Thursday, December 31, 2009

Returning To School

Going back to class in January. Registered this morning and I have to admit I have mixed feelings about this one. I'm excited to get my life moving with my education again - I'm not so excited about having to take Spanish II. I just want to get my languages over with. The same way I wanted to get my maths over with. After that, it's going to be classes I'll enjoy, stuff I like learning about.

When I took Spanish 101 I wanted to really, truly learn the language but trying to do that in five weeks plus actually prepare for class every night AND work full time just proved to be too much for me. I got an A but there was alot of stress behind that letter. Now it's been a while and I'm hoping that I remember what I need to in order to make this work. I'd still love to learn the language but I just do not know how that would be possible without more Spanish speakers in my life.

Fingers crossed, here we go... Monday and Wednesday mornings at 11AM... 15 weeks in all. After that, I'm hoping they offer Personalized Fitness over the summer, I have to get that taken care of. I never withdrew from it so I've got a big, fat F on my transcript. That's got to be fixed.

A new year is coming and both Spice and Biff are saying it'll be their year. I'm hoping three's not a crowd. And if you want to join me in making 2010 your year... four or more would just mean it's a party.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Alive!

Biff called me at 12:15 last night to give me the news. Facebook comes through once again! Ok... this was the big one. This was a friend I'd had years ago whom I had to distance myself from. I loved her very much, which is why I had to distance myself. She was destroying herself and hurting me. Over the years I've thought and worried and resigned myself that she may no longer be with us. I hoped to at least see her again in the next life.

Our friendship piqued with one of the most defining moments of my life (though I did not know it when I was 18... I had no clue what the next 12 years held for me or the places that grief mixed with bipolar disorder can send you). A tragedy, a loss. Something I've put in my past now but something I'll never forget, nor do I truly want to. Somehow, I've wanted to honor his memory... forgetting about it wouldn't do that. His name is tattooed on my hip. I loved him like you love a brother. He died by his own hand.

She was his girlfriend and they loved each other much yet they were both self destructive. Both of them had known an incredible amount of pain in their young lives. She looks to have survived it. She was like a sister to me. Telling her I needed my distance was no easy task but I did it and was healthier for it. My ex's mother had banned her from the house and that was my last straw. I couldn't have her where I lived anymore and it was for good reason. She was an addict and she might steal something. She had already stolen from me. That rent money went somewhere. It didn't blow away in the wind.

Still - I love her. And I thought about her often - regularly. I'm not really one to hold grudges... though I do not forget how someone makes me feel. The way they make you feel is usually what determines if you want to be around them or not. Not saying there aren't people that I just simply dislike. I dislike a few. Strongly, some. But - not her. I never disliked her. She didn't make me feel bad... I always felt fine around her. Maybe a little younger (though in years I'm not but a few months younger) but that was only because she had her independence in high school... at a time when I had none. Both of us fell into two extremes... opposites in many ways but something underneath that clicked.

Maybe I'm making too much of this... but when defining moments come... as they did that November day, 12 years ago... everything around it that means much to you falls into a category that is unforgettable. The smells, the sounds, the phone calls that had to be made. The anger... the pain... the awful times that eventually blossom out a new person. Even if it takes forever.

I don't normally mention Him by name. But, on this one I thank God solely for bringing her back into my life - even if it's only to say hello quickly. And maybe now that time has healed alot of wounds we can make our friendship something new. Maybe... we'll see.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Ker-Plunk

Ker-plunk! That was the sound my credit card site made when I pressed the button this morning for my payment. Ker-plunk. It was a strange sound to hear coming from the PC's speakers. A strange sound, indeed.

Tomorrow I'll be able to look at my balance and know how ker-plunk feels. It's going to be good, I can already tell. From all these hours away.

Meanwhile, I received an email. From a guy from a long while ago. In the day or so that my profile was viewable on match, I've already heard that a couple of folks saw it. The guy who sent me the email was someone I communicated with briefly. We never did actually meet up... mostly because the one time he asked me was when he was getting together with his hockey team. Sound like the beginning of a porn movie? I thought so too... so I didn't go. I emailed him back, however. We'll see. Though I very much doubt it'll go anywhere beyond the pleasantries we've already exchanged.

And someone else has found their way back... and he's been better this time... though I'm certainly not counting on much. If he wants me, he can chase me. I'm owed that by now. Honestly, if any guy wants me, he can chase me. Not that I'm going to be unswerving or purposely difficult but I've got a good life by myself, I'm not ready to drop it for the sake of what might be... but I would be willing to alter it a bit for the sake of what is.

Ker-plunk! That's also the sound of me laying down the law in my dating life.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Random Thought #11

"How the heck are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?"

-taken from a forward

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Organization and Discipline

I drove to the bank with my heart racing. How about that, huh? No, I'm not THAT out of shape... I was excited. I received my loan check in the mail yesterday and today I deposited it. Just a couple days until it clears and the credit card company will be getting quite the lump sum from me. Woo-hoo! It's a relief. I can't even exactly begin to tell you. Step one down, lots of other steps to go. Getting my life into the shape I want it is a job all it's own.

I'm cutting back and budgeting and telling myself "no" sometimes. 2010 is going to be quite a year for me. Main focuses: school, training for the ride, getting myself into shape and onto a regular diet (cooking at home) that will help me sustain without having to forgo too much, writing and reading, dating, traveling and taking care of myself in the girly fun ways I simply don't do now. Or, at least, not nearly as much as I should.

Organization and discipline will have to become my friends in the next year. Let's just see how I do... shall we?

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Buon Natale

Christmastime is here. And right about now I can hear the kids from Charlie Brown's Christmas singing those words in my head. It's not so bad. I've still got quite a bit of work to do to before I am ready for Saturday. Saturday is when my family is getting together. Tomorrow is going to be relatively quiet except for the baking I'll be doing for the gathering. My party this year was a bust because of the snow but, luckily, the food won't be going to waste.

This is the first year in several (approximately four, hmm...) that I have felt the Christmas spirit. I actually went out shopping this year. The kids are getting toys instead of savings bonds. I'm hoping that next year I'll be able to get them both. My loved ones will actually have things to unwrap... I haven't felt like bothering with any of it in quite some time. But this year - as I started wrapping up the gifts and getting that backache from being hunched over on the floor, I remembered how much I loved it. How much I used to be thrilled before Christmas. How much I loved Christmas shopping... I mean, actually shopping... walking around the stores until you found something that fits. I missed shopping and didn't even realize it.

I am already planning how I'm going to handle next year. Yet, I still have to take this one in. There is so much work left to do at the moment. Baking, cooking, wrapping... and I scheduled an oil change for Saturday morning before the celebration gets started.

Either way, I'm glad Christmas is back for me. It is a good thing to see the beauty of it instead of feeling the burden. Curiosity does make me ask the question why Christmas has to be so tough when one is going through a tough time... what exactly about the season is so damn depressing? I guess when you are told to be "merry" but it just doesn't feel possible, it just makes it all the worse. Right now I feel like Scrooge coming out his cubby hole.

Buon Natale, people. Buon Natale.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Peace Quote #7

First, before I post the following... my nephew has been released. Don't know many more details than that at the moment but he's doing better. Yay!

Now... here's today's Peace Quote...

"When it seems like everyone in life is passing you by, and you feel somewhat "behind", realize that's just a sympton.

The underlying cure to the problem is to realize that everyone's journey in life is different.

And when you're confident of the journey you're taking, it doesn't really bug you when it comes to the speed or direction of other people's journey.

It's apples and oranges.

You can't compare.

Only choose what journey is just right for you."

-Brian Kim

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Ok... Today's Blog Is Sad

21-year-old raises money for her funeral
Her final Christmas wish
Updated: Tuesday, 22 Dec 2009, 11:08 AM EST
Published : Monday, 21 Dec 2009, 6:12 PM EST

Amanda Jarrett
CLINTON, Ind. (WTHI) - Just days before Christmas, a young woman with muscular dystrophy is planning her own funeral, so she won't leave the burden behind for her family.

Sierra Cooper, 21, has battled muscular dystrophy her entire life, then she received another blow: Being diagnosed with cystic fibrosis. Now, Sierra faces a grim outlook and doctors said she has little time left.

"If it was up to me, she'd have another 30 to 40 years and she'd bury me," Sallie Cooper, Sierra's mother, said. "You're not supposed to bury your child."

Sierra may only have weeks left. This Christmas, her wish isn't under the tree this year. She's asking for donations to help pay for her funeral.

"I love my parents and I don't want them to be struggling when I'm gone," Sierra said.

Sierra isn't eligible for life insurance. Every day is a struggle for the 21-year-old, as she's hooked to a pack of oxygen and medicine. That's why her mother wants to give her the only thing she can: A proper funeral.

"She'll never get a wedding, so I want to do something special for her," Sallie said. "She's been planning her own funeral, so of course I want to give her the funeral she wants."

While she's planning for her final days, Sierra said she's found peace.

"I'm going to be with God and I'm going to be pain-free, no oxygen, no pain pump," Sierra said. "I'm going to be normal for once and be able to do the stuff you guys take for granted."

For now, she's living life one day at a time. Sierra prepares for a final Christmas. She's hoping for help as she leaves her family behind.

If you'd like to help the Cooper family, you can make donations to the Sierra Cooper Benefit Fund at any First Financial Bank location . Contact First Financial Bank at 812-238-6000.

First Financial Bank
PO Box 220
Clinton, IN 47842

Monday, December 21, 2009

Back To CHOP

The little guy is back in the hospital. My nephew... bless his little heart has three infections he's fighting and when your body is so busy working with chemo to try to kill the cancer there's not much to fight other issues off with. So, tonight I'll be back at the hospital visiting him... seeing what his parents need.

I had hoped to never have to step foot in CHOP again. Not because it's not amazing but because it is absolutely the most bizarre mix of heaven and hell as anywhere I've ever experienced. Hell because of the sick children... heaven because of the miracles they perform. I have no problem being there for my family but just the thought of going back there again makes my cheeks start to feel heavy in that "I want to cry" way.

He'll be ok... he'll push through this. I won't entertain any thoughts to the contrary but this is when it gets hard. I can not even begin to imagine what his parents and siblings feel. I just wish they didn't have to. I wish no one ever had to. Kids shouldn't be fighting for their lives, they should be playing. It is really just as simple as that.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Loan Relief

Finally. My loan came through. Credit card troubles: prepare to be lessened. Budget-conscious me - prepare to exist. Looks like I should be able to get my shit in better order. Finally. It's so bizarre the way my credit card balance swelled out of control. Some of it was me being stupid, much of it was me paying for my pooch's care when she was sick. But, now... now I will be able to breathe a little easier. Hopefully.

I'll really know once I've gotten the ball fully rolling. I cannot wait to get down to saving money again. For the little things and the big. I haven't been able to do that in years - if ever. For the first time in a long time I'm looking at my schedule and questioning myself about what really matters to me - and what I can start to stop doing.

Excited but calm at the moment. Looking forward to the next step... sending Chase my big payment, once I've got it in my checking. Woo-hoo! Let's see how things start to change, shall we? One step at a time.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Miscellaneous

The scale has budged ever so slightly. One full pound. We'll see if it stays that way though. The next week is going to involve some heavy eating and drinking. More eating than drink, I think but still plenty of calories. Been preparing for a gathering of friends at my place but now they're talking snow. I can't help but wonder what's going to happen but there's not much I can do about the weather.

I'm trying to not get angry with the weather. That seems fruitless and silly.

Put my Blessed Mother in the window though... she's not "magic" but somehow it feels right to do these Catholic tradition type things sometimes. Sometimes, I've found they work.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

QUOTED: Miss Piggy Seeing Green Over Tiger's Infidelity


Alan Greth/ZUMA

"My Kermie is nothing like [Tiger]. I just want to say, he would never do anything untoward moi, but, if he did, you can rest assured there'd be a hole in one, and he'd be the one!"

• Miss Piggy, chiming in on the Tiger Woods scandal during a sit-down with Wendy Williams this week.

-From People.com

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

When The Scale Won't Budge**

-Brian Kim

Today is the future of 5 years ago.
Went by quick didn't it?
5 years ago vs. today.
What has changed?
Remember, true lasting change is gradual.
Don't be in a hurry to change overnight.
Let it happen gradually, with consistency, daily.
5 years later, it will have gone by quick again.
But it will be remarkably better than today.
If you work on changing, gradually, with consistency.
Daily.

**originally untitled

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Cheap Pedometer

I've dropped it a few times. And it's a cheapy so it adds on a step if I move around a little too hard but still... it'll help me be less lazy. Not that I actually consider myself regularly lazy anyway.

I went out after work last night and bought a pedometer. If you're not sure what a pedometer is, it's something you hook to your waist pants to count how many steps you take a day. Mine - is really cheap. As in, bought it at Five Below cheap. I did, in fact, buy it at their highest price tag - but that's still only $5. My goal, in actually, is to make sure I take at least 12,000 steps a day. Somewhere I read that it's about 90 minutes of walking a day. I did a full 94 minutes last night on my mom's treadmill after buying it. It was still several thousand short. Sadly, because I bought a cheap one, I have to add on several thousand more steps a day... just to make up for the occasional drop or quick movement that doesn't include actual walking.

Yup, that'll be me... standing up, walking in place when I'm watching the Sopranos (I recently started from the beginning of season one) just to keep up with my goal. Either way, I'm hoping it helps a little to whittle my middle. I'll keep you posted, y'all. Not that I think you're terribly excited or overly concerned to hear about it. But - I'm excited so I'll be sharing.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Horsewalk

I've been walking like I just got off a horse. Or, like I'm pregnant. (I'm not.) Or, like I dropped the soap. My muscles are sore. All of my legs and glutes. Some of it going up the side and into my back. Not much with my back but every once in a while I feel it. I can't deny that I love this feeling. I'm sore because I've been working out hard. HARD. Strangely, I've gained 5 lbs since Saturday though... peculiar. I'm not that upset about it though - I've got the pain in my lower half to comfort me.

This morning I had to decide what workout to do. 15 minutes of working on the arms and it was easier than I was expecting. That has been happening more and more often. My ab workout on Saturday - same thing. I wouldn't go as far as to actually call that one "easy" but I am more than happy to announce that it wasn't as difficult as I expected or remember it being the last time I did it. Tonight, I will walk. For probably about an hour and a half while my laundry runs through it's cycles.

I may have packed on 5 pounds in two days but I'm ok with that. As long as I keep working, why should it upset me? Sure... I'm still waiting for the scale to go down again (can't wait) but I refuse to beat myself up internally for that which appears to be somewhat out of my control.

Ow. Ow. Ow. Yes! (smile on my face)

Friday, December 11, 2009

Cranky

I'm a little cranky. Ok... very cranky. I'm feeling bored, which means I'm depressed. Knocked myself a little out of whack it seems. Going back to the gym today... hopefully that'll take care of it.

I feel so at a standstill with my life. At the moment. Like I'm going nowhere. I have one week left until I can get my loan squared away. And I've got about a month until school restarts. Seems like I should just relax right now and enjoy the little extra free time that I have... once school starts some of that will be changing.

Ugh... I just hope I feel better and more hopeful tomorrow.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Random Thought #10

"I think everyone has a movie that they love so much; it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the only one who really, really gets it."

-taken from a forward

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Carrot and Radish Salad

It goes like this... I want to lose weight... I have to lose weight (my lower back reminds me from time to time)... and I don't mind putting the work in... unless we're talking super-bland food. Like carrot and radish salad. Come now... really? Ok, it's not exactly that I'm following a diet so much as just eating how I should eat. In a way that saves me on both fat/calories and money. I'm bringing in my lunch each day (or almost every day) and if I don't bring in my lunch, I get a grilled chicken sandwich from Chick-fil-A. My lunch, Monday through Friday is nothing more than a small salad and something extra to go with it. Like today, Spaghetti-O's. Often, when I'm done, I am simply not satisfied. Especially when my salad is reduced to so many carrots and so much radish.

I take my salad out of a bag. I get whatever kind is on sale that week and then I pep it up with a little grated cheese, tomato and add lowfat ranch dressing (measured to fit a serving size according to what's on the bottle). But, today... today I forgot the cheese and there was barely any lettuce left in the bag from which I was taking the salad so I ended up with tons of carrot and tons of the purple stuff. Honestly, I felt like a little kid being forced by mom to eat it. This makes me want to go to the vending machine to get the worst possible choice, almost to punish the raw carrot and raw radish for not being tastier. Sadly, the only one who would actually be punished would be me.

So, it's only one lousy meal, right?

But, isn't this just life? Instead of being willing to wait (though I am proud enough to say that I have so far not buckled today) we want the instant gratification. What's more to the instant gratification is that we want the non-instant gratification results. We want to lose weight without the work... we want the paycheck without actually putting the time in on schooling or just plain effort on the job... we want to be at peace without working out our issues. Isn't this just life?

Yup. And every once in a while you have to deal with a lousy meal in order to get where you want to go.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Boiling Pot

Sometimes you make no progress. Well, at least I make no progress, it seems. At times. All those goals I've set out to accomplish seem to be at a standstill. I haven't lost any weight, my book is just barely touched (ok - I've made a teeny, tiny amount of progress with that one) and a few other miscellaneous areas have not improved. Strange part is... I'm not all that incredibly frustrated at this point. I mean, I'm not thrilled but I'm not beating myself up either. I figure the changes have got to be coming, right? As long as I keep at it. Change has to occur... it's just really, really slow. However, I assume that as time goes by it will stop seeming so slow... it will have gone by in the proverbial blink of an eye.

Almost four years ago I found myself single again. That'll be the case on January 13th. Honestly, I only remember the date because it was a Friday the 13th. I remember at the time thinking that it was an omen because of the date... now I look back and I know it was a blessing. The breakup itself took months and months to complete. A very painful and stressful time for all concerned. Now I look back and while I can remember plenty of it... it's nothing more than a distant memory. And so much has changed, in only four short years. Honestly, the real changes didn't start occurring until two years ago (or thereabouts). I was in a rut for much of the time prior to getting medicated. Then it took a little while to get used to being a little (or lot) more straight-headed.

But, while I sit here thinking that I'm making no progress whatsoever, the more I'm seeing that I probably am... I just can't exactly see it quite yet. Four years is a long time. And I'm over it. It took years to get here but one of my friends had said a few years ago "it'll take about half the time you were with him before you are completely over him". At the time I remember thinking "no, I'm already over him". I wasn't. Not even close in comparison.

Progress sometimes happens when you stop waiting for it to. As they say, "a watched pot never boils".

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Dance class a gift for special students, instructor

By Bob Crowley, CNN

Boston, Massachusetts (CNN) -- It's early on a Saturday morning, and Sarah Markowitz limbers up before her dance class begins.

Sarah stretches on the bar at the school run by the Boston Ballet as her fellow students start to wander in. They are all excited, because today they get to perform for their parents.

"I like dance because I like Gino," Sarah says, referring to Gianni di Marco, the instructor for this class of more than a dozen very special dancers. Gino, as his students call him, has taught various ballet classes for the school but now focuses mostly on this one, Adaptive Dance. It is a class specifically for kids with Down syndrome.

"It's about movement," Di Marco explains. "It's about trying to coordinate the body with the music and have joy."

As a conga drumbeat fills the room, the class begins. Di Marco starts in front of his students.

They are all seated, facing the floor-to-ceiling dance studio mirror.

He leads them through a series of motions timed to the rhythm, gradually working to a standing position. They are all smiles, and Di Marco encourages them with "Oh, yeah!" as they shout with enthusiasm, bodies swaying, feet stomping.

"Dance is something that has no limitations," Di Marco says. He leads them all in a circle, a pied piper with his loyal and happy group. They each take turns, one at a time, in a freestyle dance in the center. High-fives, hugs and fist bumps are common as each of the friends completes his or her routine.

The program started in 2002 and was the idea of Michelina "Mickey" Cassella, a physical therapist from Boston Children's Hospital who also works with dancers from the Boston Ballet Company.

"They've had physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy," Cassella says of the kids in the Adaptive Dance class.

"I wanted them to come into this building," she goes on, "and to be able to participate in a class like other children."

Though not a dance instructor, Cassella is always there to help guide the students if one of them becomes distracted or just needs a little encouragement.

"They're moving to music beautifully," Cassella says. "They're developing moves we didn't even know they could do!" She has seen these kids grow into teenagers during their time here and has been amazed by their progress. "It's just been a beautiful thing to watch."

In the studio, Di Marco has brought the parents in to watch their children perform. Anne Markowitz smiles as she watches her daughter, Sarah, lead the class through spontaneous poses, using the opportunity to ham it up a little.

"I think it's fabulous," Anne Markowitz says of the program, and Sarah loves every minute of it.

Down syndrome is nothing new to Markowitz, nor are the many capabilities of her daughter and the rest of the students. "It doesn't matter what your special needs are," she says. "You can do; you can dance; you can express yourself."

Di Marco explains that his students were sometimes hesitant to join in when he first started teaching them. But now he thinks dance has given them all a confidence that goes beyond the dance studio.

"It's not just to learn how to dance," he says, "but also to learn how to be who you are, and I think they're developing that very well, here, in this environment."

The reward goes both ways, however. Di Marco says that seven years ago he was nervous when the classes began. But now, he says, "Here I am having the time of my life teaching these children."

This is the last class of the session, and the students won't be back until March. Di Marco invites the parents to join their children in a dance. They form a circle again, but this time each student shares a dance with their family members instead of solo. The excitement culminates in one large group hug in the center. They are all exhausted and all smiling.

Di Marco, his arms outstretched as if to embrace every one of them, says, "This is life. I love you guys. Thank you for bringing your children to play with me!"

Friday, December 4, 2009

The Discipline of London

Jack London died at the age of 40. Prior to his death, caused by a mix of sleeping pills and booze, he wrote. ALOT. ALOT ALOT. His death as a suicide is an unknown... I'd be willing to bet it wasn't on purpose. Even if he did not think his writing was ever going to be truly understood.

He worked with a 1,000 words per day minimum. A strictness that I believe most writers must put into their lives, their work. Though their own standards may be different than one thousand words. He was a success... gained and lost money, yes... but he was a true success in the literary world. He died young but left a body of work to be admired and studied.

Way cool, my friends... way cool. What can I learn from him? What can we learn from him? When you have a passion, stick with it. Structure yourself. Get yourself organized so that you can focus on your passion instead of running around all scatter-brained. The type of organization doesn't matter so much, just as long as you're organized for you. London used to keep his notes on a clothesline that ran across his bedroom so that they sat in front of his face while he did his writing in bed.

Then he'd have two scotches in the early afternoon and go right back to writing. Not that I'm saying we should all drink for lunch (I mean, look his cause of death and his age...) but I am saying that routine and discipline are probably necessities, if you're going to try to get your lifework done in your lifetime.

I'm getting my daily routine pretty nailed down though it's not all the way there yet. Have been working on my second draft at night though, just a little bit at a time. And, surprisingly, I'm doing this draft by hand... I'll go back to the PC for the third draft. I can't help but wonder if this will be how I end up writing all of my work. PC for step one, handwritten for step two and back to PC for step 3.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Peace Quote #6

"Who are all those people you have brought with you?"
The disciple whirled around to look.
Nobody there. Panic!
Lao said: "Don't you understand?"
- The Way of Chuang Tzu

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Selling The Party

Yesterday my boss told me that I don't sell myself enough. She was talking work, I am certainly thinking not work. I began to turn the phrase over and over in my mind. "Sell yourself". And right now, as I type away, I begin to think about a book I once read... one of my many, many... many self-help books... "the party that is you"... another term that seems to be bouncing off the "sell yourself" idea. I'm feeling really cheesy right about now but I'm going to keep going...

I'm thinking, how does one sell "the party that is you"... or me... or however you want to read this. My biff asked me just a short while ago to write something about myself. When I did it really quick without thinking too much... I really liked what I looked like on paper. Or, on screen, I suppose. These were the points I'd like to sell, if selling myself is at all possible without being illegal or disgusting.

I've got some thinking to do... I mean, it's easy to sell the clothing you wear, the hair that you style or the way that you smell. These are just the dressings on the package. It's what's inside that counts (though, as a girl, the other stuff is fun too), right? How do you sell that stuff without bragging or being annoying about it? Hmm...

Monday, November 30, 2009

Ready

Restless - that's me. After weeks and weeks of not dating anyone, I'm starting to really want to start up the whole dating thing again. As I told Biff last night... I want a boyfriend - RIGHT NOW. Like, right this very minute. Poof! I want him to be here.

But - actually, that's not exactly completely totally true. I just want to be out there again. I don't want the boyfriend until I find the right guy to welcome into my life that way. Welcome someone all the way in.

Meanwhile, I have this guy friend who I was IMing with earlier today. He told me exactly what I've heard plenty of times before. That he finds it really hard to believe that it's hard for me to find someone. I've heard this from multiple friends, mostly male. He gave me a list of reasons why... yet... still... nope. And I appreciate the input and the complimentary conversation we were having. Is it really that I don't look around enough? Is it that I'm intimidating in some way that I am completely unaware of? I think it's because of my lack of an eye contact and smile technique. I'm still scared to do this but tomorrow night, when I go out... I'm going to just let it go... going to just do it. Hopefully there will be someone around to do it towards... otherwise Spice might start feeling uncomfortable because I'll only be able to practice on her.

And I'm going back to match. Soon. Match is fun. And the guys aren't all deadbeats like on POF. (Ok, maybe that shouldn't be a full blanket statement but neither Spice nor I had any truly good luck with that sight. I'm not even talking about finding "the one", I'm just talking about finding someone who is worth finding.)

We'll see. Hopefully tomorrow night I can get the ball rolling.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Amazing Grace

by John Newton (1725–1807) - afterword written by me.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.

T'was Grace that taught...
my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear...
the hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares...
we have already come.
T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far...
and Grace will lead us home.

The Lord has promised good to me...
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be...
as long as life endures.

When we've been here ten thousand years...
bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise...
then when we've first begun.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.



I am thankful for my family. I am thankful for my friends. I am thankful for prayers that have appeared to have gone unanswered, the "no" quietly whispered in end results I could not see from afar. I am thankful for those who read this... I am thankful for the ability to write. I am thankful for the ability to read. To see, to speak, to hear, to think. I am thankful for my life as it is... even if it's not always what I dreamt it to be (yet). I am thankful for hope, even if the glimmer is so small it can barely be seen. I am thankful for the prayers that have been answered... and for those yet to be.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

The Cycle

We make plans to go out at night
I wait till 2 then I turn out the light
This rejection's got me so low
If she keeps it up I just might tell her so

- Self Esteem, The Offspring

I don't have this problem, exactly (anymore). But, self esteem... I know mine doesn't reside where it should be. All I can do is work on it. Yet, as I ponder working on it, I realized I don't actually, exactly know what it is. And I have no idea how to fix it if I can't find it. I picture it being like a balloon that needs to be blown up. But - I don't know what exactly I'm supposed to be filling it with. Get me?

So, I bought a book. The Psychology of Self Esteem. It's helping me to clarify. Simply put. And there's an aspect I hadn't thought of but I'm starting to understand it a little bit better. The aspect of going against your conscience and going against productivity (which, for people like me, is attached to a matter of conscience) will lower one's self esteem. Basically, people, start living right. Most of us have the idea of what's right and what's wrong... the only question is... how often do we ignore and do whatever out of laziness or out of spite or out of all sorts of ugly motives? Instant gratification much? Lower self esteem.

The problem that I'm seeing with it as I begin realizing how I've affected myself deeply with all my bad choices, time and time again and the reality of how it is a vicious cycle. You don't do right when you're feeling bad enough about yourself because you're looking for whatever temporary relief you can get. Sometimes you lean on the bottle or on drugs or whatever. I've never had a drug problem but Lord knows I've clung to the bottle for dear life at times. For long, extended times some of that time. And once you do that, you're drunk... you make bad choices... you lose your drive to do better. So.. you don't. And your self esteem suffers - then you drink - and then you make more bad choices and so on and so forth.

Last night, I watched the finale of Dancing with the Stars (I've gotten the basic channels now... I have to admit it's kind of nice) and I found myself crying... tears streaming down my face for Kelly Osbourne. I don't think I was alone... one of the judges told her that no other contestant on the show ever touched her so deeply before. She was choked up when she said it. Here's a young woman whom I feel I can understand to a degree. She struggles to stay sober because it's easier to just drink and forget it. But - she started working her ass off for the show. Completely and totally and her self confidence started to show through. It's hard to not be proud of yourself when you've really, truly worked for something. She worked and she received recognition. Hopefully this will inspire her to keep working hard, keeping working toward other goals - to keep her away from the bottle. Hopefully she's broken out of the tough cycle to break.

One step at a time, one day at a time. One moment at a time and one choice at a time. Not going against what I know is right for me, not going against what I know will get me to my goals... and before I know it, I'll have what I've been working for.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Random Thought #9

"Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the heck was going on when I first saw it."

-taken from a forward

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Back To Life

The twists and turns that life provides are enough to send anyone reeling. They are sometimes enough to make you want to give up. Sometimes the turns are so sharp, you can feel completely out of control... and sometimes you are. Sometimes you're careening down a winding road and go flying into the embankment. If you're lucky, you don' t end up living out a Misery-esque experience but rather, you awake to find yourself able to get the car right back on the road. Back on the path, if you will.

I'm back to living. I felt, for almost a full week, like I was giving up. My apartment looks like a bomb hit it and my mood did have a bomb hit it. My workout routine flew out the window while I've spent most of my time trying to stay in the window. (Indoors, that is.) I'm still preparing to defend myself but I refuse to keep going as it's been for the last few days. Sure, from now on, I have to keep my eyes open just a little wider and I have to keep walking with my safety notch turned all the way up but I refuse to let it stop me from living for one minute more.

I did some reading about what I've been experiencing. It could easily and completely break me down if I let it. I refuse. I'm getting back to life and this is where I'll stay. I've come too far along this dirty and rocky road to stop hoping that just up around that bend, just one hundred feet away, is pavement which will provide me with a much smoother ride. I will always expect potholes but I will not expect that I can't go around at least some of them, some of the time.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

How We Can Be Cool

I am finding it quite odd - the whole last week of my existence. Something feels broken, quite a bit. Yet, something else (two somethings, actually) feels fixed. I am still worn out. I am tired. I haven't been sleeping well and I'm stressed out about the Little Boy situation. I could beat someone senseless for the way I've been feeling. Long showers were put on hold and I've been dawdling whenever I get home at the idea of walking back out the front door once I am there.

But - this is what he/she/it wants. I can't let it be the case. I have to go back to living my life again without hesitation.

That which is fixed? At least now I know I really care about myself. Sounds strange, I know but the whole struggle to want to defend myself, if necessary, made me well aware that I'm not ready to go anywhere. And - this one is not exactly a shock to me, it's just a matter of fact - I'm finding myself wanting to be at peace with everyone. Even those who have wronged me in the past. Because none of them - not one - has ever made me fear the way the last week has. Not that I'll put up with other people's crap anymore - quite the opposite, really. However, instead of waiting it out and not saying anything, I'll say something right away. The mind gets too clouded otherwise.

As for finding peace: here's how I see it - I have done wrong and I have been rejected and I've been tossed to the side and I've been a punching bag and I've been all sorts of things, not only to others but to myself - if I can forgive myself for being human, then surely I can forgive them too. Still, it's not in my realm of "human" to go around scaring someone, causing them to fear for their safety. All of us can be moody, bitchy, assholes at times. Some of us don't have control over certain aspects of ourselves - I fully believe this. I don't want to deal with everyone's crap - don't get me wrong - but what I do want to do is learn how to live and love others, regardless of their "differentiation" status. Don't think, for one minute though, that it means everyone falls into my loving arms - it just means that I want real, genuine, lasting peace in my life. You come around fucking that up at this point, I'll have no problem just not coming around. You don't make an effort toward me - I'll have no problem just not bothering. But - if we mutually want the same thing - it's cool. Faults and all, it's cool. As long as you're genuine, we cool. Get it?

This all makes me feel less broken, even when my life is feeling so clearly, remarkably out of my own control.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Peace Quote #5

Ok... now that I got that off my chest (yesterday's blog)... back to our regularly scheduled program...



"If being wealthy is taken to mean having the means to satisfy one's every want, all but the very poor can become rich as thou at a single stroke of a magician's wand, simply by ceasing to want more than is really necessary for sustaining life. By being content with little and not giving a rap for what the neighbours think, one can attain a very large measure of freedom, shedding care and worry in a trice."

-John Blofeld

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Little Boy

You want to fuck with me? Fine. You want to be such a little man that you are going to go around scaring girls? Fine. You can't handle rejection, even when it's done gently? Fine. I will have no issue being hard on you from here on out. You want to key my car? Wow... brave boy. You're trying to express your pain, I suppose. What a stupid fucking way you have about you. You might want to look into a more positive way to vent your emotions. Or, even, and here's a shocker... learn how to realize when your pain is completely irrational and you're blowing shit way out of proportion. You're supposed to be a man, you're nothing but a child. And that's even giving you more maturity credit than you deserve. You want to come knocking on my door? I'm waiting for you to do it again. Make no mistake about this, motherfucker, you continue to make me feel like I've got something to fear (making me feel something won't constitute me wasting my time acting on it, necessarily, you stupid little bitch), any pacifist ways that I tend to be inclined to will go right out the window. You threaten me, you threaten anyone I love (or, hell, even remotely care about - or anyone - for that matter)... don't even get me started. You act on any said threats, you better be prepared to be burned. I'm not so stupid as to think that I can win any fight but one against a pussy like you? I have to believe I've got one hell of a chance.

You come around again. I see you... I will report it. You get more aggressive than that? I will be vigilant and I will be willing. Don't think you can ruin my peace of mind just because I'm on guard now. I'm not alone in this, asshole, I've got plenty of people ready to help me defend me. And I'd do the same for them. Evil, LITTLE twisted fucks like you don't stand a chance against those fighting for that which they love. One more thing... anything really terrible happens to me... everyone knows your name and now we also know your history. Bitch.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Blue Ribbon

by Helice Bridges

A teacher in New York decided to honor each of her seniors in high school by telling them the difference they each made.

She called each student to the front of the class, one at a time. First she told each of them how they had made a difference to her and the class. Then she presented each of them with a blue ribbon imprinted with gold letters which read, "Who I Am Makes a Difference."

Afterwards the teacher decided to do a class project to see what kind of impact recognition would have on a community. She gave each of the students three more ribbons and instructed them to go out and spread this acknowledgment ceremony. Then they were to follow up on the results, see who honored whom and report back to the class in about a week.

One of the boys in the class went to a junior executive in a nearby company and honored him for helping him with his career planning. He gave him a blue ribbon and put it on his shirt. Then he gave him two extra ribbons and said, "We're doing a class project on recognition, and we'd like you to go out, find somebody to honor, give them a blue ribbon, then give them the extra blue ribbon so they can acknowledge a third person to keep this acknowledgment ceremony going. Then please report back to me and tell me what happened."

Later that day the junior executive went in to see his boss, who had been noted, by the way, as being kind of a grouchy fellow. He sat his boss down and he told him that he deeply admired him for being a creative genius. The boss seemed very surprised. The junior executive asked him if he would accept the gift of the blue ribbon and would he give him permission to put it on him. His surprised boss said, "Well, sure." The junior executive took the blue ribbon and placed it right on his boss's jacket above his heart. As he gave him the last extra ribbon, he said, "Would you do me a favor? Would you take this extra ribbon and pass it on by honoring somebody else? The young boy who first gave me the ribbons is doing a project in school and we want to keep this recognition ceremony going and find out how it affects people."

That night the boss came home to his 14-year-old son and sat him down. He said, "The most incredible thing happened to me today. I was in my office and one of the junior executives came in and told me he admired me and gave me a blue ribbon for being a creative genius. Imagine. He thinks I'm a creative genius. Then he put this blue ribbon that says 'Who I Am Makes A Difference'" on my jacket above my heart. He gave me an extra ribbon and asked me to find somebody else to honor. As I was driving home tonight, I started thinking about whom I would honor with this ribbon and I thought about you. I want to honor you.

My days are really hectic and when I come home I don't pay a lot of attention to you. Sometimes I scream at you for not getting good enough grades in school and for your bedroom being a mess, but somehow tonight, I just wanted to sit here and, well, just let you know that you do make a difference to me. Besides your mother, you are the most important person in my life. You're a great kid and I love you!"

The startled boy started to sob and sob, and he couldn't stop crying. His whole body shook. He looked up at his father and said through his tears, "I have been contemplating suicide, Dad, because I didn't think you loved me. Now I know you care."

The boss went back to work a changed man. He was no longer a grouch but made sure to let all his employees know that they made a difference. The junior executive helped several other young people with career planning and never forgot to let them know that they made a difference in his life. The young boy and his classmates learned a valuable lesson.

Who you are DOES make a difference.

Monday, November 16, 2009

The Air of Catalano


"We cannot live the afternoon of life according to the program of life's morning; for what in the morning was true will in evening become a lie."
-- C.G. Jung

For several years, I would have said something not so flattering - here and there and everywhere. But, time passes and you start to forget, you're left with well wishing and a small smile. Then you're actually overcome with happiness to discover their happiness. You look forward to what they're looking forward to.

My high school sweetheart stopped by my work today to drop something off. He had spent time overseas, a little time in both Afghanistan and Iraq and my co-workers sent him care packages. He presented them with a flag that flew over there, it was really nice. The whole situation was nice.

What I would have said years ago (probably over a decade now) would not have been flattering. I most likely would never have signed him up back then to receive the packages. At the time, some of the trash talk was actually truth but in the landscape of time comes other truths, other things you begin to notice and see with age. Understanding of how everything went - my own faults and his too get added to the mix and make the story somehow different than it was back then. Anger, hurt, I barely remember these but I know they existed at one point. Very deeply but no more. There aren't even scars left behind. But - when someone says to me (after his departure) "He is gorgeous, is he married?" And I can easily say "yes" with a genuine smile. "Too bad," was her response. I chuckled. I spent three years with him, that was enough for me. Still - there is that bit of pride. As Spice once said, after seeing some old photos, "He's a total Jordan Catalano." Yeah, it creates a strange sense of pride but one worth feeling good about because all I've got left there is part of my story... and at least that part is now beautiful in it's own way.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Solitude or Isolation?

It creeps in at the most unforeseen moments. Or, sometimes, they are foreseen. In the act of solitude one may feel the twinge of loneliness. I have recently made the active choice to not actively seek dating. I'm not looking at the moment. And I haven't been looking for quite a few moments. Yet - even though this is MY choice... I still can't help but feel it once in a while. Loneliness. Not of the friendship kind or the family kind. Not of the every minute kind or of the every hour kind or even the everyday kind. Rather, just of the creep up on me here and there kind.

It's been mostly when I'm at home. Or I'm heading home. And when I realize it's coming, I run away to do anything to avoid it. Well, almost anything... I'm still not looking. Recently, in with my spiritual director as well as my therapist, we've talked about it. I've been looking to create more "me" time. Time at home to do the things I enjoy. Writing, reading, cooking, baking... movies and TV shows on DVD. Solitude. What I didn't think of when deciding I wanted more of this was the prospect of occasional bouts of loneliness. My spiritual director pointed out the difference between isolation and solitude. Isolation means prevalent and regular, almost constant loneliness. Solitude not so much. Just the occasional pangs. The other difference between the two... isolation takes you out of the world. Solitude means you are still a part of it, just living in it alone - at times. Isolation cuts you off, solitude integrates you.

So - I'm trying to learn to deal with it. And by deal with it, I mean not to begin to lean on those things I've used as crutches in the past. Crutches which have lead me astray at times. Is it working? I don't know yet. Won't know until it happens again, in the sense that it frightens me. Time will tell.

Is solitude working? Yes. I'm chillin' a whole bunch more than I used to. Still could use a few more nights at home than what I'm taking right now but I'll figure that out. I'm on a decent path at the moment, just don't want to derail and end up lost in the woods again.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Random Thought #8

"There is a great need for sarcasm font. "

-taken from a forward

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Keyed

Keys have the ability to scrap paint. Ahh - we already know this. Over a year ago, I thought my car had been keyed. A co-worker came outside with me to look at it. Nope, it was just tar across the side of my car door. No big deal. Whew!

However - yesterday, I noticed a white scratch in my paint. Three small ones on the side. It crossed my mind momentarily that maybe someone keyed my vehicle. Then I just assumed it was a scratch from something else. Denial, maybe. Wrong, definitely. Last night, after running an errand for a friend's baby shower gift, I went to mom and dad's to wash my clothes. I was getting out of the car, pulling out my laundry basket and my recyclables. The recyclables were light and in paper and plastic so I placed them on my trunk. At just that moment, in the same moment I was grabbing my laundry basket... I noticed the scratch; long, white and twisted around to make it that much longer. All I could manage to say was "this is bullshit".

Someone had a good time on my trunk. Someone damaged my stuff. Not cool, y'all. Not cool at all. Is it someone I know? Is it not someone I know? Was it random or could this be part of a much bigger problem? Was this nothing more than an isolated incident involving someone I know? Is it someone who knows of me even if I don't know them... hmm...

Probably random, either way, disappointing. Come on - there's no need to damage other people's stuff. What kind of thrill does it really give you? And if it's someone who's trying to upset me... well... you've damaged my paint job... good for you. It's malicious, yes. Stupid, yes. Making me cry, I don't think so. Making me boil on the inside, nope.

Sadly, you waste your time on bullshit.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Like the Hot Ovens

Ahhh... I screwed up. I drank too much this weekend, drank too much when I knew I had stuff bothering me. Drank too much and lost control of what I had control over. Namely, my mood. By tomorrow (or at the latest - Wednesday) I should be back to normal. Until then, I plan to keep my mouth shut. Just about everything. No complaints, no condemning. Just going to leave it all be. I wish I hadn't made the mistake but I was fighting off something. Fighting off a few things and I fell into an old pattern.

Dammit. And all I can say is "this too shall pass", even if I don't believe it 100% of the time. What if feeling like this is permanent? (It's not... but when you're feeling it in your chest and down your arms, it feels like it might be forever... even though you know it's not.)

I'll go through the motions tonight and make my way to bed at a decent hour. That way, tomorrow, just maybe, I can wake up and remember the last couple days as nothing more than a distant dream. Much like that hot oven dream I had on Saturday night. My apartment was lucky to have not gone up in flames, in the dream, I remember that much... weird.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Peace Quote #4

Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.
- Jackson Brown and H. Jackson Brown, JR

Thursday, November 5, 2009

The Fifth Day of November

Yay! My scale said I was back in my usual three pound range this morning. I mean, I'd really be cheering it up if it had actually started going down, out of my usual three pound range. But... in time.

Funny how quiet things are today... after last night's loss... but - even if they didn't win the World Series, they're still champs. They still got farther along than everyone but the Yankees roster. That's still something to smile about.

Congratulations, Yankees and to your fans too.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Short and Stout

My dad is right. It happens. And it's frustrating but it does happen. I'm a little perplexed by it but then again - maybe I'm not. We'll find out tomorrow when I get back on my scale. Today it went up by a whole pound. And I've been working out - rather hardcore, if I do say so myself. My scale is officially (again) at the highest it's ever been. Today, I stepped out of the 3 pound range I should be in, based on the idea that the average person's weight fluctuates within a 3 pound range most of the time.

Today Fed Ex should be dropping off my new mirror as well. A full length one so that I can see myself from top to bottom. I honestly believe that if I had a mirror during the last year, (besides the one in my bathroom that has a Funhouse effect once you hit a certain spot in the glass, thank God I'm short or I'd be looking at a deformed version of my head each day - and this particular mirror is only for the top half anyway), I wouldn't have gone this far overboard.

I was hanging with one of my girls last night (her alias has yet to be determined) and we discussed the issue at hand. She and I sometimes take a decent amount of time between seeing each other. Not because we don't want to, we just live opposite lives (work-wise). And she was willing to be completely honest with me. She said a few months ago, after one of our long breaks, she looked at me and thought "oh my... she's gotten rounder". We laughed. Because it's true. She's someone who's seen me when I'm at my "normal" weight... when I'm a much smaller size than where I am now. The fact is... while I'm acting obsessed about it, I've got a big job on my hands. And most of my focus at the moment rests in this one goal. I've had this weight on me for somewhere within a six month to one year range. My mom said she thinks it happened right after I moved into my new place. Maybe...

Other goals to follow soon...

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Live Now

- By John & Patrice Robson

"How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives."
-- Annie Dillard

We lose the power of the moment because we're so rarely in it. We're reliving the past or speculating about the future. We continue to believe that tomorrow's the day when I'll be more capable, more wealthy, more fit and more loving. Meanwhile, I'm just putting in time, dreaming of better things but not making any concrete move to realize them.

When you find yourself thinking of the future or the past, bring your awareness into the present moment. Really experience how you feel and what's happening around you, without judgment. If we can treasure each moment, our lives will be rich, no matter what we have accomplished.

"Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered for they are gone forever."
-- Horace Mann

"If, before going to bed every night, you will tear a page from the calendar, and remark, 'there goes another day of my life, never to return,' you will become time conscious."
-- A. B. Zu Tavern

Monday, November 2, 2009

Weepy But Not Weeping

I find it funny how just when I'm going to finally take time for myself... my time goes right out the window. And pressure starts pressing down on the shoulders. Much of what I'm talking about is work related but not all of it. Sadly, what is work related started worming it's way into my other relationships. Luckily, I kept reminding myself that this is a no-go in my life. Work stays at work. Unless it's a social thing.

Suddenly, in the last week I've found myself feeling two emotions regularly... one, I've been feeling instantly bitchy at times. Kind of showing up whenever it wanted and making a point of letting others know that they're annoying me. Sadly, it's not that they're really annoying me though - it's that I'm just feeling generally annoyed. When I don't get to do my thing in the order in which I like, I'm discombobulated for the rest of the day. Routine, I guess you could say. Two, I've been getting crazy weepy. Not crying weepy, just choked up. On Saturday, seeing the kids out getting their candy made me choked up, over and over. And forget it during the game - I am still surprised I didn't start crying. Harry Kalas almost got some more tears. And MJ did actually get some real tears from me in the beginning of the movie.

I wouldn't say these are mood swings. Maybe it's just PMS plus having a pile of work that's finally, just now, getting a smidge smaller. Unlike my scale, btw. I guess I shouldn't expect too much after just one week but I want to see that weight off - NOW. Ok... I'm willing to wait it out and feel a sense of accomplishment from it. I'm willing to be the dreaded "p" word.

Patient.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Father Forgets

by W. Livingston Larned condensed as in "Readers Digest"

Listen, son: I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily wet on your damp forehead. I have stolen into your room alone. Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. Guiltily I came to your bedside.

There are the things I was thinking, son: I had been cross to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you gave your face merely a dab with a towel. I took you to task for not cleaning your shoes. I called out angrily when you threw some of your things on the floor.

At breakfast I found fault, too. You spilled things. You gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table. You spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand and called, "Goodbye, Daddy!" and I frowned, and said in reply, "Hold your shoulders back!"

Then it began all over again in the late afternoon. As I came up the road I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles. There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before your boyfriends by marching you ahead of me to the house. Stockings were expensive-and if you had to buy them you would be more careful! Imagine that, son, from a father!

Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how you came in timidly, with a sort of hurt look in your eyes? When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption, you hesitated at the door. "What is it you want?" I snapped.

You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge, and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your small arms tightended with an affection that God had set blooming in your heart and which even neglect could not wither. And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs.

Well, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped from my hands and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding-this was my reward to you for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years.

And there was so much that was good and fine and true in your character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn itself over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous impulse to rush in and kiss me good night. Nothing else matters tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the darkness, and I have knelt there, ashamed!

It is feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these things if I told them to you during your waking hours. But tomorrow I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my tongue when impatient words come. I will keep saying as if it were a ritual: "He is nothing but a boy-a little boy!"

I am afraid I have visualized you as a man. Yet as I see you now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are still a baby. Yesterday you were in your mother's arms, your head on her shoulder. I have asked too much, too much.

Friday, October 30, 2009

This Is It

I skipped watching the game on Thursday night. Which, due to our team's loss, I'm not terribly upset about now. Not that I was terribly upset that night either... because I went to go see This Is It. Michael Jackson's documentary about his never going to happen concert. Let me tell you something... it would have been amazing. Brilliant. Amazing. I think what I missed most about not watching the game was sitting on biff's couch with her. But - we've got tonight.

The movie advertisements for This Is It kept telling you that it would show you a side of him you've never seen. It's true. What you saw was the artist at work. And quite the artist he was - meticulous, knew what he was envisioning "I want it played the way I wrote it". He was funny too. Funnier than I would have ever guessed he would be. Spice and I enjoyed it. It really was something to see on the big screen. Everyone there clapped when it ended, as if he could hear us. Who knows - maybe he can.

Got me thinking too - about dedication to one's work. I'm talking the passionate kind of work, the thing that makes you complete, not just the thing that you do for money. For me, it'd be writing. For others, homemaking or finance or anything, really. But - can you imagine if we were all that dedicated? If we all made such a big go at it? Or, at least, a big attempted go at it.

What would this world become?

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Random Thought #7

"Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards orFAQ's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft."

-taken from a forward

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Offensive Player

Slipped up with my plans last night. Didn't get a workout in AND I had myself a Quarter Pounder with cheese. No fries, just the burger, which promptly ended up on my shirt. Well, the mustard and ketchup did.

But - to see my niece kick in a goal was worth it. Cutie runs like she's dancing, smiles and giggles. Her pop, my brother, admitted he was more excited than she was. Still, it's something to be proud of. I've never done it. Of course, I never played soccer beyond a little bit in gym class - at some point.

Tonight. Tonight, I will venture off to my possible new gym. I was going to wait until after the world series but, really, there's no need for that. I can squeeze in workouts between games. I'm feeling really motivated right now so I think I need to get on it while I can.

I'm all about the cardio machines, my friends. All about them. Always have been. I haven't been doing my abs or my arm workout as of late because I keep remembering what one of my professors had said when I was training (for a short time) to be a personal trainer. You have to get rid of the fat sitting on top of the muscles before you tone them. Otherwise, you'll just have fat on top of muscle. Having toned muscles does help burn fat more efficiently but it doesn't burn fat off in the same way that simple cardiovascular exercise does. You gotta keep burning it to lose it.

Changing my meds the little bit that I have seems to be doing me a world of good. I'm thinking clearer than I can ever remember doing before. Cutting back my social schedule has taken some emotional getting used to but I'm enjoying that as well. REALLY enjoying it, to be honest. And smoking American Spirits instead of Parliament... well... I'm smoking alot less than I had before.

Just have to keep running the field and maybe I'll end up in the proverbial footsteps of my niece.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Peace Quote #3

Life isn't fair, but it's still good.
- Regina Brett

Sunday, October 25, 2009

'Wild Things' is scary, but so is life

- Ruben Navarrette Jr.
Special to CNN

Editor's Note: Ruben Navarrette Jr. is a member of the San Diego Union-Tribune editorial board, a nationally syndicated columnist and a regular contributor to CNN.com. Read his column here.

San Diego, California (CNN) --

Maurice Sendak is my king.

No, not because Sendak, in 1963, turned 10 sentences into a children's classic. "Where the Wild Things Are" tells the tale of a boy named Max who runs away from home and sails off to an island where the fantastical creatures that live there proclaim him their king. And not because the film version of that book, directed by the brilliantly edgy Spike Jonze and co-written by Dave Eggers, took the No. 1 spot at the box office last weekend with $32.5 million.

Interestingly, this is less of a children's movie than a movie about childhood. Moviegoers 18 and over accounted for 43 percent of the audience while parents with children made up just 27 percent, according to distributor Warner Bros.

I don't care about any of that. I'm probably the only member of Generation X who never read the book. For what it's worth, my wife and I did take our 4½-year-old daughter to the movie last weekend, and I thought it was boring. But the important thing is that my little girl loved it.

Did you catch that? All Americans need to take a deep breath and repeat after me: Not everything has to be about you. Sometimes you take your child to a movie, and, if you don't like it, you keep your mouth shut and enjoy the popcorn.

In the film, Max acts out in ugly and violent ways, and winds up shouting at and biting his mother before running away from home. Once on the island, the monsters Max encounters are moody, clingy, and occasionally violent. You know, like Max.

All week, I've been reading about how many parents are wringing their hands over the movie, worried that it is too scary, too gloomy, too violent and too apt to inspire bad behavior in children. One father reports that his daughter saw the movie and then promptly came home and bit her mother.

Yep, the movie's definitely to blame for that -- better a bad movie than bad parenting.

I don't think we've done my daughter irreparable harm by exposing her to the Wild Things. I'm not losing any sleep over it, and -- to prove it -- my wife informs me that I dozed off for a few minutes in the theater.

No, the reason that the 81-year-old Sendak is my king is because of what he said during a recent Newsweek interview that was intended to promote the film but no doubt wound up offending parents all over the country. It went like this:

Reporter: "What do you say to parents who think the Wild Things film may be too scary?"

Sendak: "I would tell them to go to hell. That's a question I will not tolerate."

Reporter: "Because kids can handle it?"

Sendak: "If they can't handle it, go home. Or wet your pants. Do whatever you like. But it's not a question that can be answered."

Sendak: "This concentration on kids being scared, as though we as adults can't be scared. Of course we're scared. I'm scared of watching a TV show about vampires. I can't fall asleep. It never stops. We're grown-ups; we know better, but we're afraid."

Reporter: "Why is that important in art?"

Sendak: "Because it's truth. You don't want to do something that's all terrifying. I saw the most horrendous movies that were unfit for child's eyes. So what? I managed to survive."

Remember, this guy is 81 years old. I miss the way people used to be. A couple of generations ago, parents didn't worry about whether kids were happy all the time or comfortable 24/7 or wrapped in protective coating. Of course, they didn't want their children hurt. But it's hard to imagine they would have spent much time and effort trying to keep kids from being scared.
Quite the contrary, they used to tell them scary stories at bedtime or on camping trips -- usually the kind intended to frighten little ones into behaving correctly. "And then one day, all the kids who didn't listen to their mommies and daddies just disappeared. ..."

I get it. We really, really, really like our children. In fact, we love our children and we think they're the most precious little darlings ever created, and so naturally we want to protect them. And we should protect them from some things -- predators, disease, abuse, etc. But we shouldn't protect them from all things. And we certainly can't protect them from life. And part of life is getting scared now and then. In time, we learn to separate reality from fantasy.

And yet, while one infamous set of parents could face criminal charges for pretending their son was in a balloon, other parents think nothing of keeping their kids in a bubble.

The opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of Ruben Navarrette Jr.

Friday, October 23, 2009

A Different Type of Patience

I've been going through changes. Changes that may not be seen to the naked eye quite yet (I still look the same) but I'm feeling them. Big time.

I've been more withdrawn than I used to be but not in a miserable "I am cranky" kind of way. Rather, in a "I just want to take care of myself" kind of way. I've been trying to keep my mouth shut about things though it appears that sometimes I get myself in trouble by not telling people what I've been thinking. Sometimes not saying something can cause a tense situation to take shape. Oh well. You live and you learn. I don't always want to invite everyone to everything it appears. I only want to spend time with the people I really like.

Honestly, it's not intended to be snobbery. It's just intended to be me giving myself some room to figure out how I want my life to be... just for me. It's me wanting to take care of myself in a way I never have before. There's no one else to do it, after all. I see how my friends look as I sit with them at dinner and I know I look different. They look really nice, I look not so nice. They look like women who know how to make themselves look good, they look like women who care about their presentation. They look like women who take the time. Part of this problem is my lack of weight loss thus far. The other is my clothing. I don't have that many nice pieces at this point, I want to go out and get them but I want to lose some weight first. I don't want to have ten outfits that are too big in a month or two. Meanwhile, I have to wear jeans everywhere and tops that I'm less than confident in.

December 11... I will get to finally get over a rather large hump. The kind of hump that's been holding me back. Credit card debt. Waiting for this... on top of the weight loss... is a biggie. Once this is in order, I can get my budget in better order. Then I can get my wardrobe in order. I know, I know, I know... that I'm not supposed to be looking at life like "I'll be happy when..." but the fact of the matter is, I'm simply looking forward to a time when things are a bit more evened out. I'm looking forward to being a girl again - clothes, makeup, etc. Right now I just don't feel it, I don't feel the use of any of it since concrete changes are right around the bend. Not that I'm depressed... I'm really not. I'm just trying to be patient in a way that I've never had to be before.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

What I Love About Baseball

(Particularly Phillies baseball.)

After a major win, the fans come out of their homes, after the last ball is hit and caught, there is something in the air. In these moments, there is nothing more spiritually charged than the aftermath of the great American past time. During those intense moments everyone is on their feet. No creeds, no religions, no ethnicity. In those moments neither money nor the past matter. In one city, thousands upon thousands of people are cheering for and hoping for the same exact thing. They are all hoping for the win. If only this mentality could so easily be spread to other areas of life, world peace just might be possible.

Yes, it's a sport which means someone wins and someone loses. But, learn from the players... no need to hate the other team... they chat with each other while waiting on base.

In a city like Philadelphia (as well as so many others around the country) when things are moving along, everyone buys into the hope of the win. Everyone (that is - everyone who has even a minor interest in the sport, everyone who has any team/city spirit whatsoever) is hoping that justice prevails and that the good guy comes out on top.

Whether the players are jogging around the field or moving as fast as they possibly can, it is interesting to think that at some point, not too terribly long ago... many of them were sitting in the back of a history class somewhere, sitting in the front of an algebra class somewhere else. They sat there hoping the teacher didn't call on them because they simply did not know the answer. They are just people, like you and me. Except now they get to listen to the hoots and hollers of fans as they round the bases.

They worked hard to get there. If only we were willing to work so hard... imagine that.

In the last seconds, there is silence, as if an entire city hold it's collective breath at once. You move closer to the TV, rather involuntarily, and you jump up as the second of "win" collects in the air. Then - almost without warning - a city erupts. Not in violence but in celebration. All you can do at that point is be thankful you were there to see a dream come true.

Dreams often falter under the weight of living. Hopes get squashed and drive turns to nothing but sputter and stall. Then - suddenly - a batter steps to the plate. Opportunity comes around for the little boys grown up, little boys in a man sized suit, playing a game. Possibility is real. At that plate stands someone who shows you, in everyday ware, that it can happen - something can happen as long as you keep trying.

The game they play has outlasted strikes, boredom and loss. Just as relationships and the long road to our own dreams hold. Stick it out. Not easy but possible.

There is a spirit, a love, a passion that goes beyond the everyday and finds it's way into the average man's (or woman's) heart. It is in the crack of the bat, the soar of the ball, the glove of a man momentarily turned demi-god. Late bills, the noisy neighbors, and the job you hate fall to the wayside. What you are witnessing is the human spirit come alive. This is baseball. And when your team wins, it is nothing less than radiant, nothing less than glorious. It is hope. It is faith seen. It is hoping for the best and waiting it out until it finally shows up. It is love in action.

And that is what I love about baseball.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Boring As That

I jumped on the treadmill last night. And I walked and walked and walked and walked. Then I ran out to the grocery store this morning and stocked myself to the gills. Better foods, fewer calories. Simple as that. Way back when I used to go to the gym all the time, I had a plan to knock off the initial weight and it worked. I miss that plan. I'm going back to that plan. I've lost serious poundage before and I'm going to again.

I have no doubt that I'm able, as long as I stick to my plan... which is a permanent plan... not just a diet plan. This sounds redundant, I realize. I just have to keep reminding myself so that when I do join the gym again (hopefully next week) - I will remember what I'm doing and what I'm going for. Once spring gets here, I am going to start training for the bike ride.

Redundant is boring. I realize that at this moment this is a rather boring post. Sorry about that.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

EVEN SUCH IS TIME

-Sir Walter Raleigh

Even such is time, that takes in trust
Our youth, our joys, our all we have,
And pays us but with earth and dust;
Who, in the dark and silent grave,
When we have wandered all our ways,
Shuts up the story of our days:
But from this earth, this grave, this dust,
My God shall raise me up, I trust.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Off to Wild, Wonderful West Virginia

Off to West Virginia for a weekend. Earlier in the week I was busy thinking it wasn't a good time but today I'm thinking differently. I think it's probably coming at it's best time. It'll give me plenty of time to sleep, to try my new meds, to read (finally going to finish up She's Come Undone and start the Outliers), to write and to take a few good, long walks. West Virginia is not necessarily exciting but I am looking forward to making my grandfather smile. We'll probably get there while he's at his dance meeting new ladyfolk. Did I ever tell you my grandfather is a bit on the playboy side? He dates more than I do. At 82.

Going to see my beloved tomorrow too. He's closer to my pop-pop's tiny unincorporated town than he is to here (by far) so I'm taking the opportunity. Looking forward to seeing him.

My horoscope today said that my life is about to take off. But, that I should watch my confidence because too much of it can put people off. I like that one... it's hopeful. I'm not sure about too much confidence but who knows?

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Random Thought #6

"The letters T and G are very close to each other on a keyboard. This recently became all too apparent to me and consequently I will never be ending a work email with the phrase "Regards" again."

-taken from a forward

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Extended Release

We shall see. My doctor is switching things up just a smidge on me. We shall see if it works better. She's changing my dosage and the type of medication I normally take. Still the same brand, just going to try out the new extended release instead of upping my dosage with the regular type. Why? Because the anxiety is getting to me. I've been walking around with this sense of anxiety for weeks and quite frankly, it's getting on my fucking nerves.

She said I should be able to get up easier on this new stuff. And she said I won't be as dead to the world quite as quickly at night. It'll take a few extra hours before I feel the full sedating effect, which will be a nice change. I gotta admit.

She's also really not thrilled about my rotating shifts. She said especially during the winter months, it's hard on anyone... even harder when you're dealing with a mood disorder. I told her I can't ask for more than what my work has given me at this point. She did, however, offer another doctor's note, just in case things do get worse than what they are now.

The good news is that I'm functioning. I may be walking around with a knot in my stomach every day, I may be walking around with some momentary confusion and with dissociation (the feeling that I'm not attached to my body, as if I were in a movie) periodically but I am functioning. Which is way better than what I know it can be.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Hurry Up and Wait

So I was planning to join the gym tonight but that's not going to happen now. I think I'll have to wait until next week. Or maybe even a couple weeks. Which stinks (since I was so pumped up about it) but financially it's the only thing I can do. It's all the extra setup fees that I hadn't even thought of that's making me have to wait. Lately, I've been getting the feeling that my patience is being tested. Everything I'd like to have going on seems to be placed on hold.

And I'm stuck listening to really bad elevator music in the process. But, oh well... sometimes "wait" is the only answer you'll get. Meanwhile, I've just got to figure out how to pass the time without getting cranky.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Joining a Gym

It's kind of like this... I need to take the next few months and get myself rolling right along again. I have to. I feel like I'm dying inside otherwise but it's not as easy as I had figured it would be. I kind of figured I'd have all sorts of alone time but that doesn't seem to be the case. Not that I haven't had any but I guess I thought it'd be more.

Tomorrow night, I will go join a gym. I've decided on RetroFitness because it's only $20 a month. I need to for multiple reasons. 1) I've got to lose this extra weight. I feel uncomfortable physically, I feel uncomfortable mentally and I miss wearing clothes I like. All of which leads to lower self esteem. At least for me. 2) I want to quit smoking soon and I need to be able to rev up my working out because of potential weight gain. 3) I want to be in good enough shape to start training for the bike ride next year. 4) I just feel better all the way around when I do work out, mentally and physically. 5) Very simply, it'll help me to be healthy. 6) Next summer, I want to wear a bathing suit.

No reason not to, really. For $20 a month.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Peace Quote #2

"Today, contemplate the meaning of acceptance. Can you accept that you are whole and that nothing is wrong with you—just as you are? Experience the peace that acceptance brings."

-enneagraminstitute.com

Friday, October 9, 2009

Rumor Mill

One's past needs to be left behind. Yes, it helps to make you who you are but we can't hold onto it. You hold onto it, you get stuck. You stay in a rut. You dwell and live in what's not right now. As someone who's trying to leave it all behind and live a new life, I keep reminding myself of this. As someone who's still trying to heal from all sorts of bad memories, I keep reminding myself of this. I like to think I'm successful more often than not... trying to make things good instead of bad.

However - once in a while, the past comes back to bite you. You may be a very different person than you were before but still there are skeletons. Last night, I was bitten by my past. Made me shake, honestly. There are things I've done that I'm not proud of and there are things that people have said I've done that I did not do. Things sometimes spread around towns and from person to person with a steadiness that amazes me. The thing is, what you did twelve years ago shouldn't mean anything if you're not that person anymore. Some of us do actually learn from our mistakes.

Getting a random text message asking if you've done this, that or the other thing... things you acknowledge but don't live anymore... it just stings. As if that's who you are and who you'll always be. Makes me sick to know that anyone was talking about me in that capacity... especially since some of it is fiction. Growing up, getting through my 20's, I had hoped other people would too.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Quiet Miracles

If you could have one small, quiet miracle today, what would it be?

- From Grief To Grace, Helen R. Lambin

Many of us are looking for our miracle. We are waiting, hoping, and some of us are praying. What does our miracle look like?

It is different for everyone. Some of us would like a cure, some of us would like a job, some of us would like to not feel the pain of loss. Some of us are hoping that we meet someone who can love us and whom we can love. Some of us are hoping for all of the above or none of the above. Still, many of us want something… something big.

However, in the grand scheme of things many of the big miracles take little miracles to be achieved. It takes one small step at a time, not always huge leaps and bounds. It takes treatment after treatment for the illness. Each time, you can hope that blood counts will be where they need to be or that the dosage keeps things in check. It takes writing up a resume and sending it out. It takes looking online or in the paper to see what is available to find that job. It takes getting through one day at a time to get over loss, whether it is big or small, until the loss is part of your landscape, no longer taking over who you are.

It takes being the person you really are to find your soulmate, “special someone”, or other sickeningly sweet title. It takes the little steps in knowing yourself, where you are headed and who you want to be to find the person who fits you best. The little steps in this? Questioning yourself, digging deeper and discovering what you think life consists of, what you value, is a long process… one which many people don’t start until late in life, after many a failed relationship and many disappointments. Discovering what makes you tick takes little step by little step.

So, the question remains… what do you want today? Granted, a lottery win does sound nice… but that would be a big miracle, not the little kind that helps you get to where you want to go… not the kind you can hope for every single day and possibly, very realistically incur.

What do you ask for? What little miracle would just help you make your way to what you really, deeply and truly want? The miracle is that you keep working toward something instead of standing still. A miracle, by definition, is something extraordinary. There is nothing ordinary in moving ahead instead of deciding “this is as good as it gets” when you know it could be better. Many, many people will spend most, if not all, of their lives stagnant. Not by circumstance but by choice. I do not want you nor I to be the people who have decided to live on a plateau, where only a tornado coming mixes things up a bit.

What small, quiet miracle would you have today?

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Jerry's Attitude

- Author unknown

Jerry is the kind of guy you love to hate. He is always in a good mood and always has something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!"

He was a unique manager because he had several waiters who had followed him around from restaurant to restaurant. The reason the waiters followed Jerry was because of his attitude. He was a natural motivator. If an employee was having a bad day, Jerry was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.

Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Jerry and asked him, I don't get it! You can't be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?" Jerry replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, Jerry, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood. I choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life.
"Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested. "Yes it is," Jerry said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line: It's your choice how you live life."

I reflected on what Jerry said. Soon thereafter, I left the restaurant industry to start my own business. We lost touch, but I often thought about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it. Several years later, I heard that Jerry did something you are never supposed to do in the restaurant business...he left the back door open one morning and was held up at gun point by three armed robbers. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking from nervousness, slipped off the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found relatively quickly and rushed to the local trauma center. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Jerry was released from the hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body.

I saw Jerry about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied, "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Wanna see my scars?" I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the robbery took place. "The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked the back door," Jerry replied. "Then, as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live or I could choose to die. I chose to live."

"Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?" I asked. Jerry continued, "...the paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the ER and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read 'he's a dead man.' I knew I needed to take action." "What did you do?" I asked. "Well, there was a big burly nurse shouting questions at me," said Jerry. "She asked if I was allergic to anything. 'Yes' I replied. The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breath and yelled, 'BULLETS!'

Over their laughter, I told them, 'I am choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead'." Jerry lived thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude. I learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully.

Attitude, after all, is everything.

Monday, October 5, 2009

Random Thought #5

"I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger."

-taken from a forward

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Oh Well

I liked him. Haven't heard from him (as previously mentioned) and now it's done. Heard from him last night. In the middle of the night. Apparently he isn't ready. Text me at 3AM because it's been eating him up.

Not sure what exactly he's not ready for since he never actually inquired as to what I'm looking for but I'll accept it. I liked him. This sucks.

Told him that if he feels like contacting me in the future, I'm ok with that. But - that's that. Done and over with. Can't actually decide for myself what I want to do next.

Do I rejoin match again? Or do I just go about my daily life and assume some mens will come along? I don't really want to spend the money on match so I guess I'll just have to go about my life.

Still, this stinks. Though maybe I should just be happy... my life is wide open again, no need to feel like I have to do any one course of action in particular. I think I'll stick with that feeling as best as I can. I liked him enough to stick with him, if he had wanted it too. But, I am not exactly feeling desperate enough to throw myself at anyone. If nothing else, at least I know how it feels to not settle now. That's something.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

The Walls of Jericho

It was a Jewish adage in which a father was teaching his little son to be less afraid, to have more courage. "Jump!" he said, "and I'll catch you." And the little boy trusted him, and the little boy jumped. And when his father caught him, he felt filled with love. And when he didn't, he was filled with something else, something more...Life.

-Then She Found Me

Imagine everything is rolling along. Your usual days... something annoying here, something funny there, something boring underneath and something wonderful up above. It's just your usual nine to five workday; it's your usual Monday to Friday week. The seasons are changing as they do more months than not and the year is a non-descript one. Not the worst, not the best, it just is.

You're cruising along, hoping for the really good stuff but content with what you've got. You make changes and decisions and you learn how to live a little better - for you. You finally feel good about how you know yourself and how you relate to the world in general, even though you are still quite aware there is so much left to learn. Some of it scares you but you're not there yet so why get into a panic about what could be? You're doing alright.

Then - you hit a brick wall. You literally have to stop in your tracks and look up, look around, figure out what's going on. Why do you feel so lost? Why is the refrigerator empty and why hasn't your hair been getting washed at it's healthiest frequency? Why aren't you exercising? Why aren't you able to reason out what should have rolled right off your back? Why aren't you able to see a way around this wall? Why does this wall look more formidable than the walls of Jericho? No matter how loud you yell, nothing's shaking, nothing's falling, nothing's coming down.

Is this it? Is it going to get better? Is this who I really am? Why am I this way? Why does everything hurt so much? Why am I obsessing? When did I start obsessing? Why can't I stop obsessing? Am I driving everyone off? It's best if I keep to myself but I need people right now. Where's God? Why'd He allow any of us to be made this way? Maybe if I ask for help... I'll be lucky enough to get back to my non-descript year, my basic workweek. Maybe the knots will disappear from my stomach for a while, maybe for good... I'd be happy with a while. Why have I always attracted so many hurts to myself? Is it because of this fucking wall? The one that's liable to show up whenever the temperature drops a bit? Or because my hormones are a bit on the intense side? Do they see this wall? Do I bring the wall with me? How can I leave it behind when there's no hope that it will go away for good - in this life? Why am I lashing out like an animal in a corner?

Can someone love me regardless?

I don't want pity but I ask for understanding. I'll be back around once the wall starts to crumble. And I'll be back around for quite a while before the wall builds back up again. My knowledge, my esteem, my confidence will be back too. Though sometimes the wall has a mirror finish so looking at all you are and all you've done is unavoidable unless you go backwards. Being reminded is haunting.

I refuse to go backwards.

Two roads diverged in the woods, one less traveled by is the one I have chosen and the one given to me. I had no chance on the other one but this is a fact I'm ok with, once the wall gives way to some light.

The only thing that concerns me still - am I too much to take? I have no choice but to embrace the embarrassment, the uncertainty, the lack of knowing when, if, or how it might affect me again. Who I might scare off - and who might just let it be.

There are no concrete lessons hiding in the bricks, even once they've crumbled, you've just got to hop over the foundation and try to pick up where you last left off.