From Treasure to Trash

misslizgooden

Sometimes I wonder what will become of my things after I’m gone. Not that I have anything of value, but they are valuable to me. Will my milk glass collection end up donated and dusty on the shelves of some thrift store? Will my children each keep a piece as a memento? Will my husband be glad to finally rid our home of it?

Will my family sit around in a circle sifting through my memory box telling “mom stories” as they come across every birthday, Mother’s Day, and Christmas card they’ve ever made me? Will they find the love notes they tucked in my purse years ago that I’ve saved all this time? Will all of it be tossed in the trash bin or perhaps framed and hung on the wall?

Will they sort through my boxes of jewelry, too cheap to even be considered “costume” and disregard the…

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Sometimes It Is OK To Be Eviscerated

fight

 

She was mad
Unhinged
The angel had left the building
I laughed at first
When I heard the anger in her voice
And the way it got louder and fulminated
On a brutal assault on the very core of my being

I nervously laughed
Not because I was glibly being dismissive
But because the evisceration I was receiving
From this sweet girl
Was epic
And up until now….. I hadn’t seen that side of her

An overdue fee on late return to her Blockbuster account
Incurred by this guy
Whom she had only known for less than three weeks
The first fight had arrived
I had thought it would be over more weighty issues
But perhaps personal finance was weighty enough
Plenty had ended relationships over financial issues
We seem to have chosen to start one instead

I assured her it was accidental
She assured me that I would be castrated
I assured her that I would resolve the matter
She assured me that I would not be allowed to destroy her credit
I promised it was unintentional
She promised me it was a deal breaker

Standing in the bedroom of my friend’s apartment
Using his telephone
To return her urgent page
And found the matter to be of utmost urgency indeed
With palms sweating and knees knocking
I had never felt so alive

She was walking away
Having seen this as a warning sign
A foreshadowing
A harbinger of worse things to come
And in a way she was right
Lots more fights would come
Many mistakes would be made
But none as important as that first one
The one that taught me just what is important to her
That showed me that not only was she beautiful
But she was strong and fierce as well

We talked for a while
I listened even longer
And in the end I hung up the phone
Unsure of the outcome
And just how it was going to affect my future

But I also learned that some things were worth being eviscerated over
Sometimes it is ok to be stomped and ground into the dirt
It was ok to beg for forgiveness
To recognize mistakes
Partake in a bit of self-enlightenment
Especially if the end result was enchantment of this sort

Rules For Talking Shit #42

pict-4

We were driving across campus
Talking about kids
And growing older
As we passed the artificial turf
A ropy muscled powerhouse
Ran laps

A terrifying mass of sweat and six packs
We laughed and joked like cowards
Making sure he didn’t hear our childish one liners

I joked that I should yell at him
“Keep it up fatty!”
The thought was hilarious
Of a top athletic specimen
Being called out by two slightly aged and overweight men
Driving by in a golf cart

But rule number one…
Never talk shit while driving a slow golf cart
Especially when the target is within earshot
And more than likely will be an NFL prospect
In a couples years’ time
Doing the 100 yard dash in under ten seconds