Gone

This woman,
This woman here
In front of me,
This is not my mother.
My mother is kind,
Brimming with maternal
Wisdom
And
Knowledge of
How the World Works.
She knows the
Perfect words to soothe my
Battered feelings
And my shattered heart.
She laughs when I am happy,
Encourages when I am defeated,
Sympathizes when I am outraged.
Her eyes sparkle with
The experience earned from
A life of military homemaking
In unfamiliar territories,
Unafraid but challenged.
She is always there with
A warm hug,
A caring smile,
Words to bolster,
Love in her heart--
If not on her lips.

But this woman,
This woman who chooses
To berate me for
Endless 'wrongs' that I
Have committed,
She cannot be my mother.
She accuses my allegiance has
Slipped
From 'her side' to that of
My best friend and her family,
That I have turned against
Her
And all that she has done for me.
She claims my affections are
Lost
To her,
Yet she is the one
Who delivers the rare hug
As if it is a duty,
Not a joy.
No more words
For encouragement,
For laughter,
For wisdom,
For knowledge,
For soothing;
Only for tearing down happiness,
For deconstructing
Confidence and
Self-esteem.
Independence.
A life.

I cry for my mother,
Lost to this
Angry, bitter, infirm
Shell of a woman
Who nurtures a
Hatred
For the world that
Stole the only
Person
Who ever truly
Understood--
Or loved--
Her
Almost a quarter century before.
I cry for my mother,
Lost to the
Minuscule blood clot
That stole her
Personality
And replaced it with
A stranger's.
I cry for my mother,
Lost to the
Confusion and
Irrationality
Of her own mind.
I cry for myself,
Lost,
Because my mother is

Gone.

My Baby Dumplin

Dumplin and I found each other in September of 1997. I was going into Wal-Mart and saw this woman sitting out front with a big basket on a table next to her. Inside were 3 tiny kittens, 2 brothers and a sister, all jet black with green eyes and ribbons tied around their necks. This woman had found these little darlings in her yard when they were 2 wks old; their mother had been hit by a car. She took them in and raised them until they were 8 wks old, then decided to give them away. I said to Lisa, "Let's look at the kittens." Now, for me, who'd never had a pet before, and wasn't really looking for one, this was completely out of character. But over we went. As soon as I stepped up to the basket, this one kitten came straight over to me, put his front paws on the rim, and looked at me like, "You finally made it! Let's go home, Momma." When I picked him up, he immediately walked partway up my arm, being very quiet but acting comfortable with me. After I'd put him back in the basket, he wouldn't let anyone else pick him up; he'd fuss, hiss, and try to claw them. But with me, he was a little angel.

And so began Life with Dumplin.

He was adorable. He captured my heart right then, and he never let it go. I mean, come on, how could you resist this face?

He was so small, all four feet fit on my ankle.

I found out early on that Dumplin liked to "talk". Every time he went to the back of the apt, he'd meow as if to say "Hello! I'm in here!" So I started calling "Hello!" back to him each time. Pretty soon he started saying "Ma-rayw!" whenever I was out of his sight. It became a game for us in short time. Over the years, Dumplin also fashioned his own versions of "Momma/Mommy", "no", "Rain", and "all right?"

Then there were the acrobatics. He loved to jump to reach his toys that hung from the top of closet doors: 6 feet or more straight up from the floor. As he came down, he would twist in mid-air like Shamu at Sea World and land perfectly on his feet.

And he grew. Oh boy did he grow. The tiny, runt-of-the-litter furball turned into Catzilla almost overnight, it seemed. In 6 months' time, he went from that little cutie up there to this:

Quite a difference, yeah? At his very heaviest, he hit 16 lbs. (Dr Cindy said then that there was too much Dumplin, so he whittled down to 12 lbs.)

About this time I noticed his fur had become glossy, like patent leather, and that he moved like a black panther. Turns out he was part Bombay, an unusual breed to find as a stray.

Dumplin was smarter than the average cat; you could tell him something, and he would respond appropriately, either in actions or in vocalizations. I talked to him like he was another person.

Maybe he was.

And maybe I'm a fool for thinking this, but I believe I'll find him again. He was too stubborn and full of life to stay gone once he left. I'm gonna start looking; I'll know when I find him.

Missing you, baby Dumplin.

xo Momma

to Frank

I keep trying to start this but can't figure out how to say what I want to say. It was a real shock to read your tweet from the other day, the one about the twins. I mean, don't get me wrong, I understand how angry you must have been to see those pictures. But saying to the people who posted and reposted the picture that you hate them and wish they'd die...wow. More than likely, the person who posted the pic originally was a teenage girl, a fan, who'd seen the pic somewhere and wanted to share it with her friends. Most teenage girls love babies; they see babies as the ultimate sign of love between a couple. As in, "Aren't they so happy, they've got these sweet, adorable babies and they're so in love and it's perfect!" Basically, babies make them feel good about everybody.

Your fans love you guys, and they love to talk about you and share information and experiences. You've given them access to you and your lives, and they all appreciate that. I would guess that none of them ever wanted to hurt you by posting pictures of the twins. Kids don't understand the dangers that could be out there concerning famous people's babies. They don't stop to think, "Oh, if I put this pic on the Internet, someone could see it who'd want to take them." That wouldn't even cross their minds. They just want everyone to see the "cutest little babies in the world", if you will.

Like I said earlier, these are your fans. They don't have ulterior motives. Look at it this way: you've just told a bunch of girls half your age that you hate them all and want them to die because they put up a picture of your kids. I know about reactionary anger, how something hits you the wrong way and you just explode. I do the same thing. But, whereas my reaction won't really matter in the long run, yours will. You're in the public eye, and like it or not, people judge you by what you do and/or say. Lot of kids got turned way off by that comment you made. Maybe if you'd said, "Hey, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't post pics of my kids, thanks for your help," the fans would be watching out for folks who did, and telling them, "Frank doesn't want you to do that" and getting the pics taken off the Web. You'd have your own monitors, so to speak.

Remember I tweeted you and said you shouldn't write when you're angry? I say this out of experience. Give yourself a chance to cool down, think about what you want to say, and then write. Saves you some hassle later on. Oh, and when you take snaps of your girls on stage with you, maybe turn them so the audience can't see them. That way you stop this from happening again. Just a thought.

I don't blame you for being angry. I just don't like it to come back and bite you in the ass.

Take care of yourself.

xo jen

Things You May Not Know About Lisa

--Today's her birthday. YAY!
--She's a really good cook, and most of her recipes are "self-created".
--She was born and raised Methodist.
--She is related to more people than possibly exist in Texas.
--Over the years she's had not only rabbits as pets, but also cats, dogs, birds, fish, a hamster, and a snake. Not all at once. And not all in the house.
--Her grandmother was a full-blooded Cherokee, and could throw a hatchet with deadly accuracy. Lisa has inherited this skill. O_o
--She doesn't have one favorite musical performer, but many, including U2, My Chemical Romance, Pink, The Ramones, Henry Rollins, anybody punk, and Tchaikovsky.
--She reads up to six different books at a time, and remembers what each one is about, details from the text, and what page she's on.
--She likes to play pool.
--She likes to swim.
--Guinness is her favorite beer.
--She'd rather eat steak than any other meat.
--She can shoot a BB gun and a .44.
--Her ability to do complicated math problems in her head amazes me.
--She's normally a really laid-back, easygoing person, but once her temper's riled up, get out of the way.
--She's an extremely talented artist.
--She loves Italian food, Chinese food, and sushi.
--And COFFEE. Do not deprive this woman of her coffee. Bad things will happen.
--She's one of the most loyal people you'll ever meet.
--She's the only person who consistently makes me laugh.
--I've never met anyone else like her; she is truly unique.
--She's the best friend I've ever had, and probably always will be.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LISA! You shweet thang, you.
xo jen

Squee

Wednesday we saw The Architects, Thursday, and My Chemical Romance at the Tabernacle in Atlanta. The venue's a renovated church in downtown, complete with original wood flooring and stained-glass windows. The acoustics are wonderful; it's just the right size for a concert.

The Architects were first, but unfortunately we didn't get to see much of them, being in line first to get in, then for t-shirts, then for drinks. What we heard of them was really good, though, and I'd like to hear more of them. Thursday was next; I'd never seen them before either, and they were awesome. Geoff has this compelling stage presence, he is everywhere with that mic, swinging it, pumping the stand, practically impaling himself on it. I don't know the names of the rest of the band, but they're tight, on the spot with their music. My favorite song of theirs was "Jet Black Mirror".

I've seen a total of 8 MCR shows, but their ATL show was beyond the best of the other seven. The energy, the technique, Gerard's voice, the song choices, everything, was right there. Frank kept the rhythm going with extra riffs, "noises" like the howls in "House of Wolves", etc, and his usual head-banging chord slamming. Gerard mostly stalked the stage, but he had the audience in the palm of his hand the whole time with that incredible voice. Ray seemed really intent on his playing but provided a steady stream of backing vocals. Mikey was his usual calm self, holding the beat. Shred (as I call him) is an amazing drummer and a perfect fit in the band. And Dewees? He's right up there in Nick Rhodes territory, if you ask me.

They played a good mixture of songs from all four albums, and a few you might not've expected, like "Hang 'Em High" and "Our Lady of Sorrows". Have to say, though, that the new songs stood out like a beacon: "Planetary" literally rocked the place, with everybody jumping to the beat and the bass drum/guitar pounding through the floorboards. "Vampire Money" is one of the best rave-up punk songs written in a looooong time; Ray shines on that one, with a solo that should set the strings on fire. He's a frighteningly talented guitarist, and way underappreciated.

My personal favorite was "Bulletproof Heart", which exploded like fireworks out of the calm, almost-sweet-sounding opening. The crowd went wild with that one, too; I was singing my lungs out the whole time. I love that song, man.

We were able to get to the "back barrier", standing right behind the sound and lighting guys, on the left side between Frank and Gerard (our favorite place to be, yeah!). Straight shot to the stage, not a lot of heads or arms in the way, it was great. And the crowd was fantastic! Lots of guys there this time, and a wide range of ages, from teens to grandparents (and lots of us, uh, not so much either one). We all enjoyed it, and everybody was polite, does that make sense? No rude yelling or nasty remarks, just real fans who wanted to hear the music.

And hear the music we did. It was tremendous music, and so well done. They're getting better and better all the time. I really hope to see them again on this tour; maybe they'll be back around the States after all the European festivals. MCR has raised the bar, and raised the roof. KILLJOYS, MAKE SOME NOISE!

***************************************************

Just wanted to let y'all know that "Here's the Sex Pistols" has been deleted due to a security breach. I have no plans to restore it. "Never Mind the Bollocks" will be my only blog from now on, and I plan to be posting more often.

For those of you who read SP, the feelings haven't disappeared; only the words are gone.

Rise Above
xo jen

I Know That This Is Not Goodbye

JANICE ELAINE KECK - of Franklin, TN passed away on Feb. 20, 2011.



She was born on June 2 in Middlesboro, KY. She was Director of the Williamson County Public Library System, a position she had held since 1979. She grew up in a military family and traveled widely both as a child and as an adult. Janice was a member of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. She graduated from Mount Clemens High School in Mount Clemens, Michigan. She received her undergraduate degree in Russian Language and Literature from Oakland University in Rochester, Michigan. Her Master of Library and Information Science was earned at the University of Tennessee and her Masters Degree in Public Administration was from Tennessee State University. She had completed her coursework toward a Doctoral Degree in Public Administration. In addition to her work for the Williamson County Library, Janice was dedicated to Franklin and was very active in the community. She was President of the Williamson County Cultural Arts Commission, Vice-President of the Williamson County Council for the Written Word, Interim President of the Tennessee Writer’s Alliance, and a member of the Board of Directors of Nexus Chamber Orchestra. Janice inaugurated the participation of the Williamson County Public Library in the Sister Cities of Franklin and Williamson County Program and served on its Board. Janice served on the Advisory Council Board for the Fifty Forward College Grove.

Preceded in death by her father. She is survived by her mother, her daughter Julia P. (John P.) of, Franklin, TN and New Orleans, LA ; sister Diana L. (James L.); sister Jennifer Keck; nephews Christopher L. (Neila L.) and Joshua L., all of Knoxville, TN. She is also survived by many loving friends. Her loss is devastating and she will be missed forever.

Memorial Services will be conducted 11 AM Saturday, February 26, 2011 at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Rev. Robert Cowperthwaite officiating. Visitation will be 5-8 PM Friday at the church. Following the service on Saturday, there will be a reception at the Williamson County Public Library of Trustees. Graveside services and interment will be held at 1:30 PM on Tuesday, March 1, 2011, at Highland Memorial Cemetery, 5313 Kingston Pike, Knoxville, TN.

In lieu of flowers, memorials may be made to the Janice Keck Memorial Fund c/o Williamson Memorial Funeral Home, 3009 Columbia Ave, Franklin TN, 615-794-2289. www.williamsonmemorial.com