Fight Or Flight

On our way to yet another Zumbathon with Mami, Mari revealed she believes that faced with an emergency, she'd just give up and die. "And don't tell people I died fighting, either. Tell the truth: 'She peaced out'," Mari said (or something close to that) while I laughed and laughed. This topic came up as I explained why, all of a sudden, I'm learning to shoot, perfecting my swimming and plotting some archery lessons for me and the babies.

People, look around. Shit's a-changing and not for the better. Call me a crazy conspiracy theorist but I will not be caught out there during The Revolution without any survival skills. In the past, my response to danger or threats was to run away fast and far without looking back. I wasn't one of those movie chicks who fell down because she kept checking to see if the killer was still behind her. Nope. I kept my eyes on the prize: AWAY AND FAR.

But I'm a little older now and I can't guarantee that I can run as fast as I used to, despite the fact that I'm healthier today than I've ever been. I'm also not as much of a scaredy-cat as I used to be. This is my FEARLESS year, remember. I actually picked up a firearm and shot directly into the chest of that target without hesitation or remorse. I jumped into the deep end of the pool and didn't panic. I answered my creditors' phone calls and set up payment plans to clean up my credit report. I went to TWO funerals. I GAVE UP MILK! These things may not seem badass to you but if you knew me, the REAL me, you'd know how big all of these events were in my life.

I was never the fighting type. I have a big ol filthy mouth, but was never a fighter. However, I see all these seeds of anarchy and disaster being planted all around me and all of a sudden I'm in full defense mode. I'm just starting to enjoy life; I'll be damned if I let it go without a fight. If my boat capsizes I will kick a shark in the eye repeatedly. If someone comes at me on the street, at the very least, "one of us is gonna be walking funny." (c) Julia Sugarbaker. I won't be meek or quiet or frightened. I will learn all I need to protect my life and my family and survive. I will learn how to catch and kill and cook my own food. I will learn to build necessary shelter. I will learn all the things my caveman ancestors knew PLUS all the stuff modern man knows, too, and I will coast into old age with a battle cry on my lips.

On my tombstone it will say, "Here lies Raquel; she died taking a whole bunch of motherfuckers with her."

The Revolution won't catch me slipping.

*smooches...fighting life in the face*
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just because I finally learned how.