Sunday Mourning

I will, as promised, be posting updates on Thanksgivings II and III as soon as I can. But for now, something more important needs to be expressed.

Yesterday, on at least two occasions, I thought to myself "I am a superhero". More on that in forthcoming posts. Seemingly on cue, life stepped in to put me in my place. I was enjoying a lazy Sunday in sweatpants, cleaning up the aftermath of a small party and decking the halls. Just as I started to decorate my Christmas tree, my mom called me to let me know that Skip just died.

Skip was one of the owners of the stable where my horse lives. He has been an important part of my life since I started riding in 1997, but for the last four years or so, I have only seen him once or twice a year. I suppose he was more like an extra grandfather than anything. He taught me much of what I know about horsemanship, and was always able to lighten a mood, no matter what the situation. He was the perfect balance to my very intense (but also very dear) riding teacher. Every now and then he would sidle up to me while I was riding, slip some money into my hand, and tell me not to spend it all in one place. Every time we parted ways, even toward the end while the dementia was taking its hold, he made me promise to "call if you get lonesome!" Thinking back, I'm not sure if I ever took him up on that. So many things we could have talked about. So many times he could have cheered me up when I was struggling, if only I'd taken his advice and called.

Skip used to be a bull rider and a rodeo clown, so at some point in his life he'd busted about every bone in his body. He looked the part of a grizzled farmhand, but his personality was one hundred percent inviting. To everyone. Always.

After I got the call, I struggled to react. I heaved one of those choking breaths that comes at the end of a really good cry, but no tears came. So I kept on decorating my tree, phasing in and out of thinking about Skippy, and starting this post in my head. Now I'm writing it, and have squeezed out a couple of tears. But this doesn't feel like any of the other times I've lost loved ones, and I'm trying to piece together why that is. I have gotten the news over the phone before, so that can't be it. I've dealt with the expected-yet-never-quite-expected death that comes at the end of a long illness, so I don't think that's it either.

The only thing I can come up with is that he didn't seem very ill the last time I saw him. So it didn't feel like a goodbye at all. Only once have I lost someone without having gotten the chance to say goodbye - no small blessing - and I clearly do not know how to deal with it. Usually I am able to make a bedside visit, and play or sing something for my loved ones before they pass. And usually after they pass, I am charged with holding it together for long enough to sing or play at the funeral. The tears have to stay down, and the only way to do that is to stuff down the emotions too. Maybe that's what I'm doing right now, on a subconscious level. Maybe the floodgates will open the next time I go riding.

Happy trails, Skippy. Call if you get lonesome.

Thanksgiving (Part I)

Skip to the bottom of this post if you don't care what I've been up to this weekend, and just want to read the sappy part.

Last night I kicked off the holiday season with Thanksgiving feast #1 of 3. I was invited by a friend to come along to Milwaukee, to the home of someone he hadn't seen in a decade. Now, those of you who know me have at least some idea of how much I love Thanksgiving. I was not going to say no, even at risk of an awkward evening surrounded by people I've never met. This is not what ended up happening anyway.

I wish I could think of an engaging way to write about this, but it's impossible to be smug about what I'm feeling right now. I had a really rough week. I fought with a loved one, struggled with loneliness, felt terrified about my financial situation, and was horrified by events around this country in which peaceful protesters were beaten and pepper sprayed. But then the weekend came, and I was able to fill it with good people and beautiful goings-on. It was like the universe came together for me in attempts to make amends for all the terrible things it had been leaving in my path lately.

Friday: I had Friday afternoon off for the first time since I started this job. A friend invited me to join her for yoga, and I almost cried I when I realized how badly I needed this. Her studio was having a special Thanksgiving deal where members could bring a friend for free. We stretched, strengthened, laughed, and opened up. The instructor kept saying things that made me feel she was reading my mind. All the tension I'd been storing started to jitter its way out of my body. We got done and I was a new person. I was breathing again. It's insane how much we internalize and normalize, and I'm going to try to remember that this week.

We then joined some more friends for dinner, to celebrate one of us finishing a big writing project (if she is reading this, she should let me know if she would like me to link to it here). None of us who were there have an easy time of things right now, and most of us are in jobs we don't want to end up in. But everyone there finds the energy and passion to do something they love. We muster the resources to create things, to improve the world even when it's giving us a beatdown. And, dammit, we had a great night. Thanks, friends.

Saturday: I got a custom order for some dinosaur mittens, which cost the same amount of money I got screwed out of earlier this week. Universe, thanks for having my back. Then I biked downtown to pick up a check for some work I'd done this summer. On the way I passed Occupy Madison, gave them a solidarity fist on my way by, and received a wave of cheers and revolutionary energy in return for my small gesture. I felt fortified in a way I hadn't in a long time.

The nearer I got to the capitol, the more cars I heard honking to the rhythm of this is what democracy looks like, and my smile got even broader. By noon there were already about 30,000 people gathered around the square, singing freedom songs and labor songs. This warms my heart every time, and reminds me of the importance of what I teach. These songs are POWERFUL. These songs invoke the power of the first anti-slavery efforts, of the entire Civil Rights Era, of the Free Speech Movement, of every antiwar movement...they are raw revolutionary energy. These songs are the force of wronged people throughout our history. These songs are the voices of everyone who has participated and believed in all of these movements raised together. Joyfully! I did not feel anger in the crowd--I felt hope, and camaraderie, and wonder and joy at the idea that so many of us could come together so strongly.

I rode this energy all the way home, to get ready for Thanksgiving #1. When I got there, I was thrilled to find myself surrounded by intellectuals and liberals and teachers and public workers and queers and every combination thereof, all of whom welcomed me with open arms, as though we'd known each other for years. I was home, in an instant. We laughed and ate and drank and talked about our lives without dwelling on the things that keep us down.

Here comes aforementioned sappy part.

Halfway through the meal, I was informed that this is one of those Thanksgiving parties where everybody goes around and says what they are thankful for. When this happens at my family Thanksgiving, my mother locks herself in the bathroom because it inevitably becomes so awkward. But last night was not like that. These people were not dutifully listing the things we're supposed to be thankful for--health, family, friends, etc.--they were giving thanks. And the message that came up again and again was that yes, this year has been exceptionally challenging. But somehow, especially during this holiday season, the challenges make the blessings stand in sharper relief. My heart began to swell as I understood that this was true for me as well. When it was my turn, this is what I said:

I just moved back to Wisconsin after eight years away, and every single day, something happens that makes me so excited to be back here - whether it's the seasons, a local brew I've missed, casserole, or people letting me change lanes without being dicks about it.

Today especially, I am incredibly grateful for the amazing displays of democracy and free speech right here in our state, and in our country, and in the world. It gives me so much hope, and keeps things in perspective for me.

I am thankful, too, for wonderful friends who push through their struggles and still somehow find the energy and compassion to fight for their values.

And having said that, everything in my world got a little bit shinier.

EXCUSES. Or, S'MUG: Not just about coffee anymore.

Dear (my one follower and anyone else who may have ever read this blog),

It has been a long absence, and for that S'mug Bitch apologizes. But in the same breath, she would like to offer you a legion of excuses:

1) During her final semester of graduate school, S'bitch was composed of anxiety of a greater density than ever before. Caffeine would have caused an explosion that may have ruptured the San Andreas Fault.

http://thulescientific.com/

2) Due to said anxiety, S'Bitch was mostly trying to avoid work, mostly by doing lots of this and this

meditation-online.net

wrinklepage.com

and also this

wkdp.com

3) Following the Semester of All Dooms, S'Bitch drove across 2/3 of the US, taking the long way back to the Motherland: WISCONSIN. At this point it took her 4.5 months to land a job, and now

4) She is too poor to go out for coffee!

BUT

That doesn't mean the blog has to be over. S'Bitch is still S'MUG as ever. Perhaps even moreso. S'MUG is now going to shift focus to a broader spectrum of life, outside the cafe scene. Plenty of things to judge out here, too. Which leads me to:

The Best Bad Day Ever

Right off the bat, I just need to say that this is not a rant. It's going to sound like it at first, but keep reading--it turns around later.

Let me tell you a bit about my job, so that I can explain about yesterday. I work almost-full-time at a kennel and doggie daycare. This means I am out the door by 6am, at work when it's still dark, on my feet and outside all day, regardless of weather. I'm with a group of anywhere from 25-75 dogs, making sure nobody gets into fights, barks too much, eats rocks, that sort of thing. It's not entirely different from teaching, actually, except that when they're out of control, I can leash them and throw them in a time-out.

Yesterday, it was rainy and around 38° all day. So, half of the time we were soaked and freezing, and the other half we were inside, trapped in a not very large room with a pack of wild beasties. They are all nutso when they are inside, so they fight and bark a lot. In a very resonant room, this is extremely loud and piercing.

By the time I got home yesterday evening, I would have described myself thusly: Soaked, frozen, exhausted, hungry, smelly, headachy, bitten, scratched, bruised, and sporting one smashed finger. But even as I made this assessment, I realized that I still felt better than I ever did at the end of a day of grad school. So I started counting reasons.

-I get to see the sunrise and sunset every day at work. In the words of one of my favorite authors, Gregory Miller, "Life is too short to forego such easily attained pleasures."

-In my first three weeks at this job, I have (unintentionally and unexpectedly) lost 10lbs. This is not a good thing in and of itself, because I am a Fairly Skinny Bitch to begin with and I'll need the insulation, but the upshot is that I have really great energy, despite sometimes working 6:30am-6:30pm.

-My coworkers are great. Some have worked with horses as well, so I get to tap into a part of my personal makeup that has seemed too distant for too long. Also, we make fun of each other a lot. If you know me personally, you know that this is my favorite form of human communication.

-I spend every day surrounded by a bunch of (mostly) adorable furry things who love me so hard they want to knock me over and lick my face off. It's good for the self esteem.

-Even though I am still not earning enough to pay the bills (it's 50° in my apartment, so heat is still an unnecessary luxury), it feels good to be scraping by on my own, forcing life to give me what I need. Plus there's pride to be gained from the fact that I've managed to secure three different jobs in the current market (the first I had to quit after a week because of a physical problem).

-This job is the opposite of grad school in so many ways, which is exactly what I needed at this point in my life. It's task oriented, and I know when I've finished something. I know that I'm good at my job, and always getting better. I get recognition when I do something extra. When my shift is over, I am done working for the day, and I have to go home and do something else.

-Because of the previous point, I am doing a much better job of building a social life. It's hard to make friends when you're not in school, but I'm making progress. I'm even dating...I think. I hope. It's complicated and confusing, but thrilling. At any rate, I've met some people who I am really excited to get to know. They're already making me want to be a better version of myself.

In conclusion, life's rough, but a S'mug Bitch is rougher. 

Coming soon: How this S'Bitch is makin' it work (Keyword: DINOSAURS)