I read your words.

“I was sexually abused. How I hate typing those words. But they have been in my mind forever, swirling around, hiding at times, but it?¢‚Ǩ‚Ñ¢s always there.”

The words surrounding your experience and your life continued. They overlapped your initial words, until those words were almost forgotten under the layers of your current fears and challenges. You talked of how you coped, how you resisted touch, avoided nakedness, slept partially on guard and ready to flee. I focused on the *now* and it blurred your initial words. I believe these words to be true. I believe these words to be the truest words you ever wrote.

“I was sexually abused. How I hate typing those words. But they have been in my mind forever, swirling around, hiding at times . . .”

I do not believe that you shower in a bathing suit (have seen a photo of you standing outside in a towel, labeled “just got out of the shower”). I do not believe you sleep in sneakers (have never seen you in sneakers, period). I don’t believe you helped pull people from a burning car (there are no reports of a car fire and airlift in the news of the small town near where the event “happened”).

“I was sexually abused. How I hate typing those words. But they have been in my mind forever, swirling around . . .”

I believe you when you wrote

“I was sexually abused. How I hate typing those words. But they have been in my mind forever . . .”

I am angry that the next time I hear a survivor of abuse share his or her story, that I will have a seed of doubt when they share of their fear, of how that experience may continue to break them. I am angry at you, that because of embellishing your own story, you have cast doubt on every. single. fellow abuse survivor.

“I was sexually abused. How I hate typing those words.”

These words are your truth. Clear away all the other stories, all the other lies, all the other embellishments. The truth is ENOUGH. The truth is too much, it is plenty, it is bad enough, it is enough to merit you asking for help. You never needed to add all the other STUFF.

“I was sexually abused.”

Focus on those words. The true words. The four words that say everything. The four words that are so huge, that I understand you throwing other words in front of them to hide them from view. Face them. Deal with them. Move forward. You were always enough. Your truth was always enough. You never needed the rest of the words.

“I was sexually abused.”

Stop hiding from those words.

yeah right.

Katy sent me a couple of ziploc bags of fleece from Pink Cyclone and Hope – I’ve never spun before, even though I’ve had the drop spindle since Christmas.

I started with Pink Cyclone. After burying my face in the big puff of fiber for a loooong time, I got started.

It ain’t necessarily pretty, but for a first attempt, I’m pleased – it held together, so I got something right.

I’m working on an afghan that I’m patterning after a quilt I saw in a magazine, I used my brand new yarn in it.

That big puffy part that doesn’t quite match and is totally not the same weight yarn? Yeah, that’s mine.

I was going to wait to spin Hope’s fiber until I got some cards and was able to hand card it (like I think you are actually supposed to). I’m impatient and went for it today.

It’s an improvement over my initial try. I’m already making deals with myself over what I?Ǭ† have to do in order to get me some more fiber…. mmmmm …. soft alpaca fiber …. mmmmm…..

Now go see Katy for more fiber yummies.

Oh hai. It’s been a week since I posted. Whoops.

This week Katy asked us to think about fiber arts and father’s day. Now my hubs isn’t into the fiber arts, but he IS into our house not looking like sugar honey iced tea. With that in mind, I continued organizing the guest room/craft room.

I have a lot of buttons. I pondered and then saw a corkboard I never used. I stuck the buttons on straight pins and now I can find the buttons AND they actually are nice to look at.

For more Fiber Arts Friday see Alpaca Farmgirl.

I think some of you were ready to spit on me when I said I was starting with organizing a room in our house. I could hear the “oh yeh, you have a whole ROOM? #suckit)

I could have been more specific, but I knew I was getting ready to bore several of you and over stim Zoeyjane with glee when I showed you where I started.

I started with someplace I knew was only my business. I could have started with my purse, my maxipads and tampons, my makeup… but I started with the yarn that was taking over the entire house.

I’d read a suggestion about just using left over boxes for storing things, so I got over my perfectionist “oh but they have to MATCH” compulsion and started cutting boxes in half for yarn storage.

The initial result

nice little squees of yarn collected by color and fiber. Finished projects in one place.

The kicker? I unraveled every unfinished project I had. It had been at least 6 months since I touch any of them and I took them ALL apart. I have NOTHING hanging over my head, just lots and lots of fresh pretty yarn.

For more of this week’s Fiber Arts Friday, go to Alpaca Farmgirl

This is so cheesy, but makes me so freaking happy.

My Grandma was a champ of “stuff”. She is the comfy cozy Grandma. She had these plastic mesh and yarn things all over the house – and had us making them too. Everytime we went to see her, we could pick up where we left off.

The one(s) I made before were out of acrylic, but since I’m Miz Yarn Snob, I used part of my stash of cotton/bamboo.

Behold! The Tissue Box Cover!

I checked myself for fever, and I seem to be okay. If I start latch hooking a toilet lid cozy, send help!

For other Fiber Arts Fridays – go to Alpaca Farm Girl.

From AmyInOhio

The Pre-Blogher luncheon is planned.

FB page (my first, feel the coolness) will be the go-to place for RSVPs and details.?Ǭ† No invitation needed, all are welcome for a little Pre-Blogher mingling so tell all your friends – especially the ones prone to buying a round for the rest of us, cause dooode it’s on like donkey kong:

http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=85582328374

RSVP so I can give the restaurant a rough count, but come and go when you can as you arrive into town.

When I was in grad school, I was the Recruitment Adviser for my sorority. They were in a rough patch and they decided the way to air their feelings was through one of those fishbowl activities where they sat in a circle and tossed a bear around – whoever had the bear got to talk.

Some members were feeling excluded, overlooked, unimportant. It happens. One of the seniors, who really, was so funny and such a nut, and … now that I think of it …. she was exactly like Victoria. Heh.

So this girl says, “Look, the four of us (meaning she and her 3 BFFs) are very close, we are – but there’s no reason it can’t be “the five of us” or “the forty-five of us” and I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel left out.”

That has stuck with me. I’m not the best at pulling others into my secure circle – I need a damn tshirt to advertise to the world “it could be ‘just the five of us’”

***thought shift***

I was bugged a couple weeks ago when a bunch of peeps got to go to Disney for a weekend.

By bugged, I mean, ragingly jealous. I’ll totes admit that – I would have LOVED to take my kid and my hubs to Florida for a weekend. Oh, and of course learned a lot of stuff. And met new people.

But there was more to it than that. There have been at least three trips, one conference, and some HUGE company giveaways/loaners recently. Now, my understanding is that sponsors/companies reached out to these bloggers – there was no announcement, application and selection – there was no pool of applicants or volunteers ….

… it SEEMS that I see the same names going to these really freaking cool invite only functions. Like a group got picked by company A, so when company B decides to do the same thing, they check out who company A invited and pick them.

Which hey, they are paying the bill so CLEARLY they can do what they want. And the people they are choosing to go to these things? effing awesome. I mean, it’s not like I’m looking down on any of them – they rawk and have worked their asses off to be noticed for good things.

My ‘but’ is … and this goes back to the opening of this rather random post … by companies doing the hand selecting, they will forever keep their pool of knowledge to “just the four” when really, I *think* there’s a lot to be said for a knowledge pool of “just the five of us” or “just the forty-five of us” … and the companies are short changing all of us when they hand pick. The networking that goes on at these events is frequently the most important part. I can prove it – look at Room 704 – the blog that originated as a room party and now won’t shut up – without skipping a session and gabbing nonstop for a couple hours about the possibilities of a new blog – 704 wouldn’t exist – which would suck, because I’m thrilled about that whole jobjob every day.

I wonder what other awesome could happen if the knowledge pool got larger ….