The Rebel Within

You wouldn't know it looking at me today, but there's a rebel within me. All my life I've felt like I just didn't quite fit in and it showed. "I'm a rebel, Dottie, a loner." Those words may have been Pee Wee Herman's but they fit me too. Eventually in my late teens alcohol became my friend. Then I added a little marijuana to the mix. I starting dying my hair purplish-red, even had the bottom half buzzed and had a 6 inch braided tail. My wardrobe was all black, I carried a switch blade in my boots, and hung out at punk clubs in Salt Lake where I usually danced by myself next to the speakers. I smoked two packs a day and played pool in smoky, dingy pool halls. I had a homemade tattoo of a skull and crossbones on my shoulder. I dated guys with names like Billy Rat, and while a couple looked like Billy Idol, others sported mohawks. I had the cops draw their guns on me once. I had some psycho on drugs throw his fist through my car window shattering it in my face. I had lots of times I probably should have died driving drunk or high.

Then something changed. I checked myself into a treatment center. Months later, I ended up pregnant and became a single mom. I quit smoking, cold turkey. I went back to church. Went back to college.
Went back to blonde. I became a member of society and got a full time job. I volunteered at my son's elementary school every year. I dressed normal and even covered my skull and crossbones tattoo with a sunflower done by a guy named Bones. And after 10 years as a single mom, I even got married. Then I really became normal - even boring. There would be no more dancing. No more shooting pool in dingy, smoky pool halls. I even had an allergic reaction to my tattoo many years later and had it surgically removed. Now I have a four inch scar. I started my own business and I'm even the Chair of the Davis Chamber of Commerce Women in Business. I've been sober 22 years, smoke-free 18.

But the rebel is still within. In the last year or so I went back to dying my hair all sorts of different shades of red (much to the dismay of my mom). I still go to my Social Distortion concerts. I even hit the hard stuff twice a week. Yep, Diet Coke WITH the caffeine! I went back to playing soccer in my 30's and then again in my 40's. At 38 I took martial arts classes and earned my 1st degree black belt. I still long to play pool in smoky, dingy pool halls with Tom Waits playing on the jukebox. And sometimes, when I'm alone, I crank the music up and dance by myself. I still find guys like Mike Ness and Jesse James sexy with all their tattoos, not to mention Orlando Bloom when he had his mohawk. Heck, I still have the urge to get a mohawk myself...I just don't act on that one! I still love the sound of a Harley, and dream of driving a little red corvette. Marriage hasn't really worked out as I had planned. And sometimes I still feel like I don't fit in. 

You see, it's still there. Sometimes I feel it so strong I think I might explode. Sometimes it makes me smile. And sometimes I even let it out to play a little. It's the rebel within.

Night journeys of a mad woman

Anyone who knows me well knows that I am a creature of the night. I love the night. I belong in the night. I thrive in the night. Nights when I try to go to bed at a human hour I end up lying there tossing and turning as my mind continues to spin and create. I've tried getting up and writing things down in hopes that I can release the ideas and go to sleep but it doesn't work. My creative mind takes the ideas and then proceeds to expand upon them...for hours.

So what do you do with all of that bizarre stuff that bounces around in your head at 2am? I decided to create a blog where I can hopefully put it out to the universe and move on. So that's what this is. This is a record of my random night journeys, the travels of a spirited soul trying to find her place in a world that feels so restrictive. Hopefully through this blog I can embrace the spirited me and find some way to bring her into the daylight and thrive there too. Stranger things have happened.