Tripping Down the Path

No Guarantees

2011-05-29T14:27:00.000-07:00

The world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be the beginning.
~Ivy Baker Priest

Now there's no guarantee that my heart will not be broken - love always carries that threat. There is no guarantee of anything in this life but it is simply time for me to start something new. The journey has been grand - it's been big - it's been teetering on complete madness from time to time and it's been worth noting. Three and a half years of noting. Still, it's time for me to move in a new direction. It's time for me to leave the path behind and rejoice in the clearing at the end of this path.

There's no guarantee that I won't trip a few times more - clumsy as I am, that may be the only guarantee that I can give. Thank you for reading and I hope that you'll join me on my new blog. This blog has been a coping technique for me as well as a healing tool. For many things though without realizing it, it has been primarily what I have used to get out all the aggressions and transgressions of one fateful night nearly four years ago. The thing - the situation - the reality of confusion surrounding the one thing I rarely talk about. The one thing I thought I was all the way over but the nightmares as of late - spawned by all sorts of positives (believe it or not) have assured me that I wasn't over it but merely in phase two of a three phase cycle. I started it with the intention of logging my bipolar reality. But - it quickly became something more.

As integration takes hold - as it needs to - for not only this one thing (though it remains primary) but many things that I simply wish to leave behind - I have made the decision that there are many things that I need to leave behind. Never forgetting but no longer reliving. It's time for a new chapter, a new journey, a statement that my past will no longer chain me, weigh me down and cause me to stumble as often as I have. Does it all go away just like that? (Snaps fingers.) Of course not. But - as I make the decision to follow my heart instead of my mind, my defenses and my fears, I can taste, smell and actualize the freedom I have wanted for so long.

I do wish for you to join me. If you have any interest in hearing about my new life... please feel free to check out my profile on this page or hit the little email symbol at the bottom of the post in order to get the link... you'll see my new blog under it... Something More. If you do not, I wish you the best of luck, the best of life and healing for anything that may be weighing you down, just as the night of July 3, 2007 weighed me down. (Yes, before I started writing this blog.) The confusion may never be completely cleared up... the factors involved just don't add up in so many ways. Consent at first turns into a frozen inability to say "get the fuck off me" once the pain began and I mananged to dissolve before both of our eyes. Humiliation turned quickly to flashbacks and textbook reactions that I simply remained unaware of until the past several days. Guilt. Phobias. Anger. Confusion. The inability to feel. Textbook, textbook, textbook. To make it clear... that July night wasn't the only bad experience I've had with men - not by a longshot - it just happened to be the pinnacle of a very, very long road. And this path I've been tripping down ever since, well, it's been the way out of a very dark wood. Even when the sun broke through the trees from time to time. The darkness always prevailed.

That is... until I met Numero Cinco. Whom I will give a proper pseudonym in the new blog. He makes me want to get better and be better. If it hadn't been for that one night... the night I literally peeled away from... thanking God that I did eventually get away. "You can't leave. I'm going to make you motherfucking bacon." (The motherfuck is mine - the rest was his.) I was scared but I left anyway... faking it all the way out to my car... assuring him I would see him later that night, knowing there was no way that I would. After relief came a flood of confusion and stale emotions... shaking and humility. Guilt. Anxiety attacks and disassociation. The extreme desire to simply run away... get away... move away. Textbook. I can't say that enough times. If it hadn't been for that one night, I wouldn't have gotten medicated... I wouldn't have bothered... and I wouldn't have met the guy that I now call mine. Or, at least, not likely. I honestly don't know where I would be. But - I wouldn't have been here.

God Bless, my faithful readers. If you hadn't been here, I'm not sure exactly what I would have done. Checking my analytics and seeing that I had readers all over the US really brought me a joy that only a writer can understand. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you - even without knowing some of you. Please feel free to call me at my new home. I'm excited but I very well may - at times - get a little homesick.

Coming Soon

2011-05-23T12:08:00.000-07:00

Not so thrilled with my last post. Feels kind of like a dead horse sitting there. But - that's what 4 hours of sleep and a 16 hour shift at a job you do NOT love will give you. (Even if there is alot of truth behind it, there was no point in pointing it out.)

So I've been working every day for the past several weeks. By the time all is said and done it will be 20 days without a break. Which doesn't exactly thrill me though sometimes you just do what you have to, right?

I am hoping to have more to say soon... very, very soon.

Getting Past the Prologue

2011-05-21T13:41:00.000-07:00

What is past is prologue
-William Shakespeare

The comedy was nowhere near as offensive as I've seen in the past. Only one of them pushed the envelope for me personally. Actually, he pushed the envelope for me as well as for Numero Cinco. I felt like crying, Cinco was hoping I wouldn't... though he wasn't laughing either. (I wasn't really going to burst out in tears and we both knew it.) The amazing part is that I wasn't personally offended. Quite frankly, what disgusted me had nothing to do with me. I was just that... disgusted. I'm not sure how real it was... it probably wasn't... hopefully it wasn't. Oh, please.. dear God... nah, it couldn't have been... could it?

Numero Cinco and I are having a great time and that's all I'm going to say about that at the moment.

A comedy competition was a nice break from the routine. Something new to try out. Something fun to do. I'm glad he asked me to go. When I walked in, we hung around with his comedian friend, chit chatting, listening to him talk about what his craft is to him and how he works on it. I was proud of him - even though I barely know him. A room full of people expecting to laugh at what you have to say is not an easy room to get up in front of. (Shit, a room full of people - for most of us - is not an easy room to get up in front of. Period.) As Cinco and I found a spot to sit down I caught eyes with a girl standing up right in front of us. I looked at her and almost through her for a moment. I hadn't noticed at first that we were looking right at one another. As I sat down, I had the thought "I know that girl." It wasn't until a few minutes later that her name came to mind and I was able to place her.

She wasn't someone I knew well - but we had a history. A strange and intricate twisting of fate that led us into and out of each other's life from time to time. I only recall having an actual conversation with her one time. We were at a BBQ years before.

She was the girlfriend who was with my high school sweetheart right after I was with him. Some say he cheated on me with her - others (including him) deny it. Either way, I'm over it and have been for just about forever now. The conversation at the BBQ took place a long time after their relationship had been over as well. Now I'm stuck wondering who's BBQ I spoke with her at. Why was I at that BBQ... who's house was that? Does it really matter? Maybe... because this is where the second connection comes in. She is the sister of a friend of my ex's. The one I lived with for years.

I however, forgot who she was enough to only give her the politest of smiles in return for the knowing smile she gave me. I actually would have said "hi" if I had realized prior to sitting down. I have no issues with her. I kept my eyes peeled after the show to see if she was walking by... she didn't and then Cinco and I left.

So - what is today's post really about then?

It's simple. It's about the past. The truth is... I do not like South Jersey (besides the shore) at all. I do not enjoy myself here and I do not enjoy going everywhere feeling like I could run into someone. Am I scared of them? Not usually. But - I choose simply to keep them firmly in my memories, if at all possible. I walked away (and they walked away) for reasons. Varied reasons, reasons I may never know or they many never know but reasons, nonetheless.

I do not enjoy reminiscing all that much - unless it's with my girls - the ones I choose and they have chosen me. I would rather make new memories, explore new places, people and things than continue to relive and remember all the negative crap that I have struggled to forget. Sure, there was some laughter in there but do I dare say it? There were so many more bad memories for me than good...it has been my own personal struggle to put it all behind me as opposed to keep living it over and over and over again. It's bad enough when things replay themselves without my express permission. I really don't need anyone to help "jog" my memory for me. When the movie of negativity starts in my head, I need to just let it play out. Usually new memories and people not tied to my past (except the select few) are the best remedy for this. Rarely does the stuff start when I am out and about enjoying my life anymore. This is still one of the main reasons I have wanted to move from the area. Nearly everywhere I go, I feel the "bad vibes" of a past I do not enjoy - for many reasons. And if I am not feeling the "bad vibes", the truth is, I am feeling a slight twinge of fear (sometimes in the back of my mind) that someone may cross my path like a black cat for the evening.

I do want to make one thing clear. I do not ignore my past. I have explored it and it's implications, lessons and repetitions many times but what I do not enjoy is running into it. I do not enjoy the discomfort that it causes me. The anxiety and the racing pulse. I do not enjoy the sensation of being reminded about this time or that time... or this or that person. At least not for a good chunk of it. I don't dislike everyone who did reside there - far from it. It's just easier for my mind to stay at rest and peace when I am not directly reminded. Not that the movie shuts off at every moment because of it. Sometimes the memories are so thick that I am talking to myself about it without noticing or I go into what I would refer to as a "zone". I have been asked if I am "alright" before. This usually breaks it because there's someone else to stimulate me - but it doesn't completely break the emotions connected to it, which is the most painful part. All of this does tend to get better when the medication is working well. As it is now but this is not a boundary I like to test.

Cheers to "my" girls and guys out there who don't take me back - even the ones who have seen me through. Thank you for choking me up in a beautiful way instead of in a way that makes me ask God to not let it be so. And here's to all of us who are finally making it to the meat of the story.

Jig of Myself

2011-05-18T16:36:00.000-07:00

On Monday morning, I hopped out of bed and ran to my living room. I turned on my PC and waited for it to start running. Meanwhile, I found myself actually hopping around a bit, doing a little jig of sorts. (Only momentarily, mind you.)

The big day was here. To some, it may not seem like much of a day. Just a regular Monday morning, back to the grind. Starting another class in a string of classes. But - to me - it was what I have been waiting for (sometimes with a more active interest than others) for the last 14 years. I was finally slipping into the chance to study what I feel I have been born to do. The sculpture hasn't been perfected yet but it has been started. The marble has been cracked. There will be challenges, without a doubt. I am sure of it.

I began American Lit II. And I am loving it! We've started out with Whitman.

BTW... a "B" in Spanish 102. Not exactly a thrill to receive but a relief after the disaster called "final oral evaluation".

I'm not sure if it's the new meds or if it's just some sort of something that has "clicked" within (or a little bit of both) but I am suddenly feeling very relaxed, very unburdened, very free from the type of anxiety that bothered me before. Granted, being able to wake up in the morning helps - having that extra time in my day. Putting less demand on myself helps as well. Accepting that I can only do so much in a day, etc, etc. I will get done what I get done and everything else will have to wait. Accepting that I have to take care of me for once - for real - and then worry about others. Been working as of late. While I have moments of insecurity, that others may be getting frustrated or upset with me for my new mindset, my new ways... I have to admit, I need (and have needed to step back) for quite some time now. I am no one else's responsibility (at this point) and no one is mine. Doesn't mean I won't treat you right... or them right... just means I'll do what I can. Everything else will have to just be.

Receipt Not Necessary

2011-05-12T09:20:00.000-07:00

She sounded annoyed when I said "nah". I guess it wasn't a proper enough "no". However - I did say "thank you" before getting back in my car and driving away. Nope... no receipt for me. Thank you for carrying my stuff in.

This morning - I did a little fashion show for myself. (I love being able to get up before the final bell goes off.) The kind I really tend to enjoy. I tried on all my shorts as well as a couple of skirts and dresses that I wore last year. I had bought most of them before embarking with Spice on a wonderful trip to Punta Cana.  Needed something to wear in the warm weather, after all. When I slid them on this morning I discovered that only one pair still fit. This time, in a positive way. They were all entirely too big to walk out of the house in without fearing that they may fall down.  I promptly threw them in the bag I had begun with a few other articles of clothing and before I knew it, it was full to the brim.  I then added that bag to a pile I had growing at the top of my stairs. (Well - not sure about a "pile" - a small TV and another full bag of clothing and accessories for Goodwill.)

These days I am walking around at least 20 pounds lighter than I have been in quite some time. On my 5'2", petite frame, that is alot of weight.  While I still have some to go before I'm 100% confident, I can tell you that being almost back to my "normal" size is liberating. Maybe my weight shouldn't matter so much to me but I am the one who has to look in the mirror at myself and determine if I can deal. I am the one who has to go shopping for my clothes and try not to cry when the sizes were getting bigger and bigger and bigger. I am the one who stands on the scale in the morning and has to face what is going on with my body. I am the one who was working out for 3 hours a day and NOTHING was coming off (thank you, Seroquel).

But - this morning - prior to stopping at Old Navy (again, I love getting up with some extra time in the morning) to begin replenishing my shorts drawer, I stopped at Goodwill and did not ask for a receipt. The truth be told, they're doing me a favor by taking it all off my hands without it going in a landfill. Someone will give those barely worn shorts and skirts a good home, I'm sure of it.

No receipt, thanks.

Unnatural

2011-05-09T12:03:00.000-07:00

It started out with me walking into the room and seeing another student sitting there taking a test. From there, it was as if my figure skate came untied during a triple axle. I thought we were supposed to be alone in the room. Now there was someone else for me to screw up in front of. So - not to disappoint - that is exactly what I did.

It started out slow. I wasn't on my game but I could at least jog my way to the finish line. It wasn't going to be an A. But maybe a B. Then she asked me one question and I simply could not understand it. I lost track of where I was. And that's when I crossed over from nervous to full-fledged panic. I could not recall how to ask her how to repeat it in Spanish so I blurted it out in English. Even right after she gave me a minute or two lecture on not speaking in English and she told me how to ask me to repeat it in Spanish... out stumbled the English word "repeat". She grew frustrated and so did I. Maybe I could still manage a C. Then the next question came out and I couldn't understand that one either. I was screwed up from having screwed up and speaking in English... then having her correct me. After that... it was just awful. Absolutely awful. I stopped trying to elaborate and was simply caught up on trying to understand her so I didn't have to ask her to repeat again. By the time all nine questions were asked, I was asking her to repeat every question... I couldn't even pick up the first word of the questions anymore... let alone the third or fourth. Yes, I had been given all 27 questions prior to the exam. And, yes, I did go over them as well as the answers I was going to give. I was reading them right up until I walked in to see her. I may not have studied as hard as I could have but, honestly, if I didn't know this stuff by now... what's the point of memorizing? Memorization of a language is not a working knowledge of it. If I'm in a Spanish speaking country... they're mostly likely not going to ask me what time I get home from University. They probably won't give a shit.

Not that knowing that makes up for my utter failure this morning.

She went on to lecture me at the end about how I'm a good Spanish student and how I'm sharp, etc, etc but how I wasn't prepared and that my being nervous doesn't cover the "unnatural" way I messed up. I'm not actually sure what that means at this point. There was nothing more natural in this circumstance than me not being able to pull it together. It's just like someone who's a world champion flubbing up the Olympics. It happens. One mistake can be the downfall, the beginning of the end for anyone who's not completely on their game that day. I barely crawled across the finish line. My answers became shorter and shorter. Frustration reigns supreme and I began crying as she lectured me. I tried only to tell her I could show her in my notebook where I had gone over the questions. The difference being, for me, that I simply could not actually understand the words when someone spoke them. It had been this way for all 15 weeks. Almost every time she called on me in class while speaking Spanish, I struggled to understand her.

I certainly am not going to blame it on her in any way.

One Thing

2011-05-08T15:58:00.000-07:00

If I sorted it out
If I knew all about this one thing
Wouldn’t that be something
- Finger Eleven, One Thing

When you walk into my apartment, there are magazines scattered about staring at you. All sorts of faces - some famous, some not so famous, some are actual pictures, some are drawn. When you walk into my bedroom, there are bookshelves - not as full as I would like but they are there. When you walk to the side of my bed, there is a pile of papers, books, magazines, and everything in between. Directly next to my bed, on the nightstand is another pile. Of books I am currently reading and my journal. At the end of my bed there are clothes scattered on a deacon's bench as well as a small pile of unused journals, which I am sure will be full one day - at least I hope so.

The one thing I feel I am lacking that I need to seriously look into getting is a desk. A real one. I found one at Ikea and just haven't had the chance to go get it yet. Mostly because I haven't actually dedicated myself to it quite yet. Not that buying a desk should truly take dedication. But, apparently, in my case... it should. It's ultimately part of the bigger picture. Part of the dream.

Slowly but surely my dream is actually coming together in one neat, little package. And it's becoming a bit more tangible, a bit more doable, a bit more everything I want it to be. The dream offers variety, which is something I need (or maybe just want), it offers an opening of the mind that little else does, it offers a potential lifestyle that I believe I can manage to live with. It will take some sacrifice, yes. But - anything worth doing will require some sacrifice indeed.

Reading and writing, writing and reading - in my eyes, it doesn't get better than this. What if I knew all about this one thing? Wouldn't that be something? But - what would this one thing be? Literature. What if I knew all about it? Is it possible to dedicate my life to it? Is it possible to at least try? I think it might be. And I am going to do my best to give it a go. Now that espanol is wrapping up tomorrow, it's time for me to step out into the world that I love. Up until now it has been SO many classes that just couldn't keep my interest - almost all of which were lost on me, often because of my youth but now - for me - it's about beginning to really explore what my mind is made of. I am beginning a new journey. One that settles into my bones as if I have finally found my home. The restlessness that once captivated me seems to have fallen away and everything I have been looking for somehow falls into place - calm, cool, collected. I can't see precisely how everything is going to work but I can finally begin to imagine it all in a coherent, attainable sense. The possibilities within the realm of this "one thing" are almost endless - a final resting place for those other dreams that have come and gone.

Any Food Left?

2011-05-05T12:03:00.000-07:00

On my fridge hangs a magnet with a picture of two friends on it. A future bride and groom. The magnet asks me to save the date (or directs me to - depending on how you look at it). For this, I am thankful. I can put it in my phone and make sure that the date really is saved. I am glad that I won't have to worry about working that day or that I won't double book myself. For someone like me - who's overtime schedule is planned out three months in advance - I am grateful. Especially when it's something I am really going to want to do. Such as Spice's party or weddings of those near and dear to my heart. Save the dates (whether by magnet, email or text - or even by phone call) make me happy. They make my life easier. And just that much less stressful.

But - you know what doesn't make me happy? Getting a "save the date" two days before the date I am supposed to be saving. Having received a text just like this yesterday I can't help but go "hmm..." (Queue C+C Music Factory.) Multiple things struck me about this. First and foremost that this text was clearly sent out to other people... most likely prior to when it was sent to me - my guess would be much earlier than when it was sent to me. Being invited as a side note never makes one feel completely wanted wherever one is being invited to. The second thing that struck me was simply that this invite was maybe a courtesy - maybe someone didn't want me to see the party going on and feel bad about not inviting me - since it's going to be next door and all. Still doesn't exactly make you feel wanted. Though at least there is some concern. The third thing that got me was when the "save the date" text asked me to bring money for spending. Yeah... no thanks. I'm not keen on having to show up to a party I am invited to with money (I probably would have anyway - just because that's what most people in America do - we carry around at least some money, when at all possible). The question pops to mind - what are you going to try to sell me? Will I have to sit through a demonstration of some sort? If so, that sucks. I don't consider those parties actual "parties". Not one bit. They're a sales pitch, nothing more, nothing less. Yes, even the sex toy parties. If I want to buy a sex toy, I know where the stores are... and I know how to get online.

And the final thing that popped into my head (besides feeling grateful that I have a date on Friday with someone I am hoping is as awesome as he has been on the phone), was the response I received when I said I might stop by if I happen to be around during party time... that I already had plans... "Do you have a folding table?". Not "ok" or "hope to see you" or anything of this nature. Nope. A request for something. Ahh... motive for inviting me at all comes out. Before being able to ask me for anything... you felt the need to invite me first. Makes sense though the truth is... even if I had a folding table (which I don't), I very well might keep it to myself in this situation. On several occasions this friendship has made me stop and think about it. And on this occasion, I am fine with just letting it go.

I won't call you "slut" or "whore" when we part ways, I won't accuse you of trying to steal my money (unless you actually did steal my money) and I won't live in the shallow end of the pool just because that's what some people do. I don't look a certain way, I don't talk a certain way and I don't bother worrying about trying to be anything in particular any longer. I don't worry about if my friends are "cool" enough to hang out with, I just look for the person inside. If I, for some reason, do not fit into someone's idealized image of who they want to hang with - so be it. Life is too short to worry about it. And the energy I would spend on worrying about it needs to go to other things at this point. Namely, my life.

100%(ish)

2011-05-03T12:02:00.000-07:00

Back in the game. 100%(ish). Getting some sleep, waking up in the morning like a grown-up should. Back to working out. Back to life. Back and grateful for it. Somehow, in the midst of everything falling back into place, I have come to determine that I actually, really do want something a little different than what I have been chasing for quite some time.

NYC was a wake-up call. A good one but a wake-up, nonetheless. And the mental breakdown that came shortly after reminded me how fragile keeping focus actually is (at least for me). I would rather save up for the good stuff than keep accepting the small stuff. I would rather focus on my education than on the negativity of my job. I would rather date (or talk to) one decent guy at a time instead of seeing how many I can meet in hopes that one of them will be the "right" one... even if I know they're not the "right" one from day one - in truth. I would rather stay home most evenings instead of running around like a fool and wearing myself down. I would rather keep my clothing choices simple instead of chasing down what I imagine to be a "perfect" outfit. I would rather just be happy than keep trying to chase happiness down. I'd rather let it roll off my back than be concerned about it. (Unless it really is my own deal to worry about.) I would rather worry about taking care of me and what that means than trying to bend and fit other people's whims. What's more important to me - keeping my job happy or keeping me healthy?

In clarity, as I'm having now, it's so easy for me to see it all. What I want, how I want it and why I want it. And this is why I'm happy with 100%(ish). It may fluctuate a bit each day (with whom doesn't it?) but that's ok. As long as I'm not running on 80% or less... I'm feeling like I can handle it. This whole being alive thing.

80%

2011-04-27T13:20:00.000-07:00

Ok. So, that was a brutal few days. Hasn't been like that in a while. Though, with the famed 20/20 hindsight, it's been coming for quite some time. The meds just weren't working. It's been a good 6 weeks at least, realistically, since they were - at least at any level worth counting. My meds have been switched up and I have also signed up for intermittent medical leave at work. The medical leave will cover me when it's necessary instead of always using sick time. Hopefully I won't have to use it much at all. Hopefully the new stuff will be good for at least a while.

Have to admit, while I'm worn down and could use just a little more rest and relaxation, my mind is quiet again. I was able to drive and sing today on my way to and from school... something that only occurs when I'm feeling right. The new meds will take weeks before they're up to the levels to reach full effect on me. But - at least I'm not feeling drugged or feeling crazed... as the Seroquel sometimes does make me feel. And the slight tingling sensation on top of my head is unique... though I have felt it before and suspect it will have gone away within the next few days.

Back on the horse again, I plan to take it slow for the next few days until I don't have to take it slow anymore. I plan to go home, clean up the mess my apartment has become and make myself a dinner. Yes, people... I plan to cook something. Nothing fancy but it feels like it has been forever since I have felt capable. It hasn't been... just feels that way.

Hopefully tomorrow I can get back just a little bit more. I'm at about 80% today (as I had hoped). Maybe by tomorrow I'll be at 85 or more. I just needed those thoughts to stop... yup... you know the ones. And they have.

I Spy

2011-04-23T17:58:00.000-07:00

As I sat here finishing up the best short story I have read in quite some time ("World Enough And Time" by Linda McCullough Moore from The Sun, March 2011 issue)... good enough to bring me to tears... I am amazed at the clarity of mind that I have. The past week or so has seen me pitch a fit internally. Which leaves me wondering what is going on with me. Is it my medication or could it be something that I have long overlooked? Nothing too serious, mind you, but a noticeable difference that has faded away as of today. The fatigue I have been feeling for the past several days has been wearing on me. Exhaustion. Just plain exhaustion. I left my doctor a voicemail and have something to bring up to her when she calls me back on Tuesday. She's off for the Easter holiday. Possible medication change, possible new diagnosis... at least as I have read about it. For the past several months I've begun to notice a definite pattern with my lady functions as well as the state of my mind. I'll leave it up to the doctor to decide but from the reading I have done I fit the bill for PMDD. Which would explain alot though I'm not sure what can really be done besides being more careful about my diet and exercise. Taking anti-depressants with bipolar disorder can be very dangerous. But, again, I will leave this up to my doctor.

A week ago - I was in NYC, having the time of my life. And while my mind has not been perfectly clear over this past week, I have also not been officially depressed - just really freaking tired and bouts of extremely muddy thinking, short attention span, feeling completely out of control - the whole nine. Still - in what I experienced last week I found a piece of hope that had not been there before. A piece of me that is resigned to being alright with the state of things. A part of me who's not as interested in going out quite as much has suddenly begun to poke through. Not because I have lost interest in it precisely, just because I am somehow seeing things a bit differently. I want to save my money, I want to experience things as I enjoy them. I want to have better days (like last Saturday) instead of nights that leave me feeling cloudy for the next several days. I want to be able to afford to travel as I have always dreamed. And somehow, in experiencing myself so entirely last week, I see it is possible. I just have to pick my priorities and stick to them in order to get what I want out of life. It's time for me to really hit "go".

Last week, while in the Playwright, I spotted something that appeared to me so unbelievably perfect, I could barely believe I had never dreamt of it before. As I came up from the bathroom, there sat a couple in the corner. Both with a beer in front of them, sitting next to one another with little space between - enjoying each other's company so clearly while all the while keeping their respective noses lodged into their respective books. I couldn't have asked for better timing on spotting them - and I wonder still how exactly they found each other. This may not sound like the best thing ever to some people but to me, this appeared fantastic. To be so comfortable with someone as to be able to comfortably sit in silence, in two worlds at once - the couple world as well as the individual world and just relax. To have no need to be talking in order to entertain or find assurance that all is ok but merely to enjoy the simplicity of the other's mind as it whittles away at an experience all one's own. I decided, at that moment, THAT is what I am looking for. Not that I want silence at all times, there are times for talking - without a doubt. And there are times for walking and laughing and joking. But there should also comfortably be those quiet times as well.

"Hey, hon... wanna go down to the bar and read?"

"Sure, babe, sounds good. We could grab lunch while we're there."

"Alright. What are you reading right now anyway?"

And so it ensues. The conversation that takes place on the way before settling into a comfortable seat in the back. Just to mix it up a little, just to get off the couch.

But - who knows - maybe they were reading to avoid one another. Maybe they had a fight the night before that wasn't entirely worked out yet (nor will it ever REALLY be). And maybe this is how they were cooling off.

I doubt it, though. I very seriously and completely doubt it. If for no other reason than the fact that they were holding my dreams in their hands. Funny how once you see what you want in life and you discover it somehow, you begin to see things just a little differently. You begin to see what it really can be, it can be exactly as you ask for it - all the while very different from what you first began.

Perceived By Me

2011-04-22T08:26:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to dinner with the Redhead. We chatted about this, chatted about that while trying a little Afghani food - for me, a definite (and tasty) first. Amongst our talk, I came to realize something that was also pointed out to me during my recent therapy session as well. While neither the Redhead nor my therapist said it quite this way, I am going to say it.

I have to get out of my head when it comes to other people. I have to learn how to just let them go along their merry (or not so merry) old way without internalizing it. I have to learn how to not let them bug me about this, or about that. Things that do not truly concern me. My concern, while at times rooted in an almost parental outlook, needs to be let go of. Simple as that. I may not always agree or always like the road you're on but unless you've asked me for my opinion - I have to just let it go. Live and let live, as they say.

Why do I struggle with this so much? Why do people usually get to the point that they really, truly get under my skin and I no longer want to be around them? Not all people... just some. When it happens it's undeniable and I end up scurrying away from them for one main reason - some side of me, something I very much DO NOT like begins to come out of me and this is something I want to avoid. If hanging out with you depresses me (every time - I am not talking a once in a while basis) - I either need to learn how to shake that depression or not allow it to affect me or I need to just stay away from you. If you are just plain annoying to me, I have to learn how to ignore it. If you do not value the same things as I do on a large scale, I have to learn to accept that (no one will value everything that I do and vice versa, I realize).

But - then - I find myself asking a set of new questions. Why do I feel I have to accept everyone as my friend and keep them in my life? Not everyone has kept me around and that's ok. Do I only turn my back on those who actually do me wrong? Or is it ok to simply shy away from people who bring out the negative in me? Part of me wants to just be able to always accept people as they are and feel all warm and fuzzy toward them anyway but that may be just a little too utopian (at least for where I am in my journey right now). When does the line get drawn between acceptance of people with their (perceived by me) flaws and rejecting people because of their (perceived by me) flaws? Is this ok at all or is it simply morally wrong to reject anyone when they haven't personally done me wrong in some way? Somewhere in the years of me growing up, I appear to have missed something. Most of the people I know seem to have no problem with these sort of things. Or maybe they just don't talk about it or think about it as I do. Everyone I know - especially myself - have things that may be considered a little askew by others. Flaws that are sometimes obvious and other times not so obvious. And while some people are just a little too much for me in some way, shape or form - others are just fine in my book. Despite what I agree with, what I don't, despite some of their choices or non-choices, despite many things, I still love them anyway. Without fail.

So, I guess the main question is this - how does one specifically decide that they do or do not want to spend time with someone? (I am not talking about dating here.) When do we cross the line into being just plain judgemental and when are we just saying "we just don't mesh". My struggle seems to come mostly from trying to fight the "just don't mesh". I wonder what about me feels the need to fight that or to justify it. Guess that's what I have to figure out... why the fight?

Another blog, another time.

Roses in the Rain

2011-04-18T09:31:00.000-07:00

Ahh... I'm feeling rested. Feeling much like someone might after a good vacation (usually). Even if you were active - even if you had a blast and partied it up... the truth is a good enough day or few days can make you feel a sense of hope that sometimes slips away otherwise.

On Saturday I ventured into NYC by myself - for the first time. I was on my own timetable, doing my own thing, exploring as I like to explore - despite the wind and the rain. I headed up in time to make it comfortably to my hair appointment at 1pm. Leaving here around 10am. I made it to Hoboken with no problem and took the Path into the city. I enjoy doing the Hoboken thing because it provides me with the opportunity to come and go as I please. No train or bus to make sure to catch at a specific time. The parking lot in Hoboken is 24 hours so there are no worries there. (Though if it had been warmer, I would have driven around to try and find a free spot... somewhere.) I went the wrong was toward Journal Square on the train at first but turned myself around. Once I was in the city, I hailed a cab with the confidence of someone who's done it a hundred times before.  My hair was done earlier than I figured it would be and I headed out on the street. The rain was just beginning to leak from the sky. I had to find somewhere to buy an umbrella as well as a notebook and paper to write with. I had the entire afternoon free for myself before planning to meet a friend of mine for dinner.

So... I wandered for a bit, staying close to the subway openings that would lead me to where I needed to go for dinner, which lay somewhere on the border of Harlem and Washington Heights. The rain was picking up so I slipped into the Playwright and had myself a beer. I enjoyed an article from a past issue of the New Yorker and then slipped back out into the weather. I wandered a bit more and found another place to stop. For just a short few minutes I found myself sitting at a bar alone - in NYC. I ordered an appetizer and another beer, this time I pulled out my paper and pen. People came in and I finished up, slid into the bathroom and put on some makeup for dinner. Out into the weather I went again. I wandered for a few before finding the growing desire to get back inside. My umbrella had flipped inside and out about 15 times by now.  Once inside the mall I found a bookstore where I bought a recent bestseller. After leaving the bookstore I stumbled upon the find of the trip for me. A Salvador Dali exhibit. Oh, how I wish I had a spare $378,000. But - I don't. After finishing up there, I found another bar - a bit seedier than the rest but I enjoyed most of another article along with one more beer while I waited for go-time to come.

I ventured across town. Downtown, to be exact.  Though, at first, I headed Uptown. Luckily a friendly enough woman on the train confirmed to me that I needed to be going the other way. I did so willingly, without any frustration. I had given myself an hour to find the restaurant.

Once I got to 125th, I got off the train and went out to the street. Ok... this part of NY is not the area I am used to. I had no idea which way to head so I just started walking. The wrong way. Once again, someone who was friendly enough gave me a tip and I headed out the way she said. In that part of town, there are no cabs to grab. Which was unfortunate for me but even more unfortunate for my bladder.  While the wind and rain pushed me down a hill in a light unintentional jog (me laughing all the while) I forgot I had to go. By the time, however, that the hill leveled out... I really had to go. I had a moment like this a little while ago - last summer... maybe. Maybe the one before... but then I was at home. This time, I was in Harlem (or maybe a little into Washington Heights), and I could not find a bathroom. In a moment of tension and fear, I spied an alley where I felt I could slip into. By the time I got to the alley, my bladder had reached a fever pitch.  Yet - much to my chagrin - I discovered that this wasn't an alley - what I was seeing was merely a trick of the eyes and the light. This was merely a corner and a wall. Like a dog I circled as cars passed by. (Which lead me to believe that not all of the people acting strangely in cities are crazy - maybe they just have to GO.) Once I heard silence on the car front, I went for it. The fastest public bathroom break of my life. "Please don't get arrested, please don't get arrested, please don't get arrested," was all I could think.  The good news is, I did not get arrested nor did any cars pass by as I was doing what I needed to do.

After finishing up and feeling a sense of relief that only comes with one thing, I left my corner to discover that the restaurant I was looking for lay right before me. Sigh... in the time I spent circling, I could have made it there.  Oh well... relief was still washing over me (as well as rain), I made my way in and sat at the bar to wait for my friend. I blotted the sweat off my brow and decided what to do if she didn't end up being able to make it. I would simply head back to the station.  She made it - and there were no issues. We had a good meal, we went back to the subway together, making our way back across town. I headed home to the Path with an exhaustion I haven't felt in oh-so-long. The kind that comes with a long, satisfying albeit wet day.

I slept better Saturday night than I have in quite a while.

After all this is said and done, I have to say that I will be doing this again. It may not always be NYC... it may just be in Philly. It may be down the shore... it may be right in my own town... it may be in a new city, in a new way. I'm going to relax, take a moment to breathe and just take it as it comes. And that's what NYC taught me this weekend. I don't have all the time in the world but I do have enough time to enjoy myself. The definition of smelling the roses. I'm going to begin working on this new way of working it. I'm going to be chill about it - stop trying to control it and keep my focus where it needs to be.

Confined

2011-04-15T15:22:00.000-07:00

In the past several weeks I have gone through Numero Uno to Numero Cuatro. Meanwhile, there have been several guys that I have spoken to or text with. And, in the end, I am feeling oh so worn out by the prospects set in place.

No, I don't want to talk about "if we're together long enough, you'll see..." We're not even together yet. Let's find out what we really think of each other first before planning a weekend in September.

No, I don't want to keep setting phone dates. I don't like to plan my life around a phone call. Call me if you're going to call me. If I'm not around at the exact moment you call, I will get back to you. I do not enjoy (it makes me squirm immensely) having to be ready and by the phone at 8:30pm. Just call. If you want to make a date with me, make a date to meet me. If we were in an actual full-blown relationship, there would be a time and place for setting a time to call. (I'd be willing to bend on this one if we were at least crazy about one another and knew it.) If we've never even met in person, I will not plan my life around it. (Not anymore, at least.)

No, I do not want to have an email-only relationship. How long should we write back and forth before meeting? We're both local, dude.

No, I am not thinking about marriage quite yet. You may be but, again, let's see how we get along first.

No, I do not want to hear a long explanation about what happened in your last relationship. A quick synopsis is fine. If you are unable to do it without telling me all about how completely awful she was to you (and getting worked up about it), you're probably not ready to really be back out there yet. Give me a brief explanation for now. "We just wanted different things". Details can come out as we get to know each other.

No, I do not want to date someone without a job who has no intention of getting one. If your parents are asking you to find one then you probably need to find one. And you probably need to stop looking for dates instead.

No, I do not believe that sacrificing everything I want out of life for you makes me the perfect woman. I think it makes me a pushover.

No, I do not particularly want to date someone who's 16 years my senior. (Unless I met you in real life and just couldn't help myself.)

No, I'm not really sure that I can be attracted to someone who doesn't have a life. ALWAYS being available kind of freaks me out... where's your social life? Unless you're new to the area and living alone... I would expect you to have at least a little something going on.

So, after all these things have popped up and shown their faces... I have made a decision. I am taking a step back. A few steps back. Am I keeping my profiles up? Sure. Am I answering everyone that I have been? No. While I haven't been responding to most of the people who hit me up... for nearly every one, for one reason or another, I have stretched myself out without much excitement. Meanwhile, my life has not been staying even keel. I've lost track of me a bit. Not completely but somewhat.

I'm going back to just simply keep trying to be the best me I can be. I have to admit I was having alot more fun when that was my main focus. And, the truth is, that's the kind of guy I need and want too. Someone who's just trying to live the best life they can with what they've got... plan for the future but live for today. And call me when you have a chance, I'll do the same. The fact of the matter is, I am more of a free spirit than what these guys are asking for. Which I make very clear in my profiles. I may not be the most free of the free spirits out there but please don't try to put me in a box from the beginning and figure out if I'm going to be your girlfriend by next week - and then when we can count on settling down after that. Let's just see how it goes.

After 8 Weeks

2011-04-10T19:07:00.000-07:00

In an embarrassing moment at the front gate, I pulled in while feeling something snap inside me. I went into a cloud for a few minutes that left the guard unsure of what to make of me - at least for the moment that I saw him. My movement to show him my badge was irregularly slow and for a moment I was looking right through him, barely seeing him. I couldn't make out what I was doing let alone who he was - a complete sensation of disassociation. The strangest part of that feeling is the inability to think. You know something is happening but you are unable to place it - or even think far enough into it to say "something's happening". For just a couple minutes I remained in that fog and I could barely move. I am not talking a dramatic swing of events where I was just seemingly exhausted - I simply couldn't move correctly. Though for a few minutes after I came back to myself, I was completely exhausted - took at least another 15 for me to fully recover. And I am ready for a good night's sleep tonight. For a split second I thought that was it - a brain hemorrhage and the end of Gem was near. But - no - not the case. I was simply coming out of a depression that has been building for weeks.

At work I have been snapping left and right. I have been a miserable B-I-T-C-H. While some of my anger is very well justified, some of it is not. Some of it is deserved and some of it is not. I have been a mess at home as well. Unable to catch up to where I need to be.

Knowing that I was in a completely mixed state (as I have been for a good chunk of the last several weeks), I looked up my disorder and it's symptoms for the first time in a really long time. And here is what I have been reminded of: (from helpguide.org) - my comments are in bold:

Self-help for bipolar disorder

While dealing with bipolar disorder isn’t always easy, it doesn’t have to run your life. But in order to successfully manage bipolar disorder, you have to make smart choices. Your lifestyle and daily habits have a significant impact on your moods. Read on for ways to help yourself:

Get educated. Learn as much as you can about bipolar disorder. The more you know, the better you’ll be at assisting your own recovery. - no problem, been there, doing that

Keep stress in check. Avoid high-stress situations, maintain a healthy work-life balance, and try relaxation techniques such as meditation, yoga, or deep breathing. - this I have not been doing at all, I'm working alot, trying to keep up with school, feeling the pressure of needing to start looking seriously for new job and coming upon a very bumpy road at work itself, the issues are daily and they keep getting more and more intense, changes, changes, changes

Seek support. It’s important to have people you can turn to for help and encouragement. Try joining a support group or talking to a trusted friend. - I have a hard time with this and I haven't been able to see my therapist for quite a while, mostly because I was trying to avoid mixing up my schedule at work anymore than it already is, I do not like talking to my friends and family about it very often because it's embarrassing, it shouldn't be but it is, maybe it's all in my head but I feel as though most people would rather I just not mention it. I can only control it so much and I am scared that people are going to get so sick and tired of hearing about it that I just don't mention it very often anymore - also - sometimes it doesn't occur to me what is really going on until I'm well into a messy place.

Make healthy choices. Healthy sleeping, eating, and exercising habits can help stabilize your moods. Keeping a regular sleep schedule is particularly important. - nope, nope, nope been failing miserably at this. The sleep has been a problem for a while - partially because my work schedule has been so erratic and partially because I just haven't been taking my medication at the same general time. I can comfortably make a small variation once - maybe twice a week, if I can get a little extra sleep the next day. And once my sleep is off consistently enough, everything else is too - it may not show at first but the trickle begins and leads to a waterfall before I know it. Eating - all I have been eating is a whole bunch of not so good for me stuff. Very few veggies and very few fruits. Now that I will be returning to a consist first shift schedule this week, this should be easier to change - along with getting back to daily exercise. Oh man, I cannot wait to start taking walks outside.

Monitor your moods. Keep track of your symptoms and watch for signs that your moods are swinging out of control so you can stop the problem before it starts. - maybe I should actually consider starting to do this, I never have kept a mood journal.

I will tell you the worst part of having episodes (even if they're not full-on mania)... what have I said... what have I done that I have to swallow and just move on... without feeling embarrassment. While not every moment of the last few weeks has been completely off, I know I've behaved in some ways I am not proud of. Obsessing again, fixating on certain issues that I would normally let slide off my back. Amazing part is that when I take my meds at a decent hour for falling asleep and I wake up at a decent hour... I usually start feeling better within 24. Which is what happened to me today. Sad part about the past two months is how inconsistent my nights and days have been. I might have started to feel better, just to fall back into the trap again. I even almost forgot to take my meds a few times last week. Which was about the first time I had to ask myself what was wrong with me. I take them religiously - how I started to forget about them, I have no idea.

What Others Don't See

2011-04-08T08:39:00.000-07:00

In my life, at times, I have struggled with my faith. In this struggle I have wrestled with my own angel of Jacob. I have tried to force it. (I do believe. I do believe. I DO BELIEVE. Sigh... I still don't truly believe.) I have also given up on it. (I'll come around when You come around. Crap. We're both still here.) I have begged and pleaded and screamed and cried. (Come on, show me You're real. Show me You care. SHOW ME!!!!) And, inevitably, after getting past the exclamation points I begin to see the blessings - whether they are an obvious answer to prayer or not.

Ultimately, through all my attempts I have more often than not ended up on my face, lying in a mud puddle made up of my own dirt and tears. In this mud, which slowly drips down my face as I pick myself back up, I usually end up finding something. Two somethings to be exact. One - my mistakes. Two - the answer to my prayers. Sometimes they are at first hidden in the dirt, just like an earthworm - doing their duty and living their own important lives, whether we notice or not.

Lately, however, I have discovered my faith in one area (yes, after some prayer but not so many tears); within the realm of dating and my love life. (Now if I could just find it in the realm of my job - I would be set.)

What others around my age appear to fear in this realm, I rarely do: ending up alone, no kids, no husband or wife, no future generations carrying on one's DNA. The fact that this may or may not happen simply does not panic me. And why not - especially when it often seems to panic those around me? In my heart of hearts I know - somehow - that I am not going to "miss out" on whatever is meant to be mine.

I have faith in the fact that if it doesn't work out - that's ok. I have faith in the fact that it is not sad to have it not work out. (Not that it never feels sad... it does... emotions are only human.) I have faith that there is someone out there who is "right" for me - I will meet him eventually and he will meet me, when we are supposed to. Apparently - right now - we're busy doing other things. (Unless I end up falling head over heels for Numero Cuatro, of course.) I have faith that this opportunity will not pass me by. I have faith that I will know it when it crosses my path - and he will know it too. I have faith that the dreams I have finally cultivated will not be put aside because his will be more important - they will be equal. (And most likely pointing in similar direction.) I have faith that I am meant to fall in love (again - maybe a few more times) - all I have to do is wait. I have faith not only in the bigger picture but I will feel "it" again; that thing I have felt before - something like flying, something like floating, something like knowing all is right with the world and everyone will be OK. Like a heroin high (or so I have been told), you simply cannot go back to mediocre, if you're going to play around with drugs at all.

Does my faith ever waver? Sure... once in a while (particularly on Thanksgiving and Christmas) but it doesn't usually last for long. As long as I am out there giving it a try... then I am doing all I have to do to "make it happen". There are many things in life that cannot be forced.

Yet, it is in my faith that I often end up feeling a sense of frustration. Not with myself but rather with some of those around me. When I hear someone feel disappointed for me - or in me - I get a sickening feeling in my stomach. When I see the "aww... poor you" look in someone's eyes I get agitated. When I hear "I really want you to meet somebody," I hear "because I know you're terribly lonely," silently follow it up. While I recognize that I am sometimes taking too much to heart and that most of these folks are coming from a good place, wishing for my happiness - what I wish they would realize is that while I every once in a while have moments of loneliness, I am not overall LONELY nor am I unhappy (ok - maybe when I am at work, just a little bit). The truth of the matter is, I AM happy. While I am waiting for my plane, I am not sitting cranky on the concourse... I am in the bar having a well deserved beer and loving it.

That is what faith does for me, after all; it reminds me that I am still young and free. It reminds me that I would rather be single and happy than married and unhappy. I would rather wake up alone than next to someone I secretly despise for not being the person I wasn't willing to wait for. I would rather not have children than raise them with someone who does not share my values, ideals, worldview - and my life. I would rather have the right to explore than feel like a caged animal just because I didn't have the courage to say "I don't".

Faith brings me through my occasional fears and delivers me home again. In my mind, in my heart and in God. To have continued on with ANY of the relationships that have passed me by would have been the opposite of faith - it would have been from a place of darkness - a place that I have, in fact, been before.

Maybe sometimes I should feel a more acute sense of disappointment when dates go bad or just plain fizzle out. But - I rarely do. Even when it was or is - something I thought I wanted. If it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out. At least I know that if and when it is meant to - it simply will.

And, that, my friends, is faith. The substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Heb 11:1)

Numero Tres

2011-04-06T12:40:00.000-07:00

Last week I dated and moved on from Numero Tres. Faster than a blink, yes. Shoot - I didn't even have the chance to mention him on here. But a mini-relationship, sure. Not a real one - just a mini one. One date, yes. Enough texting to make me cringe (yes, physically - in front of mom no less) - absolutely. An ugly ending? Pretty much. This was no polite goodbye. I will momentarily quote our final conversation for you.

We had begun talking at some point toward the end of the week prior. At first - at VERY first - it was fine. Then, not so slowly, the conversation turned sexual. One way sexual. His claim was that he was just trying to see how compatible we were. Really? Maybe I am old fashioned at times but I do think we should probably find out if we have anything else in common first. Just a thought. Then, after meeting in real life and seeing how our chemistry is, we can maybe broach the topic of fucking. This is not a matter of being a prude, it's a matter of simple respect. As a full-grown woman, I am no longer all about just one thing. The fact of the matter is that the most sexually exciting relationships of my life have come from amazing chemistry and attraction - not from discussing the compatibility of our sexuality. (How freaking BORING does that sound?) While it never hurts to discuss, discuss, discuss, sometimes it is best to just let nature take it's course. One way or the other. (Silly, silly boy.) So - I called him on the fact that I would appreciate him trying to get to know me as a whole person and that I simply didn't want to go out with him. His response was that he was just trying to see how compatible we were. My gut was saying "no, no, no" but my mind was hearing him out.

In the end I did choose to ignore my gut and I went out with Numero Tres last Tuesday night.

Oops. A few too many beers in and a pleasant yet not so magical kiss goodnight later, I found myself completely unexcited and uninspired. A fun night, yes... a memorable night, not so much - once the slight hangover wore off. I also began thinking about some of what was said, some of what I heard between the lines and some of how I just simply felt no interest in pursuing this further - especially after hearing THE voicemail. (more on this in a moment)

He, however, was very interested. Very, very interested. He is looking for a relationship. I am looking for someone I really, really enjoy spending time with. I am looking for a relationship as well - but that is almost secondary to finding the "right" person. In this case, he wasn't the right match for me, not even for one date more. We meshed well over a few beers but what happens when we don't drink? At this point, I guess we'll never know.

As for the message...

Prior to us going out on Tuesday night, I had been at work. After work, I stopped by my home to put on some makeup and check the hair. After that, I drove to the bar we were meeting at. When I am at work - most days - my phone is on vibrate. I often forget to turn the vibrate off. As I was driving to the bar, it occured to me that I should probably let him know that I was on my way. By the time this crossed my mind, however, the bar was already in sight so I decided to wait until I was parked to let him know where I physically stood. At ten minutes early, I slid into a spot and promptly pulled the phone out of my purse.

FIVE MISSED CALLS. And one voicemail. Numero Tres had called me FIVE times in a row.

I did not listen to the message but went on to call him instead. His tone was annoyed but he relaxed while I apologized because my phone was on vibrate when he called me. The apology was simply for not thinking ahead or thinking of taking my phone off vibrate. I often specifically try to remember to do this when I have plans with someone, in case they need to get in touch with me. This apology was NOT for missing his calls. We had plans to meet, not call one another.

A few days after our date, while my interest had already waned - I listened to his message to me while clearing out my inbox. If I had heard it prior to meeting him I wouldn't have met him at all. I would have slid right back out of that spot and headed home. Here's the summation of what I would recommend avoiding, based on this one voicemail:

I wouldn't recommend assuming that if someone is standing you up or "dumping" you, that they would give even the slightest care in the world as to whether or not you may be wasting gas.

I wouldn't recommend getting angry because your date has not picked up the phone prior to the date - at the exact moment you called - anything could be happening. If you're meeting at 9 o'clock - 9:05 is when you start feeling some sort of way - depending on your personality and thought process, of course. Not at 8:50 or before.

His tone was what got me most and I began to really feel my "uh-oh" alert go off from somewhere deep inside. A few days after I listened to the message we were still texting and had a date set up for Sunday night. I no longer had any desire to bother with it so I had become a complete minimalist in my responses. I secretly hoped he would get it but he didn't - instead he was crazy excited about our second date.

I confided in my Dear Friend about him - slowly letting things leak here and there... periodic as it was... and in her quiet way she simply stated that he did not sound right for me. She was right. I knew, she knew... my mom even knew it. I was finding myself pushing toward a second date merely to get past my one date hump... ending it before giving it a real chance. I finally came to the conclusion that I should let him know before continuing to waste time/effort/money. And I decided text was fine... after only one date and also because I could smell the drama in the air.

Here's how it went down: (in the order the messages were received/sent on my phone - spelling and punctuation is accurate except in the case of "you")

NT - Numero Tres
Gem - me

Gem: Hi Numero Tres - I need to be honest, this isn't going to work for me. I don't want to lead you on or waste your time so I feel I should let you know now. Good luck out there and I hope you find what you are looking for.

NT: What did I do now

NT: Like what is with you, you say everything is good then this

Gem: You didn't do anything specifically. I just had time to think about it and we're not a match.

Gem: No need to say something is with me. If I'm not feeling it, I'm not feeling it. I am sorry. I wish you the best.

NT: Yea you right don't waste my time. You could have at least have the nerve to call. I have delt with enough crazy people. Don't need another one all you Do is flip flop

NT: It's cool don't waste your time. And I won't waste anymore of mine on you. You'll never hear from me again hope you find your "match" on -----. Bye

(----- is the name of the dating website we met through)

Gem: (silence...)

I decided to just let him have a go at it. Let it out. That's right... prove it to me that my decision was the right one. Yeah... that's it... prove it.

Thank you.

And now onto Numero Cuatro... who appears so far to be someone kind of special.

The Practice

2011-03-27T15:28:00.000-07:00

My job is just to offer the practice. Everyone takes it or leaves it as they prefer.
- Krishna Das

I read this quote in an interview with Krishna Das. He's the "rockstar" of yoga - well - the chant behind yoga, I should say. He is referring to the practice of chanting. If you have at least read Eat, Pray, Love (the movie didn't cover it much) you will have an idea behind what chanting is in Hindu spirituality. It is another way to connect to God, like prayer or meditation. It's a form of meditation in many ways. Many of the chants that are done relate to repeating of God's name in it's many forms. While I don't chant in this way, I do have my own practices that I offer out to the world and people can take them or leave them as they wish.

Few of them have to do with prayers specifically, though often prayer certainly comes into play, at least in my downtime. Mass cards would be one "practice" that I do actually offer out to the world on a fairly regular occasion. Otherwise, the practice that I offer outward is no more than a sharing of myself with others.

I do this in two ways in particular... everything else, for me, falls into the category of these two. Writing would be one, the sharing of love, caring and knowledge would be another in the form of familial, romantic or friendship. Writing is an obvious one - you are reading it right now. This is me expressing myself and people will take from it what they do - I can force neither my viewpoint or my thoughts on anyone who does not want to absorb them. This goes for my blog but it goes for my fiction and poetry as well. I enjoy putting it out there and hopefully my words will find their audience but that's up to the audience (and fate to a degree).

As for caring for loved ones. Sometimes this means opening my arms, sometimes my home, sometimes my ears, sometimes my mouth, sometimes my wallet, sometimes my mind, sometimes my time, sometimes it's my knowledge or my laughter they need or want, sometimes it's all of me, sometimes it's just a piece of me. I try to share as much as I can with as many as I can without burning myself out because then it becomes useless. The labor of love shouldn't make anyone feel like they're doing hard labor in a chain gang.

So, this is the practice that I offer (and many of you do as well). The practice of being me. People can take it or leave it as they prefer - I am just happy to have it to give.

Going Out in SJ

2011-03-26T15:06:00.000-07:00

So I have got this issue. I live in South Jersey but I don't really enjoy going out in South Jersey. I do enjoy the few times yearly when I go out to eat here for, say, South Jersey Restaurant Week... Farm to Fork week... and a couple other few and far between events. Not too often though - because as a single woman - going out after dinner for a drink or two can lead to the same old vibe, at the same old place, with the same old people, in the same old way.

Last night a couple girlfriends and I went out to dinner at an Italian restaurant (which happens to have one of the hottest men I have ever seen in this area working there - so I will be going there again) for South Jersey Restaurant Week. We did the usual, we ate and chatted and laughed a bit - we commented on the food, the decor, the man, what's going on in our lives and we got to know each other just a little bit better. Then one of us went home, feeling tired and ready for bed - while the other two of us were feeling like going out for a few drinks. She's on the border of becoming single again (it's looking like, at least) and I am single.

I was particularly dressed up last night. Wearing an outfit that I was into and feeling pretty confident about and a pair of shoes which make me feel warm and fuzzy all over, I was ready for a night OUT. What I found however, was a night OUT in South Jersey. Oh... yeah... I forgot this is why I don't do this very often. While it's fun to experience the strangeness of running into people you haven't seen in years, ignorant men who actually attempt to unbutton your shirt for you (leading to a quick slap of their hand and a "what the hell do you think you are doing?" from me), language that should only be used with the buddies (at least until you know the girl alot better), being invited back to your place to play beer pong with your girlfriend and yourself (no I am not afraid of being bad at it, I just don't play beer pong anymore... nor do I want to walk into a strange couple's house to play the game - for goodness sake - I'm 31) and ladies - we are not staring at you, we're watching the band directly behind you - get over yourselves for a minute, please. It's not that everyone here in SJ is exactly the same... the problem is the vibe is usually the same. And that vibe is the one that chases me away from most bars, most of the time, particularly in the area where I live. Not too long ago (while snow was on the ground) Spice and I went driving around in my area, trying to figure out where we could go for drinks. There were a few parking lots that we drove into and out of... none of which I could settle on for us to stay at. We ended up having a beer at my place then I drove her home. One reason was simple - I was trying to avoid bumping into people I used to know because I just simply do not usually enjoy seeing them. The other was just because nothing felt right or like somewhere I wanted to bother with.

Last night the Redhead and I did end up being happy and having fun - regardless of the weirdness that went on around us. However - this is an experience that I really do have to keep to seldom, at best. I often escape to the city that I live closest to, Philadelphia. And now a big part of me is really beginning to understand why. It's not that I hate the area in which I live, it's just that I don't like the area in which I live. I only live there because that's where my job is and where my education is being sought. I think it's only a mild experiment for me though... I think it might really be time for me to move on as soon as my first degree is had.

Maybe it's the same everywhere but somehow I do NOT believe that. Mostly because I have been other places. It might just be time for me to really figure out where I truly belong because somehow - someway I am becoming more and more positive by the day that my life is not meant to be lived exactly where I am. There's something else calling to me, something else asking me to come hither. I have always wanted it and I really feel it's almost time for me to get it. I just have to figure out my game plan. Could be bigger and better than I realize or it could simply fizzle out and die. We'll see, my friends... we'll see.

Their World

2011-03-25T14:43:00.000-07:00

In the past couple months I have returned to the realm of dating (as most of you already know). Earlier this week I ended it with the first person that has made it beyond one date in quite some time. And while it didn't work out for multiple reasons, one thing that clicked in my head yesterday afternoon was where my own fault lay in the situation.

Now... some of this comes from the mere fact that I wasn't exactly into him the way I would have liked to be and another part of it boils down to the fact that he wasn't exactly experienced in the dating world. So... I felt I had to think up all the places we would go on our dates. The truth is, I did not even give him a chance to come up with an idea or two.  He didn't complain about this or even mention it until the night before I broke it off with him (or made my sorry first attempt at doing so and FAILED - however you want to look at it) so it didn't occur to me to ask him otherwise.

Of course - the fact of the matter is I am an oftentimes busy woman. As one guy I never did actually date a while back but did speak to on the phone said "busy, busy, busy girl - busy, busy, busy". (He was complaining to me that I hadn't returned his call soon enough.) So - sometimes in order to be able to spend time together, I do feel the need to invite him (whomever him is at that given moment) to go to things with me. Such as, Spice's birthday celebration. There usually aren't too many complaints from the gentlemen I have done this with and I always let them know the entire deal before we go out with my friends - I also don't abandon them to their own devices in these situations - except, maybe, that ONE time. I do my best to host them and try to make them as comfortable as possible.

But - maybe, just maybe I should allow for a particular change in this particular part of my dating life. Maybe I should not be so sure what I want to do on any given night so that I can invite them to come up with some ideas.  Ask them what they would like to do so they can show me a little more of themselves and I can see how I feel about being involved with what they enjoy. While this hasn't always been a huge problem for me or anything it is looking like I may need to be a little more "open" about certain things. Welcoming people into my world has never been the problem, it's wanting to see theirs that I feel I may be lacking.

Could this have a correlation to the fact that I never meet men when I am out? Maybe there's something to it. Maybe it's ultimately all the same issue.  Maybe I am still more afraid of them than I realized and maybe it's time to change this once and for all.

That Body

2011-03-22T14:51:00.000-07:00

Let that be a lesson to me (and you). If you've been dating someone for a short time and you find yourself questioning whether you want to continue with it... and you begin to drive yourself and possibly your friends crazy with all your questioning... let me break it to you...

You do not like them enough to drag either of you through sticking with them.

When you mesh with someone, you mesh. When you like someone you like them, you don't run around questioning it and asking everyone's advice hoping for someone to give you just the right advice to make you feel all better. That advice is probably not going to come.

He has a good heart but my very first thought this morning was loud and clear. "If you asked his brother, you'd probably get a very different story." Sounds weird, right? As if that should be the deciding factor... what his brother has to say? Someone I have never met?

In this case, apparently, it was. It wasn't specifically what his brother had to say... it was what he wasn't saying. It was that martyr undertone that accompanied much of what he said about his family. That, for me, was the deciding factor.

I struggled with it though - the thought of hurting him hurt me. Not that a two week relationship is going to destroy anyone but letting someone down is the tough part. It always is. And I am not the kind of girl to just ignore someone until they go away. That kind of behavior is not only childish but completely unnecessary.

I found myself slipping in the last two weeks. Back into smoking heavily, back into not writing, back into not reading, back into not working out as consistently. I found myself slipping. And these were not good things. Indicators that something on my end was wrong. The best version of myself? Absolutely not.

I guess it's time to find Numero Tres. Numero Dos had some positives to him... just not the right positives for me. Except that body... good God, what a body.

The Golden Questions

2011-03-21T16:23:00.000-07:00

Who do I become when I am with him or her? Am I closer to who I want to be when I am with them or am I further away? Do they bring out the good a majority of the time or do they bring out the bad?

In all relationships - familial, romantic, friendships, acquaintances, co-workers, even in the "enemy" realm - there are specific dynamics constantly at work. Dynamics of how others rub off on you, what they bring out of you and vice versa. We don't always think about these things but often, when we find ourselves immersed in the company of others we may feel this way or that, positive or negative, light or dark, at peace or in torment. And after the immersion has taken place and we head out into the world elsewhere, things may itch at our brains a bit - we may begin to wonder what that thought or feeling is/was about. We may be able to pinpoint it, we may not be. We may feel good, we may feel bad - we may feel a little bit of both.

However you choose to slice it (or it chooses to slice you), the truth is it never hurts to ask yourself the questions that I mentioned at the beginning of this post. This will help you discover if the relationship you question is right for you or wrong for you. If it is right for the other person or wrong for the other person. They are not always easy questions to be honest about. Sometimes they are not answers that anyone wants to hear. It will not always be a matter of getting rid of the relationship, sometimes it's a matter of tweaking. Sometimes it's a matter of allowing for or purposely allowing it to grow, both apart or closer together.

In the course of many of my relationships, as of late... I have been asking myself these questions. I would like most of my relationships to stay status quo. A couple are hanging in the balance of "distance needed". One or two need a little more of my investment and some are on the edge of "over". Some, however, are really in an "I don't know" kind of place. The pros and cons list needs to be written still. The balance of what is right and what is wrong both with me and with the relationship. There is no controlling other people and how they feel (at least not in a good way - manipulation is bad and often not possible at all) so in many ways, it's also not completely worth using in your judgement of a situation or the health of a relationship. In close relationships there is often the need to think of the other's feelings (and discuss the factors involved in maintaining the relationship) - just for the mere fact of being considerate of the "other" but you cannot always allow that to control the outcome. For better or worse, you may need to walk away in order to be fair to both of you.

Relationships of all sorts can be tough. Treating others as you wish to be treated can often get sticky during decision-making time. As I have stated time and time again about someone I used to hang out with... "I couldn't stay friends with her because she drove me crazy most of the time and I found myself talking behind her back. I don't want to be that kind of friend and she doesn't deserve that kind of treatment." It's not always easy but often the truth is easier than what we initially perceive. While you cannot necessarily allow their feelings to be the controlling factor, the best thing for everyone usually works out to benefit both you and them. As a person with at least some sort of moral maturity, discovering this in between is not only a necessity to a well-lived life but also a necessity to being what many would label "a good person". You may never be perfect but trying is more than half the battle.

Without the Worry

2011-03-17T08:59:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, I wrote up "A Little Nugget". And you may recall, if you can recall ALL THE WAY back to the last post, that I said (or Tina Fey said) "you can't worry about it".

I promptly followed that up in my own life with a world full of worry. Which promptly led to a freak-out and minor league breakdown. The mini breakdown was nothing to write home about. I just wasn't functioning, which may be because I just wasn't sleeping right or well. A small conglomerate of issues have cropped up and now I have to take a few steps back - not only in the dating world but in the work world as well.

I'm feeling stressed and I have lost focus. Which is NO good.

As some of you know, I am still seeing Numero Dos. I am not looking to see anyone else at this point (nor am I keeping my options open) but I have to admit, I am not sure where this is headed. I am not sure how I am feeling. Excitement has turned to reality and reality reveals to me that I am not feeling ready to jump too far ahead with this relationship. I am not ready to settle down and I am not ready to have to worry about a relationship in which settling down is the main event anytime soon. Which is not to say I do not want to date (or that I am ruling out the possibility of being swept off my feet and changing my mind) or spend my time with people in order to get to know them and myself better.

At 31 years old I am doing what many women were doing at 22. I've done the serious and now I'm trying to do the fun. Maybe it's a little backward (in most people's minds) but the truth is, I'm good with that. So, if I am having fun - the logical question is... why the stress? Ideally, fun does not equal stress.

Recently (don't recall exactly what post it was in) I mentioned that I was ready and looking for "the one", that I did not want to waste time, etc on the wrong people. However - I now wish to revise that line of thinking since the original line of thinking is what set the worry in.

I am not looking for booty calls, I am not looking for insignificant flings (unless it's a vacation fling - those are fine and fun), I am not looking specifically for a husband. What I am looking for is significant connection with the possibility of it being "the big one" without the pressure of trying to get someone (whether me or him) to walk down that aisle. I am looking to explore options and see what's out there. For real this time - not while I'm drunk, not while I'm hurting but while I am just plain me.  I do feel pressure from some of the people around me - not all - to find someone because, after all, I am getting older and my pro-creating years are slowly slipping by. And how pathetic it is for a woman such as me to be ALONE (note:sarcasm). Do I wish to be all alone, all the time - no. I just cannot justify settling for the wrong guy. I just can't stomach the idea of settling for someone just so we can make babies and then dislike looking at one another once they're grown.

Who knows... maybe Numero Dos will become Numero Uno. But maybe not. And that's ok too.  I promise - I won't lead anyone on, if he's ready to jump and I am not, I will know it's time to go. Or if I get to the point where I just don't want to spend time with him, I will know it's time to go. (Or vice versa - hey - one never knows.)

Here's to the new plan! Without the worry...

A Little Nugget

2011-03-13T17:28:00.000-07:00

"Yes, you're going to write some sketches that you love and are proud of forever - your golden nuggets. But you're also going to write some real shit nuggets. You can't worry about it. As long as you know the difference, you can go back to panning for gold on Monday."
- Tina Fey

My overall love life thus far has been more often than not, made up of shit nuggets with only a few sparkles of golden here and there. And while I am not going to claim that it entirely depresses me (hey - I'm a writer, I tend to draw from the good AND the bad, after the hurt finally fades away), I am going to claim that it is a boatload more fun when the sunlight reflects off the shiny nuggets and the reflection hits my eyes.

While I could use Ms. Fey's quote here for writing in and of itself, I'm going to use it for dating instead. Because as we look a little closer at it, we will be able to see how it can easily relate to both.

"Yes, you're going to write some sketches that you love and are proud of forever - your golden nuggets."

Yes, you're going to have some experiences with men or women that you love and are proud of forever - your golden nuggets. Even if it doesn't end in happily ever after. Whether it be a trip you took, a time when you helped them (or they helped you), something funny that happened or just a plain ol' good memory, there are the positives. Maybe you helped them to open their minds a bit, maybe they helped you open yours. Maybe you helped them financially in some way without asking for a return on the money (even after you split), maybe they sat with you in a time of grief. Maybe you said or did something embarrassing and the two of you just laughed privately without letting the world in on the joke. Maybe you both discovered a new food together - something you still carry with you, even after the relationship is long gone. All of these things make you into who you are ultimately, little by little, nugget by nugget. And who you are is an amazing person - with or without someone on your hip.

"But you're also going to write some real shit nuggets."

Yes, you're also going to have some real shit nugget memories too when it comes to the men and women that we choose (or happen) to date/marry/love. Some of these memories will fall into place as a person in their entirety. Some of these memories will surround mere circumstances. Some of these memories will be the awkward, desperate, pathetic and otherwise unsavory comments, conversations and/or moments of realization that all of us have from time to time in our romantic endeavors, whether you are in it for the long haul or the short haul. Whether you are married for 50 years or the date only lasts 15 minutes because you just can't sit with someone who smells THAT bad. Or it could even possibly be a romance in your head, that never develops into anything more than a crush. Sometimes it will be them, sometimes it will be you. In all actuality, it's often a combination both - you and him or you and her. Not always but often.

"You can't worry about it."

No, you can't. You simply can't. You will, but you shouldn't. While this statement is really simplistic... it is also very pointed. Worrying does nothing to help anyone. If it is going bad... end it (or seek outside help - if it's a relationship that is worth salvaging, like, say, a marriage - or a long-term partnership). If it's going good, roll with it. If you're not sure, try to figure out what is making you unsure. Is it them? Is it you? Have you just not given it enough of a chance? Have you given it too much of a chance? Whatever you do, however, don't lose sleep over it. There is a certain sense of "what will be, will be" that would be very useful to ingest and incorporate into our romantic lives.

"As long as you know the difference, you can go back to panning for gold on Monday."

Whether you worry or not, whether you enjoy them or not, whether they worry or not, whether they enjoy you or not... the main thing is... learning to spot the difference between the gold and the shit. Or the gold covered shit... or even the shit covered gold. The good stuff and the bad stuff. The negative or unhealthy relationship that's ignored by way of replacement (sex instead of intimacy, excuse making, enabling out of "love", putting on a face to the rest of the world while you haven't spoken at home in months, the list could go on and on and on) would be gold covered shit. The shit covered gold would be when there are solvable, fixable problems that are currently getting in the way. These problems come to all of us at one time or another but ideally - if it's a relationship that is gold underneath, you work through them. So, whether you end it, you keep it or you decide to try it out for a little while longer - there is always the opportunity to pan for gold, as long as you know what emotional gold looks like - it becomes much easier to find.

Getting It Done

2011-03-09T12:58:00.000-08:00

A man desires praise that he may be reassured, that he may be quit of his doubting of himself

- Alec Waugh

What is a small round of applause worth? I guess it would depend on the reason for it. If it's to make fun (say... if you trip and fall - and someone teases you with a "good job!"), it may not be worth much. If it's for something you've accomplished, it can be worth a whole bunch more... for instance... if you have just received your degree and your family members start it up from somewhere in the crowd. If it's for winning the Nobel Prize... well... I can't honestly imagine what that would feel like but I can picture it meaning the world to some people.

What if it's on a random Wednesday afternoon - when a small group of people discover your secret? What if it happens to be on a day when you're feeling worn down, burnt out and unsure about some of the directions your path could take? What if it's at a moment when you're sitting back in your seat hoping she won't call on you. Not because you don't have the answers to her questions... but because you don't have the energy. Because you are one hour away from a much needed spring break?

This morning, I received an impromptu round of applause from my class. Not because I said something amazing in Spanish. Not because I wowed everyone with my intellect. But - rather - because I am apparently doing something that even Numero Dos referred to as "hardcore". And, no, I didn't win a Woody.

I'm going to class during my lunch break. I hadn't thought of it as anything but what needs to be done. I simply hadn't gone there in my thoughts as to what it means or if I'm pushing it beyond the usual limits. When the clapping went on, I felt myself blushing and then I said "thank you" in an awkward sort of way. I felt silly. But - I also felt pleased. A smile crept onto my face periodically through the rest of the class.

After leaving class, I found myself thinking about what had occurred. It was honestly just what I needed at that exact moment. I needed the encouragement regardless of the fact that it made me feel silly. My life, as of late, has been very much about what I have to do to get it done. And I was beginning to slip into wondering if it was worth it at all.

Numero Dos

2011-03-07T13:59:00.000-08:00

Date two. Well... what can I say?

He's attractive (fantastic face with the cutest dimple, awesome hair, tats, tall and fit), he's sweet and we had a nice time. We will be seeing each other again. We have both expressed mutual interest.

Personally, I am just happy to have found someone I want to go out with twice. This has become a bit more of a rarity than one might expect. So - we'll see how it goes.

The Lack of Umph

2011-03-05T15:51:00.000-08:00

I broke my fast last night. Not in a hardcore gettin' drunk kind of way but merely in an after dinner drink at one bar (Tootsie Roll - yum) and then two more beers at another place.  Lots of walking around, water drinking and some Diet Coke drinking in between. The second beer was left with some in the glass as we exited the establishment at closing time. I was a little chill but that was it. And, for me, that was enough. I still got up this morning and took care of what I needed to do.  My dad and I went to pick up my new workout equipment and I put together the stationary bike. My lil home gym is coming together nicely.

So... let's get to the date. Shall we?

He is a good guy. Polite, generous, a good heart. I honestly cannot say anything bad about him.  However - I won't be seeing him again. I do wish we could be friends but I don't like to do that anymore. Friends with guys (for me, at least) turns into mess more often than not... if they're not attached already.  Not every time... but with a certain regularity. And therein lies the problem. The reason I will not be seeing him again.

It's not that he's not a good catch. He's just not a good catch for me. When we kissed goodnight - ignoring the fact that it was awkwardly put together - there was no "umph". I need some "umph". Some "that-kiss-makes-me-want-to-see-you-again" brand of "umph". Truth be told, I had hoped something would click during the course of the night. Dinner was fun (even with the lighting issues) and I enjoyed our time strolling around - stopping here, stopping there. Exploring a bit. Talking, getting to know one another... the whole bit. The only problem was... I just felt nothing. Nothing at all - besides that unmistakable feeling of what I will now refer to as "the lack of umph". Some would say (including me) a lack of chemistry.

Maybe I am too damn picky. My dad was more disappointed than I about it not working out when I told him this morning. He said "maybe it would grow in time". And maybe he's right. Maybe I should keep it up for the sake of letting it develop over the long haul. Maybe I am just too quick to bring down the axe. Maybe.

Or - maybe not.

Maybe I have felt what I am looking for before.  Several times. Not just once, not twice but a few times.  And not too often either - which is how I know it when I feel it. It's a rarity but it's worth the wait. Maybe it's not a matter of specifically being picky. I don't have too terribly many requirements. Though I have some - I am still pretty flexible in many ways. The thing is - I am on the hunt. I am not about time wasting anymore. I am about finding "the" guy. Or - if necessary - the "guys" whom I may first mistake for "the" guy. That's fine with me too. I've made the oopsie before and I may make it again.

"Sorry about that, thought you were somebody else."
"You've known me for a while - who did you think I was?"
"Somebody from the future apparently, not the present."
"That's weird."
"Won't be when the future becomes the present."
"You are a strange one..."
"Not strange... just mistaken."

He's out there somewhere (hopefully) - maybe somewhere nearby - maybe somewhere far away. I just know that wherever he is... he's going to have the "umph" that I apparently require.

Two Dates

2011-03-04T12:48:00.000-08:00

Two dates. Two dates this weekend with two different guys. One tonight, one on Sunday night. As Biff said, "play on, playah". Hahaha, a "playah", I am not. A woman who's been waiting to go on a date for a long time - I am. Both opportunities came up so I am taking them. Truth be told, I am leaning in one direction with a definite slant but I figure it'd be good to give the chemistry a go with both of them.

Unless, of course, the chemistry kills it tonight. Then I might just have to do the right thing.

Goodness - it feels good to be talking about a love life again.

Two dates.

Four Weeks Later

2011-02-28T16:31:00.000-08:00

It's been four weeks since I have had any alcohol to drink. No wine, no beer, no mixed drinks, no shots. And while I am more content and level-headed than I have been in years (since I don't even know when... with the stomach incident, it was forced so level-headed wasn't precisely what I was feeling).

The thing is... this level-headedness, this calm, this ability to enjoy myself in a way that I do not recall having done in a very, very long time is making me nervous. Should it? Probably not. But - regardless of the shoulds or shouldn'ts, it is. Why would it make me nervous? That's a damn good question. And one that I am having some trouble answering for myself.

My life is taking some adjustment right now. That's all. I'm seeing things for what they are... I believe I am starting to see some people for who they are (or aren't) and I am feeling more confident in my own abilities and decision making. My own choices. My mouth is staying shut sometimes when I think it's best... and it's opening up a bit more when it probably should.

The strangest part to me... the part that is shaking me up the most... is what I am noticing. What I am noticing about others and what I think I am starting to notice. The questions that are coming to mind and the notice I am taking to what others say/how they say it/what they mean. And I am making my determinations (for once) based on clear thought.

For the first time in a long time life is looking better, I am looking better and I am feeling better - more confident. All of the knowledge, experience and so forth that I had gained over the last few (many) years is finally being applied without my trying to apply it. Life is wide open. I am wide open. I am able to function unlike I could before and I can make plans that based on that fact.

This is exciting. Nerve-wracking but exciting. But - how or what would be exciting about it if nerves didn't come in to play at least a little bit?

El Diamante

2011-02-25T07:55:00.000-08:00

Y todo, como el diamante,
Antes que luz es carbón.
- Jose Marti, from Simple Verses

At the ripe, old (or young - depende on who is reading) age of 31... I could easily call myself a failure. I could easily look down on myself for not having a degree yet, for not having children yet, for not having a husband, for not having a house, for not keeping up with the Joneses.

But - I won't. Not this time.

Nope. Today I will count the advantages to these facts instead of comparing my race to others.

If I had my degree, I would never be able to enjoy my education as much as I am enjoying it now. When I started college (oh so many years ago), I was running through the motions. While not every young student does this - based on the majority of what I see in my class - most of the students do this. Through no fault of their own, they don't know better yet. And many never will. School has been life to them. Almost the entire sum of it. How could they NOT take it for granted? It's like breathing and air to them. Most of them have been in a somewhat structured, teacher infused environment from the time their memories began. But - at the age of 31, maturity reveals so much about what the true intention of education is. For me, at the age of 31, my eyes are already open to so much - I can get only that much more out of my classes.

If I had children already, everything would be different. And while I do see children as a gigantic blessing in this lifetime - if they come into your life at the wrong time ("wrong" being relative), two things can POSSIBLY happen. One, they may not feel like as much of a blessing as they actually are. Two, you may not be able to be the kind of blessing to them that they so rightfully deserve. Based, of course, on the basic tenet that we are all equal - and equally deserving.

If I had a husband, well... I'll put this in a different context. What I had in the past was not a husband for all legal purposes (at least not in NJ). The emotional/mental side, however, was very much marriage-like. That relationship - while it was going on - was IT. Til death do us part. We honestly (until he changed his mind, of course - which can just as easily happen in marriage as well) did not even bother to think for many, many years of the alternative. We were building a life together - this was something on which we did both agree, at least for a long while. Simple as that. But - it did not work out over the long haul. Painful, yes. (While the schism was forming.) Awful, yes.  Life changing, absolutely.  Person changing (I can only speak for myself here), totally. In all these years after the fact, I can honestly say - without a doubt - that the biggest emtion I feel toward not only having had the relationship (even though, yes, it wasn't a healthy relationship) but also for the fact that we did not actually walk down the aisle - is gratitude. Gratitude for the fact that at the age of 31, at a time when I finally have come to know myself (in many ways though I am sure there is much left to discover), I get to make my decisions for me - and me alone. Well - me and Fred - but my cat will go along with whatever as long as he gets the chance to run around like a wildman once all the lights have gone out for the night.

If I had a house of my own, there would not only be the monetary strain that I do not think I want to necessarily shoulder at this time in my life but there would also be yardwork to do, things to fix and - quite simply - a whole bunch of stuff I simply do not wish to worry about yet. Without the kids or the husband, I have little interest in this. (Though this very well may change in time - when I am ready or want to spend the money.)

I am not a keeping up with Joneses type of person. My TV is old, my computer is borrowed (thanks again, Texan), my desk is tiny and my dresser is the same one I had as a baby. My phone is a flip phone. The fact of the matter is I do want to get some new stuff soon. However - is it because I just want new stuff? No. It's because functionally, I need to replace much of it. The TV has been showing a couple small glitches lately. The computer one day needs to be given back and the dresser just does not offer me enough space for all my clothing needs. The desk - well - I need to be able to spread out just a bit more. While this is not a judgment on anyone who just likes to buy newer, nicer stuff because they want to - I am happy with myself the way I am. I would rather spend my money on experiencing. This is just my own personal choice - at the age of 31.

My father mentioned to me some time ago that I was lucky. (I wasn't feeling so lucky at the time.) I could make my life exactly what I want it to be while in my current situation. Granted, when he said it I had yet to reach the point I am at today but the man is right. It took time and it took pressure... but this girl, who was once called "a diamond in the rough" (by the psychologists sent to my parents' house by the school when I was a child because my grades were so crazy) is finalmente finding her way out of the rough.

You Never Know

2011-02-23T06:24:00.000-08:00

Last night I sent out a general concensus text to my friends. What do you think I should do? It wasn't about anything terribly serious but I still remained undecided. The issue is this...

Online dating - do I renew a recent subscription or do I let it fall by the wayside? It has not been my most successful escapade into the world of dating... it has very easily, in fact, been my least successful. Until this last week or so. Suddenly, online dating is starting to look up again. Suddenly I am communicating with a few different guys - all attractive to me (or I guess I wouldn't be communicating with them at all) - at least by the look of their pictures.

By looking at the variety of the pictures I can once again confirm for myself that I have no specific type... I like variety in all things it seems.

The fact of the matter is, however, that with my subscription running out... suddenly they're throwing me a whole new, rather large amount of matches. Am I falling for a simple ploy to get me to stay on?

Yes, yes I am. Besides money - what do I have to lose? (As my beloved pointed out.) And while I hate losing money - what I hate even more is losing out on experience (or the posssibilty of it). So - my choice, my option is simple. I'm sticking with it. I may or may not end up regretting it but somehow I doubt I'll regret it that much. So much so that once I get a couple new pics - assuming I haven't met anyone worth sticking with for longer than a minute... I think I am going to be joining Match again too - and I'll change my pics on both sites. Mine as well open all the doors I like while I am at it.

Feeling good these days, folks, so I'm ready to get back out into the world again - full force.

Anew

2011-02-18T11:37:00.000-08:00

Over the course of the last several nights, I have been having very intense, very vivid, very symbolic dreams. After looking up the themes or symbolism in these dreams... this is what I have come up with:

I am having troubling presenting myself to the world as I would like to.

Something new is starting in my life.

And some major changes are occurring.

Let me tell you...

True. True. And true.

I can't wait for you to meet the new me.

Locus of Control

2011-02-16T10:48:00.000-08:00

"No, I'm not lucky, I'm blessed, yes"
- Nikki Minaj feat Drake, Moment 4 Life

One's locus of control is defined as "an individual's view of determinants of events". (According to a random webpage with no name). The definition in my personal training book is a bit longer so the prior definition is being used for the mere brevity of it.  From the overall - we can break the locus of control down into two more categories. Intrinsic and extrinsic. Reading about these, I had determined that I lean toward the intrinsic side of the road. So - I took a quiz on it. I was right (at least according to this one, particular test). However - I have to admit, some of the answers I gave did end up completely extrinsic. Not EVERYTHING happens to us because of us only.  There are some things that are placed on us without any effort, mistake, lack of wisdom or oversight on our part.  Genetics, for one, unavoidable accidents, for another, another's thoughtless and/or evil motives coming into your world without provocation (you get mugged or worse), etc.

"An individual's view of determinants of events"... what exactly does this mean all by itself? Simply put, does life happen to you... or do you happen to life?

The "does life happen to you" would fall into the extrinsic category. The "do you happen to life" would fall into the intrinsic category.  Is everything in your world a result of happenstance or is everything in your world a result of what you have done, said and been - without the direct help of let's call it... luck?

If you are like me, you believe in a little bit of both though your leanings do fall more often than not, into the intrinsic category. Why not fully intrinsic? Simply put, because I believe in more than that. I believe that we do have certain particular factors (good or bad) that will step out onto the road before you - sometimes to test, sometimes to please, sometimes to direct, sometimes simply to give each of us the richness of the human experience.

I do believe that we are meant to meet certain people to open doors for us (or close them) and I do also believe that many of the struggles we face build us into who we are meant to be. Whether we like them or not. Whether we cause them or not.  Which is not to say that some of our struggles are not self-made. Many of them are. Or - we at least contribute greatly to them. (If I hadn't been drinking so damn much... that wouldn't have happened nor would it have continued. If I had listened to the few brave souls who confronted me about what I wasn't willing to admit, I would have walked out. So on and so forth...) Sometimes meeting those people (or situations) is more a test of who you are and what you have become - or has the change you believe has happened not really happened at all? Back to the drawing board...

I personally believe in God. And while I do not believe He micro-manages us, I do believe that He will provide ample opportunity to get us where we need to be in order to contribute. Not everyone follows the path that would be best for them, us or the world at large but that is (more often than not though there are always exceptions) not due to lack of opportunity. We just have to be willing to put in the work... the sacrifice (sometimes)... the risks (other times)... the effort to get there. Sometimes it may require a little research to find out what you need to do in order to be where you want (or hope) to end up. We have to climb the stairs to get to the landing.

In short - while it is known and is completely plausible that some outside influences will always - well - influence us and who we are or who we will become, in many ways it's what you decide on the inside that determines the end result of both triumphs and suffering. You want it? Go for it! While something may come along to derail you... or teach you... if you really want it - keep at it. It does not matter if it takes longer for you than others. It does not matter if you are doing life out of the "normal" order. Not everything works out for everybody but it's better to give it a shot than give it up. Unless, of course, you intrinisically know when to say when. If this is the path you are really meant to stay on (at least for a while), those doors will open (or close)... one way or another. And you never know where those doors may end up leading.

Con Mis Amigas

2011-02-11T08:03:00.000-08:00

Last night I went out with some of my girls. These were a few of the girls who have been in my life for more than half of it at this point.  We drove around together - hitting up an Applebee's, a Spencer's going out of business sale (bachelorette party needs) and ending our night at Wal-Mart for some picture taking fun. We were goofy, we were free - we were very much aware of one another. And in many ways, we felt 18 again.

We came together in order to try and bring some comfort to one of us. The Painter lost her father this week. Truly bringing comfort to someone in this situation is next to impossible.  Making someone laugh when there's so much heavy in their life is a tough job but I was glad we had the honor of doing it.

Laughter is often the best medicine. It may not fix anything in the end but it can - at least for a while - cover up the cough.

Unless Your Eyes Get Stuck

2011-02-10T07:22:00.000-08:00

We talked, we did not laugh - we got silent - we bored each other and I even rolled my eyes once or twice. Luckily, this was over the phone so nobody saw anything. Rolling my eyes about certain topics and the way one may speak about them just feels a little reminiscent of times past. (Shall we say... work, maybe? Shall we say that work is not all there is to life... and shall we say that you may have alot of responsibility - many of us do - but you are not saving lives here... you're simply adding to the landscape.)

Now, I say "we bored each other". I can't speak for both of us there (though I suspect I can due to that extra long pause after I stopped talking when I had to check and see if dude was still on the line... "hello?"... a couple seconds pass... "oh, sorry.").

Needless to say, regardless of how I said I would call in the next couple days, I changed my mind. So here comes the issue that I want to address today.

I said I would call, I don't want to call... so what do I do? (This is not for the "not sure if I don't want to call" department... this is for the "sure I don't want to call" department.)

I have four options ultimately...

One, call anyway.

Two, call anyway - just to say that I don't want to call anymore.

Three, send dude or dudette a message to say I know I said I would but I don't wanna.

Four, just don't call.

I think we can safely limit this down to three real options. Calling just to say I'm not going to call anymore - nor do you have to worry about calling me is just plain silly... so let's ignore this choice.

Ok... now we're narrowed down to three.

One - call anyway. This is not the brightest of ideas. While they may or may not actually have interest in talking to you anymore as well... this could end up ugly. A leading on of sorts, possibly... someone getting the wrong idea, also a possibility. Another possibility is that you could end up in a relationship with someone accidentally because you either could not face your own feelings or you could not face theirs. And still another possibility is a side of you could end up coming out that you are not crazy about. Maybe you'll express your agitation. Maybe they'll express theirs. Maybe it's just better not to call. Not that we should all be avoiding expressing ourselves but there's a time and a place... majority of the time that time and place is not with someone you barely know. Nor do you have any real interest in getting to know.

So, let's move to option three.

Three - send them a message. Via email, via the site you met through (if we're talking internet dating here) or via text. Somehow, get the message to them. Shit, use snail mail, if you must... though that idea seems as silly as calling them to say you don't want to call anymore.

Something simple will suffice. But - for you and for them - be honest. Not "you remind me of my ex" honest but "just not feeling it" honest. For you and for them, simply let them know what's going on. If it turns out that they are feeling something when you are not... at least they can put their hopes to rest. While many of us wouldn't really care after one or two phone calls... some people would. Treat others as you would like to be treated. Keep in mind that just because you would not necessarily care does not mean that the other party would not care. They very well may.

Four - just don't call.

While this is obviously the easiest (especially if one's guilt is not hair-trigger), it still seems like a lousy choice. Maybe you are concerned about the reaction you are going to get.... maybe you are concerned that they will not give a shit and your ego will be bruised... maybe you just simply do not think they're worth the time. Yet - they are... aren't they? They didn't actually do anything to harm you unless your eyes got stuck while rolling them. And they're people, right? Ugh... yeah... you have to do something to express the fact that you won't be showing up on their caller ID tonight... or tomorrow night.... or probably ever.

So... it looks like the best option is sending the message.

Now... what do you say?

Simple. "I told you I would call" to start (thank you, Texan) "but I just wanted to let you know that I have reconsidered" [insert excuse - or reason - here]*"Best of luck to you! Hope you find who you're looking for!"

*excuse or reason is usually simple - chemistry... not feeling it, maybe you're not ready for a relationship after all, etc.

The most important part of this message is probably actually the last two lines. You wish them well... you get/give closure. It's that simple.

It is mostly about treating others right. And there's nothing in the world wrong with going a little above when it comes to doing so.

Adhering To Motivation

2011-02-08T12:11:00.000-08:00

Motivation (as defined by the ACE Personal Trainer Manual) - the psychological drive that gives purpose and direction to behavior

Adherence - the extent to which people stick... (fade to black)

Again!

Adherence (as defined by the ACE Personal Trainer Manual) - the extent to which people stick to their plans or treatment recommendations.

Earlier today I noticed that I had stopped writing my definitions smack dab in the middle of the definition for "adherence". The definitions are done after the completed reading of any chapter in my book for personal training. Right before doing the review questions for said chapter. This has been the way of it throughout this second book. Which is kind of funny (as my subconscious screams) since the last time I just plain ol' stopped was right before the section on motivation. Took a while before I picked it back up.

Both motivation and adherence have often been a problem for me. Not in every area all the time - but specifically in the schooling area. Lately I have found myself sighing about the personal training certification and yesterday I hit a pothole in my Spanish class. For the first time, however, I am not going to flight... I am going to fight. I want to quit studying for the certification... and I want to quit Spanish 102.

Neither of these reactions are reasonable nor do I want to bow down to my every want; just to get rid of the discomfort of a) boredom or b) struggling like I did in high school. Sometimes when you ask for a second chance... you really do get it.

This is not a problem confined to me only. Many, many, many (if not all) people have problems with both motivation and/or adherence. Not all of them have it with school. Some have it with exercise, some have it with eating patterns, some have it with drinking/drugs, some have it within their own personalities - some have it in their relationships, some have it within their work environment, some have it with medication, some people have it in several different areas at once... some people have it only in one. No one's perfect after all. None of us can keep all of the balls in the air at all times.

None of us should expect ourselves to do so either.

Here's the thing though... while all of the balls will not stay up each and every single day, it is important to remember that when the balls fall to the ground mid-flight... you can always pick them back up when you are ready. You can always take a rest before grabbing them again. Sometimes a rest is all that is needed. I took last night off from even touching Spanish. I needed the night off. Simply put. I take a couple days off here and there from personal training when life calls for it. What I will not do, however, regardless of my feelings, is never pick either of them up again - not this time around. And from what it looks like, in some ways - I never have.

Softening

2011-02-04T08:14:00.000-08:00

There are awkward people in the world. We can all be awkward at times - in a variety of ways, depending on the circumstances. And, yes, that includes EVERYONE - from time to time. I tend to be awkward often enough but there are still limits. Not necessarily limits that I set. (I don't wake up in the morning thinking about when or how I can be awkward or not be awkward today.) It just happens when it happens. Just ask sister-in-friend about her stepfather's funeral. (Just thinking back makes me roll my eyes at myself - and chuckle. Not because of the funeral, of course, but because of the awkward way I made my way down the receiving line. "Awkward. Awkward. Awkward.")

Still - even in the goofiness that I find myself living from time to time - for which I can usually laugh about - as I said, I still have my limits. The truth is, no one wants to hear about how my bowels react in the midst of a story about a triumph in my life (unless the end result of the story requires it, of course - but any story involving my bowels and having to "go" would not be a triumph, I hope)... no one wants to receive a phone call from the toilet while I'm suffering from a stomach virus. People just DO NOT want to know. The fact is, I'm not even sure I want to know - and we're talking about my own bodily functions here.

Ok... we're not talking about mine specifically. We're talking about a co-worker. The last two examples are real and they were done (and probably will be again) by someone I see regularly.

We were chuckling about it when someone new to us threw it out there. "You guys are too hard on the guy."
Now, granted, others in the room ran with it a bit further than the simple examples (and truth) that I spoke of above. Throwing insults out there that were unnecessary at best - jealousy at worst (not everyone has accomplished some of the things this man has done - regardless of how his bowels felt the need to move from time to time). Ugliness, sure.

I spent the rest of the afternoon mulling over two things (besides the work I had to complete). One was the loss of my "Kiddo" buddy (he passed yesterday morning) - and the comment about being too hard on someone else who's still here. As the night wore on - "you guys are too hard on the guy" kept running through my mind. As I washed dishes, as I got ready for bed and again this morning.

I have determined that the statement is accurate. Which makes me uncomfortable. While I may not be as rough as several others - maybe I could keep my mouth wired shut just a little tighter from time to time. Maybe I could learn to just laugh to myself instead of helping add to the problem. This is about respect ultimately. I can't swear to you that I will never say anything again. But - I can try. I can try to remember that I'd hate for everyone to remember all the awkward things I've done, while in a group, while I am no where to be found. I would hate for those same people who treat me with respect often enough - just don't respect my embarrassing side enough to stop spreading it to those who don't know. Maybe I could also remember that while others may go down a road that involves a degree of ugly which I have not partaken of (in this particular circumstance) - that does not make my own actions perfectly ok. Wrong is wrong. While I tend to be a very big "gray" believer inner... in some circumstances when mean is mean... that's just all there is to it.

Random Thought #27

2011-02-03T09:17:00.000-08:00

"I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on water."
-from a forward

Clarity on Obscurity

2011-02-02T06:13:00.000-08:00

Be obscure clearly.
~E.B. White

As I have had no issue declaring in recent times - I enjoy writing. I hope to make a living at it - someday (rather sooner than later, if I have my way). In yesterday's post, I made mention of my twelve week fast. I was slightly obscure about what I was giving up. Or, maybe, I was very obscure about it - or maybe I wasn't at all. For those who did not put two and two together (or did not read yesterday's blog), I am giving up drinking for the next twelve weeks.

There is no real reason to be obscure about this. I know why I was dancing around it yesterday - there are a list of reasons. Mostly out of embarrassment - I couldn't say it outright. Guilt played a large factor into it also. But - this blog isn't exactly about all of those feelings or thoughts or the process of decision. (That's what I keep a journal for.) This blog is meant to be about what I hope to gain.

A short while ago, I had made the decision that I would not drink and write at the same time. It muddies too much up on the page. Sure, maybe at times it helps the imagination to go a little further or it helps me spill the beans a little more freely but the truth is - I love writing just a little too much for that. Not that truth is not what I am after. It is. Even in fiction, you can speak truth. But - just as you love a person and want to be careful with them, I want to be careful with my writing. I want to treat it delicately, even when it's a decidedly indelicate matter I am dealing with. Tough love can be good - but is only necessary in the rarest of circumstances.

But - when I drink - I lose that. I lose that touch, that care... that softness that I want to have. The understanding that I have tried to obtain through the course of my life flies right out the window, into the wind and makes it's way to an empty field in Kansas, where I am unlikely to find it. People need understanding so therefore characters need understanding. When I drink I drop the ball on this and life comes to a halt. Short and sweet. Both in my writing and in my life.

For me, I have begun to shape my life into something of my own personal masterpiece. Or, at least, I am trying. When I lose an entire day or two - sometimes more often than other times - the masterpiece takes a quick dive to the bottom of the Delaware River. Where it stays until the diver can go in to find it. I simply cannot handle losing anymore days. I have lost enough already. My life has lost enough already.

To continue on the path I have been walking for some time now - without a breather from time to time from this one large personal problem that I carry around in my backpack - would be to reverse EB White's words and clearly be obscure. To everyone, including me. Life has asked me for more than this and I intend to give it my all.

Twelve Weeks

2011-02-01T06:14:00.000-08:00

Going on a fast. For the next twelve weeks. It'll be a challenge but maybe not as much of one as I think (or fret). What am I fasting from? Well... let's just say my stomach will be thankful, my mood will be thankful and my life should stop appearing cloudy quite so often. Even if it is crappy outside.

This is more of check on myself. Is this something I need? Is it something I can do? The answer to both may very well be "yes". A couple years ago I did six weeks - and I regained much during that time. (As Biff puts it... I had balls.) Not to mention the 12 pounds that fell off without effort.

So... let's see what happens in the next twelve weeks... shall we?

My calendar has been marked up quite a bit in the last several weeks. All those check marks adding up. The color I had yet to use was red. Which was intended for smoking... now I'll be using it for something else. Preferably every day for the next twelve weeks.

I am wondering... how will I do in the bars, how will I do when my triggers are pulled? How will I do and what will happen? Family history runs deep, situations in life have run deeper and the ease by which this issue has come into my life runs as deep as a well.

It's time to climb out of the well - just glad I still have this rope.

Four Phases

2011-01-29T17:29:00.000-08:00

Phase 1: Stability and Mobility Training

Phase 2: Movement Training

Phase 3: Load Training

Phase 4: Performance Training

These are the initial phases in functional movement and resistance training. The names themselves are pretty self explanatory but as I read about them I began to thinking about how these four phases can also represent more than just your basic "we're going to work out today" mentality. These could easily be translated into other life skills and situations as well.

For instance, in relationships. I am going to be leaning in on the mostly romantic type (dating in particular) but we could probably break this down for other types of relationships as well.

Phase 1: Stability and Mobility Training. In personal training, this is when the trainer checks out where a client is in their posture, how well they move and if they are physically able to stay stable during certain types of movements. This is when the exercise is at it's easiest - and an idea begins to form as to how in or out of shape a client is. Just looking at someone can never give you a full assessment.

In dating, this is the two dates or first two times you meet or hang out with someone. Usually this occurs in a restaurant or bar setting - movies are a bad idea because you can't see or talk to one another. Personally, I wouldn't want my trainer training me in the dark. We get to see what they look like, we get to see their body language, we get to see if they are initially stable (or someone we want to even bother getting to know even the slightest bit better). We get a feel for where they are in their life - and see if it matches where we are even a little bit. Or if it just won't work. (Though "it just won't work" shouldn't be something your trainer should ever say to you in the overall.) Or, possibly, this could be when you decide if this is someone who makes your heart flutter enough to be willing to overlook the already glaring issues. In short, if someone has scoliosis, exercise ain't going to straighten out their back but there are still other obvious benefits to exercise.

Phase 2: Movement Training: This is the phase where basic movements are perfected. Five types of movement in particular. Bend-and-lift movements, single-leg movements, pushing movements, pulling movements and rotational (spiral) movements.

In dating, this starts to occur after I would say the first two dates but somewhere in the first couple weeks of a relationship. This is when we decide we do want to know this person better - for sure. Even if it's just in the bedroom or if it's out in the world - we want to see how they move. We want to see how they bend and lift. Do they bend from the back or from the knees? Is their lifting manner soft or hard? How do they handle themselves in relaton to you? Are they polite or are they gruff? We want to see what their single-leg movements are like. Do they appear to want to walk in front of you, in back of you or side by side? We want to see their pushing movements. Do they really, really want to see you again - or do they barely open the door at all. Or do they wait for the wind to swing the door open when someone else (you) opens it. In other words, do they dig you? We want to see their pulling movements. Do they pull back at certain triggers, do they want to take it slow or want to take it fast? Do they seem unafraid - even in the slightest - to want to pull you toward them. Or, do they seem a bit timid about this? We want to see their rotational movements. Are they someone who spins their wheels - are they someone who seems to live in repeated patterns (according to their stories, mentalities, etc.). In short, are they someone going (or staying) where you want to be?

Phase 3: Load Training: This is when weights are usually added in personal training. And from there you progress with the weights and really get serious workouts in.

Now, I could go all sexual with this whole thing but I'm choosing not to. So - this is when you really start to go somewhere. The relationship starts building and you begin to rely on each other - if for nothing else than regular company. (Though if it's love - I would hope it wouldn't just be about having a mere companion for that Saturday afternoon movie.) This goes on for a while. For some, this could easily go on forever. You start out small - at five pounds (agreeing on who handles paying for dinner each time you go out - sometimes it will be one person, sometimes the other, sometimes it'll be dutch OR one respective partner will always be footing the bill - this is between you two after all) then you move to ten pounds (who's place is better to stay at according to what's going on - or just plain ol' better to stay at - let's say... the one who does NOT live with mom and dad). Then you move on from there... until... of course... you either enter into a partnership at the living together level or you get married. (Hey - while I personally believe in marriage - not everyone does nor can everyone get married.) Though, as stated earlier, for some... parts of this phase will always exist in the partnership or marriage levels. This phase is all about learning to work together - as you mount on a little more stress at a time. (Not all stress is bad stress, after all.)

Phase 4: Performance Training: This is the phase that goes the distance. Literally. If you are going into competition, this is the phase you will have to enter into in order to do well. Many, if not most, of the people who work out will ever even come close to this phase. Because, frankly, many, if not most, do not want to.

This is the biggie. This phase is the equivalent of tests of the relationship, major life stresses, children and money. This is the make or break of many relationships. Many relationships will not make it all the way to phase 4, more often than not... and that's ok. We don't all want to marry everyone we date - or even live with - right? After going through phases one through three, this is the one that can really, truly see how well you do together. No relationship is roses all the time. But the seeds for those roses should always be there - even if they're tucked in the ground. Not every athlete who has trained will even rank in the end. Not every relationship survives this phase - which is often a very sad situation - officially married or not. Just as it is that not every world champion will also get Olympic gold - the important part is that they did not back down - they tried. Which is not to say that no world champions get Olympic gold - plenty do. And for those who make it into phase 4 and their relationship keeps on ticking - well - that is something that should be celebrated in the closing ceremony of life.

Cinco Dias

2011-01-23T17:39:00.000-08:00

Ok, I've done it. I got through an entire semester's worth of Spanish in 5 days. And several weeks worth of a second semester too. My brain is fried. I have no idea what the last few things I learned were. At the point where I became utterly confused, I put it down. Not because I didn't want to figure it out but because I simply couldn't. I had grown a bit on the weary side by the time I got to ejercicio ocho y nueve en capitulo tres.

And I'm ok with that. What takes many students 5 to 15 weeks to do, I did in five days. Not a small feat, if I do say so myself.

Tomorrow I return to class - feeling slightly more confident that I just might make it to week 15 after all. Not that I really ever thought I couldn't or wouldn't make it - but I might just have a chance at chasing down a segunda "A" in espanol. Something that was completely and totally impossible in high school. Why that is - I'm not sure.

I have my theories. Though I think it's a witch's brew of reasons, not just one. I managed somehow - to squeeze through Spanish in high school but what a painful experience that was. Good Lord, I do not really enjoy thinking back to those days all that much - so I won't go any further.

What's my point here?

I'm realizing, I don't have a specific one. I'm rambling. But - that's ok too. I'm just happy that after the intensity of the last five days - for the next fifteen weeks, I can sit back and enjoy my education.

Spanglish 102

2011-01-22T11:22:00.000-08:00

It's the little things for me. The small choices that are the right choices. The skipping of a happy hour in order to finish studying. The skipping of a happy hour in order to squeeze a workout in. The skipping of a happy hour for the sake of my liver.

This, mis amigos, was a first.

Dammit... something went wrong... I had this whole Spanglish thing going on that I don't really feel like re-doing. But - it didn't save. Class started the other day, I've got an entire semester's worth of work to review before Monday a las once.

Suffice it to say, be prepared for some espanol en coming blogs. It may not always be perfecto pero por those whom leen for some time now... tu know that when yo es en clase - mis blogs are heavily influenced by whatever it is yo es estudia.

Strange that more of my personal training stuff doesn't make it onto here... still studying that too.

A Caveman Makes PB&J

2011-01-20T15:51:00.000-08:00

Success has been rare. But - for me - what has been even rarer still is the discipline or drive it takes to get to a successful place. Now, just to make it clear, I do not completely blame myself here. Nor do I blame anyone else. I don't place blame because I do not think this is something in which blame has any rightful place.

This has been a process of preparation. I have had a few successes that I am happy with. Not many but a few. Things I have worked towards and gained. Yet, at the age of 31, they should have or should be more plentiful. Again, however, this is no one's fault. It just is. Life circumstances have often times prevented me from moving on, moving up or just plain moving at all. Between my disorder and a certain lack of structure in my formative years and beyond, I simply did not have the tools to work with.

Would you blame a caveman for his inability to make a peanut butter and jelly?

No, he did not have the tools to do so. Things in the world and in his life had not yet evolved in a direction where this was possible. Simple as a PB&J is to make - to him it would have been impossible. Not even a thought in his mind, not even a craving would have been because neither the peanut butter nor the jelly - or even the bread would have existed.

In my life, the tools just have not been present until now. The tools being mostly internal, mostly mental and somewhat intangible. I have had many of the physical resources for quite some time but had no idea how to put them together in order to create the bigger picture.

Before now - I simply didn't know how. Nor could I get my thinking straight enough to make myself a very real, very full life.

It's Done

2011-01-18T05:53:00.000-08:00

It wasn't part of my 11 in 11 but it still has everything to do with it. Reading. Reading is just another part of writing. Filling the mind with knowledge flows out into one's writing in a way that nothing else can. So - when I finish a book that's over eleven hundred pages, I feel like I have accomplished something. Little by little I made my way through "It" and now it's done.

I read it in just over a month. I do not recall exactly when I started it but I do recall telling Little Mama that I had just started it and it was going to be an investment of my time to finish. This was on the eve of the birth of her new little son. I wish I were better about recalling the exact date. And I think I may have started it just a day or so before that. It took Stephen King 4 years to write.

In that time, he did release other books, which makes me pretty sure that he worked on other projects besides that one all by it's lonesome. Much like anyone who's working toward multiple goals at once. You do a little each day and you will get there. Wading across the water is exercise too, if you do it enough times.

Tonight or tomorrow I'll be starting my next book - nonfiction this time (I try to rotate between the two) - going with history this round. Otherwise, just gotta keep on keeping on with my other goals. Spanish II starts tomorrow too...

Just Doing It

2011-01-15T15:27:00.000-08:00

You may recall the old Nike slogan "Just Do It". While I'm not 100% sure if they're still actually using this slogan or not (and a quickie search online did not give me an answer), it's been bouncing around my brain often enough lately that I feel the need to mention it.

There are several things in my life that I have to do to get to where I am going. Just as any of us who have goals can attest to. The strange part of this to me is the fact that many times those small steps seem daunting in the grand scheme of the final outcome. Even when you break them down into measurable increments, they still may seem boring or useless to do. Not always - but often enough to make me (or you, maybe), just not do them. Whatever they may be. Many of us want the goal - not necessarily the work that goes into the goal. No matter how satisfying that work may end up being - or garnering the pride and self esteem that taking those steps can bestow upon us - many times it may appear at the get-go that the small steps are useless and we may feel trapped by a "why bother?" attitude.

But - there is no other way to reach them. And that's just how it is. I could pin all my hopes on the Mega-Millions to pay off my debt... or I could just not use the credit cards that got me to where I am in that situation. While I could spend more time in front of the TV, relaxing (and possibly finding out the current slogan of Nike in the process) - I find that I can't relax at all if I haven't placed enough check marks on the calender for the current week. To me, the least relaxing feeling is taking a vacation I haven't earned. Even if only for 20 minutes.

And by earned, I don't mean that I just the did the basics of getting up, showing up where I have to in order to get paid and then heading home just to do it all again the next day. While you can earn alot in 8 hours, if you are not putting a real effort into life in the process, you haven't earned anything.

So lately, I've been saying "Just Do It" to myself. The only way to obtain those goals is to put that work in. The only way to feel confident in clothes that I truly love wearing is to get back into good, if not great, shape. The only way to get a degree or certification is to read and study. The only way to be a successful writer is to write. The only way to see the world is to make the plans and get going. The only way to a life well lived, with intention, is to do it.

What are you waiting for? Just do it.

A Sign?

2011-01-11T16:58:00.000-08:00

For those of you who have spoken to me recently... I have probably at some point made mention of Stephen King. I started reading "It" a while back (and will be hitting page 1000 tonight... woo-hoo!) and started reading up on the writer himself. I watched some interviews, I read some biographies - I've study a little Stephen King as of late.

Then today I went to see my doctor. We discussed things and for some reason I opened up to her about my plans for the future and what I would like to do with myself. Writing and studying literature... possibly go into teaching (I'd really love to get to teaching at the college level at some point in the future.) And you know who's name she mentioned without me even mentioning him?

Stephen King. She pointed out how he'd been a sixth grade teacher until his books took off. This was just an example to her. To me, I was thinking "it's a sign". Now, granted, he is one of the most famous American writers of our time and he's a well-known example of success... but still... just the fact that it flew out of her mouth in such a nonchalant way, made me feel completely at ease. I had never mentioned any of my writing to her before and she was completely happy to hear it. She encouraged me to stick with the path and smiled brightly as she talked about "flow". She appeared more pleased during this visit than any I've had before this.

It may have just been a coincidence but I can't help myself... I am going to keep on thinking "sign". Just going to keep on thinking it, if for no other reason than it makes me feel good to have faith that my life is headed there... down the written road, if only I keep at it.

The Golden Voice

2011-01-09T19:54:00.000-08:00

On Friday, a co-worker of mine mentioned the story of the homeless man with a golden voice. His name is Ted Williams and he's gone from homeless one day to not so homeless the next. Literally, in the blink of an eye. Or, rather, in the blink of 48 hours. I did not look the story up immediately. But - when I did, I saw something amazing. Something promising. Not just for him but for all of us who've been feeling the wringer of life for just a little too long.

I've been having a tough time as of late. This winter is taking a toll on me.  Right about now I feel trapped by it. I don't look good, I don't feel good and I am definitely not doing all that good overall. I manage to pull it together for a day here or there but I am simply not functioning at my optimum level - I'm not even ten levels down from my own personal optimum. Just going to the grocery store - and completing the task of buying food feels like an accomplishment to me right now. I am not happy about this but what can I do? Winter is unavoidable in New Jersey. Just as spiritual winter is often unavoidable in life.

I did get some really great news in the past week. A small windfall of money. Enough to give me a little security where there wasn't any before. It's not a million dollars but it's enough - enough to help me feel a little better about me and where I am at 31 years old. It was a relief. For a day or so, I felt I had won the lottery emotionally. Even if my brain did not take notice. I still could not physically function any better than I had the day before.

Then someone mentions a story to me. Something from the news - and eventually I take a look. It's incredible. Imagine spending a decade on the streets - only to have your God-given talents noticed by just the right person at just the right time. Every once in a while the news has something great to mention, even if the positive story disappears almost faster than it appeared.

It's the story of the underdog in many of us. The mistakes we make that leave us stranded by the side of the road.  The mistakes we make that screw it all up - that make our lives almost irredeemable to at least ourselves. The mistakes we make that leave us feeling less than worthy, less than others. The bad things that happen to us by no fault of our own. Life just takes a sidestep and plans go out the window.  For some it's an injury or an illness. For others, it's a raw deal when someone runs out on you or dies suddenly, violently or otherwise. And still for others, it's chemical dependency of some sort - which is a mix of bad choices, bad influence and, of course, genes. Yet, I believe all of these things happen for a reason. Many times the reason is hidden from us. Sometimes forever - sometimes only for a while - and sometimes the reason is obvious and in front of us - just as plain as can be.

Then the second chance comes. A chance to redeem, a chance to step up to the plate again - a chance to maybe make it right.  To use the gifts of a second chance in order to maybe give other people a second chance (or a third, fourth or even fifth chance) as well.

My heart is asking for the second chance. God knows what that second chance is that I am hoping for and knows better than I do what I really need so I will just have to trust.  There's something about the story of Ted Williams that struck me so deeply. (Follow the hyperlink earlier in the blog to see it.) His sense of gratitude bursts out of him and into your heart. It's the kind of gratitude that can really only come after a lost period when you see that maybe there are still some blessings in the bag for you too. That maybe your mistakes do not have to make up the totality of your life. Maybe that second chance is just waiting around the corner or on the street.  Maybe it's there for all of us who've been given a raw deal more often than not. Don't get me wrong - I have plenty to be thankful for and I do say my thanks. But - what I am hoping for is a chance to not only make it through another day but to make it to the end of this journey with a sense that I did get to where I was meant to be.

That's not my second chance though - not exactly. My second chance remains between God and me.

Kiddo

2011-01-04T22:27:00.000-08:00

It ain't over till it's over.
-Yogi Berra

In front of us lies the ultimate truth. It separates the men from the boys but it separates none of us in the end. Some of us think of it often, some of us think of it little; if at all. Then some of us are given weeks or months or the indecision of the in between time only. The doctors say it may only be a couple weeks... a couple of months at best.

And then we say we will continue fighting. Yet pain management and quality of life are all that is left to us as options.

A man calls you "kiddo" and it crawls up your skin and into your body. For me, it has often been this - "kiddo" bothers me. I long ago left "kiddo" on the doorstep of the local orphanage and took on the familiar role as a grown up. Every once in a while - however - someone says it and I am not bothered, I am flattered. I see Sally Field up on a stage yelling "You like me, you really like me" and I thank God that someone whom I respect sees me in this way. I have alot to learn and alot to experience. I am probably a child to you... even if you have to know me on an even playing field.

And you have always treated me as such. Regardless of the "kiddo".

My last face to face interaction with you was in a parking lot. You asked me how something was going and I gave you an "it's not" type of answer. As in, "it's not going at all." I had no idea these would be the last words I would speak to you - I had no idea that the expression of my annoyance at men on the other side of the world would be it. You didn't mind however - you understood. Life goes on around you, no matter what the doctors have to say.

This is striking me deeply. Much deeper than I would have expected or preferred. But - the truth is it's not over til it's over. The fight is still in you - and it's still in me - though I do find myself resolving to the end that may very well be. Denial is a formidable enemy to all. The prayers are on my heart, in my head and leaving my mouth.

I am scared of the truth. Not just for you but for me as well. Did you live a life well lived? Did you do what you wanted to do? Did you get to know God here so you would recognize Him/Her when you get there? You probably will. No one, and I mean no one, could be as pleasant and as good to work with as you have been without having a piece of God - as I believe I know Him - inside of them.

Thank you for being a really good, cool guy. And thank you for calling me "kiddo".

The Fireworks Outside

2011-01-01T11:19:00.000-08:00

In order to keep getting more of what you already have, keep doing what you are doing. If you want something different, you must do something different.
– Lucy MacDonald

Each year I ring in the New Year ultimately the same old way. The faces may change but I always end up watching the ball drop in Times Square. On TV. Same as many, many people across America. There is nothing wrong with this and I have long enjoyed it.

The countdown usually gets me - the cheering that follows seems as though something grand has been accomplished. In many ways, it has. I mean, we've lived this long - long enough to see another year come and go. That is exciting stuff.
Each time the drill goes on and the ball slides down, wobbling ever so slightly and slowly, there is something unspoken about it. At least for me. My guess is for a great many other people as well. It's the hope and promise of what we would like to believe the coming-up-on-you-quick year is going to bring. It has long been the hope that this new year will finally be "my year". The year when everything gets better and life finally starts happening on a larger scale. That somehow these next twelve months are the beginning of something new, something fun, something exciting and most of all - something very real. Something to write home about, something that will be there to reflect on, smile about and simply enjoy when the angels come to whisk you away at the old age of 88, lying on your bed at home saying goodbye to a life well lived.

This will be the year it all begins.

And each year - inevitably - this is not the way of it. Life continues on at it's regular pace. I continue to work a job that drowns out the life in me, I continue to walk the same path I've been walking and I continue to battle the same issues I have been battling for a long time. Sort of. Things do continue to evolve, even if I can't see it at the outset but only in hindsight.

Meanwhile - I continue each year, time and time again - probably 31 years of it, to watch the ball drop and to celebrate the seemingly magical promise that the change of the calender brings. This year - however - I did it a different way. I sat on my couching trying to read but really - I was texting with a good friend who was home sick this fine holiday when it dawned on me.

I was on my couch because I was waiting until a couple minutes before midnight in order to watch the ball drop once again. This would be the first year - possibly in all of my life - I would be doing it alone. I had to be in work early this morning and was already tired from a long day at work yesterday so I was going to watch the ball drop and then crawl into bed. I had stopped by a friend's party in order to give her the respect of showing up - if even for a little bit - and I had a few small drinks. Not nearly enough to get me drunk or even the slightest bit tipsy. I was sipping a glass of wine as I was texting and trying to read the same paragraphs over and over again when I made the announcement. (To my good friend, Co-Britney Fan.)

I am going to spend this year under the covers in my bed. I wished her the best of nights and the best of upcoming years, plugged my slowly dying phone into the wall and crawled under the sheets. (After pouring out the glass of wine in the sink.) As I sat in the hospital with Eddie Kaspbrak and his mom - listening to the argument that ensued - I glanced once or twice at the clock but was lost mostly in what was going on in that Derry Home Hospital room.

When I heard the fireworks go off I thought they were early then realized the time had flown by. I listened to the noise makers and the fireworks - and for a couple moments I allowed myself a pity party - then I promptly told myself to shut-up, took my book to my book bag to bring with me today, crawled back into bed and went to sleep. I wasn't going to be hungover this New Year's Day... though I wouldn't be particularly well rested... I wouldn't be hungover. And I would get to work on time. Which I did.

The light of my phone receiving a few text messages lit up my room periodically as I began drifting off to sleep. I wasn't alone in the world - I was just alone in my room.

I am not going to pin all of my hopes and dreams on 2011 as I have in the past. I am going to pay attention to my current goals and I am going to try to remain focused, which is something I have hardly done before. I decided, in that quick moment of getting off the couch and getting into bed, of pouring out the glass of wine and choosing to do this sober that I was going to do something different - and who knows - maybe this will actually have a lasting effect. Or at least it will be some small part of the changes puzzle that my life so desperately wants.

Goodbye 2010

2010-12-31T11:57:00.000-08:00

Goodbye, 2010.

The year I rediscovered myself by cutting back on medication that once kept me bound in a strange sort of way. The year I confirmed for myself that I know what I want most out of life.

Otherwise, not too much to speak of. But - at this point, that will just have to be enough.

Hello, 2011.

Color Code

2010-12-28T14:19:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I took a trip to the dollar store looking for calendars. The hang on your wall type. The kind I haven't bothered with in several years. And I found one. It's of horses, which is fine - I like them. And maybe by the end of the year I'll be able to distinguish between the breeds - having looked at them each day for a year. At the dollar store my options were horses or golf courses. I thought the decision was a simple one. Maybe if I were willing to spend more on it the choice would not be so easy but I'm not willing to do that.

My reason for buying the calendar was simple. I am going to hang it up next to my computer and I am going to keep track of several of my 11 in 11 goals with it. Today I ran out to Walgreen's during my lunch to buy some accompanying Sharpies. I now have all of the colors of the rainbow. And then some. I don't recall black ever being part of the rainbow.

For each color, there's a goal. Purple = outfit, blue=no credit card usage, red=smoke free and so on and so forth. For each day that passes, I will be able to put a check mark down if I have worked on the goal. I don't need each color every day but I want to be able to look over each month and see that some progress has been made in each area. There are a couple that don't have a marker... such as the inferiority stuff but how would I process that? How would I provide a check mark? That kind of stuff will probably (in many ways) be solved by the check marks the rest of my goals produce.

As for traveling and meeting people with similar interests, those don't have a marker either. But - my goal is to go to at least one outing a month with the intention of meeting someone new. I'll probably have to write that on my calendar in word form - just as a vacation would go up there too.

Eleven in Eleven

2010-12-24T10:02:00.000-08:00

My friend Spice started something. Eleven in eleven. Eleven goals in 2011. She has pleasantly invited some of the people in her world to join her in making goals of their own. I have decided to give it a go. I woke up this morning thinking about it as well as the goals I might want to place on my list. So... here it is:

One... to get a full workout in five days a week. That means an hour. One single hour... only five hours in the entire week. Weights, cardio, stretching... the whole nine yards. When I try to lose weight I fail miserably with the eating thing. When I exercise at this level, however, I see results. Real results. I have tried this before but have managed to fall out of sync with myself time and time again. This year... no more of that.

Two... to quit smoking once and for all. It's a nasty habit - I am well aware. Not much has to be said about this though out of all the goals mentioned here, this very well may be the toughest to complete. But - we'll see.

Three... to make a much larger effort of putting together outfits each day of the week. I tend to get lazy with this one. I tend to just let it go for work and what I wear to work trickles into every day, of course. There is a reason for this. A very simple one. I do not enjoy what I do for a living and feel no desire to dress up for it. However - if I look at this from a different angle, it is really very simple. I do not enjoy dressing up for work but I do enjoy dressing up for me. I enjoy wearing my hair down and I enjoy putting on makeup. Maybe if I just see it from this different point of view, the enjoyment of it for no other reason will begin to trickle in.

Four... go back to school. I only have a few classes left before my associates is complete. Spanish II is signed up for and it's just time to get 'er done. (That line is so annoying.)

Five... to stop feeling inferior to others because they have blessings that I do not. Whether it's looks, relationships of the loving kind, a family or a job they enjoy, I feel inferior. It's not envy exactly... I want those around me to be blessed and I am usually happy when they are. It's just that I want to feel blessed too. And when I'm not... which in 2010 this has felt like a barren desert... I tend to lash out and try to find faults so I can feel like others are less than perfect, just like me - because there has to be a reason why so many things refuse to go my way so often, right?  I wonder why the gifts that land on other people's doorsteps do not land on mine but maybe feeling inferior actually has something to do with this. Maybe. This one is going to be tough.

Six... to finish my personal training certification and start the boot camps when the weather gets warm. I doubt I will ever do personal training full time but I still want to give it a go, simple as that.

Seven... to meet more people who have interests similar to mine. Whether it's reading, writing, traveling or chatting it up, I have noticed that many of the people I am friends with - whom I love dearly - just do not seem to be looking at or thinking of things the same way I do. Which is actually perfectly fine.  Necessary, even. However - I would enjoy getting to know others whom I can enjoy my passions with more often. In ways that may be new and unexpected. Not to replace but to add to.

Eight... to write at least one single spaced page every day.  And my blog does NOT count. Many an author has lived by this simple rule and maybe I should too. Or maybe I should at least try it.

Nine... to send my writing out to contests, magazines, publishers and agents. While I expect plenty of rejection - in order to share my writing, the world has to at least have the opportunity to read it.

Ten... to go on four trips (at least). They do not all have to be a week long or even involve a plane but they do have to be somewhere away from here.

Eleven... to work on paying off my debt (seriously, for once) and start saving again. This one is pretty self explanatory.

So, there you have it... eleven goals - here's to moving into 2011...

Even If

2010-12-22T20:04:00.000-08:00

Even if no one sees it, God does.

Even if nothing changes, I do.

Even if no one hears it, God does.

Even if doors fail to open, an opportunity still exists.

Even if chances seem to pass me by, there will almost always be another.

Even if today is a dark one, there will be light again.

Even if support is buckling beneath me, I know how to use a hammer and nails.

Even if everything I have wanted escapes me - I will try again.

Even if kindness eludes me, I can still be kind.

Even if all I need is understanding, I understand myself.

Even if I fail to meet my own expectations, at least I strive at all.

Even if my personal cross to bare is sometimes very heavy, within it I have depth.

Even if the trust I have in people is not deserved, I know some of the deserving.

Even if my sacrifices are misunderstood, at least I made them.

Even if I am horribly imperfect every single day, I understand that everyone else is too.

Even if that imperfection is an obvious blot on my life, I know that I need to seek forgiveness.

Even if I do not understand why the stars fail to align for me, I will not give in to the harshest of my thoughts.

Even if I see the temptation of permanent sleep as a possibilty, I will simply choose to nap instead.

Even if this thing continues to hold me down, at least I will keep up the fight.

What I Want

2010-12-20T19:59:00.000-08:00

I want to dance. I want to sing off key to songs I barely know. I want to laugh. Hard. I want to open my heart and my mind again. I want to eat good food. I want to imbibe on some beverages which will make me feel a little tipsy. I want to explore the possibilities. I want to write. I want to read. I want to discuss everything. I want to learn. I want to have spontaneous meaningful conversation again. I want to see the world. I want to love others and life again.

I want to live. Growing older is unavoidable (with any luck). Growing old before my time is avoidable. Lately I have been feeling way too old, way too fast. This has GOT to STOP. And I'm the only one who can make that happen. The early thirties is not a time to throw in the towel - it's a time to leave that towel out in the sun and bask in it's warmth after a good swim.

At Least You Tried

2010-12-16T08:53:00.000-08:00

You put yourself out into the world and you hope that someone likes what they encounter. You hope but then you find yourself unsure. This occurs in many areas of life - job interviews, dating, social events, you name it... you have to put yourself out there from time to time.

Granted, there is always the hermit option in life but that is a sad state of being that most of us simply could not handle.

And it is inevitable that some people will not like you. Depending on the situation and your placement in that situation - there may be many people who don't like you. It may be one person. There are times when we simply don't care for others and there is no deeper reason. You just do not like them and/or they just do not like you. This is just the nature of humanity. This is the nature of who we are as a collective whole. You can't please everybody and you can't win everyone over - no matter how truly wonderful you really are.

If you're trying... you should just stop trying... it's never going to work. You will be happier in the long run if you give it up earlier rather than later.

Which does not mean NO ONE will like you. There are plenty of people that will. Plenty of people. The problem is, at times, finding them.

Then there comes the issue of putting yourself out there in some other way. Not just simply for showing up and desiring for a connection. For some of us, it is something that is birthed from within (and I'm not talking babies here), something creative - something to add into the world with hopes that maybe the right eyes will see. Maybe you will find your audience. Maybe.

Failing to do so on the first try or the second try or even the one hundredth try does not mean they are not out there. They are out there somewhere - and with just the right amount of searching, finding and creating both explored and unexplored pathways - you may very well find each other (ask anyone who has been dating for any length of time and finds someone to love - whether forever or not). This, however, takes the first steps. Small steps that could lead you somewhere bigger, somewhere new. You could touch others but you have to reach out your hand first - sharing yourself and your creative endeavor (whether it's the painter displaying their first work or someone opening a new business - creativity is something that was not there but is now).

People will not always love everything you do even if they love you and most of what you do. (Even Tom Hanks has had a few stinkers.)  Putting your first foot out there, however, is important.  No matter what the reception to your work, which most people who have ever created will tell you is an extention of themselves, the fact is you have tried. You may never make your million dollars from it but if it brings someone something - particularly something positive that they would not have had otherwise then you have done your job. It would be unrealistic to say that this means rejection should not get to you... it does if you have heart... but allowing rejection to defeat you is what determines if you are forever lost inside your fear.

Step out and step up. People may not always appreciate what you are sharing but often you will find at least those who appreciate the effort that it takes.

My Fainting Room

2010-12-14T06:40:00.000-08:00

"Happiness is the sublime moment when you get out of your corsets at night."
- Joyce Grenfell

This is the time of year when most people are busy thinking about what they're going to buy, who they're going to buy it for and possibly even the reaction they will get as they hand whatever it may be over to it's true owner (or victim - in some cases). They may also be thinking about what they're going to get. Only a few more days until we all find out. Meanwhile, there are some who are reminded of happiness and cheer and how "holly jolly" the beginning of winter is. The world is in Christmas mode, folks and for this I am grateful. Even if I do not feel like them, I am glad to know and see them. Minus the cranky shoppers who flip other shoppers the bird in the parking lot. Minus those peeps, of course.

Just about a month ago things began to slowly fall into my own brand of winter mood. It started about a week or so before the giving of the thanks and will ride through until probably about March. Some days will be better or worse than others but it's tough to determine which will be which. Unfortunately, the holiday cheer often gets buried somewhere underneath a pile of rubble but often still manages to get enough air to make a comeback, just in time. Christmas and New Year's will come and go and some relief will filter in. Knowing that we're plowing through the coldest of days... leading to the rebirth that comes in spring helps me to breath just a little easier, a little calmer and without the weight on my chest - surrounding me, clenching me. Until then some days will be pulled tight and some days will feel like a sweatshirt resting on me gently. Choosing not to push myself too much is what life calls for right now. At a time when everyone else pushes themselves to the limit, I find myself stepping back and taking count of my plans for the future - regardless of how hard it is to run. Even if I end up crawling, I will crawl across the finish with the hope that next year, maybe next year... I'll be up and running again.

Mental Space

2010-12-10T06:38:00.000-08:00

The other day I made myself sound like a slob. And last night I did some cleaning. Very little reading - and no work on my story - but I did straighten up the place a bit. It only took me a short time, really to pick up what looked like a mess to me. I had a place for almost everything that was strewn about on my coffee table, much to my surprise so now there is space again.

I seem to go through streaks of allowing things to pile up. I am not sure what this is about but I am sure that it usually has something to do with something taking my attention and running... as things (life) often does. Maybe this is normal, maybe it's not. I just know that when I re-read my blog from the other day I felt like I made myself sound like a hoarder.  It's nothing like that at all.

A while back (as I have mentioned before) Spice had brought up the idea of "messy bed, messy head". (Or was it "messy head, messy bed"?) And then some things occurred in my life that put me squarely back in a good mental space. (ie. just enough medication to help me get a good night's sleep but not enough to make me "drugged") Do you know what happened almost spontaneously after arriving back in the good mental space? I began to make my bed each morning, right after getting out of it. Something I have never done before but something I have really been enjoying. Enjoying mostly when I climb back into bed the following night.

Do you know what else happened? Several things.

One, I am back to writing fiction - because that is what I feel I do best. Two, I am praying regularly. Three, I am back on the exercise train. (Though that one didn't exactly fall off too badly until the winter began to set in and Thanksgiving came along as it does.) Four, I have cleared out alot of emotional and mental space that had been previously occupied by nothing worth my time. Five, I have begun to develop my personal purpose in this world. Six, I have signed up for classes in the spring. Seven, I have stopped feeling a need to go out all the time - I am content in a world with pen and paper - or a word document and keyboard strokes. Eight, I have become a bit more serious about paying off any debt I have incurred in the last several years. Nine, I re-opened a door to online dating. And ten, I simply feel a sense of peace that had been missing for a very, very long time.

Many of these things seem to have been a cause and effect type of thing. One link in a chain leading to another. Much of it is a chicken and egg type of thing. Though if I sat down to figure it all out - I'd probably be able to... maybe another time. Either way, I am simply grateful that all of these things are running smoothly. I can't help but notice that all of it, however, coincides with being on a regular schedule at work. That'll be changing soon, my fingers are crossed that going back into a rotation doesn't kill everything I have finally got rolling right.

Random Thought #26

2010-12-09T07:05:00.001-08:00

"Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died."
-from a forward

Riving My Time

2010-12-08T07:28:00.000-08:00

Last week I started a story and this week I am finishing it up. Sometime in the last year I thought the idea up. Next year I am hoping to sell it to whomever will buy it. I have no idea where that will be yet.

I spent the week in between trying to figure it out. Trying to figure out the emotion that only one of my characters would feel and why she would behave the way she does. Yet it wasn't until I wrote the situation I had been trying to resolve into the story that I could see it.

On Monday, I had the day off from my day job. I puttered around the house knowing I should get to work. Work being two main things. Writing and reading, reading and writing. I sat down with an article about a poet by the name of Christian Wiman. I had never heard of him prior to this article but it's good to expand one's horizons. It was an interesting (and long) article about him for which I needed a dictionary. Not for all of it, luckily but for just a few words - some of which I probably should have known but didn't.

In the midst of reading this article about the author of Every Riven Thing (riven was one of the words I had to look up) I was suddenly struck by something in the article and I immediately put down the magazine and got to my own work. I worked and worked and took a decent sized break for dinner and then worked again, up until 10 o'clock. The hours passed without me knowing and my hand grew only the slightest bit tired from hours of writing. (I'm still trying to figure out how I write best.... longhand or on the computer... kind of believing the longhand works for a first draft and the computer works for adding in the details of a second draft - it's different for everyone.)

Upon reflection of what it was in the article that moved me I had no idea. I went back to the article in order to finish it during last night's downtime. This is a time of night that comes an hour or so before I have to go to bed, after my nightly shower, once I have turned the computer off for the night. When I have to work at 7:30am, the timing is at 9pm. The computer goes off. Apparently, as I've heard and read in multiple places, looking at a computer screen anywhere within the hour or so before you go to bed stimulates the brain in a negative way - causing sleep disturbance. So... I can enjoy some reading during this downtime. Reading from a - gasp - book or magazine. In the article there was a quote from the author that I loved. I believe I'm going to save it for the right occasion. This quote was enough to get me past my very temporary and not too stressful (though still irritating) writer's block. This was the quote that caused me to stir when I needed stirring. Funny part is not having remembered it at all until I re-read it.

I'm still working on figuring out my rhythm. The one that works best to bring the words out of me from within. I wish I could just not worry about my job at all (maybe just some schooling) so I could REALLY figure it out but I'll have to deal with what's here and now, not what will be. One day I'll be able to worry about finding my rhythm day in and day out as a full time writer (positive thinking) but for now - I have to stick with after work and on days off.

Taking the Trash Out

2010-12-05T06:49:00.000-08:00

So... I'm messy. So what? My car's a small record of things I meant to read, that I wore at some point or listened to in order to be inspired. Even if it was simply inspiration to keep breathing for the rest of the day. Or inspiration to try and reach a real, full, dark, deep and complete picture of my own internal wrath. Or maybe it's the mail my mom gives me each time I visit her house. She doesn't trust that I should actually throw it away. Maybe she's right... maybe something will leak through and I will have discovered that in the last two years I have simply forgotten to change my address on that one, very important forgotten form. Or... maybe they did.

For years, I have tried and failed and tried and failed to keep order in all things me. Guess what... it didn't work. I can be a mess and that's just who I have to be. Too much of my energy has thus far been wasted on "plans" to finally get completely organized. Lists, ideas... times spent berating myself for the sloppiness by which I sometimes live. Generally, however, I know where most things are... the things I need. I know where I put them. I know where to retrieve them. Usually.

If I notice, it's kind of getting gross... I dust it. If I notice that something is a strange color of white when it used to be pure, I cleanse it. If people are coming over, I try to make sure they won't leave covered in cat hair because they sat on my couch (thank you, large rollers from Wal-Mart) and that if they go in to use the restroom, they won't be concerned about touching anything. If they're eating at my table (or in my living room), I don't want them wondering what that thing is resting on the side. (It's a bowl of soup... from several days ago... eww.) Otherwise, I've got other things on my mind. Maybe cleanliness is next to Godliness. But - maybe - for some of us that cleanliness has to come from within instead of from within our apartments and our cars or on our desks. Maybe for some of us this strikes us as a balance that we need. Some people need to mop the kitchen each week. I just need to make sure there's nothing down there my cat can get sick on or my sock can get stuck to.

If I want to do all that I want to with my life, there is little room for cleaning - just for the sake of being spotless or tidy or otherwise what someone else may care dearly about. By no means am I saying that this is bad... it's just different from the way I choose to live. I have and keep alot of stuff. Most of it papers and magazines and ideas of some sort. And it litters the inside of my world, which is tiny by comparison but just part of the greater picture. Not everyone can live dust-free... some people have to... for a variety of reasons... but I am choosing from here on out... that I will no longer be ashamed to just let it go. Within reason. The trash goes out when it gets full (or when the chicken wrappings begin to make me wonder if one of my neighbors may have died) and the litter gets changed out twice a week Remnants of food containers don't grow in my vehicle but old water bottles and the occasional cigarette pack sometimes do.

Making the Time

2010-11-30T13:01:00.000-08:00

"If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that."

— Stephen King

I have made a decision. An all-out, all-in and incredibly obvious decision. I am going to allow myself to finally become engulfed by that which I love... writing and reading. I'm heading back to school for the spring semester and I'm going to start cracking the books. I'm going to devote my time to writing and reading like I have not before.

Personal training will be a side project - a hobby, if you will. I just don't love it enough to truly devote my life to it. I'm still getting certified and I'm still going to make an attempt with my family and friends as well as with the boot camp when the weather gets warm. But - otherwise, my life is going to be lived in the company of and for my first true love. Words.

Why didn't I think of this before?

I did.

And I have mentioned it.

But what I haven't done is devoted myself to it the way it needs devotion, nurturing and attention. Different projects need to be cared for like you care for a child. To make it work, you have to get to it. You have to believe it's possible and make the object of your affection grow into itself and grow into who you are within it.

Been doing alot of mental wandering lately and finding nothing but blank walls and closed doors. Time to make a change. You know the weird part? I never, ever, ever, never, ever find more peace than when I am writing or reading. It keeps me even and the world finally falls into place. I fall into place. My life falls into place on this big, round spinning ball.

Meeting Yore

2010-11-28T16:44:00.000-08:00

Like a goblin from a crypt... green with long nails... yellow and rotten with age. We see this hideous being and shiver. It hobbles towards us and sniffs around our ears. We think of nothing at all. Strangely... nothing crosses our mind. The smell is overwhelming but the truth is very real. There is a beast in front of us, around us and getting to know us. What is he trying to smell... what does she want to know? Fear keeps us in place. Fight appears to have won (you're sticking around after all) as the bladder takes flight and embarrassment trickles down our leg.

We are facing it because we have no choice. Our other alternative is merely a pitch black abyss - which may be where this thing sniffing at our lobes, our neck and our collarbone is from. We stand still. Maybe it will just go away.

Instead, it caresses our exposed arm. We should have worn a sweater tonight. This is the first and only clear thought that runs through the caverns of our minds thus far. It takes our arm, lifts it slightly and slithers behind us. Now the thing is sniffing the back of our neck. The thing is right behind us and continues to lift our arm. It steps out, ever so slightly so it can reach our fingers and adjust them for it's unholy and evil purposes. The sniffing has grown less intrusive and more calm. It has decided our future... and we have nothing we can do about it.

The sweat on our brow, the chill running through our body and the realization that our pointer finger is now fully extended. Held up gently by that yellow, rotting, broken up bit of nail at the end of this thing's finger.

We ask what it wants - but only internally. We receive the answer at the tip of both our finger and the end of the grotesque nail that holds it up. We see the light. Like the end of a needle. Tiny but real. This thing we disdain, this thing we grew cold over and scared of is merely pointing us the way to go. Ugly and real... it sees that we see and drops our arm suddenly.

Away... back to where it came. A few crunches and cracks under foot. It was awful - but it was merely a guide... and we will call it Yore.

Runaway Train

2010-11-23T09:42:00.000-08:00

My heart started racing today while driving into work. I had a quick and brief memory of a story my mom once today me about my sister. Was it a real memory or something that my mind made up? I'm not sure, I have to talk with mom. Either way, suddenly... quietly and completely an idea started to form in my mind about it.

What if?

My heart has been beating slightly above normal ever since and the story keeps developing - like a runaway train of ideas. It's fine. It's exciting and I feel like it's a gift.

I plan to spend the next several days writing this all down. I hope to have the script finished by Monday.

Out of My Head

2010-11-20T13:08:00.000-08:00

I am one of those people that would easily be described as "in my head". Yup, that's me. I'm not sure if others know it or notice it or even give a crap. But - I have to tell you... more often than not, I give myself a headache. Quite literally. I sometimes find that my jaw is clamped down hard for extended periods of time. I wouldn't go as far as to say I grind my teeth but I am probably only about one step away from doing a little damage to my enamel.

The truth about it is... I annoy myself more often than not with the seriousness with which I take so many things. There is certainly a time for seriousness and there is a time for lightness. I do enjoy thinking and forming opinions. I think everyone should do just that. Figure yourself out. I tend to believe, or like to believe - even if not fully acted upon - that life is mostly supposed to be lived in the light. Having faith in life, which is relatively simple, gets interrupted when one resides so much in their thoughts, dissections and beating the life out of, well, life.

Last night I went to dinner with Spice. We had a really good time. I was in a mood. A good mood. A light mood - a fun mood. The kind of mood where I didn't feel like tearing everything apart and figuring out exactly why I felt this way or that... I just felt like being present to the present. So - I that is what I did. I'm not sure how I did it exactly but I did. I had been feeling shaky all day about everything. Not literally shaking but shaky. Then I prayed for some lightness to enter my life. And before I knew it... there I was.

And it really did feel good.

Random Thought #25

2010-11-17T12:16:00.001-08:00

"MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood."
- from a forward

Recall

2010-11-16T13:05:00.000-08:00

"Remember your dreams" is what was said to me after my mini-rant. And remember them I did. It is so easy to go off track, to forget why your feet are planted where they are. It is so easy when you see others procure definitive change while you simply kick up dust. It is so easy when you watch them go a little further ahead without much effort. Or, maybe, the effort is more than it appears. Maybe...

Every once in a while the path much taken and the path less taken share small stretches. Sometimes it makes you wonder if the path you are on is worth it when others seem to be running ahead on their own path. Way ahead of where you are. Why do they only have to share the dry ground, not the muddy (harder to get out of) ground?

"Remember your dreams" and then it all came rushing back. It's fine. Their mud is around too. Just can't see it here. May never be able to see it - but no matter who you are - the mud will come and go and come and go. Some of us just have to wade through alot of it in the beginning so that the next stretch can be like walking on pavement.

Inside of a Miracle

2010-11-12T05:56:00.000-08:00

Miracles. They live amongst us. Every single day, we pass them on the street, we don't always know they are there but they exist. Once in a while though - we actually get to acknowledge one.

A five year old's birthday is always a joyful occasion. When it's a five year old who has beat cancer back with a stick, it is nothing short of simply amazing. With hair growing back in and a big, healthy smile on his face... he yelled "cool!" when he opened his grandmother's gift. Apparently he is into Hot Wheels now. As little boys often are.

All of my nieces and nephews are their own brand of miracle. Everything about them is simply beautiful. Seeing them head their way into the world, a little bit at a time... is both anxiety inducing but absolutely wonderful all at once. Everything growing up should be.

Today, though, reflecting on the fact that my nephew was sick, terribly sick and now has the opportunity to go on and live a new life is where the heart resides. If only we could all bounce back as quickly as he has. In all aspects of the human person. Kids are often resilient. He proves what it is to have joy at the mere thought of living. If we could bottle up just an ounce of it and give it to the world, things would certainly make their way to perfect. But - we can't so it is up to us to simply look around and embrace what we do see. Flaws and all. As my nephew has proven to me (as well as many others), you do what you have to do... and you will get to open the gifts that are in store.

Happy Birthday, cutie. Looking forward to celebrating many more.

Only the Lonely

2010-11-11T12:23:00.000-08:00

"Loneliness accepted becomes a gift leading one from a life dominated by tears to the discovery of one's true self and finally to the heart of longing and the love of God."
- Unknown

Once a month (or almost once a month) I sit across from a nun, in a small room, in a building dedicated to finding peace. "The Little Portion", it's called. The semi-converted house that is now a comfortable and relaxing place to experience massages, reiki and a host of other activities and events. For me, I visit for spiritual direction.

Guidance in things spiritual, which for me - relates to almost everything in life, if not everything. Last night I was guided by Sister to sit with the loneliness I have recently discovered. Now that I've worked at least part way through some of my anger/bitterness/unforgiveness issues, I've been feeling left with all this empty space. And I realize, in many aspects, the truth of the matter is... I want someone special to share my life with. In a way I have never felt before. Not that I have never shared my life with someone special but I am coming from a different place now, a different angle, a different way of looking at things and experiencing things.

What I want is eros. Romantic love.

While I know this is important to me, I have often and easily avoided it - whether consciously or not. It's been pretty simple, really. Go out with the wrong guys, settle for the wrong guys (albeit, briefly) or have some meaningless flings. Personally, I found myself searching for nothing but momentary fun and found little of it. (There are a few exceptions, of course - to all of this.) Have I been honest?  Yes, I have been. I never intended to get involved with anyone with the intention of it simply not working out. My desire for "fun" was genuine. And my mind, though not my proverbial heart, remained open to falling in love. I just found myself quietly not wanting to settle down to any one person for too long.  There was always an emotional piercing of fear that came with that idea.  Losing myself had become my greatest defeat in life and one that I was not willing to suffer again. So - I didn't.

Now, however, things are a little different. I'm ready to be vulnerable. I'm ready to let myself go (emotionally - I'm still working out). And, yet, now there are no real love interests in sight. Which is - gulp - ok.

My spiritual director pointed out to me that she noticed I am just sitting with my loneliness and that it is a wonderful place to be. (Not that I want to be here forever.)  She is right. I am not trying to fill it with the things I have in the past. Shopping, drinking, eating, spending money, online dating, exercising and even... possibly... medicating myself into not feeling it. Loneliness is not depression. It is a very distinct feeling and experience. Unpleasant, yes but completely normal. I have used each of these as a way to ward the underlying feeling off. Not that every time I have done or used these things, that was what was on my mind... it didn't work exactly like that either.

It is in loneliness that one can get to feel who they really are. They can see it without intent of making it different. That is, if one chooses to feel it completely and totally. Without running toward somewhere or something else.  There is a depth to it that can be unmistakable but surely there. As I said before, I do not hope to always feel it (that would be crazy) but for now, I can accept it and not follow any of the old paths. I do believe I will know when it's time to step back out into the world completely but for now my life is beckoning me in another direction. And in that direction, I will go. Alone.

Book One: Check

2010-11-10T07:34:00.000-08:00

"One part at a time, one day at a time, we can accomplish any goal we set for ourselves."

- Karen Casey, from Achievement of a Life Goal

It is a slow hill to climb. This whole studying bit. I like it but I don't love it as much as... say... writing. I would still much rather be spending my days, weeks and months helping people get fit than what I do now for a living. Writing and school on the side. So that one day - writing can take over as my source of income. Not that I won't work on it before that day comes... who knows... maybe it will come sooner... but for now, I'm studying my materials and preparing for a $200 exam that states whether I am certified or not.

This morning I finally finished the first book on my journey. I have the end of chapter notes to continue going over. I do wish I loved it just a smidge more than I do at the moment. I think this book just bored the crap out of me, to be honest. But - I had to study it. Had to get through it so I can move onto the next book and accompanying workbook.

Either way though - I've made real, discernible progress. And that is a good thing. A very good thing. I am one step closer to where I am headed. Wherever that might be. I can envision it but I do not exactly, really know what my future is going to look like. It's a curious thing, really. Each day that passes... I make progress... something new is being formed but I am not really sure what the final product is going to be. I am sure that I am not alone in this situation. Curious how it's all going to work out... hopeful that it works itself out for good... knowing that deep, down inside it will... but still unsure in some sort of way.

Happy Meals

2010-11-09T06:21:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid... oh so many years ago... (not as many as some, way more than others)... kids rode their bikes. Kids ran around outside. Kids played games like tag and jailbreak and Marco Polo when the weather was warm. Kids went sledding when the snow fell and roller skating on Fridays. Kids were active. Just like they ought to be, in my opinion.

You know what else kids were not? Obese. Sure, there was always one or two kids in the class who had extra (sometimes alot of extra) weight on them. Unfortunately, they often got the short end of the stick. They were made fun of (which was not ok) and finding friends may or may not have been easy. I felt for them. Always have. There's no reason to base your opinion on someone because of their weight. They may or may not have an eating addiction or disorder. They may have a medical condition or medication issues you are unaware of. There is simply no reason to allow weight to tie into whether or not they are a worthy person for your friendship, caring and compassion. The fact of the matter is... no matter what... no one is perfect and judging someone on their weight alone is shallow. Simple as that.

I have certainly battled with my weight a bit too. It happens. Especially as you get a little older but these days - there are problems with more and more children becoming larger than they should be. I'm not talking about a judgement on the children per say. I hate to throw it out there but much of it resides on the part of the parents. Life has become more complicated, more difficult, harder to manage and nearly impossible to "get right" - not that anyone ever has or ever will. Even saints are sinners. Childhood obesity, I would say, is a symptom of a much larger problem... it is not a singular issue with one singular answer. It is, however, an issue that can be fixed. While the overarching problems that have produced this symptom are more complicated than a mere "do this, don't do that" attitude... when it comes to this... there are options, however.

In San Francisco, the city itself is considering a ban on Happy Meals. Not only does this go against the rights of McDonald's to offer the Happy Meal... this goes against the rights of the people to make their own choices about what their children may or may not eat. If you want McDonald's to get rid of something on the menu, complain to the company - boycott the company until they comply... do not take it to a vote by city officials (the government) to decide about whether or not you have a choice in your food stuffs. This is creeping in eerily close to control of the people. Yes... we have to pay for some of the medical issues down the road due to obesity. But - there are ways to counteract that too. And, that - also - can start in childhood. Making the right choices - by choice - when it comes to maintaining your health - is the individual's responsibility - it is not the role of the government to make this decision for you.

As for parents - they need to be responsible for their children's health and well-being. Granted, you cannot make them be responsible for it but to throw it on McDonald's as though it is their fault - because they offer a toy along with unhealthy food options (which taste damn good - especially to kids) is unfair and irresponsible in and of itself. Happy Meals were first introduced in 1979... yet it has not been until relatively recently that the fast food chain has come under fire.

There are multiple options that parents have to avoid the big, nasty trap that McDonald's has set for their children. (note: sarcasm)

1) Tell your kids "no". They will not be permanently scarred because they did not get a Happy Meal once a week (or more).
2) Tell your kids "no" but allow them once in a while, as a treat, to enjoy themselves a Happy Meal. Make it clear this is a treat and not a way of life.
3) Explain the reasons that it should not be a way of life. (ie. it's unhealthy to do all the time - and you love them enough to want to give them the best possible shot at living a long and healthy life)
3) Realize that no one is forcing you to buy your kids fast food. Make them a sandwich at home. It may not be as quick and convenient but it'll be loads healthier. (Though it's hard to imagine how much time it would take to throw together a PB&J as opposed to driving to your local fast food chain.)
4) When you teach your kids to make themselves a sandwich and to slice up some apples to go along with it, you are teaching them to fend for themselves, to be responsible for themselves and to actually be more active than just jumping in the car and going through the drive-thru.
5) Send them outside to play, to run around, to work off the food (no matter where it came from - your kitchen - or Burger King's kitchen).

Is it as simple as this? Yes and no. As I said, life is tough. Balance, in this (as well as all areas) is key to a healthy life. Teaching your kids this balance can be tricky but well worth it in the long-run. Stand up for yourself - get the government out of our food choices and options by making good decisions on your own. Don't wait for someone to take away your options before making the right choice. If you want the choice of apples instead of fries: speak to the manager, write a letter - ask others to write letters too. Boycott. Granted, if you think it doesn't matter how heavy your kids are - the right choice may be something different than what I think. But - if that was the majority of what people think than we probably wouldn't be having the debate at all.

The Outside of the Garage

2010-11-08T12:38:00.000-08:00

A few times today I have started then stopped some blog ideas. The first time I did not complete it because my thoughts were certainly not all in order on the subject I was about to address (not that they always are when it comes to this particular blog) but since I was about to delve into the act and idea of "balance" in general, I feel that I should probably have some in a blog about it. Then I realized that was only a passing fancy and I deleted the beginning of that post.

Second came the blog that I began writing that sounded like so many others. I realized I was just about to begin boring myself - let alone you. So, I deleted that one after a couple paragraphs in.

Shortly after deciding to delete both of my previous options, I went back to my reading. My boring, boring medical terminology charged science book. Instead of complaining about my rut, I decided to work towards ending my rut.

Earlier today I asked my dad how his work came along yesterday. He's been working on fixing up some things around my parents' house. Something that, for some, can be an extremely gratifying experience. Working on and improving the home. He said he got some work done but the overall picture reveals that he actually got very little done. While he will keep on going and eventually begin to see some real results, at moments he said it just seems like such a big job... as if the progress he has made is none at all.

I completely concur.

A few of my friends have recently asked what I have been up to... what's going on... if I have anything to report. The answer is usually "no, nothing new". And that's because there really is very little new. Not everyone wants to hear about my emotional state and the forgiveness factor and the like when they ask "what's up?". Usually they want (understandably so) concrete answers. Like, I've lost ten pounds or I've got a date on Friday or something of that nature. (No, I don't have a date on Friday - simply an example.) So... I generally have nothing to say right now. Not at this moment... not in light of the grand scheme of my life's plan(s). Still... reading just a little more, going over material that has already been read and making my way through the book is a teeny, tiny step in the right direction. And usually that is just how it goes.

Entertaining Angels

2010-11-05T10:14:00.000-07:00

It was fifty years ago, on a hot summer day, in the deep south. We lived on a dirt road, on a sand lot. We were, what was known as "dirt poor". I had been playing outside all morning in the sand.

Suddenly, I heard a sharp clanking sound behind me and looking over my shoulder, my eyes were drawn to a strange sight! Across the dirt road were two rows of men, dressed in black and white, striped, baggy uniforms. Their faces were covered with dust and sweat. They looked so weary, and they were chained together with huge, black, iron chains. Hanging from the end of each chained row was a big, black, iron ball.

They were, as polite people said in those days, a "Chain Gang," guarded by two, heavily armed, white guards. I stared at the prisoners as they settled uncomfortably down in the dirt, under the shade of some straggly trees. One of the guards walked towards me. Nodding as he passed, he went up to our front door and knocked. My mother appeared at the door, and I heard the guard ask if he could have permission to get water from the pump, in the backyard, so that "his men" could "have a drink". My mother agreed, but I saw a look of concern on her face, as she called me inside.

I stared through the window as each prisoner was unchained from the line, to hobble over to the pump and drink his fill from a small tin cup, while a guard watched vigilantly. It wasn't long before they were all chained back up again, with prisoners and guards retreating into the shade, away from an unrelenting sun. I heard my mother call me into the kitchen, and I entered, to see her bustling around with tins of tuna fish, mayonnaise, our last loaf of bread, and two, big, pitchers of lemonade. In what seemed "a blink of an eye", she had made a tray of sandwiches using all the tuna we were to have had for that night's supper.

My mother was smiling as she handed me one of the pitchers of lemonade, cautioning me to carry it "carefully" and to "not spill a drop." Then, lifting the tray in one hand and holding a pitcher in her other hand, she marched me to the door, deftly opening it with her foot, and trotted me across the street. She approached the guards, flashing them with a brilliant smile. "We had some leftovers from lunch," she said, "and I was wondering if we could share with you and your men." She smiled at each of the men, searching their dark eyes with her own eyes of "robin's egg blue." Everyone started to their feet. "Oh no!" she said. "Stay where you are! I'll just serve you!" Calling me to her side, she went from guard to guard, then from prisoner to prisoner, filling each tin cup with lemonade, and giving each man a sandwich.

It was very quiet, except for a "thank you, ma'am," and the clanking of the chains. Very soon we were at the end of the line, my mother's eyes softly scanning each face. The last prisoner was a big man, his dark skin pouring with sweat, and streaked with dust. Suddenly, his face broke into a wonderful smile, as he looked up into my mother's eyes, and he said, "Ma'am, I've wondered all my life if I'd ever see an angel, and now I have! Thank you!" Again, my mother's smile took in the whole group. "You're all welcome!" she said. "God bless you." Then we walked across to the house, with empty tray and pitchers, and back inside.

Soon, the men moved on, and I never saw them again. The only explanation my mother ever gave me, for that strange and wonderful day, was that I "remember, always, to entertain strangers, for by doing so, you may entertain angels, without knowing."

Then, with a mysterious smile, she went about the rest of the day. I don't remember what we ate for supper, that night. I just know it was served by an angel.

By: Jaye Lewis

I Forgive You

2010-11-04T08:51:00.000-07:00

"Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future."
- Paul Boese

Working on forgiveness lately - as some or maybe all of you know. Forgiveness of one person in particular but, really, several people have shown up in my head while I have been putting my best foot forward in this area. Most of whom do not need forgiveness per say but, rather, an understanding from me. An "I'll just let it go" type of thing. And "let it go", I have begun.

In the process of trying to rewire my brain and retrain my thinking... in the process of trying to attempt the spiritual side of forgiveness as well... the mechanical side has come to light, just a little bit brighter than it was before. The "in the moment" feeling of the last week or so has been a relief. Deal with what's here and now... instead of what cannot be changed, cannot be altered, what resides in the past.

It is so incredibly easy, once hurt, bruised, battered or otherwise mistreated (whether mentally or physically) to just stay with that period of time. To just stay in that land - whether you are wanted or not - whether you even want to be there or not. It is relatively easy to replay the pain, as difficult as it is to feel because who knows what may exist for you outside the realm of what you have known. You know this territory, you know how to navigate it. If you let all of this go... get your car unstuck from the mud... where might you end up?

That, however, makes it simplistic. Fear holds me back from moving on. No... not exactly. Fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear of success, fear of whatever seems like an easy explanation. But, no, that's not it exactly. For me, it's been the fear of a lack of justice. Or what I would perceive to be justice. I wanted to see it, smell it, watch it. Not necessarily impose it myself but I kind of wanted to know that it was happening. I wanted to know that all of those things that I had been brought to believe about myself were not true... I wanted to know that others, particularly those who had disregarded, used, played with and otherwise behaved like I was less than a human who deserved an ounce of respect and real kindness, were brought to their knees too. Simply put, I wanted those people to just simply prove to me that they were unhappy. But - this didn't happen. Not that I have proof nor have I ever had proof that they are happy.

Then comes the next question - why did I want "justice" so badly?

The truth is... because the same thing that got me into some of my messes is the same thing I was trying to combat, even after the mess had exploded all over the room. Even after the mess had been cleaned up for all intensive purposes... the truth was, a blacklight would should still show the lint on the sweater. It was still there. For the same reasons I allowed the mess to get as bad as it did... why I didn't duck and run at the first sign of trouble... or the hundredth sign of trouble for that matter... I really did not know I could or that I should or that there was even a choice in the matter. How does one not know there's a choice when there is always a choice? Part of it may have been immaturity... part of it was the need/want/automatic reaction to please others (everyone but myself)... part of it, much of it was simply a lack of love for myself. Maybe if other people could love me, listen to me, hear me and maybe even react to me then maybe I would be a complete person.

I looked for the validation in many of the wrong places. I looked anywhere the wind blew me... in many, many places I should never have even gone. Which would makes sense to some... or maybe most... the validation never did come. Once in a while there was a glimmer of hope but the hope never turned into anything more.

Why did I want "justice" so badly? Because I wanted to know others were the same as me. That maybe those people... up there... weren't ever truly any better than me. Maybe they can fall down from their pedestal. Maybe I can see it so that I know, for certain, that it's not me... it's them too. Maybe if they feel shitty, then I'll feel less shitty.

All of this, I realize, is backwards thinking. First off, in many cases, I am the one who built the pedestal to begin with. My assumptions often being that the other person was more important than I am. And if they are not more important, they are more "something". My value was never diminished, it just simply never existed. Second, why shouldn't I... instead... build the pedestal up to them... look them in the eye and say "I forgive you for using my weaknesses against me... you may or may not have even known you were doing it... it really doesn't matter what your motives were or weren't. That is your problem to deal with, not mine. Not anymore. You should not have treated me badly but you did and it worked, it kept me in my place for long enough. But - I don't want that place anymore. I want to be up here, where the air is fresh and clean. I deserve to be, same as you. One day you may need a hand to get back up here, if so, let me know... I am really hoping that I will be, at that time, able to say... here let me help you up. I'm not there yet, so I hope you either don't fall or you do have someone else to help you... you probably do, as you deserve to... same as me. I would prefer we just stay out of each other's way for now, probably for good. But - I am hoping that one day I will be able to say, at least to myself, that if you ever need anything... you can come to me. For now, I can't but that's ok too. I forgive you... that's all I am really trying to say."

Ten Pounds

2010-11-03T06:53:00.000-07:00

Stall... then movement. Sweet. Ten pounds down. Granted, it's taken me alot longer than I would have liked but I can't complain. Just as long as the scale does come down, I am pleased.

Am I following a diet? No. Am I paying attention to what goes into my mouth? Yes. Am I exercising? Absolutely. Within reason. Am I making some changes to the types of food I eat? Yup. Am I enjoying all those super tiny frozen diet meals? Nope. Liquid meals? Uh-uh.

Yogurt for breakfast each morning, along with some cereal, a Luna Bar or some fruit (or fruit juice). A marinated George Foreman grilled chicken sandwich for lunch on whole wheat with lowfat cheese along with fresh lettuce and tomato, applesauce or a small salad (ok... I got a little tired of the salads so I've taken a break - hence, the no sugar added applesauce)... Mondays and Fridays lunch is tuna on whole wheat with a salad or applesauce. If I get hungry in between my meals, a snack is fine.

Dinner... well... I can have whatever I want. Though I try to make sure the sides are all veggies (preferably steamed). I do enjoy some pasta, some nights - regular pasta, not whole wheat (though for those who like whole wheat - God bless!) - without regret - with cheese on top. If I find myself hungry after dinner... light popcorn, a low-fat/low-calorie ice cream treat or flavored rice cakes (the mini cheddar cheese ones from Aldi are soooo good). Should I be getting a few more fruits and veggies? Yes, probably. I won't deny it.

After workout drink... fat free chocolate milk.

Weekend breakfast options change... whole wheat frozen waffles, whole wheat pancakes or some eggs... turkey bacon or turkey sausage on the side. Fruit juice is a definite. Fruit is the add-on that I need to pay more attention to there. It'll be easier when the summer comes. Somehow I don't enjoy fruits and salads during the winter quite as much as during the warmer months.

When I go out to eat - I get what I want. When I order in - which is not so often... I order what I want.

I think I may have finally found balance... well... closer to balance... I do still need to up the fruits and veggies a bit. And I'm not done yet (in terms of the scale) but losing 10 pounds is a relief. To see the scale at the lowest point it's been in I don't know how long made me feel good. Not just because I look better or just because I am programmed to think the extra weight is not ok. I am headed back to my most healthy and most comfortable weight. I am also headed towards a goal and my efforts are paying off. Without becoming obsessed - it's working. Healthier choices. Plain and simple.

Rusting Off

2010-11-02T06:59:00.000-07:00

Last month I wrote less blogs than I have in quite some time. Not sure if this indicates something or not. In some ways, I think it's because I am a bit more stable than I have been in a while - yet, in some ways it's because I am feeling more vulnerable than I have in a long time. Being continually angry... even if on a lower level... just feels like a friend. It feels like a form of protection. A dysfunctional one, yes but armor anyway.

Now some of that is gone. It has rusted and fallen off. Litter by the side of the road. Not a necessarily bad feeling but an empty one. There is this gigantic space in my life that needs to be filled. (And, no, I'm not talking "God sized hole" here - we're closer than we have ever been.)

Still, there is something very large missing from my life. Something I have looked for though not well... something I have started then stopped, stopped then started, something I had interest in being open to but still kept myself closed off. It's something simple yet complex. Common and uncommon all at once. It's love.

Romance, sure. But - that is not the only type I am talking about here. Friendship, uh-huh and family, of course. The more elusive for me has been where it all begins. Within. (Ahh... I feel like a new age hippie.) Moving beyond what I think the world wants to see or what others think is "right" and deciding for myself what I think is "right". Doing what I have to do and making it the way I want it. Standing my ground yet allowing others in to see what is happening. Not that I have always been close lipped, many who know me know otherwise. My defenses though tough have done me more harm than good. This armor is slowly slipping away and I'm like a cut in the open air. Open to infection but open to healing too.

Blush

2010-10-30T16:36:00.000-07:00

If you're like me, you enjoy spending time with people. Not that you mind spending time alone - sometimes that's alot of fun too. But sometimes you find yourself seeing things through new eyes. Doing, sharing and just plain being with others whom you like for one reason or another. Laughing is on the top of my list though sometimes I forget that. Sometimes I forget what it is to laugh and love and enjoy. Sometimes things are serious for a long time and you forget the goofball you really are. At least, I do.

Looking at myself, I can chuckle once a load is off and see what goofy thing I have said or done in the last week. The moments that have made me break out into a hot flash of embarrassment before I even knew what happened. When I reflect on those moments I start to see what I like about myself and the bad starts falling by the wayside. And strangely, it's in those light moments, hours or days that I can also start to see the beauty of the people around me. Any envy or negative feelings I may have about or towards others disintegrates into a small pile of rubble, waiting for the trashman to take them away on Monday morning. Bright and early Monday morning. (Or dark and early as this time of year calls for.)

I begin to appreciate again. In that appreciation comes what I admire about the people whom I spend time with. I begin to see them for what they are, what they aspire to and the wonderful things they have done or will do. I begin to see them for the bright, shining stars that they are - flaws and all - just like me. Forgiveness settles into the bones for real or imagined slights and the world is again at ease. Not perfect but at ease. After all of these things float through my head the bigger picture for my own life begins to emerge. The one that seems to reside in a fantasy but could all become more real and more fulfilling than I had originally imagined. That is - if I can keep the darker days at bay and just get down to business. If I can do what needs to be done... just as those I love have done - all different but headed somewhere.

Life stalls sometimes. I wonder if it happens to everybody. If other people see that they are not really going anywhere at the moment. That they are treading water because it seems to be the only thing they can do. When someone is battling something in the mind or several somethings for that matter - it becomes easy to let it take over. That is just where some of us have lived, I suppose. But - I want to move. I want to get it going and start on a new path, a new road, a new journey.

So... I'll get down to reading, to editing and stop the fretting. It is easier once the defenses come down, once the acceptance begins and the road begins to look a little more clear.

Thank you to some of the people around me for putting up with me when I am feeling, acting or living lousy - some of it is the medical side of things, some of it is the demons everyone has side of things and some it is also the things I do not have. But all of it is me. For better or worse I am stuck with myself all the time so I mine as well get it over with and get down to doing the things I truly enjoy.

Redwood

2010-10-27T18:15:00.000-07:00

At times, hypercritical. At other times, hypersensitive. And even still at other times, incredibly lonely. Broken up, broken down and lying like a puzzle on the floor - just dumped out of the box and nearly impossible to put together because the entire puzzle is all one color. Gray. One shade, one hue, one blank sheet of next to nothingness.

How easy it would be to get distracted from this puzzle. What's there to do instead? That's when you look around and see nothing of note. You are stuck in a box, hanging from a redwood somewhere in California. Thing is, you are not even aware you are in California... as far as you know you are in New Jersey or Alabama or in the Sahara for all it matters. You are stuck in a box after all. Stuck in a box with a puzzle that will take some time to put together. You pick up the box it came out of, looking at the cover in hopes that something might stand out. Nothing does. Nothing except the words "1000 pieces".

Fuck.

Better get to work. Somehow you know that once this task is done, you will get out of the box and you will move on. Where to start though? How on Earth will this be accomplished? It may take days, weeks, months or even years. You try one piece at a time and match those pieces. Then you realize there are no edges to this puzzle. How could that be? You can't even get the border together easily? What the hell?

Ok. Random pieces will be sticking out the sides when you are all finished. Ok.

Because nothing is perfect after all. All the healing in the world may give you peace but still some things will remain amiss. Some things may never go away completely but that's alright - that's what makes us human. In many ways that's what makes us truly lovable and snuggable. Even when the ugly is taken out and put in it's rightful place - somewhere in the middle of this odd puzzle lying on the floor in front of you - somewhere in the completed picture. You become soft because you know what it is to not only face the pain but to move beyond it and make it a piece of art. Modern art, sure but art nonetheless.

Once you get down from your tree you will be able to look up and see something magnificent... what was your home... what was your jail will no longer be a mystery but it will still be mysterious. Hauntingly so. You may even find yourself thanking your giant friend, the one who held you up through the lightning and the thunder and you will begin to realize it was no jail at all... it was an oppurtunity to figure it all out.

The Seed

2010-10-21T08:05:00.000-07:00

“The stupid neither forgive nor forget; the naive forgive and forget; the wise forgive but do not forget.”

- Thomas S. Szasz

The other day I mentioned that if I can laugh about it, I am over it. Whatever "it" is, it simply slides into the world of eye rolling and joke making. However - upon further reflection - there will be some things that I may never laugh over but I can still get over. Some things in life do not ever deserve actual laughter. Some things do deserve righteous anger but do not deserve hate - once they have passed through the world of feelings and they have come out the other side. Which, in my mind, is somewhere in the atmosphere - having dissolved into the light.

Yet, there is a concrete place where things like these live. They are always in your memory. Recalled easily but hopefully they are not recalled unwillingly too often. Everyone has them lodged somewhere in their brain. Forgive, yes. Forget, hardly. At least not for most of us. Would it be nice to forget? Maybe but maybe not so much. One would be doomed to relive experiences again and again and again if we did not remember "what happened last time". Which is not to say, of course, that many of us do not have to make the same mistakes time and again before we even realize our mistakes. Sometimes the oops is bad enough to only have to live through it once. Sometimes you have to repeat the pattern for years before you start to notice that you have been down this road before and it's not in the best of neighborhoods.

Anger is not a bad thing. It is simply a signal that something in your world is wrong - sometimes very wrong. Often, we get tangled up in it for too long and that is when it becomes bitterness and, yes, hate. In my opinion, bitterness is actually a side effect of hate. When hate stirs too long in the soul, it turns into a generalized bitterness that tastes too much like lemon juice living in your veins. You become your hate - slowly but surely - it takes over and becomes a very deep part of who you are as a whole. Do not think that others cannot see it either. Sometimes they may not be aware of what they are seeing but it's there like a flashing light above your head.

Anger can be good. Just as a simple seed planted in the ground is good. There is the hope that new life will grow from it but sometimes that life is not meant to be. If the seed is tended and watered and cared for... it may grow up big, strong and beautiful. If the seed is not taken care of - sometimes it grows into something gnarly and sad to look at. Sometimes it grows into nothing at all. Which way will you let your anger go? Will you allow it to be the seed of change and eventual beauty or will you allow it to be the seed of nothing worthwhile? It is totally up to you.

Random Thought #24

2010-10-20T12:41:00.000-07:00

"While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and instinctively swerved to avoid it....thanks Mario Kart."
- from a forward

(Ahh... drinking MarioKart... now that was a game...)

Venom

2010-10-18T08:53:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you carry things with you for a long time. You don't mean to, you just do. You mean to just let it all go - let the past be the past and move on.

Then you try to go to sleep at night - and things creep in. They enter your mind and you try to forget - sometimes successfully, sometimes not so much. Eventually, those things that slip through your lax night filter take residence in your mind, body and soul. They start to become a part of who you are. Slowly, something inside of you begins to rot. No matter how much work you put into other areas, that rotten spot starts to spread. A bad apple, a definite spiritual damper.

Sometimes it's not only at night but at other times too... when you're driving alone... when you're washing dishes... when your walking down the hall at work. Some memories just do not stay buried. You can't help it and that's ok. It's your mind/spirit/soul trying to alert you to something. Something that's amiss inside of you. Something that needs to dissolve in the light. First, though, you MUST bring it out of the dark. This task requires not only speaking of it to those who are willing to listen but also figuring out what you can't figure out about it. Why did that happen to me? What is so wrong with me that the behavior of another party toward me was ok with them (let alone - me)? Why have I grown mean - and callous - and hard inside? Are the two connected? They have got to be.

And eventually you begin to see - they are.

If I can laugh about it while remembering it - I know I'm over it. I'll never forget per say but I can let it go. Some things were just SO stupid of other people that you are not scarred... you are just stuck in eye rolling mode... you tell other people certain things and you just end up laughing. Still - there are those other memories - the ones where you don't laugh. They are the ones doing you harm.

There was a time - a very long time - when I was less critical than I am now. Much less critical. Then stuff happens and you find yourself growing a much deeper resentment toward not only those who hurt you but anyone who reminds you of those who hurt you. For me, I find myself picking apart men - sometimes in a very cruel way - looking at their flaws and deciding on that basis that not only was I not into them (as if simple rejection is not enough)... I would choose to hate them as well. I would find the little things and pick at that like a scab. Not so much to them but in my heart. Some things are funny, yes. And there is nothing to say that the story won't make me chuckle with my girls but there is no reason that I need to find every reason in the book to dislike them. Unless that's the only way I know how to deal with inflicting the same pain that has been inflicted on me.

Is it exactly the same? No. Not in most ways, really. But - in some ways - sadly, yes. Am I purposefully inflicting pain when I reject? No. I do feel bad - most of the time (there are always exceptions). Will I string them along and drag it out and keep an eye on them and use them for all I can get? No. It's not worth the free dinner. Will I use them just to know I have a backup plan? Hell, no. They deserve better, I deserve better.

Still... there's something to be said for my scab-picking. There's something to be said for the fact that I cannot just let it go at the pure simplicity that I am not digging them because they eat their peas a little funny. (One at a time, really?) I need to justify my rejection and turn it around on them. At least internally.

Will I laugh about the peas? Yes. Probably. Will I laugh about other things to? Yes, I will. But do I need to turn that annoyance into actual hate? No, I do not. Can I maybe start to see the good things too? And learn to mention those along with the peas? Sure. I can try. Because there is no reason I need to turn my venom around on those who haven't hurt me in order to get back at the ones who have.

Working toward forgiveness is a process. Recognizing my own behaviors and how they are related to my feelings helps me to understand maybe a little of where the offender came from. I'll never understand all of it but maybe - in the long run there was nothing inherently wrong with me - maybe all the pain inflicted was solely based on them fighting what they could not see.

Off Seroquel

2010-10-14T07:31:00.000-07:00

Riding high amongst the waves
I can feel Like I
Have a soul that has been saved
I can feel like I
Put away my early grave
- Amongst the Waves, Pearl Jam

Yesterday a few people asked me how I was feeling and others just listened to me rattle on about it regardless of whether or not they asked. Well - really - it was only two people who heard me rattle on about it. Both very good friends.

Getting off Seroquel.

It's like coming out of a coma. An emotional, cloudy, physically uncomfortable coma. Ok... maybe I should liken it to a really long hangover. That would probably be more like it. One where I spent half of my time unconscious.

Having done a little reading up on what others are saying about the Seroquel world, it seems I am not alone. Stomach issues, weight gain that is not fully explained even with the extra hunger I felt (which may not have been hunger at all much of the time - it may have actually been acid) and cannot be lost,an excessive need for sleep and completely dibiliatating days on the couch here and there were the physical sides of it. The mental/emotional side - well... it sometimes got pretty ugly.

Meanwhile - after one day off the full dose (still taking a smidge to help me sleep) I feel like my world has been returned to me. I feel alive again and free. The weird part is not even realizing how bad a medication is making you feel. When it starts slowly and then the symptoms begin to increase as the dosages do, it almost seems natural. You fail to see the correlation until one day you realize something in your life is just not working. Something big. Then you say... let's put our finger on it. Preferably to your doctor.)

Twice in my life I found myself in a particular kind of rut. Not that I have only been in two... but twice I came to a place where all I could do was sit down (or lay down) and say "something about me is different than nearly everyone else... something is wrong... what is it?"

One of those times was a few years ago when I first approached the doctor about getting medicated for the first time in 10 years. The second was just recently when the weight just wouldn't come off, the studying came to a near stop (imagine: when you almost completely stop at a stop sign but then just sort of roll through, foot on the brake but not pressing down all the way), the aparment is a disaster, credit card balances have taken a leap (though new clothes really were needed), your job is completely intolerable because you see no way out and your love life is DOA (as so delicately put by The Rembrandts). Emotionally - well - everything just stopped being clear anymore. And yelling at people had become a regular occurance. Not like me at all.

Did I mention that aggitation is another noted side effect of Seroquel? I'm talking on the packaging kind of noted. Same as weight gain. Both of which I knew about but simply chose to ignore and in some ways - disbelieve.

Yesterday I felt great. Today too. Hopefully this time it sticks - at least for a good, long while. (If not for good.) This is not to say that I am totally down on Seroquel or that I am going to trash it. For some people, I'm sure it's a Godsend. I mean that quite literally. I'm sure it can be an answer to prayers. It was for me - at first - when the dosages were still small. Even if it became a nightmare later... it was something I was incredibly thankful for until it's time ran out.

Rescues

2010-10-13T12:42:00.000-07:00

Honestly, I was going to write my blog about how good I'm feeling, blah... blah... blah. But - after watching several of the Chilean mine rescues, I just have no interest in writing a blog about my medication.

We're getting to watch 33 miracles today. Right now... as I'm posting this... we're up to 21 miracles the world has witnessed. Now, the nay sayers might disagree... that this was all luck. Me - I'm pretty sure prayers played some part in it.

Life is a beautiful thing sometimes... even on the news.

Starting Tonight

2010-10-12T11:15:00.000-07:00

So, it begins again. I'm starting from (almost) scratch and I'm hoping it'll work well. I got my new prescription today and having it gives me a sense of hope I haven't had in a while. Am I sure it's going to work perfectly? Not so much... but I am hopeful that it will. That maybe this weight will finally start to budge and that I can start to feel a bit more like me again. Turns out that Seroquel does, in fact, cause metabolic changes that very well could be contributing to why the weight is just not going anywhere. I also happen to know - from experience - that it sometimes increases the appetite like crazy. Usually when it wasn't working in other regards also.

The new medication is not a major sedative like Seroquel so I'll still be taking just a bit of that to help me sleep at night. I look forward to maybe - just maybe waking up naturally again. The only times I have been able to pull that off was on vacation and while in West Virginia. Even then, though, it wasn't every day - not by a long shot. To feel rested for once (hey - I don't have kids to explain it) may be pretty neat. Being able to wake up and go to the Farmer's Market on Saturdays... for me was only a dream. (One of my smaller ones...) But this Saturday it may actually be a reality. Waking up simply because the sun is shining in my window - how freaking awesome would that be?

I'll let you know though - only five weeks until my levels on the new stuff are where we're aiming for. Only five weeks until things may really begin to start getting better.

Stripper Names in the Real World

2010-10-08T10:17:00.000-07:00

When you hear certain names you sometimes get an immediate impression. Names like, say, Candi. Then - when you actually see the person you find yourself surprised that their boobs are normal sized, that their hair is not platinum blond and they are not wearing six inch heels with a super short skirt. When you are told that your new therapist has such a name... you kind of wonder who's going to be shaking your hand when you meet them, who's going to greet you in the lobby and who's going to be listening to your innermost workings. Reminding yourself that Candice is a perfectly respectable name... you try to talk yourself out of stereotyping and just prepare for the pleasant surprise of someone new entering your life.

I am really glad that was my thought process because she is completely awesome and it left me room to laugh at myself - which I need to be able to do for a good experience in therapy. Not that I plan to insult her by telling her my original thoughts on her name.

By the end of the session she was saying that working with me is going to be fun. Something about that made me feel pretty damn good. At least I'm not a drag for them. I know my last therapist enjoyed working with me. I am also pretty sure, just based on this one hour session that we are going to do good work together and maybe once and for all... I can get rid of "the face".

Million Piece Puzzle

2010-10-07T10:44:00.000-07:00

At 33 he was concerned that he would never face postseason play. His career is limited. Young, yes, but pitchers don't have an arm that will last them forever. The rotater cuff only lasts for so long - even if throwing a baseball is excellent exercise for it. Even excellent exercise has it's limits.

Last night, here in the Philly area (and many in Cincinnati too) we watched a 54 year old record matched on the road to the World Series. I, for one, could barely contain myself. I had to sit silent and enjoy the moments after the game ended so as not to burst into tears. He called it a dream come true. One can only imagine the magnitude of gratitude he probably felt or is still feeling today. It was amazing. Nothing short of light and love on the field.

A few years ago I had a friend mention that "everyone has faith in something". I wonder if this is true. I wonder if that's what sustained Halladay last night as he made his way to his last pitch. I wonder if it was faith. Whether it was faith in his ability, his arm and/or fate. (Or a higher power - of course. Believing in fate in many ways implies belief in someone or something much bigger than ourselves.)

In recent weeks, I have found myself not so focused, not so great, not so loving and not so happy or nice. But - in the most recent of days I have found myself very focused, very loving, very happy and rather nice in both mind and spirit. Something I almost began forgetting how to be. Nice may be a weak adjective but it's still a very complete one at times. Something inside of me clicked while down in West Virginia and I've been carrying it around with me ever since. It's something very simple though not so simple - something I do not really have to understand but I would like to understand. It is simple, easy and quiet faith. The kind that whispers in your ear that it will all be alright.

Mason Cooley once said "Faith moves mountains, but you have to keep pushing while you are praying." I feel like I get it. I just have to do what I am supposed to do and it will come. Just a little work here and a lot of work there, building a million piece puzzle, one piece at a time. Meanwhile - others are doing the same - whether by accident or on purpose and we will meet somewhere in the middle. Somewhere where faith truly resides and dreams do come true.

Halladay would not have been able to have his dreams come true last night without the help of his teammates and the other team's inability to hit the ball. Not to mention all who have helped both him and those around him during this series along the way. And, of course, fate... (which I personally do believe in - which is probably no surprise to anyone). Still - there is something to be said for Roy himself. The practice, the repitition - the mentality that he could in fact kick some ass if put in the right situation - and the strength to keep going even when it seemed he would never get to shine.

Laying Down the Tracks

2010-10-05T18:29:00.000-07:00

Signora, between Austria and Italy, there is a section of the Alps called the Semmering. It is an impossibly steep, very high part of the mountains. They built a train track over these Alps to connect Vienna and Venice. They built these tracks even before there was a train in existence that could make the trip. They built it because they knew some day, the train would come.

- Under the Tuscan Sun

The truth is I had a GREAT weekend. I was out of the area, out of my head and enjoying life, the moment, the stories and my loved ones. I spent the weekend in West Virginia doing a few different things. I spent time with my Pop-pop and with my mom. I did alot of driving, alot of listening, just a little talking, a little reading, some eating, some visiting with my beloved, some Greek food (no, not in West Virginia), and some book browsing at a used bookstore.

I also did alot of thinking. Strangely, the real thinking came as I watched a woman on stage, playing her harp beautifully. This wouldn't normally be my sort of thing but she did get my brain flowing close to "right". I read her bio on the program and I listened to her speak between songs. Some about her, some about the songs and other random facts like how way back when - in Scotland - your debtors could take almost everything from you but if you played the harp... they couldn't take your tuner. This was prohibited legally because if you couldn't tune your harp you couldn't make any money to pay your debtors back.

I got out some paper while I listened and started to jot down ideas of what I would ask her if I could interview her. What I would ask anyone who had been willing to just simply follow their passion as she dutifully did. She started out in Cleveland, Ohio, after all and most people run from West Virginia... they don't usually migrate there. And then I had an idea. I won't be sharing this idea but needless to say, it's part of something I have been searching for over the last however many years I began searching ideas of what I could write about. I've never wanted to be straight fiction or non-fiction but a bit of both. I found myself not really day dreaming but critically thinking about how I could make this idea happen. I'm still thinking...

But - there is a big part of me that simply needs to start preparing and start waiting for my train to come. I need to be patient. (Don't most of hate the "p" word.) I need to lay down the tracks but I also need to expect that one day, in some way, as long as the groundwork is there... my train will come. It may feel four hours late but I'll be waiting on the platform with my bags packed, ready to wave my old life goodbye.

Back to the Drawing Board

2010-09-29T12:00:00.000-07:00

"I've fallen down but I'll rise above this"
- Rise Above This, Seether

I decided to write it all down as a narrative. Maybe not every little, last detail but the overall effect of it all on me and what the general circumstances were. In the course of doing so, I recalled the first time I felt inferior to someone and how that feeling has persisted with me to this day. Not only with her but with so many others too. Strange part is how I keep going back - or sticking around - to feel it again. Over and over. It's right there on those pages. How I keep myself in situations in which I do not rise above. Strange how the subconscious works to keep you down, if that is what you have usually known.

This is not a pity party, just an acknowledgement. And I will take each issue and beat it to death. One at a time. I mean, a merciless but complete death - if I can. I've read that I need to acknowledge, mourn my losses and move on. I just have to figure out exactly how this gets done without annoying the crap out of everyone around me or alienating myself in the process. All of my major issues reside on those pages... there are things I do not recall but what I do recall, ain't so pretty.

Maybe I can expel it through writing (no, not all here). Maybe that's my natural defense. God gave me the ability for a reason. I hope it means I'll be selling my work eventually. But, for now... I'm ok with this. I'm ok with using it for my own personal means... until the losses are just mere memories... memories that no longer cloud my thinking or make me feel like there's something lurking, waiting... hunting.

Last night I had a terrible nightmare that someone was in my apartment. When I woke up, I was convinced of it for quite some time. I just lay there eyes open, listening and waiting. Frozen until I fell back asleep. The truth is... there is something lurking outside my door, something in the dark. Can I continue to let it get at me? Well, that's totally up to me. Will I? I hope not.

And what led me down this road? Envy. To be honest. I see how others are out in the world. Some of the people I love to spend time with. I see and feel a difference between them and me. It's not jealousy, mind you. Just simply me noticing how at peace they appear to be with who they are... that they are who they are... that they are willing to present that person to the world. Which is also not to say that I never do. I have fun when I'm out with my girls (and the few guys I have remained close with). And those who are close enough to me know the real me. To make this clear... it's not that I hide myself exactly... I just would like to work through the stuff that causes me to be stuck sometimes (sometimes mid-sentence) and I would like to feel objective about the past. It is what it is after all.

Guess what it all comes down to is simple... I've got more work to do. I'm sending my ass back to therapy. I may have to start all over with someone else but it'll be worth it. I really hope it'll be worth it. I had never felt so good as when I was going there regularly. Now it's been months but things just aren't going the way they had been. And I have simply uncovered a few things that run amok in my brain just a little (or way) too often.

8 Gifts

2010-09-27T14:07:00.000-07:00

THE GIFT OF LISTENING

But you must REALLY listen.

No interrupting, no daydreaming, no planning your response. Just listening.

THE GIFT OF AFFECTION

Be generous with appropriate hugs, kisses, pats on the back and handholds. Let these small actions demonstrate the love you have for family and friends.

THE GIFT OF LAUGHTER

Clip cartoons. Share articles and funny stories. Your gift will say, "I love to laugh with you".

THE GIFT OF A WRITTEN NOTE

It can be a simple "Thanks for the help" note or a full sonnet. A brief, handwritten note may be remembered for a lifetime, and may even change a life.

THE GIFT OF A COMPLIMENT

A simple and sincere, "You look great in red", "You did a super job" or "That was a wonderful meal" can make someone's day.

THE GIFT OF A FAVOR

Every day, go out of your way to do something kind.

THE GIFT OF SOLITUDE

There are times when we want nothing better than to be left alone. Be sensitive to those times and give the gift of solitude to others.

THE GIFT OF A CHEERFUL DISPOSITION

The easiest way to feel good is to make other feel good.

Authors Details: Unknown Author

Desserts is Stressed Backwards

2010-09-23T15:07:00.000-07:00

Back into the world again, my friend. I have spent the last five weeks holed up in my apartment Monday through Thursday in order to exercise, exercise, exercise. And my body has changed. Strangely, though, as I have previously mentioned my weight loss has been rather small. I'm losing but it's definitely at the slowest pace I have ever encountered. It's been frustrating. Not to say I'm not pleased with the body changes regardless of the lack of scale changes, I am. Still, it'd be nice to see the scale come down.

I think I have been taking the wrong approach to all this. I think I finally (accidentally) figured out what I have been doing wrong. I think I have stressed my body out both physically but mostly mentally (which translates into physically)to the point that I was sabotaging myself.

In the past week I have gone from watching what I eat to the point that it was bordering on obsession (mostly because I was so freaking hungry that I couldn't pay attention to much else) to going ahead and satisfying my hunger pangs. And guess what... go ahead... guess. My scale has not gained anything. In fact, if I am predicting correctly... tomorrow, in my "official" weekly weigh-in, I predict I will have lost a little more. I didn't fall off the dietary wagon on purpose, it was by accident. But - I'm kind of glad I did. It made me think... maybe I have been going about this just a little too fanatically.

I have turned down offers to hang with my friends (though working until 7:30 each night does not help this either) and I have veered away from going out at all. Well, with all the mental cloudiness that was going on, I could not catch focus enough to stay on top of things quite the same way. And it has paid off after all. Not just on the scale but also in the way I am feeling.

Yes, I would like to go out during the week again. Yes, I would like to eat something a little more interesting than a few crumbs several times a day. This is not an announcement that I will be going back to all my bad habits. And when I'm on the late shift at work I will still be taking alot more "me" time. But - when I go back to days I will not and can not go to staying alone all the time. I am a naturally very social creature. Not having that for the last five weeks has been a bit much for me. Life is too short to spend too much of it like that. I will not be going out every night (can't afford that since OT has been slashed) but I can afford to go out sometimes. If anything, I can't afford not to.

Bloodwork: Check

2010-09-22T16:13:00.000-07:00

My thought process (though cloudy as of late) finally feels down to Earth today. Still getting agitated just a little too often. Still had to apologize three times today for raising my voice in the workplace. Makes me feel a little like a lunatic but hopefully I can manage to feel even like I do right now a little more often.

I wrote down my goals. Just trying to figure out where I'm going. Besides on some trips. (Hopefully.)

Finally got back to some studying. And I'll get back on the workout train tonight after work. I've got a few other things planned for the future. I'll mention them in time. Either way, nice to see them all written down so that I can figure out how to get to my goals instead of just floundering about.

Got my bloodwork today. I'll call my doctor tomorrow to reschedule an earlier appointment than the one I had. Things are going to get better soon. This is something I'm really hoping.

Messy Bed

2010-09-21T20:54:00.000-07:00

Monday was a bad day. I could barely move. Avoiding the mirror in the bathroom became a major objective on my part. I didn't even consider brushing my hair and I stayed in my pajamas all day. I was at the point of functioning at that super low level that those who have never actually had to fight depression (not the "blues") simply do not understand. Rightfully and thankfully so. There's no thinking straight... in fact, there's barely thinking. There's no reasoning and no fighting it, you just collapse. In almost every possible way. I couldn't even cry if I had wanted to because I just felt nothing at all.

It's been coming for quite some time. And while today was better, it still wasn't great. I have been pretty awful to be around for quite some time now. Maybe not at every passing moment but often enough that I have isolated myself in the office and a bit more than is good for me outside of the office.

Don't get me wrong... exercise is great and I have enjoyed it but I need to reach some balance with it. I need to reach some balance in almost every area of my life. My eating has been the only real balance I have managed to get right. And needless to say... that went out the window too... at least for the last two days.

Tomorrow I go to get bloodwork done. That will be the first step in finding out if it's something besides my medication and those parts of my life that I am not crazy about. I know that some of this is situational but much of it is chemical. When you know what you've got, you know when it's going wrong. Make no mistake... I had a great weekend. But - the rest of the time, there's been a whole bunch of ugly going on.

The fact is I have to accept the reality that my medication is simply no longer working. At least not completely. I can't think straight, I've had suicidal thoughts and I have just been a complete and total bitch to too many of the people around me.

It would be a lie to say I'm not scared. The truth is, I'm terrified. I have never switched medications since starting on the Seroquel. It's been a few years. And now it's time for me to try something new. I know that's where this is headed. I can look forward to getting back on track again but the time in between is just a frightening thought to me. What's withdraw going to be like? What side effects will I have with the new stuff? Is this going to improve my life or make it worse?

Still, something's gotta give. I've been in pretty shaky shape for several months. I need some changes to take place because I do not like who I have become. (And neither do most of those who are around me regularly.) Do I still think my semi-ruts (I am trying to actively change those parts of my life I do not like - though some of those efforts are currently stalled) are contributing? Absolutely. I know the outside changes that need to be made. But - I don't think I can realistically change them in a concrete way until the inside changes have been made.

One thing that keeps running through my head is "messy bed... messy head" (shout-out to Spice on that one). My bed hasn't been made since the first month of the summer. (Not that I have ever made my bed every day.) Still - it says something to me - something that is very loud and clear.

Random Thought #23

2010-09-17T12:22:00.000-07:00

"How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and
smile because you still didn't hear what they said?"
-from a forward

Take Two and Call Me In the Morning

2010-09-16T15:05:00.000-07:00

I haven't been writing much as of late. I realize this. Not that I think anyone is wondering where I went. Just haven't had all that much to say. My world has been mostly about my makeover. Which is not exactly exciting to anyone else... I don't think.

So, one area I'm looking to makeover is some of my relationships. Or lackthereof, I suppose. Basically - this is how it's got to go. I want my relationships to be a two-way street. You reach out to me, I reach out to you. And vice versa. There needs to be a little give and take. From both sides. Sadly, I make myself feel the slight sting of rejection from time to time by asking (in a blanket statement) if my friends want to join me for this, that or the other thing. The good friends get back to me. The not so good friends tend to just ignore the emails I send. While I can understand missing them or forgetting to respond from time to time... each and every time definitely sends me the message I think I'm supposed to be getting.

"Don't bother asking me to hang out... I don't want to hang out with you... to the point that I'm not even going to react to your invitation."

I wasn't aware that the people I knew got so many invitations on such a regular basis that they simply can't get back to me because they're swamped.

Ok... I don't believe that. I'm sure there are varied reasons why they don't get back to me. I'm absolutely sure of it. Those who get a pass - married with kids. I am well aware that they usually can't go for one reason or another... whether it be money or lack of babysitters or being just plain old tired. They may, also, just simply want to be home with their favorite people... their kids. While I still would appreciate a word or two of "sorry, can't make it because...", I don't really mind not hearing back from them. Hence, the "pass". Those who do not get a pass... people who forget they have friends because they've found a special friend... a special someone... a romantic partner. I have a few friends who only come around when that area is down and out for them. Seriously? Still? We're not 16 anymore...

Recently I read a quick blurb about how taking an OTC painkiller can help dull the pain of social rejection (because the area of the brain that is affected during social rejection is also affected by this particular pain killer). Which painkiller is it? Acetaminophen. However - just yesterday I read an article on how OTCs can be dangerous if taken too often. While my feelings of social rejection are simply not often enough to warrant worry about the damage taking Tylenol will cause me... I still think the smart move is to simply stop asking instead of risking the side effects of pain medication.

(No, I wasn't really going to take the Tylenol for this kind of thing.)

But, really, folks - all it takes is the occasional "hello", "hiya" or "howya". This is not complicated. As for the invites... "sorry, I can't make it" is all you have to say. If I'm not worth this to you... then why did I even bother?

The simple answer is... because you were worth it to me.

How About...

2010-09-14T16:08:00.000-07:00

How about... I start treating myself like I'm worth something?

How about... I not get upset with myself for buying the cutest $60 boots ever.

How about... life is too short to keep worrying about the things that don't really matter to me.

How about... I try to travel, teach, read, write and love.

How about... that love is not just for others but for myself as well.

How about... love for myself means taking care of oneself.

How about... everything else is just extra... at least to me.

A Different Kind of Lonely

2010-09-10T14:45:00.000-07:00

Yeah, If you're going through hell
Keep on moving, face that fire
Walk right through it
You might get out
Before the devil even knows you're there

- If You're Going Through Hell, Rodney Atkins

When I started this blog a few years ago... I was looking for a way to exorcise some of my demons. Mostly the ones related to my disorder and all of it's varied symptoms. It was a way for me to talk about it freely and openly for the first time in my life. It was about me learning what I could to help myself and then, well, helping myself. I'm not sure if I was trying to help anyone along the way but maybe I did... maybe I didn't. Maybe it has at least entertained, if nothing else.

But - rather quickly - along the way I began to change focus a bit. Not on purpose, just by way of evolving. (Which is, in general, everyone's main job in life... whether or not they do it.) As my mother once said "if the medication is working, you don't think about being sick". She was right. And more often than not... I have found this to be the case.

Lately, though, I have been struggling quite a bit. It just so happens that today and yesterday have been good days but before that... let's just say I was feeling pretty low. I think the only reason I moved at all was due to my exercise schedule as of late. I was treating people bad... being argumentative and defensive. I even rolled my eyes at Biff early in the week. This is not like me one bit. I do not like that person. The person that says (by her actions) "I'm hurting on the inside so you should too." This is not the reality of the person I know I am but this is the person I was being.

Where's all the ugly coming from? Besides the fact that I really, really, really dislike my job and haven't felt ok with it since I got back from vacation back in June... it is, very simply, my disorder flaring up. Sleep is of the utmost importance with bipolar disorder... we need it to be on schedule, on time and very regular. Rotating shifts is a bitch but mostly I have been noticing that my sleep just hasn't been as good as I am used to. I didn't recall until earlier this week that my doctor had provided me with a little extra help when I need it. Meant mostly for my PMSing... I have some extra sleep help waiting for me in the form of a pill. When I sleep well... things are under control.

In the last couple weeks I have found myself lonely. Feeling like I have no one to talk to when I'm feeling low has been pretty uncomfortable. I'm not asking to go on and on about it but it helps when others acknowledge that it is a real and legitimate issue. That it is what it is but that it is, for some of us, a real and actual problem. That when the brain goes dark (from what I have read... brain scans show a slower rate of electrical impulse for the depressed person than the average person) there is little to nothing that I can do besides try to get my sleep, exercise, etc, etc. Sometimes, though, I need to be able to freely express all the shitty stuff that's going through my mind without judgement. If for no other reason than to get it out and maybe for a little pick-me-up from those who are actually willing to listen. Anyone who really knows me knows that I am not a naturally negative person - it's only when my moods swing downwards. Which can happen, unfortunately, at almost any time. But - it is usually at it's worst around "that time of the month". Medication is a blessing but it is not a catch-all.

There are different types of loneliness in this world. Having an issue that people do not want to hear about, let alone discuss at all, can leave someone feeling very outcasted at a time when that may be an emotion they simply can not handle very well. Trying to tell someone who's mood swings are an actual medical issue not to have those issues is like trying to tell an epileptic not to have a seizure. Telling them not to is not going to stop it.

(Neat little fact... my medication, Seroquel, was first designed for epilepsy.... and is now used for mental disorders... kind of gives you the hint that the brain really is biologically affected in disorders such as mine.)

There is no cure for what I have but there is maintenance. Which I am really big into. Part of me going into personal training is so that I can move around all day. Just so happens that I love to do that anyway. God is giving me a provision mixed with a passion to help others.For this, I am blessed. I feel as though I am actually just taping into what is being provided. And all of my other hopes and dreams will come along too, if I just keep the path. God never promised us that everything will always be ok and we each have our issues to deal with - that which we are responsible for as adults. Doesn't mean we can't complain once in a while... doesn't mean that negative thoughts make us a crappy person or a less than person... just means that when all is said and done and you come out the other side... you are smiling and know that you just conquered the beast at least for a little while. Most medical issues have two sides to them... the blessing and the curse. The curse in mine? Well, that's obvious. The blessing? Knowing that I have what it takes deep, down inside to make it through... even when my mind is telling me to just go ahead and end it all. Fighting that urge can be quite a feat all on it's own.

Life keeps providing me with oppurtunities to adapt and overcome. For this... I am grateful and less than lonely when all is said and done.

With or Without the Yogurt

2010-09-09T10:00:00.000-07:00

So... this recipe actually calls for some plain Greek yogurt. Turns out that I am not a fan of plain Greek yogurt. However - if you are... have a 1/4 to 1/2 cup of yogurt with this. Otherwise - it's still a tasty twist on getting one of your five-a-day.

1 medium banana, split down the middle, longways
1 tbsp (or so) natural peanut butter
1 tbsp Wheat Germ
Honey

Spread the peanut butter on one side of the sliced banana. Sprinkle with the Wheat Germ and place the two slices on top of each other like a sandwich. Cut into small slices and drizzle with honey.

Yummy and slightly more filling than a banana alone.

Four Pieces of Plastic

2010-09-08T09:41:00.000-07:00

One of my credit cards now lives in the garbage. It took more than one minute to get myself to chop it up. Not really sure why. I shouldn't have an attachment to the piece of plastic but, for some reason, it appears that I do. What a strange thing to be addicted to. I considered freezing it but decided against it. I have no desire for that. Somehow, it still won't seem "fixed" if I do that. My attachment to it needs to be killed.

I need to not even have the option to use it at all. Which, now, I definitely do not. Feels good. Gotta admit.

Another step in the right direction.

One Down

2010-09-04T14:09:00.000-07:00

Chapter One: Check

Anatomy: Check

Ana and I are finally make real, measurable progress. For that, we are grateful. It may only be the first book but it's definitely something.

Dust If You Must

2010-09-03T07:11:00.000-07:00

Dust if you must,
but wouldn't it be better to paint a picture, or write a letter, bake a cake, or plant a seed.

Ponder the difference between want and need.

Dust if you must, but there is not much time, with rivers to swim and mountains to climb! Music to hear, and books to read, friends to cherish and life to lead.

Dust if you must,
but the world's out there with the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair, a flutter of snow, a shower of rain, this day will not come round again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind, old age will come and it's not kind. And when you go, and go you must, You, yourself, will make more dust!

Authors Details: 'Dust if You Must' Unknown Author