Let me pencil you in

For my friends who have been at the mercy of my spontaneous tears for the last week, I did you a favor today:  I scheduled time to cry.  I had to enlist the aid of a catalyst: the movie The Descendants.  Now, Jeff might be upset when he reads this because he might have wanted me to wait to watch it with him, but I knew this was one I needed to watch alone.  And I knew I needed to cry. Recently, I've found myself crying in church with no end in sight, wiping snot on my sleeves for lack of Kleenex.  I went to Bible study last night and just the sight of my good friends brought it up again.  I'm usually good at holding it in - I've done it for years.  I've pent up lots of tears over things that I'm really sad about. And instead I've been angry.  I've made jokes at my expense to hide what's really underneath.  I've been abusive towards myself in the form of lack of care.  I've avoided deep moments with those that I love because it just hurts too much to feel.  I've also been cussing a lot lately because I need release.  Judge me if you will, but lately those words are the only ones fitting. 

I cried most of the movie.  And afterwards.  I related with many characters: the hurt spouse who feels inadequate to raise his children alone, the daughter who feels neglected so she acts out, the scorned wife at the end yelling at George Clooney's wife that she forgives her - through gritted teeth.  Actually, I indentified with most of the characters.  Even the comatose wife, who at the end I wept for too, despite being disgusted with her for most of the movie.  She was hurt too, her heart broken and disappointed and let down by those she misplaced her trust in.  This movie was the perfect storm for an onslaught of weeping that has now resulted in what Jeff calls my "golf ball eyes".  I wasn't kidding when I say I blocked out my afternoon to bawl.  It was calculated and definitely efficient.  Unfortunately, I think I need a week of Cry Time.  And lots more emotion-provoking movies to get it out of me.  I've been saving it up for oh so long. 

Blogging, redirected.

I was going to write a post on deep thoughts provoked by Jen Hatmaker's posts on Easter, but that was before I stepped in dog crap this morning.  Now those thoughts are gone and replaced by negative thoughts and feelings.  I have yet to go outside and spray said dog crap off my cute deck shoes because I need to work up the desire to meet with fecal matter once again today.  The frustrating points of stepping in dog crap today were:
1. We don't own a dog and neither do our neighbors so where the hell did the dog crap come from?
2. I ran all the way to school behind M's bike and didn't notice I had stepped in dog crap.
3. I ran all the way home and got in the van to go to the chiropractor and didn't notice I had stepped in dog crap.
4. I laid down on the adjustment table and didn't notice I had stepped in dog crap.
5. I smeared dog crap all over my other shoe, my jeans, the adjustment table and STILL didn't notice that I had stepped in dog crap until Dr. Bob came in and let me know that there was DOG CRAP all over the place. 

So I walked out of Dr. Bob's barefoot like a cast member of an Appalachian Emergency Room skit on SNL and headed back home. 

*If you look closely, you can see a pretty unique-looking squashed caterpillar on the bottom of my crap-filled shoe.  I'm sure this is God's humorous way of reminding me that there is beauty amidst the mess.