Just thinking

Now that I am divorced (!), I feel a little more freedom to talk about my personal life. (As Tracy braces himself.) The song (In the Still of the Night) is for my Mom. Here's to love, Mama.
I remember the first time I was in love. I was 6. Vance, my older brother, started playing baseball. His coach was Lloyd Brown and the team was full of long haired 70's kids. The shortstop was Mickey Gore. He had a red glove. I managed to be obsessed with Mickey until 8th grade. I still get to talk to him. He is friends with my family and married to my high school friend Roxanne (I think they are married). There was a short time in '76 that he took my leather name bracelet, but other than that, my love remained unrequited and pure. Still does.

There were others, of course. A couple of them broke my heart (damn you, Scotty Caballero), and I'm pretty sure I maybe put a few people out as well. So it goes.

I have learned many things about myself along the way to get to the now. I am a one- man kinda girl. No fooling around.

I like to give all of my heart to someone. This can hurt, but I see no other way.

I will not compete with women. For a man. Ever.

I am worth the trouble.

I can give a lot. I mean, a lot. But it can run dry. I found that out at a point in my marriage. I also found out, however, that I have a huge capacity to make things work, and Tracy will benefit from this. I promise.

Speaking of Tracy, I am happy to say and think and feel that everything so far has brought me to him. Yeah, I really think that. He is funny, good, and looks just a little better than Adonis. Too bad for all the other women. If I could take every quality I have ever loved about people and fashion my perfect man, he still wouldn't be as good as Tracy. I prayed (begged) to be rescued from my situation for many years. Removing me from that was enough for a lifetime, I can assure you. But then, as if God wanted to love on me some more, He gave me Tracy. That's how I see it. It's like being saved from a fire and then winning the lottery. Excessive blessing. I like it.

Down

My kids and I love to dance around in the kitchen. We love this remix (the DJ Earworm) because it represents a lot of the good times of last year. The cool thing is that last year was the hardest we have been through so far. The recurring theme of most of the songs is "Down". Getting back up. Life knocking you down. The whole down thing is perfect in so many ways. I love the notion of constantly getting back up.

Prom weekend

Monday morning! This weekend was very nice. It was the first weekend of the new official visitation schedule, which means my kids weren't with me from Thursday until Sunday. I get a little freaked out by Sunday, but I will get used to it. I got to spend my time with my Tracy, which is always perfect.

Prom was Saturday. Andrew and Chelsea are Seniors. Evan went alone via Zak Davis. They were all beautiful. I have more pics for later.

Honey's baby bunnies died. She discovered them on Saturday morning. We think the Mama Bunny may have unknowingly smothered them. Very sad.

This coming week will be busy. I have to put my house up for sale. It's not in that condition, so I will be cleaning in my "spare" time. Whatever.

Life is going to be better now. Every new day is a day that distances me from things that I want to be done with. I am going to be ok. Love to all..

I am Karen Marie Louque. Finally.

Today I work at JBBQ for the Sunday After Church Lunch Crowd. Some may think this is a good thing. And it is from the perspective of my having a job and all. But sadly, the Sunday people have the worst reputation with the servers. At first I didn't think it, but now I see. Not all the Churchers are bad, but many are. They tend to be the messiest, pickiest, rudest, and (gasp) cheapest tippers. Oh well.

Yesterday was a good day. It started with my Hot Fudge Sundae. Any day that begins with dessert is good. Then I spent the day with my kids. We worked around the house. Chelsea is moving in to my "garage", so Andrew was busy yesterday putting flooring in. It looks great, and I am happy she is going to be here.

That's it. I am hoping again. Just can't help it. Today will be a wonderful day. I will make sure of it. Love to everybody.

Bonnie the Bunny and her babies

These are the new bunnies that Honey's bunny (!) gave birth to. They are precious. What do you think, Ethan?

Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things unseen.

So today I will try to hope. And I will believe in what I cannot see. I think hope is the tricky one. I am forever downplaying my expectations and hopes because I get let down sometimes. And when I am let down, I am not good at hiding it anymore. I spent a lifetime of suppressing my feelings, and now they are just "out there". Poor Tracy. I used to be so good at the "good face". All this authenticity is so damn explicit. It makes a fool out of me often.(sigh) But I will try to hope anyway. Who knows? Maybe something good will happen!

My kids went to the fair last week. Isabelle, my youngest, was able to talk Andrew into riding the Super Shot with her. It's the ride that takes you up really high and then just drops straight down. A great way to lose your cookies. Anyway, when they were strapped in and beginning the slow ascent, Isabelle decided that she didn't want to ride this thing anymore. She started crying, Andrew tried to stop the ride, and the carnie who presses the start button couldn't help. She was going to have to see the Super Shot through. Andrew said he almost cried just looking at her. She was very sad.

I see my life like the Super Shot. Sometimes you get on thinking this will be fun or good. It always starts like that. And then circumstances or people are not what you thought they would be. I've been strapped in to so many unpleasant rides. Even now. But the carnival guy won't let me off. It's not his fault. He just travels with the fair. He probably had a bad reaction to childhood immunizations or something. His story is for another day.

I wish I could just enjoy the Super Shot. You know, find the good. The comfortable padding, the view from way up there before I drop, the rush. But I know I'll be sick when I get off, so I get caught up in thinking ahead. Dreading the inevitable.

I hate the Super Shot.

13th

Well, today is my birthday. I am 45. I don't know that much about my birth story. I know I was born at the old Our Lady of the Lake hospital in Baton Rouge like everyone else from my childhood. I was born on the 13th which has been my number so far.

Honey's bunnies were born this morning. My God, I hope Mama Bunny doesn't eat her young. That happens evidently when they are frightened, and since my ex mother in law has put food out for every stray and feral cat in Keystone, Bunny could get nervous. We'll see....

I usually dislike birthdays, especially since Daddy died. There is something about a day that you are supposed to be special. It creates expectations. Those are sometimes bad. I try very hard and not with much success to not have expectations about anything. But hope tends to creep in, and with that, disappointment. Not always, but a lot. I feel things too much (ask Tracy). On a more perfect note, I have already gotten so many sweet and wonderful wishes and comments from the people that love me. I am the luckiest woman in the world. I will bask in that and have fun.

So, I will expect nothing. (I am lying. I already do) But I'll try to enjoy whatever happens or whatever doesn't happen. And tomorrow will be April 14th, and that will be fine.

Yesterday was a very long day in BBQ land. I have another one today.

I am still reading On Writing by Stephen King and am finding out that the road to hell is paved with adverbs! I had no idea. And speaking in the passive tense is bad, too. I am now scouring my writing to see if I am guilty. I'm sure I am. God, help me to use action verbs.....I love the book, by the way. It's a little scary seeing a book on your bed with King's name on it, but this one is just funny and smart. The scariest thing so far was his getting his eardrum drained three times as a child.

I will have a good day. I already spilled my entire giant mug of coffee on the kitchen floor, so that's done. I will talk to my beautiful Hot Fudge Sundae and look forward to the rest of the week. Be nice to somebody.

Easter

I want too many things that I cannot have. It's a not that great of a place to be. Always wanting.

I remember when I was 6 or 7, Mama and Daddy sat on the porch of our hundred year old house on Rounsaville, and told me that they were, in fact, the Easter Bunny. It made sense. It was hard to imagine such a big bunny doing all that in one night. Santa, maybe, but an omnipotent rabbit was a stretch. I don't think I cried or anything. I got to make every one's baskets that night, which was fun. Mine was always the yellow grass. Yellow is my favorite color. It's the happiest color in the world.

It didn't matter really about who actually gave us the candy. It was the candy! We had chocolate for what seemed like weeks. Those little foil eggs, goldbricks, Reese's, and the big bunny with the candy eye. We always had the dyed eggs, but they got really nasty after a while.

I never told my kids that there was a bunny or Santa. We played the game, but I am not one to lie. I know it's no big deal, but I just didn't want to do it. I have this thing about truth. No judgement. It's just me. I can't lie. I won't.

I know that Easter is about the resurrection of Jesus. The complete meaning of Christianity. So, tomorrow, I'll focus on that. I'll focus on the idea that others are more important than I am. The perfect idea that God doesn't judge me on my merits or complete lack of them. It's all about mercy and love, and believing in something that I cannot see or feel. I can do that.

I'll try not to feel so sorry for myself. It's getting on my nerves. I need some chocolate. Happy Easter.

Lamott

As I have said before, I love Anne Lamott. She is profound and funny and inspiring. These are a few quotes from her.

"You will lose someone you can’t live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp."
— Anne Lamott

"It's so awful, attacking your child. It's the worse thing I know, to shout loudly at this 50 lb. being with his huge trusting brown eyes. It's like bitch-slapping E.T."
— Anne Lamott (Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith)

"You want to protect your child from pain, and what you get instead is life, and grace; and though theologians insist that grace is freely given, the truth is that sometimes you pay for it through the nose. And you can't pay your child's way. "
— Anne Lamott (Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith)