And if I might dream tonight,
I wonder what I might find
lurking there amidst the midst and haze
hanging in my mind.
Would the stars glimmer and dot the darkness
of a thick and heavy sky?
Would the moon softly kiss the stones along the path
twisting through the caverns inside my head?
I'd hope for nothing more than a quiet peace,
a place to rest my weary soul.
Often though it is the opposite I happen on
in those dreams of mine.
Tonight I lay here wondering,
squeezing tight my eyes
hoping for a lovely dream,
and not one in which I die.
So I hope this time for a different ending
I pray for the dreams fairy tales are made of.
Or at the very least that in my slumber
I will rest and remember nothing in the morning.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Fairy Tales
The dashing prince atop his white steed with the sword glinting in the sheath ready to slay the dragon for the lovely, kind princess. Or perhaps it is a fairy godmother flitting about waving a wand or wrinkling her nose to turn a pumpkin into a gleaming carriage. Or maybe it's nothing more than some handsome man making a girl's eyes dance and sparkle when she laughs as he swirls her around the dance floor accompanied by the lovely sounds of a stringed orchestra.
Most little girls grow up believing that this, or something similar could actually become their reality, at least to some degree. They dream of that beautiful wedding day in which their stomachs are filled with butterflies as they glide down the aisle in a gorgeous swathing cupcake gown toward the man of they've fantasized about their whole lives. Then they dream of the perfect honeymoon, the house with the white picket fence, the fluffy dog, and the giggling babies. Then there are girls like me...
I don't believe the fairy tale. I never did really. I was always the skeptic. And now, well now I don't know what to think. I want so very badly to believe that fairy tale. I want to think that somewhere there is a prince ready to come and rescue me from the tower. It just seems though that I'm destined to be Rapunzel forever, except I have short hair so the prince can't climb to the window to save me. I'm stuck there. Stuck.
I thought I had my moment a couple of weeks ago in court. I thought that finally I got to be the princess instead of Cinderella who gets screwed over by everyone around her. I thought perhaps I finally got to go to the ball and put on the glass slipper. I won in court, by a landslide. It was bad for him, to the point that I felt sorry for him. But it doesn't even matter. I still lose. How? Because he is getting to walk away essentially scott free because of a legal loophole in bankruptcy proceedings. Yes, yes, he has to file bankruptcy, which is bad, but it also absolves him from his punishment for screwing me over.
So as I sit here typing all I can think is that I am sitting in a tower waiting for someone and yet no one will come. We like to think that "we're all in this together" but at the end of the day, the weight of this all falls on my shoulders and mine alone. There is no help mate. There is no one who truly understands. The burden is mine to bear, and I hate him for it. I don't think the fairy tale is real. I told my friend today that I think there are no princes or princesses, only a bunch of smashed up Humpty Dumptys. The looking glass is shattered. There is no magic. Life is not pretty, and I doubt it ever will be. Shame on parents for letting little girls think otherwise. We are not princesses. Nothing of the sort. No matter how many tiaras I wore as a little girl, and not matter how many pretty dresses I twirl around in, I am no princess. The stories aren't true. In the end justice does not seem to prevail. We do the right thing because it's the right thing, but to expect a reward is foolish at best. It is true that no good deed goes unpunished.
And so I sit in my tower and wonder if there is an end to this mess. I try to make sense of it all, but it is a riddle I cannot solve. All the dresses in all the world can not a princess make. In reality, we are all more like Cinderella as she scrubs the floors, makes the food, and mends the clothes with coal smudged on her pretty face.
Most little girls grow up believing that this, or something similar could actually become their reality, at least to some degree. They dream of that beautiful wedding day in which their stomachs are filled with butterflies as they glide down the aisle in a gorgeous swathing cupcake gown toward the man of they've fantasized about their whole lives. Then they dream of the perfect honeymoon, the house with the white picket fence, the fluffy dog, and the giggling babies. Then there are girls like me...
I don't believe the fairy tale. I never did really. I was always the skeptic. And now, well now I don't know what to think. I want so very badly to believe that fairy tale. I want to think that somewhere there is a prince ready to come and rescue me from the tower. It just seems though that I'm destined to be Rapunzel forever, except I have short hair so the prince can't climb to the window to save me. I'm stuck there. Stuck.
I thought I had my moment a couple of weeks ago in court. I thought that finally I got to be the princess instead of Cinderella who gets screwed over by everyone around her. I thought perhaps I finally got to go to the ball and put on the glass slipper. I won in court, by a landslide. It was bad for him, to the point that I felt sorry for him. But it doesn't even matter. I still lose. How? Because he is getting to walk away essentially scott free because of a legal loophole in bankruptcy proceedings. Yes, yes, he has to file bankruptcy, which is bad, but it also absolves him from his punishment for screwing me over.
So as I sit here typing all I can think is that I am sitting in a tower waiting for someone and yet no one will come. We like to think that "we're all in this together" but at the end of the day, the weight of this all falls on my shoulders and mine alone. There is no help mate. There is no one who truly understands. The burden is mine to bear, and I hate him for it. I don't think the fairy tale is real. I told my friend today that I think there are no princes or princesses, only a bunch of smashed up Humpty Dumptys. The looking glass is shattered. There is no magic. Life is not pretty, and I doubt it ever will be. Shame on parents for letting little girls think otherwise. We are not princesses. Nothing of the sort. No matter how many tiaras I wore as a little girl, and not matter how many pretty dresses I twirl around in, I am no princess. The stories aren't true. In the end justice does not seem to prevail. We do the right thing because it's the right thing, but to expect a reward is foolish at best. It is true that no good deed goes unpunished.
And so I sit in my tower and wonder if there is an end to this mess. I try to make sense of it all, but it is a riddle I cannot solve. All the dresses in all the world can not a princess make. In reality, we are all more like Cinderella as she scrubs the floors, makes the food, and mends the clothes with coal smudged on her pretty face.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Rescue
The first line of the Tonic song "Sugar" says "Come on baby put your shoes on. Looking like you need a rescue [...]" Ryan Adams sings about the "Rescue Blues". I never thought of myself as the girl who got to be the princess rescued from the tower. Growing up I always played cowboys and indians, and the other girls got to be the damsels in distress while I ran around with my brother and the other boys. In high school I was quiet and mostly kept to myself. In college, I was even more reserved except with a very select group of friends. Now I'm more open, but I am incredibly independent...to the point that it's actually not a good thing. Hmm...which that may actually be why I've found myself in this position come to think of it.
What I'm referring to is my strong desire to be rescued...to not be alone...essentially just to be loved. I hear all of these songs these guys have written for these girls. I wonder if the girls have any idea what they have and if they do I wonder if they appreciate it. Do they know what it's like on the other side-to be alone and always do everything themselves? To not have that shoulder to cry on or that embrace to hide in when the storms come? To come home only to a pile of books and to know characters in movies better than they know most people? To find solace only in a song that isn't even for you? To wear a mask in the world of a pretty happy girl but at home to sink into a somber, melancholy version of the girl they might be?
I have a vague notion that perhaps a love like no other is waiting for me...waiting to be unlocked from it's warm, soft sepulcher. For some reason it is not yet time for me to escape this dark and heavy past of mine. Perhaps it is to teach me to lay down my pride and beg for help...to learn that while hell may be other people, I do in fact need those people in my life. Maybe I am too impatient and when I learn my lesson, perhaps there will be a reward. Or maybe there is no reward at all, but I am to live this life simply because it is the cards I've been dealt. I'm really not sure at all. The only thing I am sure of is that I feel like the girl in the song, and I need a rescue.
What I'm referring to is my strong desire to be rescued...to not be alone...essentially just to be loved. I hear all of these songs these guys have written for these girls. I wonder if the girls have any idea what they have and if they do I wonder if they appreciate it. Do they know what it's like on the other side-to be alone and always do everything themselves? To not have that shoulder to cry on or that embrace to hide in when the storms come? To come home only to a pile of books and to know characters in movies better than they know most people? To find solace only in a song that isn't even for you? To wear a mask in the world of a pretty happy girl but at home to sink into a somber, melancholy version of the girl they might be?
I have a vague notion that perhaps a love like no other is waiting for me...waiting to be unlocked from it's warm, soft sepulcher. For some reason it is not yet time for me to escape this dark and heavy past of mine. Perhaps it is to teach me to lay down my pride and beg for help...to learn that while hell may be other people, I do in fact need those people in my life. Maybe I am too impatient and when I learn my lesson, perhaps there will be a reward. Or maybe there is no reward at all, but I am to live this life simply because it is the cards I've been dealt. I'm really not sure at all. The only thing I am sure of is that I feel like the girl in the song, and I need a rescue.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Faith...
Now this is a topic that is controversial to say the least. Faith is not identifiable in any tangible sort of fashion. You cannot point at it, touch it, feel it, hear it, taste, or even smell it. Certainly you cannot see it either. We all know it exists though. So how do we define it?
I do not believe faith is simply going to church every Sunday, and it is by no means something as trivial as being in compliance with a bunch of silly, meaningless traditions established by church leaders hundreds of years ago. I can't imagine that faith can be defined by lighting hundreds of candles and counting beads as you pray. I imagine it must be more than sipping grape juice from a plastic cup and nibbling a stale cracker. Undoubtedly faith exceeds the emotional catharsis most of us experience at what has become a typical church service...a service that resembles a rock concert more than a quiet, reverent place to learn about and honor God.
Faith is defined in several different ways on www.dictionary.com. The essence of the definition it seems though is "a belief in something". I'm okay with the belief part I think, but I wonder about the something, and how that belief is developed. Now this brings me to the part where I have to sit and reflect on my own beliefs a bit. Doing so can be quite uncomfortable as I don't even know all the answers pertaining to myself. However, I'd prefer to be honest and admit I don't know than to lead on my lovely readers and pretend I'm far more sure of myself than is true.
So to begin, I believe in God, yes that one...the one with the capital "G". I believe that God is THE higher being in control of this universe, down to the tiniest atom in my human makeup. I'm certain that God has plans for all of us even though we aren't quite sure what those plans may be. I get a bit confused though when it comes to questions of predestination and heaven and hell. If this God in whom I have faith is so gracious, loving, and merciful, why then does he banish souls to hell? And what is to say that I will not be one of those poor souls languishing in misery forever even though I am trying to live a good life because doing the right thing is simply the right thing to do?
Muslims pray multiple times a day and make pilgrimages to Mecca. Hindus won't eat beef. Many other religions practice all sorts of different rules and regulations as part of their faith. They truly believe if they do these things they will go to Heaven. The Muslim men sincerely believe that if they live a good life they will be awarded numerous virgins in heaven. As Christians, and I don't mean that in terms of organized religion but as followers of Jesus Christ, what do we do? I am inclined to think that, as I often say, we have missed the point of the pageantry. We go to our churches. We wear the trendy jeans and carry our Starbucks cup like it's a badge of honor. We know where to go to see and be seen by the right people. We help the homeless not because we want to show love, grace, and compassion, but because it has become the cool thing to do. I believe our faith should be based on our love for man. Loving as Christ loved is far more challenging than one might imagine. We say we are "seeker friendly" and "relevant", but how are $300 jeans relevant to single mom who can't afford to feed her children, or to the prostitute who's been beaten by her pimp, or to the young girl battling anorexia so she can feel like she fits in, or to the man who lost all his money gambling and has a sex addiction? How does an emotionally cathartic church service practically help these people and build their faith in anything more than the almighty dollar that affords the lights, multi-million dollar sound systems, and the "rockstars" playing on stage in their designer "stage wear"?
This being said, I choose to put my faith in the love that Christ showed to all people unconditionally. I still cannot define that faith in a tangible sense, but I can however define it by actions.
I do not believe faith is simply going to church every Sunday, and it is by no means something as trivial as being in compliance with a bunch of silly, meaningless traditions established by church leaders hundreds of years ago. I can't imagine that faith can be defined by lighting hundreds of candles and counting beads as you pray. I imagine it must be more than sipping grape juice from a plastic cup and nibbling a stale cracker. Undoubtedly faith exceeds the emotional catharsis most of us experience at what has become a typical church service...a service that resembles a rock concert more than a quiet, reverent place to learn about and honor God.
Faith is defined in several different ways on www.dictionary.com. The essence of the definition it seems though is "a belief in something". I'm okay with the belief part I think, but I wonder about the something, and how that belief is developed. Now this brings me to the part where I have to sit and reflect on my own beliefs a bit. Doing so can be quite uncomfortable as I don't even know all the answers pertaining to myself. However, I'd prefer to be honest and admit I don't know than to lead on my lovely readers and pretend I'm far more sure of myself than is true.
So to begin, I believe in God, yes that one...the one with the capital "G". I believe that God is THE higher being in control of this universe, down to the tiniest atom in my human makeup. I'm certain that God has plans for all of us even though we aren't quite sure what those plans may be. I get a bit confused though when it comes to questions of predestination and heaven and hell. If this God in whom I have faith is so gracious, loving, and merciful, why then does he banish souls to hell? And what is to say that I will not be one of those poor souls languishing in misery forever even though I am trying to live a good life because doing the right thing is simply the right thing to do?
Muslims pray multiple times a day and make pilgrimages to Mecca. Hindus won't eat beef. Many other religions practice all sorts of different rules and regulations as part of their faith. They truly believe if they do these things they will go to Heaven. The Muslim men sincerely believe that if they live a good life they will be awarded numerous virgins in heaven. As Christians, and I don't mean that in terms of organized religion but as followers of Jesus Christ, what do we do? I am inclined to think that, as I often say, we have missed the point of the pageantry. We go to our churches. We wear the trendy jeans and carry our Starbucks cup like it's a badge of honor. We know where to go to see and be seen by the right people. We help the homeless not because we want to show love, grace, and compassion, but because it has become the cool thing to do. I believe our faith should be based on our love for man. Loving as Christ loved is far more challenging than one might imagine. We say we are "seeker friendly" and "relevant", but how are $300 jeans relevant to single mom who can't afford to feed her children, or to the prostitute who's been beaten by her pimp, or to the young girl battling anorexia so she can feel like she fits in, or to the man who lost all his money gambling and has a sex addiction? How does an emotionally cathartic church service practically help these people and build their faith in anything more than the almighty dollar that affords the lights, multi-million dollar sound systems, and the "rockstars" playing on stage in their designer "stage wear"?
This being said, I choose to put my faith in the love that Christ showed to all people unconditionally. I still cannot define that faith in a tangible sense, but I can however define it by actions.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
My Moment
Anyone who even remotely knows me is more than likely aware that I've been fighting to free myself from my ex-husband for years now. The simple, uncontested divorce alone took two years, and then there was the contempt case on top of it. Today was the hearing for the latter. After years of being the proverbial "bad guy" all I wanted was a tiny piece of vindication. I was scared and nervous that I wouldn't get it and that I would still, even despite the ex's clear willfulness to not uphold the divorce decree, be put in a corner so to speak. Things couldn't have happened more differently though...
We went to court and I actually had reservations about whether or not he would even show up. But there he was with his dad and new wife...we'll call her Little Miss Sunshine...seems appropriate given her age and bleached blonde hair. The ex was looking heroin chic, but not in that cool Olsen twin kind of way, but more like I felt as though I needed to buy him a burger and a haircut. Despite their very non-intimidating appearance, I was still a bit shaken by seeing him. After all, until today, I had not laid eyes on him physically since 2007. As soon as I saw my lawyer though all of the nervousness subsided. I was very comforted by talking to him and looking over the game plan. I had done my homework, and we had quite a bit of documentation to back up my case.
After a bit of chatting in the hallway, my lawyer, my mom and her husband, and I entered the courtroom. It was absolutely freezing inside. So even though I was inexplicably calm and collected, I couldn't stop shaking. The judge was an hour late to court, and we had to wait for several other cases to be heard before it was our turn. Finally they called my name though. By the way, I hope I never hear "Alexis Rice" called in a courtroom again. It's unnerving even when you're the good guy.
So we all take our places at our respective tables. My lawyer articulately makes his opening statement. Then the ex takes the stand. It was a little funny to see him nervous and without the ability to fight back employing his usual tactics of yelling at people to try to scare them into getting his way. My lawyer put it to him though and didn't let him pull any punches, even going so far as to ask the ex if he knew how to read since he claimed he was unaware of something clearly stated in black and white. I had a terribly difficult time hiding my amusement at that blow to his ego; however, I quietly sat and watched. He kept glaring at me from the stand. I assume he was trying to intimidate me. Didn't work though. Funny thing, he had filed a contempt case against me and on the stand contradicted his own case! It was brilliant.
After he stepped down, it was my turn. I tried to cooly walk across the court room to the witness stand. I took my oath and sat down. My lawyer questioned me first. My voice wavered a bit, in part because I was a smidge nervous and in part because I was so cold I was shivering. At any rate, my lawyer went through his line of questioning, and I was able to expound on my answers with him. Then it was opposing counsel's turn to grill me. The ex's lawyer was quite amicable actually and not at all threatening. He asked his questions and I gave simple answers making sure not to ask any questions myself.
My turn was up finally, and I must say I finished with a bang. I was quite proud of myself honestly. After I stepped down, the ex took the stand again. My lawyer is the man and didn't let him get away with anything. I told my best friend I even have a mini crush on my lawyer now because he saved me. :) Anyway, he served my ex up nicely on a silver platter. The judge made his ruling completely in my favor. The ex's face was priceless when the judge made his ruling, even making him responsible for $8,000 worth of repairs that I never mentioned or knew about until today. Not to mention he's responsible for my legal fees! Ah, and I can't forget to mention that the judge told him he's a big boy and needs to be responsible. Shazam! Oh sweet victory.
I don't think it's appropriate to disclose further details in such an open forum, but suffice it to say, that freedom is upon me today. I can breathe again, and perhaps I can start to truly live my life now. I'm a bit overwhelmed by it all. I was exhausted after court and took a five hour nap, and I'm still tired. :) It's mostly over now though. I can have a life. I'm not quite sure where to begin exactly, but I know I'm going to celebrate tomorrow, and I can't wait!
We went to court and I actually had reservations about whether or not he would even show up. But there he was with his dad and new wife...we'll call her Little Miss Sunshine...seems appropriate given her age and bleached blonde hair. The ex was looking heroin chic, but not in that cool Olsen twin kind of way, but more like I felt as though I needed to buy him a burger and a haircut. Despite their very non-intimidating appearance, I was still a bit shaken by seeing him. After all, until today, I had not laid eyes on him physically since 2007. As soon as I saw my lawyer though all of the nervousness subsided. I was very comforted by talking to him and looking over the game plan. I had done my homework, and we had quite a bit of documentation to back up my case.
After a bit of chatting in the hallway, my lawyer, my mom and her husband, and I entered the courtroom. It was absolutely freezing inside. So even though I was inexplicably calm and collected, I couldn't stop shaking. The judge was an hour late to court, and we had to wait for several other cases to be heard before it was our turn. Finally they called my name though. By the way, I hope I never hear "Alexis Rice" called in a courtroom again. It's unnerving even when you're the good guy.
So we all take our places at our respective tables. My lawyer articulately makes his opening statement. Then the ex takes the stand. It was a little funny to see him nervous and without the ability to fight back employing his usual tactics of yelling at people to try to scare them into getting his way. My lawyer put it to him though and didn't let him pull any punches, even going so far as to ask the ex if he knew how to read since he claimed he was unaware of something clearly stated in black and white. I had a terribly difficult time hiding my amusement at that blow to his ego; however, I quietly sat and watched. He kept glaring at me from the stand. I assume he was trying to intimidate me. Didn't work though. Funny thing, he had filed a contempt case against me and on the stand contradicted his own case! It was brilliant.
After he stepped down, it was my turn. I tried to cooly walk across the court room to the witness stand. I took my oath and sat down. My lawyer questioned me first. My voice wavered a bit, in part because I was a smidge nervous and in part because I was so cold I was shivering. At any rate, my lawyer went through his line of questioning, and I was able to expound on my answers with him. Then it was opposing counsel's turn to grill me. The ex's lawyer was quite amicable actually and not at all threatening. He asked his questions and I gave simple answers making sure not to ask any questions myself.
My turn was up finally, and I must say I finished with a bang. I was quite proud of myself honestly. After I stepped down, the ex took the stand again. My lawyer is the man and didn't let him get away with anything. I told my best friend I even have a mini crush on my lawyer now because he saved me. :) Anyway, he served my ex up nicely on a silver platter. The judge made his ruling completely in my favor. The ex's face was priceless when the judge made his ruling, even making him responsible for $8,000 worth of repairs that I never mentioned or knew about until today. Not to mention he's responsible for my legal fees! Ah, and I can't forget to mention that the judge told him he's a big boy and needs to be responsible. Shazam! Oh sweet victory.
I don't think it's appropriate to disclose further details in such an open forum, but suffice it to say, that freedom is upon me today. I can breathe again, and perhaps I can start to truly live my life now. I'm a bit overwhelmed by it all. I was exhausted after court and took a five hour nap, and I'm still tired. :) It's mostly over now though. I can have a life. I'm not quite sure where to begin exactly, but I know I'm going to celebrate tomorrow, and I can't wait!
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