it’s mine, and sometimes I like to believe, it’s unbreakable. I may question why, never regreting, but yet, never with a solid answer, just a feeling.

With you logic comes after love.

May 28, 2012 / Spoon Feeding Silver Linings

How many licks DOES it take?

Since January, I have now filled a few empty slots that I had last posting.  First off, my muse Miss Delia is back stateside.  Second, I now have a full time dental hygiene job.    The tides have shifted.

Focusing though on the logistics of anthropological questioning that has been more and more prominent since my acquisition of my new job. Last week, I reflected upon my chipped, unprofessional, haggard, week old nail polish, windows down dried hair,  and quirky facts about teeth and wild life and wondered, what DO my patients think of me?  Even more so, what do they think of me when I ramble on about the harmful bacteria of the oral cavity that, once in their blood stream can cause heart disease, heart attacks, strokes, arterial plaques, thrombosis, contribute to their diabetes, and even in some cases could be the cause of premature births.  Do they take me serious?  Am I actually making an impact?  Am I making them feel comfortable, and how?  With my crazy antics and my down to earth flossing philosophy?

All I do know is, I feel their jittery anticipation, their stories, their anxiety.  I also know that by the end of the day I’m emotionally exhausted.  I’m using all of my energy on my patients, not the physical labor, but the emotional strain that is there upon me as I ease their pain/ anxiety.  Maybe, I shouldn’t be so active in their emotional financial journeys, stories of their family member fall outs, or medical hurdles.  But, even more so why do they share these things with a complete stranger?  Why do they tell me, for that matter, very personal stories in an hour or less?

What is it in human nature that we feel compelled to share intimate thoughts/ feelings/ stories with complete strangers?  Do we feel less judged?  Do we feel more safe that they don’t know our whole story and completely can respond unbiased?

Personally, I know I feel more at ease after a stressful/ emotionally charged day after surrounding myself around complete strangers.  I call it “people buzzing”.  I talk to strangers and get their stories and don’t think any more of it.  Maybe, I just enjoy being around people that I don’t have to “fix” or analyze.  Or maybe it’s just the extrovert in me.  Or maybe that’s just what “we” crave as humans.

No matter what it is, I struggle in knowing what is best for both me and my patients.  Do I stay involved and go home exhausted because I was an active listener in their life.  Or, do I reserve my “abilities” and save myself the emotional taxes of 40 hours a week being a hygiene therapist?

So, to quote from a familiar wise old owl.

“How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?”

The word may never know.

January 23, 2012 / Spoon Feeding Silver Linings

Spoon Feeding Synapses with CAKE

It’s been awhile is an understatement.

I’m still in the same predicament as I was before the hiatus, but currently more “vocal” about it.  Still looking for a consistent dental hygiene job, still not wanting to join the workforce, still single, still living at home. ( the latter isn’t so much of a gripe)  So, the question that has been posed by myself and my dear friend Delia is: “Why haven’t you written?”  I informed my muse, Delia, it was due to her current residency being  in Ghana, Africa, as well as travelling all about Europe on tantalizing adventures. (She’s got some great stories from her treks at, yes a plug, but a more than willing one.)

But, really I think it’s been justly associated to the season.  The season of staying indoors with could weather abound which consists of  honestly, me moping, thus sucking any of my creative juices dry.   All in all, it’s my own fault.

So, to fix this funk, I thought a trip to San Diego would be just the cure I needed.  It wasn’t.  I realized even in a mild even temperature, almost always sunny, new, Pacific, mountainous environment, nothing changed.  Yeah sure, I learned that elephant teeth weigh 11 pounds and that they get 6 sets in their life (courtsey to the San Diego Zoo).  Yeah sure, I found some great shopping places where prices were incredible and outfits were quite up my alley (Pacific Beach).  Yeah sure, I met new people and had a great time (Breanna, Ryan, Oz, and DJ).  But, it didn’t change the way I was feeling.  So, in my last and desperate attempt in trying to find my funk, I decided to jazz up my iPod/iTunes collection.  It worked like a charm.

Some Sleigh Bells, Blind Pilot, and Matt and Kim were purchased. And it was like veggies for a vegetarian, my mind became crisp and fresh.  To reference a Mims album, I have found that “Music Is My Savior”.  Yes, I know it’s an odd reference.  I DO listen to lots of different music and it just so happens, that one of my favorite “booty poppin'” songs (Like This) is on that album .  But, back to the topic, this is not a new revelation,  music reviving my soul,  I just guess I’ve always had access to various people in college, aquaintences, boyfriends, and websites that shared their favorite melodies and jams with me.   Yes,  I took it for granted. Along with that and with the unfortunate loss of my PC,  in late November (RIP),  I have not even had Spotify to keep me and my synapses happy.

So, this being a mere shared revelation, update, and simply me getting back on the horse, this is defiantly a silver lining  hiding in the clouds I must spoon feed.   Tonight, “Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps” I’ll go”The Distance” to feed it some CAKE.

November 28, 2011 / Spoon Feeding Silver Linings

“Like A Warm Pair of Jeans That Fit Just Right” -Bonepony

It’s a rhythm. It’s a lyric.  It’s a tune.

I just want to say thank you.

This is a shout out to all of my exes, almost exes, those of whom we only went on a few dates, the best guy friends, and even the guys that would be associated with the word hate.

This isn’t sarcastic or fake.

All I want to do is say thank you.

Thank you for opening my soul to your musical muses, the choruses that  you cried to, the songs that you sang to, the classic rock trivia you transmitted, the songs that you jammed to when you jogged, joined the forces, jotted thoughts, the ones  that informed me of your intentions, and the ones that made me fall.

I may not need you or remember your name at all.

But I just want to thank you.

For reminding me that a song can be the medicine of a mediocre day, a savior in the solitude, or  ” a warm pair of jeans that fit just right”.

November 9, 2011 / Spoon Feeding Silver Linings

Being a Boomerang: Throwing Takes Technique….and Chemistry

So this post has been sitting around molding ( I know it’s been awhile)and originally was going to be about cakes (of the breakfast origin) and how I taught a good friend of mine to enjoy cooking breakfast and baking at the ripe old age of….. 20.  But, with the ying comes the yang.  And for a silver lining to appear it needs to be seen against a contrasting color. So the cake post, is not being served now, if ever, but as all floundered attempts do, it leads me to another strand of ideas.

As my friend Delia wrote about time, I will as well.  Mine won’t be about rejuvenation, rest and home.  It will be of reflection, recollection and hopefully, eventually recovery, and how a friend, multiple friends, a figment of a friend, can help.  But to start, and to understand, first MY definition of a friend/friendship. To each his/her own on this definition.

Friends are friends, and once that status has been made it should be hard to break.  For me, I relate the word friendship to man’s best friend… the dog  (I told you I would make leaps, and if you are questioning when this was discussed please read the “About”.  It will give you insigt to the rest of the organization and lack there of, for the rest of this post),with first the word, loyalty.  Your dog doesn’t always understand you and you may not always understand them, but as TIME goes on you learn what certain signals mean.  They are always there, wagging their tails, snuggling up with you to watch Criminal Minds, and then following you to your room and insisting on sleeping with you because they know you are scared out of your skin.  This is the same with friends. You each have ticks, needs, wants, dreams, fears, ups, downs, excitement, and disappointments.  Most often, these feelings are not shared by words, but sometimes by how fast a text comes in, the rise in the other’s voice, a hug that lasts 1 millisecond longer than normal, throwing one self under the bus to stick up for the other, or having humility and admitting the other was right.  It’s done by feelings, energy transfer.  Both of which can/should seem innate and all natural.  That, that is friendship.

I’ve been lucky enough to have strong relationships in my life both, romantic ones and ones of friendship.  All of which have their ecstatic elation and the inevitable emotional pit fires, with varying stages of elation and pit fire.  I’ve also been lucky to have quite a few big ol’ let downs.  (I mean that IS life isn’t it, full of ups and downs and twists and turns?)  The most recent being someone that well, thought I was making a project of them.

Now, I love projects as much as the next DIY, T shirt scarf making, electrical spool transforming, and lampshade vamping girl (all of which I am/have done/doing), however to make a person a project is not my thing anymore.   Yes, I said anymore.  I used to.  But then I realized that I was putting more of myself into the “project” than what I was getting out.  I know this sounds selfish, but there always is a reciprocation factor, unless otherwise formally stated prior.  So, as clarification I’m not the Grinch with a heart 3 times too small, it’s my heart that’s too big sometimes.  I care about people (reference above for loyalty explanation), and if  I care enough to date you, or hell, go on multiple dates with you, and even speak to you after a freak out moment over the summer (with crying/yelling/telling me I was one of the most vital things in life), and yet treating me like I’m a boomerang that you throw ONLY when you are pissed.  I’d say that’s loyalty, on my end, as well as too much tolerance aannnnnddd stupidity (I’ll admit).

But, moving along to the most fresh let down and scary part. As much as he “needed” me for social guidance and self discovery (in his terms), I needed him for social outings.   I’m a social butterfly, plain and simple.  Not a monarch, those bastards blend in too much, but one of those breath taking, once and a life time finds, solely in relation to my social personality, not my looks or any sort of ultra egocentric all about me kind of way.  I was just born to be naturally good with people.  And in returning to rural Indiana from college and a college town is a big ol shocker.  No simple driving to where ever, no getting a cab home (I’d be more likely to be picked up by an International or John Deere combine this time of the year), no simply calling someone up to hang out.  All of it has to be planned with sleeping arrangements made. Because, driving a ways after even  just one adult beverage on country roads past midnight, is ASKING to have some sort of creature walk out in front of my vehicle.  LOTS of things can happen when you increase drive time, decrease hours of sleep, drive a car with a low body, and live out in a rotating corn/bean field.  Butttt, shifting back to the subject at hand.

In empowering ( and maybe using) him, I put a lot of me into the equation.   As an investor, (say on a house) that’s inevitable, whether you lose all your money or it exponentially increases.  The scary part is the loans and the collateral you put down. In giving my self or parts of me emotionally to help him or to open him/ our “relationship” up, it gave him a map of my strengths and weaknesses.  Thus he used those as leverage to get what he wanted.  I think he just wanted someone always there for him. Someone to test. Which I can’t blame him for, we all want that person that we know we can piss off over and over again and know they will still care.  But, good report and years and years and years and.. a lot of situations have to be accrued before, I’ll always come back, like a boomerang.


I guess it’s like me going running.  I won’t be thrown into the air, and expected to return.  Not always.  Throwing boomerangs takes practice, just the right chemistry and technique between both entities for indefinite returning to happen.


September 18, 2011 / Spoon Feeding Silver Linings

A Balancing Act


With the seemingly physicality of my silver lining in a box, waiting  to potentially be sent into the galaxy to  explode into the lights of the sky, I wait next to it.  I wait as the scales of time balance knowing and believing. It’s a fragile and sensitive balance.  If the right time isn’t alloted and those balances slide one way, more than the other, my silver lining could either explode into the night sky or float fancifully around my being.

I wait due to hesitation.  Hesitation that I won’t be patient enough to allow for the balance of knowing and believing.  Hesitation that I might rush things, and send my silver lining off into the black hole of space.

I have to wait.  I have to be patient.