the universe is a wonderfully, tricky b*tch sometimes and she [yes, she] has smacked me between the eyes once again. as explained in a previous post, every so often [a.k.a. all the time] when i am about to “take flight,” i fall down a bird hole.

it happened, again.

and i was fucking blind-sided.

excuse my language. or don’t. i swear sometimes. this peoplescience article told me that was ok.

i also just finished reading sarah knight’s book “calm the f*ck down.” writing is my outlet. my place to find calm. turns out swearing helps too.

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here’s what happened:

• z and i drove up to wisconsin for yet another “moving day” for my parents into the stone house.
• mands rented a moving truck for driving over some living room furniture so the house was FINALLY ready to — drumroll — be lived in.
• it worked! i convinced my mom to stay at the house with me for the first time … for three nights in a row.
• it was delightful to begin visualizing the life she could have there.
• i didn’t want to leave. i never want to leave. i almost didn’t leave. [yes, casey knows.]

in summary, my latest trip north was a rousing success. here’s some pics:

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i intentionally ended on that last pic because it’s the edge of the bird hole… a glimpse into my past and 5th grade robin.

[please disregard the fact that running up to wisconsin despite a pandemic –AND the other million reasons not to – were a mechanism of avoidance that i deploy when i’m flying towards greatness; but that’s a topic for another day.]

• as part of this phase of #thestonehousestory move, we surfaced more treasures in my parents ashwaubenon home.
• for example, we emptied my mom’s 100+ year-old black walnut desk so q could “re-home” it.

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• the drawers of the chest – which hadn’t been viewed in years – were filled with sooooo much goodness.
• i found the above picture from christmas in 1994.
• typically, i leave tokens like this photo for my mom with a message to end my visits on a positive “note” —-> helping her see all of the good we are uncovering.
• this time, i brought the picture home and put it on my vision board.

1994 was another EXTREMELY symbolic year in my childhood timeline.

it was the year we moved to ashwaubenon my family was forced out of our home in downtown green bay when the city expanded the elementary school next door.

a home my mom loved and did not want to leave. [sounds familiar, eh?]

here’s another gem we found. it is one of the last pictures taken of me [and the only one i’ve ever seen of my friends] before we moved – AND before i got glasses!

the other thing i remember most from that year is the exact date the moving truck showed up to our house to take away furniture.

you probably won’t believe me but … it was my birthday. june 13, 1994.

no one said happy birthday to me that day and i didn’t bring it up. there was no party or mention of cake. afterall, i already knew it was “a bad day.”

i was nine.

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to recap, for those watching my flight since the beginning of this blog:

1984 – robin is born

1987 – robin’s uncle is tragically hit by a drunk driver leaving her third birthday

1994 – a moving truck arrives to forcibly uproot our family from our first home – on robin’s birthday”

YES, I USED 3RD PERSON FOR EFFECT.
ANY QUESTIONS?

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ok.

back to the picture with my mom and the bird hole.

everything tied to the move and my birthday is undoubtedly in my head when i see the photograph nearly every day of my life.

but do you want to know what i focused on? my glasses.

you can’t tell in the pictures but in fifth grade my glasses were purple. the same color glasses as i wear today and part of my “personal brand.”

knowledge bomb [!]: when graduating college, i was told all i needed to be successful in interviews was a fancy pen and cool glasses. i switched [back] to purple to look more like a “creative director“ … to be more “me.”

i just updated my linkedin profile picture recently from a glasses-less pic. [and when snapping a pic of the screen, i realized i have brianna’s scissors from college. geezus the bird holes are endless…]

i even texted friends about my badass move of changing my profile pic …

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the matching glasses is eye-brow-raising but it gets better…

[hello, miss universe]

the glasses i zoomed-in on in the pic – my purple glasses – broke in 5th grade. a boy in my class intentionally tripped me playing kickball.

maybe he liked me. that’s what we are programmed to believe growing up. a boy likes a girl. boy is mean to the girl. the girl isn’t supposed to blink.

or maybe he was miserable and thought i was weak because i was “the new girl.” or because glasses are a symbol of weakness.

all explanations are as shitty as a black eye.

• when i saw the glasses, i wanted to write about bullying [a bird hole]
• i started a draft post last week but then remembered:
  1. i’m meeting a friend about his children’s book illustrations
  2. i have to deliver three active illustration commissions
  3. i’m designing a calendar for my mom of our precious drawings – which i could make available to friends and family
  4. i’ve got new illustration requests to formalize
  5. i need christmas cards – which ends up being a business mailing
  6. i have two painting commissions to start
  7. my list — as always — goes on and on …
     
• the last damn thing i should be doing is writing a blog post
• so instead, i went on linkedin this morning 🙂
  [bird hole #6 million]

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guess who’s name was listed under “who’s viewed your profile?”

the boy.

i sh*t you not.

i couldn’t look away.

the boy i haven’t seen or talked to in years.

the boy that not only broke my glasses that fateful day but went on to bully and tease me throughout middle school and high school.

the boy that was in our “friend” group and still hangs out with a few of my closest pals in wisconsin.

the boy i even asked a friend about recently; questioning if he knew how much he tormented me – and whether it would be cathartic to tell him.

the boy who now i’m worried will read this.
if anyone reading this will know who i’m talking about and tell him.
if someone else will think i’m talking about them and apologize.
if he’ll apologize.

that’s the name staring back at me.

well, f that boy.
f = forget
remember?
[f-bombs]

yep. f it. f him. f worrying. f it all. all the bad stuff at least.

see the good.
i love my purple glasses.
he will never break them again.

but until i learn to look forward, these are the bird holes that make it so difficult to fly.

• to get out of the hole i wrote this post.
• i’m calmer already.