Small town girl, city girl, or suburban girl?

Actually...all three.  I grew up in a small town, L'Anse Michigan.  As I see all the Halloween decorations out now, it makes me think of Halloween in a small town.  It was so fun.  It was a town event, people and kids everywhere walking and running up and down the streets.  Nobody was worried about people hurting kids, it was just a celebration that brought everybody out.  Of course, living in the UP of Michigan meant that by the end of October we had to wear our winter jackets under our costumes.  It kind of ruined the look of the costume but the sugar high drowned out the disappointment.  The freedom that came with living in a small town leaves some enchanting memories in my mind.  My brother and I walking to the candy store to pick out penny candy.  We could walk by ourselves, it was only a couple blocks away and there weren't the dangers of the city.  Our dog made her rounds and visited all the neighbors who gave her food and treats. 

At 10, we moved to Minneapolis.  What a culture shock that was.  The things we heard about the city were scary and there were just so many people . . . everywhere.  We lived in south Minneapolis.  The area was nice but there were the realities of places in the city that you should not go alone.  And let's be honest, the UP is pretty, um, white.  Personal experience with people of other ethnic backgrounds was both fascinating and nerve wracking.  But you realize once you get in school, that kids are kids and families are families and there are good and bad of both.  We experienced the city and all it had to offer.  I learned that if I wanted a job or to get places that I had to ride the city bus.  I watched and noticed things that my city friends had never noticed or thought of before simply because they had lived it all their lives.  Like the couple that always got on the bus close to downtown.  They were old (of course I was young then) but I bet in their 70 or older.  The woman looked like a picture straight out of a kid's nightmare of a wicked witch.  She had salt and pepper hair that was long and frizzy and came out from under a hat and stuck out everywhere.  Then there was the man, who had one leg and one arm that were bent and crippled in some way.  He was always about 4 steps behind the woman.  She talked all the time, he never talked.  As the bus was going down the block to stop at the corner, this couple wanted to catch that bus.  They were a ways away and city bus drivers wait for no man (or woman); they have a schedule.  This man, with his crippled leg and arm began this awkward sideways RUN.  This time he was in front and his babbling companion was taking her many tiny steps to try and keep up with him.  Nobody else on the bus was watching this play out.  The man seriously hauled ass and covered more territory than I could have imagined and got to the door as the driver was going to close it.  His long face with a little crooked mouth looked at the driver and he opened the door back up while the witch impersonator caught up and got on the bus.  That was one of the funniest situations that I ever watched and it was all city--a place full of characters if you just look up over your newspaper.  

Now I have created yet another lifetime of being a suburbanite.  Although I exist in the suburbs, I'm not really "part" of it.  I don't really know my neighbors (except for my ex-husband that lives down the road) personally at all.  Barely their names really, but I have lived here for 20 years.  Yikes it's scary to say it's been that many.  I don't take part in Farmington things.  I only went to football games when my daughter was a cheerleader and I didn't make friends with the other parents.  I was nice to them, but I never saw them outside the school events.  I have so many great friends and family and I pretty much stick with them.  They're my life, my strength, my happiness and I have all my history with them.  I have everything I need right there.  I also am out in the country here, so I don't see people walking down the street or things like that, so it allows me to have my own little world in my log house out in the country.  

So I am happy to say that I am a mix of all three; small town, city, and suburban.  I wouldn't have given up any of them.  I think that having all three experiences causes me to observe each one with a little bit of fascination.      

Renaissance

As hard as it has been to work the Renaissance on the weekend after working a full week at work, it has been a fun and interesting experience.  It is Halloween for grown-ups.  I found the adults get far more into the costume dressing than the kids do.  It's a show that I get to watch in living color every time I work. 

I think questions, like why is the Queen Mum in full costume. . . a man.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.  :-) But what man aspires to dress up as the Queen Mum?  I guess I just don't know anybody like that.  I'm guessing it's a very interesting kind of guy.  And who is the guy who is the jester?  He walks around looking stupid and squeaking some kind of toy instead of speaking.  Do you audition for such a role or does someone come up to you and think you could pull off looking stupid for an entire weekend?  These are the kind of questions that run through my head as I watch the show playing out in front of me every time I work.  

I'm also amazed at the amount of caffeine that is now consumed out there.  I like coffee, but have always felt lost in the choices that are in the average coffee shop.  I used to just go in and usually be behind someone that spewed out a long-winded description of their precise coffee recipe.  This would then make me feel speechless and not wanting to sound like I knew nothing of what I was ordering, so I just went with the daily roast and put my cream in it like at home.  Now, thanks to working at this booth, I can confidently order at a coffee shop.  I am shocked at the number of people that get multiple shots of espresso in their coffee drink, along with flavorings so you would end up with more caffeine and sugar than I probably consume in a week's time.  I think my heart would explode with that amount of caffeine in that short of time.  I would also develop that twitching eye thing that happens when I have even a little bit too much caffeine.
   
I did have some time to just hang around the Renaissance last night with some friends and we were approached by the guy who does "wildly inappropriate poetry".  It fit the bill and was hilarious, but we had to move away from children for him to read us the poetry.  This is why this is Halloween for adults; that was NOT a childrens' activity right there.  And where else would you see that many men wearing tights (many displaying a little to much information), and that many women bearing 3/4 of their breasts in public.  So next week is the last week, so the show will come to an end.  A fun but exhausting step into a rather bizarre but entertaining show.     
   

I said that.

I like saying what I think.  I'm sure not everybody appreciates this attribute of mine.  In a meeting when nobody want to ask a question, even with people looking from side to side waiting for someone to ask the question, I'll raise my hand and ask it.  If they didn't really want us to ask a question, then they should not have opened the floor to questions.  If you open the door, I feel it's my obligation to walk through it.  I like to say things out loud that I know everyone is thinking, but some form of Minnesota nice takes over and it's not said.  Not that it would be a negative thing, but would it be the politically correct thing to say. 

It's also really fun to be with someone that appreciates that part of you and loves that boldness.  It makes it feel like a gift.  I know where the gift came from.  My Mom was like this too.  Unconventional and bold.  I think those things enabled me to dig my life back out after a divorce and now is helping me do that again after becoming a widow.  I don't want to let anyone hold me back from experiencing or enjoying something because of their perception of how I should act.  Being with someone who appreciates all of your personality allows life to be experienced fully.  Nothing holds you back from being all of you and not caring if someone doesn't particularly like you.  

If someone doesn't like me, I'm OK with that.  I don't want them to be mean to me, but they don't have to like me.  I think they're missing out, because I'm very loyal and overall a pretty good friend.  I've also found that assertive doesn't always play well with people who want to control you (first marriage) either.  But when you get freed from control, it's so liberating to let it all out and just get to be your bold little self.  I felt all empowered and like I could just take on anything.  Then you meet someone else and your inner power is just part of you again so that person can't imagine you without it.  That's the injustice of going into a relationship with another controller, you don't get to live with inner power released or you let that controller push it back down inside.

So I'm going to keep being the person who asks the questions, pushes the envelope, and says the bold thing.  I'm OK with that. . .



  

Rules

I have found out that there are a lot of rules in life.  Not like the rules that govern our country, but rules that govern our life.  I'm talking about the ones that people don't really talk about but are nonetheless there.  There are rules when you are parents (yes I spanked my kids), rules when you get divorced (knew that one before I got divorced), rules when you are widowed (didn't really know this), and rules that go with daily life (I love my job). 

The rules of parenting are that you don't spank kids when they are bad.  That was not always the rules, at least not when I grew up.  And I'm not talking about beating or anything like that--I get the difference.  But I see more kids slapping their parents in the face then I ever did when my kids were young.  It's hard to see someone whose child is slapping them in the face and the parent is saying "no no honey".  Uh, no. 

The rules of divorce.  People are going to think there is something wrong with you that someone divorced you.  Oh, the injustice, but the truth.  Wives are going to think that you might want their husbands.  That one's for sure.  I think that's a carryover of the 60's and 70's, those home-wreckers, the divorcees!!  And the last, everybody hates their ex.  For me, the only grudge I hold with my ex is if I think there has been an issue (an injustice) with my kids.  Then I am a cougar (not the cougar of today).  The one that will kill you if you mess with my kids.  

And now the rules of being widowed.  Everyone is going to ask you how you are, and then tilt their head.  And most acquaintences don't really want to know the answer because it makes them uncomfortable.  There are many rules on what you "should" be doing at any particular milestone.  Going out and enjoying yourself is pretty iffy.  Especially if a lot of drinking is involved.  (Although some think "Wow, she probably needed that")  But everyone that loves you wants to make sure you're not doing too much of anything--it might be unhealthy.  That's OK because that comes out of love.  

My favorite rule I love to break is last one on my list.  The daily rule that says I love my job . . . and it is what it is, at least I have a job.  I do not accept that.  My life is what I make it to be.  I found myself looking at my life, my career etc. and thinking that was it.  I had an awesome husband with a very bad disease.  We fought it as hard as was possible, but fighting it was not enough.  But I started to see that as I was home a lot, I started to delve into my creative side.  I love to quilt, I love to read and most of all I have always loved to write.  I then decided that these things made me happier.  Why in the hell would I wait until I'm 46 to do these things that make me happy.  I know, I couldn't figure it out either!!  So I made a short term goal to start writing, and I did.  I felt a fire burning and words playing over and over in my head until I wrote them.  It was like I was writing for the first time. 

This is the Red Marla now.  I challenge myself to be everything I want to be.  I challenge myself to be the kind of friend, mother, daughter, sister that I want to be.  I challenge myself to get out of bed every morning, and carry the monumental loss of Tim with me not as a weight, but as a crown and embrace every feeling that goes with it.  I can feel Tim cheering me on like an angel on my shoulder to grab every moment of every day and make it something that makes you happy.  Just like I did with him.          

First Post . . . Tah-Dah

So here I am, on a blog.  I love to write and here's my attempt at breaking down the first door and just doing it.  I'm a big fan of just doing it.  I've had to take a lot of chances in life and now am making a lot of decisions on my own, so I have to survey, mull it over, then jump. 

The title, It all starts with the RED, is my symbol of empowerment.  I even have a mantra.  It goes like this "Red is good.  Feel a sense of empowerment from the Red.  Red is bold, it's a sign that you are taking charge of your future.  This is a new era for you.  You are no longer blending in, you are all out there and life will not happen to you; you will lead the way."  There it is.  I wrote this for a friend, but I now keep it posted on my wall at work.  Every time I feel like I'm not being in charge of my life, I read it.  There's several of us now that have embraced the red mantra and life changes when you do.  Well I should say, they've changed their lives. 

I've been through some stuff--a divorce followed by an awesome marriage, a combined family with 5 kids, and recently, the death of a spouse.  I've got some great family and friends, but ultimately it's up to me to get myself through the day, the week, etc.  I've got more support than many, but I have always taken the bull by the horns and forged ahead, making sure that I first look back and see if there's something to fix--in me, that is--that I do it before charging forward.  

I'm planning to write about life in general, I have a great sense of humor (that's certainly a lucky thing) and do my part to understand the crazy things in life.