You rescue the losers
So come and rescue me.

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Name: haley


Interests: learning to be grateful. experiencing freedom in worship. prophecy. dance. birthing and raising children naturally. paint, clay, making bright messes. exemplifying the body of Christ in my relationship with my husband. learning with him to love unabashedly. realizing my femininity. sharing. living this life. blessed life.
Occupation: www.andeahmik.com
Industry: myspace.com/clarissemclellan


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AIM: O Consuming Fire


Member Since: 11/20/2002

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Monday, December 14, 2009

been workin for two days on a painting 4x4ft. an alphabet thing for zadok's room with folk arty letters and birds. I just love the smell of paint, the feel of the textures, paper shredding under my fingers, watching the letters print out, one by one, 26 sheets, making stencils and plans, sketching out a grid with a sharp pencil on found wood, fucking it up, fixing it again, changing it some more, screwing it to the wall so that there's something bright for my little boy to look at. i could do this more often.

 

 


Thursday, December 10, 2009

I am encased in cold fish.
Cold watery fish and bathroom tiles with black curly hairs stuck on.
Hair that needs to be brushed while he squirms and flails one arm trying to latch on to furniture, pull away.
Soup that needs to be wedged into the fridge. Soup I spent two days making that almost no one will eat.
I am surrounded by bits of playdough that have hardened and now lay waiting in the carpet to perplex.
Freezing cold feet that need to move, connected to legs too tired to stand.
Teeth that ask to be brushed and gums that are angry and collecting weird colored pus from the extraction.
I am a to do list and not much else. I ask myself how I'm feeling and a robot responds with chores and an assesment of the husband's emotional status.
I am sleep.


Wednesday, December 09, 2009

against reason and against the shards of dried carrot slicing through my feet as i walk across the hairy unkempt carpet, against the baby rifling through crayons picking his favorite flavor to eat and against Zadok watching some dragon tales show that I am positive is melting his brain cells, I am here, trying to write.

And the husband walks in and says "stop everything that you're doing."


Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Lord:

In an irrevrent world,

make me reverent.

In a tasteless culture,

let me be salt.

In a loud, proud land,

give me meekness.

In an Earth of orphans,

let me be a mother.

 

 

 


Monday, December 07, 2009

Yesterday was amazing.  I went to Swope Park Health Clinic here in Kansas City, and for $40 they pulled two of my teeth.  It wasn't all crazy ghetto either, it looked like a state of the art medical facility. Not that I'm a big fan of those places either, but at least I wasn't worried I was going to bring some lice home as a bonus prize.

I was so nervous I was visibly shaking. I wrote a ridiculous poem while in the waiting room- apparently writing, and diarrhea, are my two outlets for stress...

When the dentist came in I gave him my usual sphiel about how I have a phobia of dentists and could he pretty, pretty please NOT cause me any more trauma... and by the way other dentists have noted my extreme freakish sensitivity and have, in the past, used an excess of chemicals to numb me, to the point that they get all wide-eyed and scared as they administer more and more shots of whatever that numbing stuff is into my overly nerved-up gums.

This guy was all sensitivity.. he basically GRUNTED in response to whatever I said, and once he started, I was convinced that I was numb because I spent the 15 minutes he was gone from the room after my shots were administered, stabbing myself in the gums with my fingernails to assure myself that I WAS numb for REAL... but then it still hurt here and there and when I tried to tell him his response was to totally and COMPLETELY ignore me. 
So I pretended things like, he was just digging my teeth out with his fingers (I keep my eyes CLOSED the whole time, visions of sharp metal things going in and out of my mouth don't work for me while I'm trying to relax there) ...and I listened to Monroe singing worship, which I had on my IPOD, and visualized the days back in New Orleans with Ande Ahmik.. it was sweet.  Helped a lot.

Then the guy pulled one of my molars out and proceeded to drop it down my throat... some gargling and gagging later he retrieved it with his big cave-man hand. 

Seriously though, I wouldn't necessarily recommend this particular GUY, but the clinic itself was pretty awesome.  For $40 anyway.  Definitely a good resource here in the city for anyone who needs dental work and can't afford to go somewhere where they DON'T drop your teeth into your throat.  Or jab those veins under your tongue with the tooth drill thing.

So a few more incidents later (did I mention he sprayed my own blood all over my face with the spray/suck thing?  They were careful to clean me up though.. THAT would be disconcerting for the other patients, methinks) ..I was the proud new owner of a giant, gaping hole in my mouth that would proceed to bleed off and on for days.  I started this post a few days ago and am just now weaning myself nervously off of the codeine. 

But for all the antics on behalf of the dentist there, I was and am very excited and proud about the whole experience.  I'm not excited that half my mouth is off limits to food, which can make eating pretty tricky, let me tell ya.  But dang, I am awesome. I have effectively conquered a phobia that began when I was eight years old or so and was HELD DOWN in a dentists' chair, screaming, while he pulled my broken, infected teeth out with not enough anesthetic.
I've had issues with dentists my whole life, fearing them and at the same time seeing their help as some kind of holy grail I would never be able to obtain.  I've wanted braces since I was eight years old as well, when even the TEACHERS at my school would jokingly call me 'snaggletooth' when they saw me in the hallway.  It's amazing what some redneck insensitivity in .05 seconds can effect, calling for hours or years of inner healing therapy.

But my husband has taken the whole issue on as a personal mission and has promised me time and time again that he will take care of all my dental shtuff, even though it has cost him several thousand dollars and will cost much, much more very soon.

I'm getting braces! wheeeeeee!

I know older people than me have gotten them but it's still gonna be pretty ridiculous. ly cute.

So as insane as the above scenario may have been it was an answer to prayer, ending the first phase of a whole lotta BS on behalf on my teeth and my childhood.  The dentist that administered 14 fillings, two root canals, and two extractions this past May told me that 1) he didn't know why I wasn't in excruciating pain, 2) it was definitely the worst dental situation he'd ever seen (this is on the border of Mexico, folks), and 3) it was obvious that I had issues stemming back to my childhood.

I was like 1) prayer 2) gee thanks and 3) I guess that's what Living Waters is for. hmmmmm.

But these last two extractions close the door on all of that and now I get to go into phase 2: Metalmouth - Livin' the Dream! - .

Seriously though, it's exciting and I wanna give a shout out to Monroe for making it happen. And the Lord. He knows we just couldn't afford this if it weren't for divine something-something.

Also note I wrote this on painkillers, so I blame that for all the YELLING, dramatizing, and mental air-fives I've been giving myself as I write.

The dentists' assistant, who was way more concerned with Tiger Woods and the current drama surrounding than she was with the fact that she was helping a caveman cut teeth out of my head, wouldn't let me take home my trophies, that is, my bloody shards of molar that they extracted which she deemed 'health hazards'. 
So I have no photo to leave you with- so go with this-

The typical scene of a kid with pigtails kicking and screaming while a fat, bald dentist drills blithely away... and then that kid getting bigger and kicking the crap out of that dentist.  That's how I feel even though in truth, he just smiled in an ever so slightly condescending way while I signed papers with hands shaking so badly my signature scrawled all over the paper. 

Well.. SOMEONE got kicked the crap out of-
I think it was my fears, phobias, and low self esteem about being worth thousands of clams just so's my teefs will look purty (and stop rotting out of my head).

That's cool. I'm glad some theoretical butt got kicked, anyway.  It still satisfies my inner child.

<3

 

Haley



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