 It seems really strange to imagine that just two months ago I was 10,000 miles away. 10,000 miles away from my mother, my friends, and everything I have grown to know of as home. It was a mere two months ago that I flew home in a daze to say my final goodbye to my mother, my god how the time flew. I find it incredibly hard to believe that two months ago my mother's life rested somewhere between tangibility and nothingness, but the truth of the matter is that in these past two months I have been given a second chance to show her just how important she is to me, she on the other hand has been given a second chance to live, to love, and to thrive.
A few days ago one of my brothers, one of my sisters, and I met with the staff at the nursing home that is taking care of my mom, we sat down in a quiet room with the door closed and talked about the next stage, it was in that room with the door closed that we were told that if her rapid recuperation persisted, that she would be able to go home in time for her birthday (which is March 25th). I have never in my life felt a larger weight lifted off of my shoulders! I feel as though life may actually be able to continue on as normal, rather than just hanging out in this stagnant place that harbors dark, dreary days and unsure outcomes. Also, it seems important to note that spring is knocking, and that soon enough the sun will shine!
 There are those people in life that get off on watching you fail, it makes them feel good about themselves when they know that there are other miserable people out there. To those negative miserable people I say a big SCREW YOU! I am barely hanging on most days, and the fact that the moment you see your opportunity you don't think twice before swooping right in and cutting the proverbial thread that is my patience and sanity, well that makes me angry! You can steal my thunder if it makes you happy, but c'mon with it when it is my feelings, that is just wrong. I do my damndest to try and be the most ethical and moral person possible, I may have my moments (hell even days) of bitterness, but usually those are are just that, MOMENTS! i try and tell myself that people that act like this do it because they have issues with themselves, but HOT DAMN, some days enough is enough! Thanks for listenin' to the bitchin'.
xoxoxoxoxo
Nicole
 Dear Readers, this is a blog of different sorts, this is a blog about teenage infidelity and adult tendencies. While it is not overly PG, I do believe that perhaps it is a bit more risque than the norm...that being said, a shout-out to all of my NK sisters (especially the RG girls)
(I feel as though I should clarify for all of my nk sisters out there, I am simply in the midst of a Jordan tendency, these come and go, but rest assured Mr. Wood remains my main squeeze throughout all of this!) Now on to the good stuff.....
Dear Mr Knight,
I just thought you should know that your falsetto makes me think dirty thoughts, and your steps to Give it to You kinda make squirm. The way you move is almost enough to make me forget the pedo-stash from the Face the Music years, and the rat tail (OMG the rat tail), I say almost, because the rest of it is made up for in the way you handle yourself in humorous situations, your adorable dimples and shy laugh, all I can say is mmmmmmmmmmmmm!!!!!!
If given the chance to spend an hour alone with you, I would most likely have to decline the invitation, as it is uncertain how I would react when I saw you up close or god forbid smell your cologne ( I am not 100% sure that my boyfriend would appreciate bailing me out of jail, and while they say that that's what friends are for I truly believe that mine would encourage such behavior).So there you have it,I am absolutely ok with living here in my little fantasy world in which all of the NK's fight over me not only because of my good looks, but because of my brilliance (ahahahahahahaha), where I can have an NK for each day of the week, concert tickets are front row and free, Covergirl is whispered in my ear on a regular basis, and cupcakes are had by all!
I don't remember much before the age of five or so (as many don't I am sure). But from that time on, the memories come to me like a flood, the sun-soaked days spent building "girls only" club houses in the front yard, the games of Simon Says with the neighbors mom in which I always lost, the disaster of a lemonade stand that turned no profits but was a great learning experience. Those truly were the days! It was in those days that I learned the value of friendship, what cucumbers tasted like with salt, and that no matter how much I thought I was, that I wasn't really a rebel at all. The rebel years came much later, when I learned how to hold a cigarette, do a lemon drop shot, and live with the consequences of both.
It was in those early years that the most crucial aspects of my personality were formed. In that time, I was taught many lessons.....
Be kind to all : this lesson was learned due to the childish and catty behavior that the neighbor boy and I showed to the kid down the road. I look back now and wonder how I thought it possible to pick on somebody that had no defense, that had no boy next door standing by his side backing him and spewing forth the childish taunts and sharp words that I did. I too was picked on as a child, but who wasn't? And excuses such as that are no excuse to release your aggression on an innocent bystander. I can honestly say now that while I look back on that situation with regret heavy in my heart, that I do my damnedest to show kindness and generosity in equal measure to everyone I come across, after all we are all human, we are all in this together.
Value your relationship with your parents: Although in my teenage years, I decided that my parents sole purpose was to make my life hell (what angst I held) I knew before then and learned further later that this couldn't have been farther from the truth. My parents wanted nothing but good things for me, as most parents do; but you could have sworn on a pack of Marlboros during my teenage years that they were only trying to look out for me and I would have rolled my eyes and spat some sort of catty remark out as though it were my job. Here I sit years later, looking back on my teenage years minus one parent and the other on the brink of here and gone, and I can tell you from the depths of my being what it means to appreciate them. I appreciate every word I am capable of sharing, every lingering hug and forehead kiss, because from where I stand today, I can see the end, and while I know it is inevitable I want to face it with an open heart and quiet understanding.
Don't love the first boy that you fall for (on second thought, DO love the first boy you fall for): If you know me quite well, then you know the name of my first love, if not I am not going to use his name because I am not capable of contacting him for permission, but we will call him Ben. I met Ben when I was sixteen, and he quickly became my world, we were each others worlds quite honestly, we revolved around each other and depended on each other for every last breath. This kind of love I understand now is smothering and codependent, but man at sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and part of nineteen it felt glorious ! I had a boy that wanted ME and only me, and he LOVED me. I was the luckiest girl in my high school, he waited patiently everyday for me out front of that school,in his pseudo-station wagon, with a smile on his face and tendrils of long hair in his eyes, ready to head out and see what sort of adventure we could find or trouble we could cause. It was through him that I was able to gain the basic concept of what love is, it was also through that I was able to know what it felt like to be completely smothered and feel the flame of lust and adoration snuffed out slowly and painfully. My god did it hurt at the time, to see him hurt so bad and know that I caused it,but looking back I am incredibly grateful for the roller coaster of emotions that I felt back then, good or bad, I felt alive, I felt alive without consequence, and never again will I be able to say that. So yes, go ahead and fall stupid head over heels in adoration and drooling puppy love, because you will never feel that again, it is a one time reserved feeling!
Appreciate your friendships: It is true and it is sad that friendships fade from high school into adulthood, and as much as it sucks, it is a fact of life.I have to say that when it comes to this subject I have been exceptionally lucky, the friend dearest to me has been dear to me since birth, she was born about two years after me. We were reared together, we had nicknames together, we share blood, she is my niece. It was always fun trying to describe this situation to people that didn't understand our family, so most of the time we chose to just understand each other. She and I by every definition grew up together, we were in may instances closer than sisters, and also at times worst enemies, we went long periods of time not speaking and holding grudges (which we both excel at), but here we are today, women! Women that have come to know heartbreak as well as pure joy, women that have traveled and ventured, women that have overcome obstacles others doubted, women! I cannot speak for my her, but she is very much a part of me, we may live miles and miles apart and not even speak everyday, we may work in totally opposite spectrum's of the career world, we may be as different as two people could possibly be, but I appreciate her for what she has shown me, allowed me to understand, and for being my friend, I appreciate her for the childhood memories I hold so dear (as well as the one's I wish to forget) I appreciate her!
You are never too old to watch cartoons and eat cereal out of the biggest bowl in the house: It's all about the inner child, I am not sure that I have yet grasped this concept, but I am well on my way. I have recently come to the conclusion that regression may not be healthy, but appreciating the unrestricted freedom of a Saturday morning, work nonexistent, and obligation only to the remote control, that is healthy!!! God those were the days, the days when I would wake up early just to watch cartoons with commercial introductions sung in the catchy "After these messages we'll be riiiight back" tune, eating fruit loops or whatever sugar high of a cereal was on hand at the time, those mornings when I felt completely free and had no idea at the time that that was freedom. I will never be able to recreate those mornings, but man reliving the memory sure brings back a rush (or maybe that is from the cereal).
You always think you know more than you do: From what I can tell, this will be true your whole life (exhibit A. this whole list), you will always assume that because we are such worldly creatures, that we know almost everything. We know a little bit about a lot of things, but as far as massive mind blowing, life altering epiphanies go, we don't really know jack. It feels good to believe that we are shedding light on the life of someone else, with wisdom from our own, but really, honestly, it is self fulfilling. I don't mean this in a derrogatory way, just that as simply as I can put it, we always think we know more than we do, and good for us, it is good to believe something.
xoxoxoxoxo
Nicole
Here's the deal, I no longer reside in a foreign country worthy of blogs about homesickness and weather, which is why I began this blog, but I would like to continue maintaining it. I know that it is a small circle of peeps that follow it, and I would like to know what you want to read. I want to write to entertain those kind enough to drop by every now and then, and hopefully through reaching out and writing about what people want to read I can reach out to more and more people and get read more and more which would be awesome. So to those of you that have been kind enough to read, please comment and tell me what it is you want to hear about and I will do everything in my power to keep you informed and entertained.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Nicole
I am home. I boarded the plane leaving Australia in the early morning hours on December 19th, I boarded that plane with trepidation in hand and anguish in my heart. In the long hours that passed as I flew over Hawaii, Fiji, and all of the fantastic spans of ocean I attempted to prepare myself for what awaited me, this proved to be impossible, so I settled for Tylenol PM, in flight movies and Dustin's shoulder as a pillow. After over a days worth of traveling time logged, we arrived at the Moline airport, we were beyond tired and stressed. I am such a nostalgic mess that I cried when we landed, for no reason other than I was happy to be home, that ceased the moment we reached the gate that harbored our friends and family that had come to welcome us home. The first person I saw was my sister Amy, she was crying (which I chocked up to her being happy to see me/sad to see me under these circumstances)as I got closer, I realized that not only was she crying, she was sobbing and shaking...my heart hit the floor, I cannot recreate with words that feeling, I though for sure I was too late, that somewhere between Sydney and Los Angelas my mother had lost her fight. I was quickly swept away, away from friends and Dustin's family that were there to welcome us home, I was ushered in a trance-like state through the doors into a waiting vehicle. On the way to the hospital I was informed that my mom had been taken off of her life support without the presence of any family. I knew I was coming home to say goodbye to her, but I thought I would at least have that, well she hung on. I got to the hospital, wiped my eyes and soldiered my way through the doors of the intensive care unit, she was surrounded when I entered her room, but attention was quickly turned my way, she cocked her head ever so slightly and smiled at me, my heart melted. I walked to her side picked up her hand and told her how much I loved her, I told her all of the things you say to a person when you think it is your last time seeing them, I told her all of the gossip that I had been ever so eager for her to hear, I stood there beside her with nothing but the sound of beeping and breathing and accepted that I was soon going to have to face life without her. It is the weirdest feeling, accepting the most painful thing you could ever endure for the peace of someone you love without limits. In that room, among the beeps I looked at my withering mom, saw the pain in her eyes and accepted the terms of my future.
I accepted the loss of my mother, but my mother it seems has other plans. After days of being stuffed into the waiting room, sleeping on the floor (if at all), eating what my aunt was kind enough to cook for us, and showers that consisted of washing your armpits in the bathroom sink, all nine of us children met in her tiny room with her primary doctor to discuss where we were. We had already talked to the Dr. but wanted her to be present as her hallucinations at the time were pretty bad, and we wanted her to hear for herself what he said, that her lung capacity had shrunken to less than 16%, and that her chances of a full recovery were impossible, that the best choice in this situation would be to give her Morphine and let her painlessly slip away. She sat herself up in her bed (the most movement she had done in over 2 weeks), and declared that that wasn't an option. It was explained to her again that a full recovery was far less than likely, and that strenuous amounts of physical therapy would be necessary, and she just shrugged and accepted the challenge.
Well these last four weeks have been almost as emotionally taxing as the intensive care unit, but I am so happy to say that she is doing so much better, she is eating on her own, (full meals even), hasn't had a hallucination in about two weeks, and took seventeen steps today in physical therapy. She is herself again personality wise, she cracks jokes and watches tv, she wishes to see more of her children and grandchildren, but you can't force people out of their comfort zones and into their mother's life. She has visitors daily usually at least two, but sadly enough there are days that I go up at 9 PM and find out that I am the only one that has been there all day. This is not by any means me acting like a saint, because I am anything but, however people need to realize that the fears we had while we huddled together in that waiting room are not finished, she is going to get that ill again, and next time all of her fight will be used up and we will lose her, please I beg you, do yourselves a favor and go spend an hour with her, talk to her, laugh with her, and be damn thankful for the opportunity!
I feel like I should write, she always told me to write when things were rough as it is very therapeutic for me. I wonder if she had any idea that she would be my biggest inspiration, the reason I feel that I could sit down and tap out a 5000 page book on these black and white keys and never even think while doing it. The inspiration that she gives me seeps out of my very being, lately in the form of tears, but before then it was in my words. She taught me to love words, not just to love reading and writing, but to really adore words, it was through my love for words that I used to get laughed at for reading the dictionary, but not by her, I think she was proud that perhaps someday such an act would turn me into a phenom of a Scrabble player.
So here I sit writing. Writing about my mother as though she is gone already so that when I come back and read this in the future the dull ache that has materialized in my gut won't flare up with sickening realization that she is gone. The truth of the matter is that I am being selfish. My heart had never truly been broken before, I know this now that I know what a broken heart feels like, it isn't the empty stomach filled with uncomfortable and hyperactive butterflies that swells up and causes utter discomfort when a relationship goes sour. No, it in truth feels as though my heart is literally broken, and not just in terms of physical pain, but also in emotional loss. My heart is lost, I imagine it swimming around somewhere inside my chest looking for home, but there is no home to be had, home has been taken away and what is left is the wreckage and collateral damage of broken shards and lifeless blue veins.
You see, this is where I start to feel selfish, this is where I need to remind myself that she too is at a loss here, one much greater than any I feel as though I am experiencing. She is losing life, tangible contact with those she loves the most, she is the one that will never again enjoy her favorite ice cream, or her favorite tv shows, and for god's sake she is the one that will eventually never see the sun rise or the moon all bright and silver in the night sky. She is the one that is going to miss out on Christmas Carols and her brand new couch, her 70th birthday, and the tulips which I was going to present to her on my birthday this year.
I am the one forced to stand tall in this time of grief, I am the one that shall use this incredibly painful experience to lean on those closest to me, to call upon everyone I know that loves me and cares for me and allow myself to feel the comfort of their words and hugs and gracious offers.I am the one that will find peace in my siblings, though we are all incredibly different we all cut from the same loving cloth, it is with them that my grief will be shared and understood .
Not a day goes by that I don't cry, this whole week has been nothing but what I wish was just a bad dream. I got the call on Monday that my mom was in the hospital, and that this time things did not look good, she had been intibated and her lung capacity had shrunken to a mere twenty percent. I have known for a couple of years now that this day would come, that eventually her poor body would just begin to wane, but the thing is you always think it will happen later than sooner. As much as I knew, I was not ready, for God's sake I am in Australia, there is absolutely nothing I can do from here. I sought comfort in those closest to me, my sister and my boyfriend. My sister whom deserves special notation here wrapped her arms around me and offered me the most heartfelt hug I think I have ever received. I think in that moment we both knew that from here on out life was going to be harder, that this is only the beginning of the long road of trials minus the tribulations that awaits us as a family. In that hug we began the process of grievance that starts long before a death that you know is inevitable. And Dustin, you have been a rock, while everything around me changes, moves, and distorts you are my constant, you are the wiper of tears, the one that holds me up when my knees want nothing more than to give out.
I am not ready to be parentless, I am not ready to pick up the phone, dial her number and get a disconnected notice, I am not ready for life without her. I wanted her to be present at my wedding, if ever I chose to have children I wanted her to proudly coo over them, I wanted her to be proud of me when, if ever I decided what it is I want to do with my life. I know that she is not gone yet, that I should probably have a more optimistic outlook on things, which is true, however I know that from here on out things get harder and more serious. Hospital visits from here on out are no longer one week in one week out stints, but serious test-filled weeks, filled with bad news and last shreds of hope.
Everyday I hope a little harder that things will begin to look up a little bit, everyday I think of her, so small in that hospital bed with a tube shoved down her throat, everyday I wish that she gets a tomorrow.
I have been a very naughty blogger as of late. I have not posted a blog in so long that I have forgotten how long it has been. Why? I have no real reason why, instead I have many little reasons... Life has not been easy, and while those words may not mean much in themselves, allow me to say that I have been going through some times that I felt if shared would most certainly turn many away from me. All the while, I had that constant nagging at the back of my mind screaming, telling me that such a thing is not true. You see, in case you could not tell yet I am a bit of a headcase, I take small meaningless situations and turn them into problems of epic proportions.
I have been caught up in a whirlwind these last couple of months, and when I say that i don't mean in a cute Marilyn Monroe's dress kinda way, I mean in Dorothy meets the yellow brick road kinda way. My life has been lifted up, spun around, and dropped in some foreign place. It took me a while (like 6 months) to really realize that I am indeed far far away from "home", and that sometimes as cliche as it is you have only yourself to rely on. Which quite honestly is not exactly reassuring considering that I am more passive that fucking Winnie the Pooh.
I have been lost! I have been completely lifted from my comfort zone (cigarettes and all) and dropped into these new shoes in which I am trying to fit but am having a hard time wearing in. I had grown all too comfortable with my life or so I am being reminded on a daily basis, I should know by now to take life one day at a time and not plan too far into the future as it is never guaranteed, but does that stop me? Of course not...I like to think that is the dreamer in me, either the dreamer or the 10 year old that refuses to die!
I am trying my damndest to be a healthy and happy person, but damn it it is hard. I have quit smoking, (woohoo...apparently all that does is make you go through withdrawal....p.s this cynicism is momentary, it comes and goes) and started exercising, both HUGE giant steps toward a better Nicole, but alas I am let down by both. Quitting smoking is a bitch, I think about cigarettes more than sex and THAT is sad, and as far as the elliptical/exercise thing goes I have seen a total of seven pounds drop off. I have worked my ass off for two damn months and seen such a small number, screw that I say!!!! I tried running again yesterday with Dustin, and I remember why I hate it! I don't know how it is possible that people do it for fun, ( I hated it so much that I wanted to curse the poor people running by me that looked like they were enjoying themselves, don't worry though I am too passive to say anything to them so I waited until they passed and shared my frustration with Dustin) I will however lace my shoes up tomorrow and give it another go, quite honestly because I am stupid and still have dreams of some day resembling Kate Hudson!
I owe much more that all of that verbal diarrhea as an excuse for a two month hiatus, but quite honestly I can't really muster any more right now, I am currently frustrated and if I were to insert an emoticon here it would surely have little red cheeks and fury of birds flying around its head.
xoxoxoxo
Nicole
It has been nearly two months since my last cigarette, and while there are still few minor cravings here and there I am doing fairly well. My lungs are learning to function again, and aside from the few pounds gained I really have no complaints. I always claimed to know what it meant when it was said before that smoking is not just a habit but also a lifestyle, but in all honesty I though it was bogus, I assumed I had a dirty habit, and that once I kicked the habit and the addiction that I would be out of the woods. Well now I understand that those people weren't just blowing steam out of their bums, but were indeed speaking the truth. I find myself sad sometimes at the memories of good times I have had in the past in which those damn nicotine sticks were included, I also find myself wondering how I am supposed to have good times such as those ie. parties and outings, in which smokes are no longer a part of it. It is in moments such as those that I do not have some mind blowing epiphany in which I realize that I am a better and healthier person without them, rather I take a few deep breaths and work my way through it, slowly but surely. This has been the hardest thing I have ever done, and through it all it is not simply being a non-smoker that makes it worthwhile in the end, but knowing that willpower is not a sham, not a ploy to make people such as me with habits feel bad, but knowing that I am capable of making such a monumental change, and knowing that if I can do this, I can do anything really!
Lately I have gotten tired of bitching and moaning about the dissatisfaction I have towards my body, so I decided to do something about it. I decided to once again face the beast in the garage. I must say that while I previously accused this machine as trying to suck out my soul through use of my breath, and referred to it as a demon, I also promised a public apology to the elliptical if I were to find that these claims were figments of my imagination, and while I am not 100% sure that it is not inhabited by Stephen King's Christine, I do realize that alot of my resentment was due in part to me and my excuses. I can not yet claim to enjoy the exercise I endure while on said machine, however I have come a long way. Upon first stepping foot on it I lasted a mere six sad minutes, this later turned to fifteen, then to twenty, and now I am doing forty-five. I still have a long way to go, but damn, the feeling I get when stepping off of it is truly euphoric. My legs feel like wooden planks, my heart feels like it is literally trying to escape my chest, and I smell like a three day old sweat towel, but that feeling, I wouldn't even trade it for an orgasm.
Australia is beautiful, and getting more so by the day as the weather warms and the sun comes out. The warmer weather allows for us to be more adventurous as well, a few weekends ago we had our first contact with kangaroos and koalas, we took a day trip to Mount Lofty/Waterfall Gully with Michelle and Kevin, and what was supposed to be a day filled with discovering the beauty of mother nature and cute and cuddly animals turned into me cursing mother nature and her evil ways, and believing that Emu's are creatures of the devil put here to eliminate human kind. I will attempt to simplify this for shorter reading, but bear with me.
It was a beautiful sunny Saturday afternoon and we were taking the twists and turns of road that would lead us to Mount Lofty/Waterfall Gully/Cleland Wildlife Park, this day was promised to be filled with kangaroos, koalas , and other animals of Australia, which in the end it was, however what we had not planned was a mountain climb and a rather aggressive emu. We arrived at Waterfall Gully walked the short way to the first waterfall and took the obligatory photos of us in front of it, then Dustin and I headed up a little further to see the other waterfalls. It only took about ten minutes for me to grow irritable and uncomfortable, and took a mere fifteen minutes for the bitching and whining to ensue. (Now please allow me to explain that I came to pet kangaroos...not climb mountains.)
At this point I found a nice shaded rock to sit on while Dustin ventured a bit further, it was then that Michelle called and said that she and Kevin were going to drive to the top and for us to climb to the top and meet them since we had already gone so far. I should of a this point begged to ride to the the top with them, I should have thrown a temper tantrum, pleaded, anything to get me off of that mountain and into that car, but instead I hung up, found Dustin and together we began to climb. That was a bitch of a climb, and quite honestly I have no idea how the hell I made it without emergency care needed, I will say however that I bitched as though I was POW in a Kathy Lee sweatshop. I should have realized what we had gotten ourselves into when everyone around us was dressed in track pants and tennis shoes, and I was donned in skinny pants and cowboy boots (I even took the time to curl my hair and do my makeup that day).The highlights of our climb, the old couple that kept stopping and sitting yet still managed to keep up pace with us; when the old man looked at me and said "this is the tough part" (at the steepest point) in which I replied back through wheezing breaths "this..huff huff huff....sucks shit...huff huff huff" in which his lady friend replied "I agree"; the point in which I begged Dustin to drag me the rest of the way by my pony tail; the many times in which I wished I would die so that someone, anyone would carry me up; and my favorite, the point in which I declared that Jesus better be waiting at the top for me with a bottle of Fiji water in hand. The view at the top was stunning, and while there was no sign of Jesus my brother in law was kind enough to get me a bottle of water (it wasn't Fiji, but at that point it could have been vodka and I would have chugged it as though it were holy water and I was Hitler begging for forgiveness), and while my face was as red as my first zit, my mascara never ran.
After our climb, we headed to Cleland to see the roos, and kangas, and dingo's (I found out they don't really eat babies, not all the time anyway).
Upon arrival we bought bags of food in which we would use to lure the animals closer to us in order to take batter pictures, and headed out into the park. We saw many amazing things that day, including birds the color of candy, snakes that made me squirm, and alas kangaroos. We also saw emus, I thought these birds seemed docile enough so I decided to approach them a bit more with a handful of food, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a fury of feathers and two knobby legs running my way, it took longer than it should have for me to realize that this beast of an animal was charging at me, but when I did I ran like a lunatic the opposite way. That emu followed me until it was satisfied that I was far enough away and then allowed the other people to feed and pet it. (little bitch) I don't see what Jon Knight sees in those things...lol!
I suppose that about sums up the past month or so for me, I quit smoking, started exercising, and realized that I never again wish to climb a mountain. So on this note I say goodbye.
Cheerio!
Nicole
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