I Am the Weakest Link

It all started with a Cobb salad.

Tasty Tidbit: #1: The Cornhole Game

            From friends come the greatest quotes and tonight’s game is the Cornhole Game

            “Blue hairs love cornholing.”

“You don’t overhand [in Cornholing], too much power.  It just slams into it and slides off.”

Q: “How do you reach it?”

A:  “Reach in and pull it out.  You have to reach around in there, feel around until you find it.”

“Cornhole Championships!”

“Waiting for the big finish!”

“Yep, that’s Cornholing.  Pick one and blow it up.” 

You know you wanna play!

Tasty Tidbit #2: A Kick in the Ass

            So it turns out sometimes I can turn into a real whiney baby.  I don’t mean your average weeper; I am a top grade whiner.  When I lost the shop, I felt like I lost a huge part of myself.  A piece of my identity if you will, despite my best efforts to believe that wasn’t true, however it was true.  Losing the shop meant I now had to focus on what I had been avoiding for the past four years.  Isn’t that a bitch.  How many times have I had people tell me I am a writer?  Probably as many times as I have had people tell me that I am a healer and psychic, though we aren’t going to get into the multiple definitions that those two things can represent.  Tonight, we focus on the realm of writing.  Damn.  Well last Saturday we had a fund raiser through the shop’s new office to raise money for Mr. Redd Head.  On a side note I would like to thank all of the people who stopped by and donated online!  You are awesome!  At this event Leah was doing readings for donation.  I trust Leah’s readings, mostly because when she says something she’s right.  Damn Aires.  I have been in a downswing since the close of the shop and I was looking for the next step.  I know I’m supposed to be writing, but all those lovely negative thoughts were pushing to the surface and I was wondering if I was just deluding myself.  So I hit Leah up for a reading.  It wasn’t so much the reading that got me, although that was very good and very accurate as usual.  It was the conversation that took place just before the reading.  Janis mentioned that one of her clients was talking about a woman named Debbie Bugg.  I’m not sure I spelled her name right, hopefully.  Anyway, Debbie escaped Clarksville a year or two ago.  Janis was talking about how she realized that the woman she was talking to was talking about Debbie.  Peggy chimed in and said that she had just had a connection with Debbie, I can’t remember now if she thought about her or was talking about her as well, I was too shocked.  As they were talking I realized I had, had a dream about Debbie just a couple of days earlier.  After I busted into the conversation with this information it hit me, something that Debbie had told me in the only reading or real contact I had ever had with her.  She said, “I’m not suppose to swear, but you’re a fucking writer!”  Leah’s card reading was accurate, but the chain of friendship and information that was passed around brought me back to reality with a rather large bump.  The Universe Rocks!  Eventually I guess I’m going to have to get over myself and accept, I am a fucking writer!

I Am the Weakest Link!

            Right about now there are a couple of people going, oh yeah, that’s what she said!  In all honesty this is sort of a continuation of the above tidbit.  So brace yourself for additional whiney baby.  It’ll be all right, I promise.  So two things that we need to look at, well probably more than two, but let’s start with that.  One, I have found that people seem to think I know what I’m talking about and that makes me uncomfortable, in fact it makes me feel like a right old fraud.  Second, the problem of identity.  Let’s address this last one first. 

            When the shop closed I was okay with it.  I understood why it was happening, and I was looking forward to getting started at the new office.  I went to PA for my tour of poop stained toilet paper, and came back somewhat refreshed, if not more appreciative of a sewer system that can handle toilet paper.  I came back and realized that I had nothing to do.  It was about a week before I broke down crying telling myself that without the shop I was useless.  The shop had given me the opportunity to use my talents and that was gone.  Now what?  I equated the shop with the usefulness of my talents.  It took me a minute to realize that I had taken on the shop as a part of my identity, something I strive very hard not to do.  Without the shop I wasn’t important.  It took a day more to break that down.  I was having yet another crying fit about my uselessness when a thought rolled into my head, when the shop closed did I suddenly cease to be me, or have the talents I had when the shop was open?  It was a good question.  Good enough to make me slow up on the waterworks.  Did the shop give me my talents, such as organization and a good memory, or did I have them before I went to the shop and they just got honed by what I learned there?  I knew I still had a good memory, and the only reason I haven’t got my house organized is because I’m in some kind of struggle against it, but that’s for another blog.  I still had everything I had when I walked into the shop when I walked out, so what was the problem?  Part of that problem, and this is a guess, is because finding another job and applying myself to that job means I have to let go of the shop once and for all.  I fear that means losing other things as well, mainly of course, my friends.  I don’t have the easiest time finding and making friends, and losing them is unthinkable.  So I put up this lovely block, which I am now conscious of, to slow myself down.  Which means I have to take a chance, I have to move on.  I can’t linger and allow myself to keep the shop as my identity, it’s not who I am, not now, not ever.  I’m Sara Pulvermacher, and I’m a lot of other things too.  Time to embrace change.

            Going back to the first item on tonight’s whiney baby list, people seem to think I know what I’m talking about.  In some cases, I suppose I do.  It makes me uncomfortable though.  To be honest it makes me think a lot of Angel.  I have lost friends because they put me on this pedestal and then when I can’t do or say what they want me too, or when I just can’t handle the pressure anymore, the friendship goes to crap.  My one friend Lana used to call me all the time begging me to give her some guidance because she believed that I had some answer that she didn’t.  Though there were other factors involved that friendship ended.  I have another friend that does the same thing now.  I have to stop and wonder why that happens.  I must play some role in it.  For my second friend it was that I introduced her to the spiritual world.  I opened the door and she flew through it.  That can come back to bite you.  Not that you shouldn’t help people or introduce people to new ideas, but sometimes a little bit of a good thing can be very bad.  I have one friend that had a reading, not from me, four years ago and is still going off that information.  She often calls asking me questions whether I think this is in line with her reading.  I have tried to tell her that in that much time, things have changed, but she doesn’t hear me.  I think part of the reason that I stay in the background is because I don’t want to be number one, or five or twenty-two.  I’ll take whatever number is last, thanks.  I don’t want to be responsible for answering people’s questions.  It’s too much responsibility.  Because what happens when you can’t answer the question?  What happened to people seeking out their own answers?  Shouldn’t people search for their own truths?  I realize you could argue that people need a guide, or someone to help them take that first step, I’m just not sure that person should be me.  I have no more knowledge than the next person.  I get confused just like everyone else, and like everyone else I sometimes ignore what I know I’m supposed to be doing.  

            That’s when I feel like I am the weakest link!  I am the first one to question myself to death, to analyze something until there is nothing left to analyze and then I analyze that.  I am also a lousy liar apparently.  If I did something wrong, you can tell.  I’ll throw myself on hot coals and admit my weaknesses.  The one thing that I wish is that I could use that same energy to admit my strengths.  Then it could be someone else’s turn to be the weakest link!