Black Girl At Large

Total Knock Out or DIY: Haterz Gonna Hate

2011-11-07T18:39:00.000-05:00

My new thing is to not let other people get under my skin- to, if I have to "wash that man/woman/those people" right out of my hair - those people who like lice are determined to to get in there, burrow in and stay for the long haul, sucking out my precious nutrients. I've got to figure out a nice way, in effect, to be a b**ch. Maybe a shirt that says I'm not as young or as nice as I look- to those who doubt my professional abilities or overestimate my naivete. This has always been a problem for me- I'm young, nice and usually have a position of responsibility. Here's the problem for others-those who are older, "not so nice" and have earned no responsibility, but feel they deserve mine and most importantly, any perks that come with them. There are people who apparently can tell just by looking at me that my life has been a bed of roses, and so have decided by comment consent to be thorns in my side. I wish I were a person who didn't care, who could flip the world the bird and keep going. Because contrary to all sense, the world seems to admire people like that. It seems, in fact, sometimes to encourage that kind of bravado, machismo ( I don't know a feminine word for machismo-note to self; I must find that word and use it in conversation at least once.)And I want some of that swagger.It's not enough to tell myself that people don't know better, don't know my issues, don't know my sorrows (can you hear singing in the background? "Nobody knows the trouble I've seen.....) Ok, maybe I don't really have it that bad, or maybe, just maybe I've just been really working that hard. Yeah-----I think that's it. And a little recognition is so little to give when it means so much. I know I can't expect others to appreciate what I'm going through, but every once in a while, it would sure be nice if the world would give me a break. Or failing that, that I had enough Thatchers to take one for myself. Ok, so maybe I don't have enough spite to tell the world to bite the big one, but I can surely strike back at those who keep taking rabbit punches at me. There's one surefire way to do it- and it's guaranteed to make the haterz crazy. I'll keep doing what I'm doing- succeeding, one jab at a time, giving it all I've got and leaving it all in the ring. They can't stand that or anyone who doesn't have time for the bile. Life is too short to focus on the negativity, and I'm too far ahead to let someone pull me down. It seems like such a simple thing, but in the end that's truly all it takes to mark the winners from the losers- just check which direction they're looking in. It's already been decided. I'm in it for the long haul. I just have to work to believe that the fight is already won.

"Criticism is something we can avoid easily;

by saying nothing, doing nothing, and being nothing."

Aristotle

Don't know about you, but that's not my style, so I'll have to keep on keepin' on.
Hope you will too.

2011-10-27T14:48:00.000-04:00

I've come back from the nowhere land of not writing after a break, or rather a break down. After not blogging for a few weeks I quickly came to realize how much blogging has helped me to maintain my equilibrium despite some harrowing personal and work experiences. Without it my personal compass tends to spin even further from true north than normal and leave my head spinning. It's strange to realize that blogging is something of a ritual for me and when I don't do it, everything just seems off. Sometimes I struggle to produce something I consider "worthy", but the point should be that any time I reflect on life ,I'm doing something worthy and necessary for me. The idea of rituals has other echoes for me as well. While I am not an overtly religious person, I do hold some beliefs quite dear, but have struggled to figure out how to incorporate them more fully into my life-to realize them in a way that has a real, substancial emotional and spiritual impact for me. I think we all feel like sacredness is something that comes from outside us, something from "beyond"-which makes it something we can never hope to achieve. But doesn't every philosophy say somewhere that we are special-whether made in God's image, or just part of the Creation, or just fundamental pieces of the universe? Heck, even He-man cartoons taught us that "We have the power!" So, I've decided that maybe my rituals should be just that-mine. Designed by me, for me and surely packing a bigger punch when I stray from them. I've decided that my rituals should be simple-whether a whispered prayer during the drawing of a deep breath (something I've realized I do not do nearly often enough), or the smudging of my home with burning sage,( a cleansing ritual I've also done with remarkable success). The point is to do things everday with intention- with the intention of realizing my own power and my own connection to not only the world around me but the one within me, as well as my own power to control my fate. I want to become my own wisewoman, my own power worker, my own conduit to the powers that be and be a power myself. I can do that-I can make my own path, and while I am certain that I will get lost again, once I know that I am my own center, it will never be too hard to find home again.

Your sacred space is where you can find yourself again and again.

Joseph Campbell

Find more on personal power and try the ritual ideas at http://www.higherawareness.com/manifestingabundance/personal-rituals.html

It's Not You, It's Me or DIY: Death Become Her

2011-09-27T20:51:00.000-04:00

Since I was a kid, I've been very conscious of death. Conscious of a lot of things actually- body conscious, self conscious, etc, ad nauseum. But I really became aware of life the day I became aware of death. It remember it clearly; I was maybe four or five, in kindergarten at least, crossing the street with my mom. Picture me, a kid with braids and glasses, walking to school when suddenly... I noticed the cars. So many cars, it seemed, all around me and I don't know why it had never occurred to me before that they could hit me and I could die. Actually, I think I do know- before that I had never really thought of myself as a person, a separate organism. I know it seems strange, -surely I knew I was alive- but honestly, I don't think I remember much before that age-don't know if I even remembered my own name really (developmentally lagging, that was me, I think). And you know what they say- "Cogito ergo sum." I think therefore I am. I know I wasn't really present until that moment, and then suddenly I was, just in time for a car to blow by me. And that's when I knew I was real, that I could be hurt. It's a lesson that reverberates with me to this day. So much of the time I try to be a good person (whatever that means), someone loving, someone intelligent. I give myself to people, and I know you're not supposed to ask for anything in return...but sometimes I need something. I need to be appreciated. I need to be touched. I need to feel like I'm doing a god job living this, the one and only life I've been given. I hate that I walk around sometimes thinking that that moment, whatever I happen to be doing, will never come again because how many of us are living in our purpose in every moment? Ordinary life takes up so much time. It's necessary, but sometimes it fills me with regret. It makes me feel like less that I'm not living a super powered life every minute of every day. But I'm not a flame. I'm a candle, and you know what they say about burning a candle at both ends. I don't want this awareness of death to make me depressed (ironic, I know). I just want it to give those moments when inspiration does overpower "real life" even more of an edge. I want to dedicate myself to creating something, if not lasting- after all, writing and art don't always last past their creation or creator- but something, if not lasting, at least beautiful. I want to spend my time with people and things, in places, that acknowledge me and make me happy and make me treasure life the bitter sweetness that underscores it. I don't want to squander it. So I've got to focus- on me and my one life and my story and creating something- leaving my legacy, whatever it may be, behind. There are some people who would call that selfish- who don't want to be part of my story. To them I say, you're not wrong. It's not you; it's me. I am being selfish and I going to stay that way. It's my life after all and I've only got one. I've got to make it count.

The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.

Mark Twain

2011-09-17T17:22:00.000-04:00

It amazes me how two people's thoughts on anything can be light years apart-even, maybe especially, on things they agree on. The process of how people come to an agreement is like watching a Mandelbrot fractal being born-you start off with chaos and make...chaos-just in a beautiful form, because even once we agree, we can never really understand each other's thinking processes or motivations. How do people ever come together when our interior landscapes span mental continents? How do we explore each others mental terrain and decide this person is my friend, my lover, my enemy- or even "this person is just like me!"-when the truth is, you have no idea. We will never truly know what another person is thinking, or why they do what they do. The rules of society help us make our decisions-but they aren't absolute and they change constantly. What's popular, right, moral- all decided, it feels, on a whim. And I'm an outsider loking in, who can't figure out the rules of the game. Some people are experts at moving through life, despite it's unpredictability. I think it's akin to being a mathematical savant who's never studied algebra- you can intuit an answer and be right, but never use the same process twice to get to the final answer. Which means when I try the very same thing that worked for you or even worked for me the last two times, the third time-Kaboom! When talking to people I feel, always and forever, a stranger in a strange land. I have no idea how to navigate the pitfalls of interpersonal relationships and usually wish I could just say "Screw it!", and not obey those damn unspoken rules of society everyone else seems to know so well at all. But I want to be a part of something. And people who don't try don't get too far in any direction. And...I have to admit I'm not strong enough to bear society's censure for long. I wish there were an easier way to overcome our mental chasms. But maybe that's the point. Chasms can be overcome when people cooperate-when we strive to understand each other. Sure,I usually don't get it-but I am striving. I think we all are. And maybe one day, we'll all get it. For right now though, what I want is for someone on the other side of my mental divide to lend a hand and throw me a rope. Any takers?

"Sometimes it is the person closest to us who must travel the furthest distance to be our friend."

Robert Brault

You Don't Know Me And Neither Do I

2011-09-13T15:46:00.000-04:00

I had a strange day yesterday. My multiple personalities came out to play. It started when I woke up feeling hipsterish, so I got dressed in tunic and tights, the whole nine yards, despite the fact that I was going to be doing a bit of semi-professional speaking that day. Call me crazy, but I don't think people respond respectfully to other people when they look like they're about to head out to a rave, but I decided to go with it and to hell with the consequences. Besides, I ended up as an elephant that day and no one minded that at all. I went out to do a puppet show for a group of kids and instantly turned into Miss Perky-you just can`t be mean to a bunch of little kids when there`s a puppet on your hand and they`re all smiling at you going "Do it again!" It was a good start to the day. Then I went into my office and suddenly morphed into office lady, checking email, scheduling meetings, taking requests. Still dressed like a college hippie, but now a manager who just happened to have an elephant puppet on her desk. Surreal has been my byword for some time now-my life taking roads I never could have imagined-never knowing who I`ll have to be when I get up that day, and never knowing who I`ll bring back home with me that night. I sort of wish I could use that puppet everyday. I get the feeling all my conversations would be a lot more honest and fulfillin that way. I always thought one day I would figure out who I was, who I was meant to be. I didn`t realize how much impact other people`s perspectives would have on me or how I would worry about it all-about not meeting those expectations. I almost wish I were an actor-given a set of lines and a character description that spelled the whole thing out-where a character lived and how, where they were coming from, and all their motivations. Sometimes I even want to know the end of the story. But that's not how it works. Some stories may be exciting, some predictable-but when it's your own you still have to live it out to the very end, to live through the climax and make your own resolution.I haven't left the house yet today, so don't know what role I'll be starring in,but I hope it's a good one-I'll make it a good one. Maybe a recurring part that I can come back to again and again.

"Many of us go through life feeling as an actor might who does not like his part, and does not believe in the play."

Mignon McLaughlin-The Neurotics Notebook,1960

The Game of Life or DIY: I'll Take Life for A Thousand, Alex

2011-08-14T09:26:00.000-04:00

I've written a lot about how life seems like a game, with rules that I've never quite understood. While friends and family are getting married, starting families,buying homes, and settling into their adult lives, I seem to still be.... not drifting, exactly- but not matching up to some societal norms. But, then who says that society knows what's normal? Normal has changed so much over the years-feminism givng rise to a backlash, macho guys becoming stay at home dads, equal marriage rights for all- why we almost had a female president! Things are not the way they used to be and normal it appears, is far more fluid than we give it credit for. So who's to say that my normal isn't exactly the right thing for me right now? I have been an educator, a care giver, a world traveler even, while still remaing the same small town girl ( and yes, I really do still think of myself as a girl.)-Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be a fully grown woman. I imgaine myself still worrying about acne and having crushes at age eighty, but perhaps having grown up enough not to worry who knows it. I have not yet been a wife or mother and who knows if that's to come? Maybe I'll delve back into the past and be a hippie in my next incarnation. You never know- and that's an important realization in the Game of Life. You never know what will happen next- whether the milestones you hit are taking you along the "right" path. You never know if you're winning---unless you can say this- I have been proud of what I've accomplished, eager to see what I'll do next, grateful for the people who have journeyed with me, and humbled by the realization of both my own inadequacies and my own power. This is what it means to be human, to be normal- to realize that the journey takes you as much as you take it. And no matter where it takes you, as long as you keep moving, you're winning. So it all comes down to this-you spin the wheel, take your turn, make your choices- and hopefully you enjoy where the game takes you.

Each player must accept the cards life deals him or her: but once they are in hand, he or she alone must decide how to play the cards in order to win the game.

Voltaire

Same To You, Buddy!

2011-08-05T09:00:00.002-04:00

So, I was driving to work today, coincidentally enough, thinking about writing this blog, and I nearly sideswiped another car (which just goes to show how deeply I think about these blogs before I send them out to you in the world-so, respect.) Now, of course, the other driver cussed me out and deservedly so, and I would have done the same. But it occurred to me that that person was from then on going to have not only a terrible morning, but an erroneous idea of who I was. Unless you're the sweetest person on earth, you know that road rage makes you think the worst of humanity, and so do lots of other things- the person who cuts you off at the grocery line, who's rude to you at the corner sandwich shop- the list goes on and on. But these little snippets of a person's personality that we get (in my case, they didn't even get to see) are like, like the many layers of Martin Lawrence's fat suit in his movies (which one?- ALL of them). They're there, but they're not all that's there, and you have to peel through the layers to get to the kernel and find out if there's anything there worthwhile (that's a lot of theres!). I often feel like the people around me don't know the real me- that they know my circumstances, and think that they're all that defines me. I am someone's daughter, sister, friend- and I have certain behaviors for each of these that other people who don't see me in that light would find astonishing. I'm sure my mother would be surprised (at the least) if she knew some of the things I discussed with my friends, and my friends would be surprised if they knew what it is I do exactly as a job (no one really thinks I'm very responsible in any of my relationships), and I.. I just let people think what they think because their first impression isn't going to change. A science fiction truism is that psychics don't exist in great numbers because they couldn't deal with the multiple pyschoses people carry about in their heads... (another is that people in scifi novels almost always have a hate on for psychics and invariably end up killing them to protect their own [sometimes measly and sometimes grisly] secrets- not great options for building a race of super humans.) At any rate, I felt bad for cutting someone off, and wished they could see into my head to know I was sorry, but knew they never would. So one more version of me (the idiot female driver one) is out there in someone's head, but it's not the real me. Being fully known is one of my greatest fears and greatest desires- I want to pull off my own fat suit (the real one too) and stand in front of the world, someday- but for now I'll hide behind my glasses and wait for someone who is psychic or just really really patient to find the best version of me, the absolutely amazing one, and pull me out of the shadows. Who knows, it could even be me.

Self is the only prison that can ever bind the soul.

~Henry Van Dyke, The Prison and the Angel

Through The Looking Glass

2011-07-28T08:53:00.001-04:00

Getting my thoughts together to send out into the world (specifically to you three guys still paying attention) has been a little more difficult recently. I've been living a quote unquote "normal -life"- albeit even I realize how un-normal (yes, I know that's not a word- it's my word, deal with it!) things are in today's America. It's so surreal in fact, that I've kinda been facing a hit of nostalgia for Japan. I miss my beach, and my apartment and the freedom to travel (even though, yes, I suck and didn't do it enough. I do regret that actually...a lot). But life in our America just seems so odd right now- debt ceiling limits, the news about Norway (contrasted oddly or disgustingly enough this morning on Today by a segment about mommyrexia- trying to be thin through pregnancy). And it goes on. The famine in Africa (which one, some of you quip- to which I say, don't be a douche), the horrendous tornadoes- need I explicate more? And yes, I know that Japan has suffered horribly, even though that news seems to have been quietly dropped (well before they kicked our butts in the World Cup -but is anyone surprised that the news pundits haven't touched the ish since (that's ish as in issues, not the "other". If you don't know what the "other " is- don't worry about it.) So, yes, my nostalgia is not based in reality, but nostalgia never is. I feel like dealing on a national level with our problems, and a personal one with my own is just a leeetle frustrating right now- my weight (America has been trying to kill me with fast food), my indecision- stay at a job I love in a town I don't? (not really don't, just one I've already done. A sad case of Manifest Destiny maybe?) Heck, I'm still waiting for my prince to come...and make me dinner, love me passionately and tell me I'm pretty! (Any time now, dude). I don't know-sometimes I feel I just need to get back to basics- and my island was pretty basic. But I know that I'm seeing it all through a mirror darkly, as they say. (You remember, the ubiquitous "they"). So, I guess I'll just have to concentrate on making my own wonderland here..or finding a bargain basement pair of rose tinted glasses. Any one got some to spare?

*New postcard series coming soon!

Miles To Go Before I Sleep

2011-06-30T10:00:00.000-04:00

Yes, I know how ironic the title of this latest blog is considering I promised to get back to writing on a more regular basis- buuut, a sister has to sleep sometime you know! The Great Work-i.e. my job, has been going well lately and keeping me on my toes. I'm feeling really productive which has always been a factor in happiness for me- you know I've said it before ( a lot), but having a purpose is so important to getting through the day, let alone life. That being said, the getting through life thing started to poke at me a little recently. When I work I'm kind of like a terrier- I dig my head in and get to work, and it can take a hard pull to get me to back off and look at the bigger picture. Recently a lot of really great things have been happening ...just to other people. My family and friends have gotten married, had children, moved houses, moved towns. I thought about it, and thought about it, and started feeling a little like I might be a little..late, developmentally speaking. While everyone else seems to be hitting the milestones society tells us are so important, I haven't been able to get anywhere near them with the hopping I've been doing. Looking back on my life has been a little bit of a disturbing realization- from high school to college, to a job, to..another job, across the world and back. On paper I'm not sure I've accomplished that much. Sure I've traveled, but having to start at the bottom again at each new job, having to find a whole new community every time I left the last, living in places that while cute didn't quite feel like home, (but not being ready to settle anywhere permanent yet, just because... nothing has felt quite perfect enough). Ehh, it's not the kind of life you can bring to the table when you start to think a future with someone, with a community, with anything that demands a long term relationship. Heck, even my cats aren't so sure I won't desert them to world hop again. Every time you leave it's another chapter and sometime the people left behind don't care about your new story. They've got their own lives and sometimes they revolve around smaller, but no less powerful poles. It's probably just me not being quite perfect enough for anywhere I've been, or where I'm at ( or where some of the people I've met are) in life. All I really want is to be settled- in myself, in my place in the world. And I don't feel quite there yet, don't feel like I'm measuring up to some invisible but powerfully felt standard. And then I realized that just because everyone else is walking that path, doesn't mean I have to. I'm happy to be a part of their lives, to have those true friends who share those milestones with me, because I'm a part of their lives. To realize that even if I haven't decided where to settle and nest for myself, I have a spiritual home with them that allows me the luxury of roaming. So I'll kiss the babies, and celebrate the anniversaries, and send housewarming presents from around the world if that's where my path takes me, knowing that any milestone I reach is an achievement, not a millstone around my neck or a measure of my failure if I don't. Maybe life will slow down for me, or new adventures will come, one by one as I walk the path I've chosen... either way, it's my journey and my choice and that makes all the difference.

My path has not been determined. I shall have more experiences and pass many more milestones.

Agnetha Faltskog

THIS..IS..SPARTAAAA! or DIY: Stoicism- Bend Over And Take It Like A Man

2011-05-31T17:26:00.000-04:00

Okay, so first let me say mea culpa, mea culpa- which for you Phillistines means "I suck"- it can also be translated as "My bad, yo!" I promised to write after we reached 2,000 visitors to the site (Yeaah boyy!)...but then I didn't. So, mea culpa. I have, I am bemused to say, been busy- beyond my wildest dreams. First I needed a job, then I got the job, now I am the job's b****. My hours have been crazy, the people surreal (not my staff- they're cool... and remind to tell you in a bit how I got a staff.) And I've been loving all of it when I haven't been feeling like I need to go howl on the mountain. ( Yeah, I know- no mountains here-sigh.) I am really feeling challenged here for the first time in a while- there are constantly programs to plan, schedules to do, staff to oversee (Yessuh, Boss!) and what I love and have missed the most- kids to interact with. My job is to help people read (and use the internet, copy, do research, volunteer, and occasionally teach parents how to be better parents-an awesome gift and responsibility.) And I'm loving it, except when I'm so tired I can't breathe, have anxiety attacks, and feel the need to drink. (But more than half the bottle of vodka remains in the fridge-go me! okay, maybe a little less than half.) Playing the role of adult, consultant, expert is really, really hard. And I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for someone to realize that I don't know what the hell I'm doing, and boot me out the door- kind of like when I first started teaching. Everyday I waited for someone to realize I had no experience and ask why the heck they had hired me? I endured long hours, and training, and seminars trying to make myself a better teacher- trying to be what the job needed me to be. And I'm still doing it- training and all, seminars, trying to be a leader to a staff I wasn't supposed to have (my manager got promoted, y'all- yay for her! Oh sh*t! for me)- Suddenly I have a staff, a department and I'm interviewing another employee this week. I hate that kind of stuff. I'm used to being in the background and I'm okay with that. All I jwanted was to do puppet shows for kids! And tell them to read Susan Cooper books-(great books about wizards before Harry Potter was a brain storm in Rowling's head. Before the death threats come, I love Harry too, but the series is over! Live with it!)
Suddenly, I'm responsible, again, for something bigger than myself- to people other than myself- not my bosses-- but my kids. I get to be a teacher, without a lot of the limitations teachers have. But with freedom comes responsibility. If I want to create great programs for tweens, teenagers and kids and infuse them with a passion for reading, I have to make schedules. I have to plan, and program, and beg for funds. I have to act like a clown for little kids, and figure out how to make books cool for older kids and do it all on a budget of hundreds of dollars-like 200 dollars, folks. That's just enough to pay for program materials and bookmarks and suckers for after. I have to be a politician again, and position myself on committees, when I'd rather just talk to kids about books. Having a purpose again is so hard..but meaningful. I don't want to be in the limelight, be a boss, be the Man...I really don't- but if it lets me inspire one more kid to read, I guess I'll learn if not to like it, at least to hack it with the best of them.

Put your heart, mind, intellect and soul even to your smallest acts.

This is the secret of success. ~Swami Sivananda

*Again, sorry for the late posts. I'll do better, but don't try to guilt trip me- you're still not the boss of me!
okay-maybe a little :)

The Onion Girl or DIY: Mix and Match-Doll Parts

2011-04-20T10:00:00.012-04:00

I find it interesting that Catherine Zeta-Jones is in the news this week for going to a mental health facility for Bipolar 2, the same day I decide to write about my own recent bout with some highs and lows. Why is it that celebrities can make mental illnesses the newest trend- along the lines of Loboutin shoes, purse chihuahas (or little pigs)? How do I get the commiseration of a nation for the mental blow outs we all have every once in a while? I'm not saying I'm mentally ill (though I have my days and there are people who would disagree), but I don't think it would be wrong to say that we're all getting sicker as a nation mentally, or maybe just showing it more. It doesn't seem right to have days when I'd rather hide in a closet than face the world, and even if I am a girl, and I fully believe that every now and again every girl needs a good nose honking cry, I can't seem to escape the notion that the world is simply too much today. Not that there's too much wrong,--it's just too much all together. I've spent the week feeling like I could tear my nails to shreds trying to pull off all the layers and masks I wear just to get through an ordinary day and at the same time feeling like I could break my own heart, slamming it against a wall, adding layer after layer of scars, and feeling like it's all right if my heart gets harder every time, because you just can't make it in this world with a tender heart anymore. I'm tired of feeling tired, and broken inside. If I could replace whatever it is that's missing in me- just replace my parts, like we used to do when we were kids- remember? When you could just switch heads (and even genders- how 'bout mutant Barbie G.I. Joe, huh?) If I'm a doll with broken parts, I wish I could just switch out all the stuff that makes me insecure, and mean, and most of all, most of the time, just...sad. I don't want every day to be a burden or a duty. I want to be happy for more than a few minutes at a time. I don't have the time to check into a mental facility (and I'm pretty sure my salary wouldn't cover it anyway- don't those people know how much better I could do my job if I only had the right drugs?!), so I guess I'll just have to keep doing the best I can, and posting the struggle here for all the world to see. Guess Catherine and I have something in common after all, huh?

“The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four Americans is suffering from some form of mental illness. Think of your three best friends. If they're okay, then it's you.”
Rita Mae Brown quotes

3-2-1- Cognition or DIY: It's My World, Everyone Else Just Lives In It

2011-04-11T10:00:00.003-04:00

Do you know the feeling you get when you have deja vu? You know, when you feel, all of a sudden, like you done this, been here before? (whatever or wherever this or here is.) It's the feeling that everyone is wearing a mask that you can't quite see behind...or that you are, and your wish that someone would see behind your mask almost overcomes your terror that they will. It's the realization as you cross the street for just a moment, that the street doesn't exist, that you're moving through something else, be it time or space, where nothing is quite solid or real..until the car beside you hits its brakes. Reality has always been an illusion to me- often times an unpleasant one. I hate feeling like everyone one else got all the directions to the game of life but me. Cognitive dissonance is defined (by Wikipedia no less, the blueprints to the universe) as an uncomfortable feeling caused by holding conflicting ideas simultaneously. In other words, when what you believe should be happening contradicts what you perceive to be happening, you could have cognitive dissonance. Good examples include the Wikipedia example of buyers remorse- you buy something expecting to feel good about it- a new dress, a car ... and instead you feel dread or anger. "The I can't believe I spent so much" syndrome.. It could also be when you expected to feel happy about something- like a birthday, but instead feel depressed. Maybe you're like me and you eat an entire pizza expecting to feel satisfied, and instead just feel sick and disgusted. (If you're whispering out there that of course you expect to feel disgusted when you eat a whole pizza, then you're not suffering from dissonance--you're just a smug prick. Pizza is supposed to make you happy, dammit!)
Dissonance is a feeling I am too used to lately- and I think it's contagious. I feel like too many people in the world are the same as me- wondering what's wrong with them that they can't join with the consensus, the reality that other people seem to have no problem sharing- it's like being Picard when he joined the Borg (If you don't know what I'm talking about, non scifi geek, just press on to the next paragraph.) You want to be part of the group, but some vague sense of dissatisfaction, of not belonging, of discontent keeps you from fully joining in. You know you should be happy, but you aren't. And nothing makes it worse than people telling you how lucky you are or how happy you should be. Screw that. The realization that I'm unhappy about my situation does not automatically equal that I'm selfish, or unpleasable-it simply means I'm smart enough to realize that where I am is not where I want to be. The corollary to that equation- not being happy, I mean= I should do something about it. That's all. Just do it. (swoosh). It's not that I can't be happy where I am, but no one should have to settle for less than their perfect reality. If finding my happiness means checking out of the communal reality and creating a new one just for me , then that's okay. If this world is not enough for me, that doesn't mean I'm an awful person- maybe it just means (to quote John Mayer, and not the racist stuff, I mean come on John!) that "I'm bigger than my body." If the world is not enough for you either, then make your own- reality after all isn't really reality at all---it's the stuff of dreams. Make yours come true.

Question reality, especially if it contradicts the evidence of your hopes and dreams.

~Robert Brault

My (Al)Chemical Romance or All That Glitters Is Not Gold (Yet)

2011-03-24T10:50:00.000-04:00

For those of you are are not as educated in the esoteric arts, alchemy was the study of elements- dedicated to trying to perfect things to their purest state. A common example would be (for you Harry Potter fans), the Philosopher's stone-believed to to able to purify poisons, turn lead to gold, etc, etc. It was, to be succinct, some some powerful mojo. Now, why should any of that be important to you? Well, recently while reading Eat, Pray, Love (another story from a traveler afar-amazing how travel turns everyone into a philosopher isn't it?), I started reflecting on the idea of a soul mate, the one person who is our soul's other half- who know us like no other, so "they" say- (and you know we hate the ubiquitous "they"-damned autocrats). Anyway, "they" say this soul is out there, waiting for every one of us. And I believe it's true..but I also believe thanks in part to EPL that they are to be avoided at all costs. Okay, maybe not really, but Elizabeth Gilbert, author of EPL put forth an idea that I'd not really considered before- that soul mates are not people we're supposed to be with forever-they are not the person you marry who makes you whole (you're already whole and if you marry someone who is your "other half" that means they're really you and God knows you don't need to marry yourself-though some people try.) Your soul mate is not a prize to be won, but more like a phase to go through. They're a scourge, a whip which forces you to be a better person. I believe I have met my soul mate many times, in many bodies and will again, because I am far from being the completed person I want to be. My two halves haven't met so far- my alchemical "wedding" hasn't happened yet or maybe it has and is still happening even now, again and again. I certainly have felt somewhat "challenged" lately. But my journey from the mud into perfect form, my transmutation, if you will, has been informed by so many people in my life-all of whom held a mirror to my better side, while scourging my baser nature- my selfishness, and fears. The touch me briefly, but powerful-siblings, parents, friends and lovers. Dear reader, you have all of them to blame for who I am today and who I'm still becoming...and I love them and you, for it. That's right, you wonderful mofo b******s, thank you for making me better every day (and yes, I's aware that perfected human beings probably don't call their loved ones mofos- you're still working on me, remember? >=)
The idea of changing lead to gold, of purifying the human soul, is an age old one-prefaced by the idea that change is possible and necessary, to bring about closeness between human beings, to help us create or recreate a unity of spirit, a place of belonging for which we all long. Like the image of the lotus flower rising from the mud, the symbolism of turning lead into gold is understandable to all- we all want to overcome our frailties, our impurities, and weaknesses and be transmuted into something valued and love. We none of us are there yet, me most of all-but still and all, the evolution continues.

Through love the devil becomes an angel. Through love stones become soft as butter. Through love grief is like delight. Through love demons become the servants of God. (Quote by - Mevlana Rumi)

You Got The Love -Aishiteru Wa Nippon 愛してるわにっぽん

2011-03-17T09:47:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I don't mean to be inappropriate but this morning the ongoing FUBAR situation that is the news from Japan finally just made me...pop. (too soon? yeah, probably still too soon.) But really, although I no longer live there, really only lived there for a short while, Japan was a place where I learned a lot of things about myself and the thought of what is going on there is really gut clenching. As far as I know MY friends are safe, but so many others are not, and I've begun to feel what I think a lot people who care about the world feel- completely useless, helpless to help except by donations by text. (Which by the way, I DO encourage if you can.) I feel guilty somehow that I'm not in the trenches, that I'm not in Japan in the wind and the rain. And because I'm selfish, some part of me wonders how they're feeling- almost wishing I could feel it, like a parasite- because those people are living life, and feeling pain, but because they're people (not just Japanese with their reputations for endurance but people) they will rebuild, because this is what we do. So, yes, selfishly I would like to feel, personally, a little of their resolve. Yesterday, I got to take a hot shower, and eat and go to work- telling stories to little kids...and I'll do it again today. While I was reminded in emails from my Japanese co-workers that the students I left behind are supposed to graduate in April, (and while I sent my congratulations) I have no idea if they really will. The Japanese are a stoic people but how do you get the rhythms of a normal life going again in the literal wake of a tsunami, an earthquake, and our worst nightmare, a nuclear scare? Will there be cherry blossoms this spring, and a Closing ceremony? If there is, more important, where will my kids go? I lived on an island which fortunately appears to have been unaffected (by the weather at least), but an entire generation of students will be traumatized by these events- will change their life paths because of them. Many of them dreamed of leaving the island at graduation, some going to college, some going to Tokyo to work where they would have conversations with gai-jin and maybe use some of the English I taught them. If they ever get to Tokyo now, it will be nothing like their dreams. I feel very much a foreigner now, so far apart from a place that was for a while my home, where I had moments of peace, and which, if I ever visit again in memory or reality, will never be the same. The cherry blossom season should be starting soon for this year, but all I can see are images of snow in Akita, falling over bent over oba-chans (grandmothers) already inspecting their damaged homes and lives to see where the rebuilding will begin. I can't be there because my life is here. I can't be everywhere in the world where there is hurt and hunger right now. All I can give is money, and time in thought. All I can send is love and prayers. I hope it will be enough. It will have to be enough.

I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do. ~Edward Everett Hale

to donate money to the American Red Cross for victims of the Japan tsunami and earthquake, visit www.midfloridaredcross.org.

Or, text REDCROSS to 90999 to make a $10 donation.

Karma chameleon or DIY: The Mouse That Roared

2011-03-01T19:04:00.000-05:00

“A little rudeness and disrespect can elevate a meaningless interaction to a battle of wills and add drama to an otherwise dull day.”

Bill Watterson

You can’t go through life without acknowledging yourself. Brave words, wise words from the gurus at TLC’s What Not To Wear. But why is it that when you acknowledge yourself, it’s like a signal for everyone else to get in your grill for not acknowledging them?!! Case in point- I was raised to not interrupt adults when they’re speaking, and to always greet people as they come in the door. But in the past few weeks, I have had people (usually older women) walk away from me while I was speaking to them – who then complained that I didn’t greet them the next time I saw them. And when I decided not to put in the extra effort for no return, all of a sudden the eye rolls and the skin teeth came out. ( If you don’t know what that means, ask a black friend- carefully. If you are black and don’t know, find a little old black lady- they know everything.) While being polite gets you a fair distance, it appears that telling the rules to f*** off gets you only disdain from the other people who also don’t follow the rules. How is it that the rudest people get to appoint themselves the masters of ceremony and etiquette? Who decided that they get to put themselves at the top of the ladder? Aaargh! When do I get to tell the world to take a hike, like say, every celebrity or rockstar –and be applauded for my initiative, my nonchalance to the slights, the slings and arrows that life seems intent on throwing at me. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. My affability has gotten me in trouble in the past- probably because it's more like passive aggressiveness. When people demand respect from you it’s usually because they don’t respect themselves. How often have you had to apologize for what someone else called your thoughtlessness and later thought, was I really that insensitive? And sometimes, we really are. But sometimes, the sharks in the water simply smell blood and they come a running –(yes, I know sharks don’t run- mixed metaphor, people!) I have seriously gotten to the point when I have to ask if this is karma- if maybe this is this how I seem to others and I’m simply looking in the mirror. If so, I need a makeover stat. But maybe, it’s not me- and maybe I simply need to prepare myself for the offensive and being considered offensive when I don’t respond with the alacrity others seem to feel they deserve. How often do you feel attacked because of what someone else felt, which in reality had nothing really to do with you? One of my pet peeves is people who demand respect without giving it – not in return, but first. Showing respect is not a you show me yours and maybe I’ll show you mine proposition. It’s a statement about who you are and who you want others to see you as. I’ve determined that I no longer want to see myself as a doormat- and that I owe no acclamations or explanations to anyone. I know who I am, how I was brought up and where I’m taking myself in the future. If you have issues or you step in my road, don’t be surprised if I politely, but firmly, brush you aside.

Respect commands itself and it can neither be given nor withheld when it is due.

What Is Love? Baby, Don't Hurt Me No More

2011-02-13T08:29:00.001-05:00

So once again folks, it's time for my annual Valentine's rant- no, not quite the right word. Discussion? No. Lecture? Umm, no. How about verbal eruption? That's it! That's perfect. Now that we've got that straight, let me preface by saying that I have no problem with the underlying idea of the holiday of St. Valentine- expressing your love and admiration for someone with the purchase of cheap gimmickry, gew gaws and surf and turf. I quite happen to like gas station velvet roses. But really, what I want to talk about is the kind of love celebrated on this day- romantic love, the perfect love Disney taught us to expect when walking through a forest surrounded by birds, which some how leads one to, oh pick one: (eat food from strangers causing you to fall into a magical sleep; pick roses from stranger's gardens resulting in your parents having to sell you into slavery; or my personal favorite, making a wish that transforms you and leaves you feeling like you're walking on knives) whereupon a handsome stranger alike to a Ken doll arrives to rescue you from the terrible fate your own decisions brought you to. (And yes, I know that second one was the father's fault, but really, Beauty couldn't have developed some Thatchers and run away? Really?) And also -wait for it- is it possible that Mattel and Disney are plotting together in some massive conspiracy to control the romantic lives of American women? Huh? Um- you all already knew about that? (Sigh, always behind the curve.)
Well, anyway, sometimes I feel like we should celebrate all loves- not just the "pure" ideal of love, but the weird loves- like the recent guy who Facebooked me and wanted to be my friend- who happens to have a foot fetish. (I think I need to re-do my privacy settings- there were some pretty good feet pictures in one of my albums- I could develop a cult following!) Or how about my own weird love of corsets- and yes, I know there will be two camps telling me; one, corsets are beautiful and sexy ( and I ain't talking about those pieces of Victoria's secret crap); or two, how terrible it is to want to distort my body that way- to which I respond, how long have you been a woman? ( and/or reading this blog!? All I talk about is wanting to change myself.) Or how about that new show on TLC which celebrates weird addictions like- eating soap, or the insides of sofa cushions? There's weird love for you.
Or weird love classics- like Nabakov's Lolita- a book I read in college which steal squicks me out to this day- how can you sympathize with a guy who's in the end, a fairly pathetic pedophile? You sympathize because the kid's a b***h who leaves him, if I recall correctly, in a roadside hotel for another man. So, he's morally disgusting- at some point haven't we all been? (And if you start that "at least I never" thing- you will be banned forthwith from the conversation- morally speaking, all sins are equal- it's just that some are worth killing for as punishment and others, your punishment is that you have to live with yourself after. The verdict is still out on who should be the judge. [ I think it should be me!])
In the end, love is just a weird thing. A combination of chemicals in the brain? Maybe. An eternal soul connection with another? Maybe. An intense appreciation of a personal standard of beauty-e.g. my feet? Could be. In the end, whether you're chemically imbalanced, or shot by the golden arrow of love, you've got to dance with the one who brung ya and love the one you're with- even if it is inanimate, leather, or cushiony. (Hey, some of my best dates have been with inanimate wooden blocks- nice guys, all :)

We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love. ~Author Unknown

*Join the weirdvolution! And, Happy V-day everyone

The Color Purple or DIY: Surving the Animal Farm

2011-02-01T21:26:00.000-05:00

Stop me if you think that you've heard these words before...(Oh, right. Already did that post?Well, alright then. Moving on.) Don't know where exactly these thoughts are coming from tonight, except for the fact that the drive to work gives me lots of time to think, although what I think isn't always very rational. Actually, I do know where tonight's thoughts came from- a discussion about tweeting..er, twitting. Whatever the appropriate verbiage, tonight I had a conversation with friends about changing technology, and realized that I while I have always talked about "when I was a kid", that my era really is changing and I wondered whether I had the capability of keeping up. I won't say I'm old, (unless it gives me an advantage in an argument) , but neither have I really thought about my future much because I've never seen myself as aging- not from the vanity of youth, but from just not being able to picture myself that far in the future. I don't want to sound despairing, but I don't know that I've ever been sure I would make it that far. The arrogance of youth is to believe that we are unchanging, or failing that, that everyone else is changing for the worse, growing old and senile, no longer capable of innovation in spirit or thought. But doesn't anyone remember that growing old is a luxury? That once upon a time, old was living to be my age (if you know don't tell!) and not much beyond. In animal terms, I would be the stringy, cantankerous tusked female boar of the herd ( do female boars have tusks? Nevermind- just go with the analogy.)- wily, cunning, (okay- just plain too stubborn) enough not to die. I don't know what continuing lessons growing older will teach me- I'm imagine it will teach me patience as I can't move as fast as I once did even now- (who knew I would look back on my twenties with such nostalgia ?) both physically and often I feel, mentally- but then again, I was never really the sharpest knife in the drawer. And life itself is cutting itself into my face- those crows feet are growing longer every year-( it's like those carrion birds are having a Dance-Dance Revolution party on my face while I'm asleep every night.) But every wrinkle and scar is mine, and every laugh line too (need more of those actually.) And I'll wear them honestly, and pray that they keep on coming because after all, the alternative is worse. And besides, they make good accessories for that purple dress I'm saving to wear when I get old...just because.

Warning:When I Am An Old Woman, I Shall Wear Purple

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick flowers in other people's gardens

And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Jenny Joseph

*I'm all for practicing now- any one want to join me?

New Year, New Kid On The Block or DIY: Baby, Take All Of Me

2011-01-16T09:33:00.001-05:00

Ok, so this wasn't exactly a New Years resolution, (because then I could have broken it, no harm , no foul- like everyone else), but I did say I was going to try to post more regularly once I got settled with the new job. And since I actually have some issues to take care of anyway, here goes. Do you ever get the feeling you're being...watched? (Good old Bugs Bunny chestnut-if you haven't heard that saying, you didn't watch enough cartoons as a child.) So, yeah. I'm being watched- evaluated- for the first time in a while, and I find it highly disconcerting. It's almost like being in high school again- people are trying to figure out where I fit in (which is something I never knew before and don't know now)- where I belong in the hierarchy. It's unnerving and annoying, and makes me feel a little resentful that I once again have to prove myself. The problem is this- after a long time of working jobs where I didn't have to prove myself (not because I didn't care, but because dammit I was good at my job- though unacknowledged), I find that I want to succeed this year where I am, but I don't want to have to go through the gauntlet to do it. Why can't we all just get along? I have spent most of my life feeling slightly autistic-never really knowing how relationships work, or being able to spot the clues that other people subconsciously can read without effort ( and for those who are feeling all butt hurt about my autistic analogy- I have taught special ed kids, and can honestly say in this day and age, were I to be tested I probably would be one, so take your offendedness elsewhere. BTW, new favorite phrase- butt hurt.) I am tired of having to play king of the mountain or office politics when all I want to do is my job. Let me rephrase- all I want to do is live my life- if that includes doing the job well when allowed to- great, if not maybe I'll fit in if I do what everyone else does and do my job half-assedly, and just love my life outside of work. 'Cause in the end it's only money, and honey, I've always been broke. This year all I wanted for Christmas was a job- or really, I meant a purpose. And now I've got the job, and the purpose is the same as it ever was. I want to do something meaningful- I want to find beauty in my life, I want to create a me that feels confident that if I don't know all the "rules" I don't have to- because they don't apply to me anyway. Rules are for herd animals. Maybe this year, I will just have to be okay with being "She Who Hunts Alone." Because what I'm searching for can't be found at the office, in a clique, or a gaggle (more animal references, anyone? No? Okay, I'll stop now). This year, I firmly resolve to look at the world and spit in it's eye. I'm not trying to get on board with everyone else- they better get on board with me. Because this year, I'm going places. Catch me if you can.

Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any other.
Abraham Lincoln

Simply Having A Wonderful Christmas Time

2010-12-24T20:00:00.000-05:00

Just a quick note for all the readers out there in the black hole of the interwebs- Merry ChrismaHanKwanzaakah, Festival of Lights and what have you. This is a very different holiday season for me than last years. While I came home, my life wasn't here anymore and it gave the holidays a very different feel- no less nostalgic but certainly a nostalgia seen from a different perspective. Seeing the holiday from the Japanese view point actually wasn't that startling-because truth be told much of America treats Christmas like a day of relaxed ... not morals, but attitudes as well. And there's nothing wrong with that. I think the problem for a lot of holiday Scrooges is the insistence by so many that the holidays are supposed to bring out in us a kind of spirit that is not seen the rest of the year and for those of us who suffer from what might be a marginal form of holiday seasonal disorder, this bipolarity is grating ( as is the continual barrage of Christmas music from young children, particularly men who would have, as recently as the Renaissance, been castrated to keep those sweet voices pure. Now, doesn't that just make you want to sing Silent Night?) At any rate, the disparity between what we're told we should feel at this time of year and what we actually feel can be dispiriting. Perhaps its time for a more realistic view of the holidays- that it isn't the only time we symbolically come home, but it is a time when we're not alone in doing so. If nothing else, it can give one that extra push to be kinder that we all know deep in our hearts we should always have. If you need an excuse this year to try one more time to come home, this is as good as any and it doesn't take much. The tinsel, and wrapping paper, eggnog and sweets don't have to obscure the real message- or the real objective that we're all searching for. Tonight I stood outside in the freezing cold, and searched the skies for a sign- a feeling that there was still something magical about the season that we all as children loved. What I saw was... a space station--floating across the sky. So much for magic reindeer. But I wasn't too disappointed. After all, I never did believe in Saint Nick. But I realized that while I was searching the stars, the magic was already happening. I was surrounded by darkness, but even in that night I was also surrounded by family... and the stars. I hope you find yourself safe at home this holiday, wherever you are, surrounded by whatever gives you faith in magic again. Happy Holidays.

"This is my wish for you: peace of mind, prosperity through the year, happiness that multiplies, health for you and yours, fun around every corner, energy to chase your dreams, joy to fill your holidays!"
--D.M. Dellinger

Stop Me If You Think That You've Heard These Words Before

2010-12-13T14:25:00.000-05:00

So, I know I've been a little lax ab about posting, but I've been busy. No, really- I've been busy. It seems like the Fates have finally heard me (God, please don't let me jinx it!), and suddenly all the things I've been waiting for are, if not right at my fingertips, getting ready to happen and happen fast. I finally rented my house, which means soon ( within weeks, actually) I'll be moving and making some real decisions about my life plan for the next few years. I've also (ta-dah!) managed to convince someone that I am in fact a mature, responsible person who is capable of supervising others. (Yeah, I know- I can't believe they fell for it either.) So, in this holiday season, it looks like I will be getting everything I was hoping for for the first time in a while. Oh, and lest I forget, I also just published my first book (remember back when I told you back in October it would be finished for December? Just in time for Christmas presents? Well it's done-hint, hint.) For the first time in a while, I'm proud of myself. I struggled through depression because I couldn't get a job, I felt like a freeloader and I wasn't sure where I could go next. Now finally, there's something concrete for me to work on, to get back into my element. I know in the past I've talked about finding your own way, and believing that it can work out for you. But I have no problem with saying it again, because in the end, it's true. Never have I felt so unsettled about my situation, but at the same time I knew, I had to believe- that I had the experience that someone was looking for, the attitude, the background, and more importantly, I had to believe that I had the strength to keep looking for the next opportunity, whatever it might be. I hope that despite the troubles we've all been facing this year, that you keep hope alive in the next and know, really know, that all your dreams can come true.

“Patience is waiting. Not passively waiting. That is laziness.

But to keep going when the going is hard and slow - that is patience.”

P.S. You won't have to be patient with me much longer- blog posts will be back on a regular schedule as soon as I get settled!

What Dreams May Come

2010-11-16T15:18:00.000-05:00

Everyone knows that listening to someone else talk about their dream is soooo boring.... because yours was way more interesting and important. So, yes, I know right off the bat you will not be able to picture whaw\t I'm going to talk about next....but I'm gonna do it anyway. So, there's an old belief that dreaming about snakes means a woman is pregnant (no, that's not what I dreamed, sheesh!) In fact, I dreamed about being in an aquarium looking into a beautiful round window on a seascape- filled with ferns, and tiny organisms.... and what looked like a proto-Pokemon floating in amniotic fluid. Now, keep in mind that whatever you dream of is not literally what you're dreaming about. So dreaming about a tiny floating creature does not (again) mean you're pregnant or want to be. In fact, according to the Dream Dictionary, (plus, of course, my own intuition) water generally represents your unconscious and your emotional state. So to see my emotional state as beautiful and calm should be considered a good thing, right? Only, here's the tricky part- in my dream, I came back to the exhibit again, and this time the staff wouldn't let me in. Imagine, the nerve to keep me from my own subconscious! So naturally, I did what anyone would- I tried to sneak in. Over and over I kept trying to find a way into the exhibit so I could see the little creature floating in space that was me- I jumped the line, I snuck into a restroom past security, I actually broke another exhibit- (whoever you were in the hall of dreams, I'm sorry!) But I couldn't get back to myself. How many times have you felt like that? I've felt at something of a plateau for a while now. My friends either have well established lives or are starting new ones, and I'll admit- I'm a little jealous. I know that my new life is out there- I keep getting little hints, times when good omens seem to abound- I hear news of interviews coming, and someone looks at my house.. and then they back off. I'm afraid being in stasis much longer will kill me. That new little life floating in space belongs to me. I just need to get my hands on it. So maybe tonight I'll try a little lucid dreaming- controlling my own conscious. I want to walk back into that exhibit, knowing that in real life everything does take time- but that my time will come. So I'll watch my life, that little creature in the picture window, and not let anyone keep me from it. Tonight, I'll stand in front of that little window, and watch myself float and grow in the sea of dreams.

Dreams are like stars...you may never touch them, but if you follow them they will lead you to your destiny.”

Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher or Variations on a Theme

2010-11-10T15:30:00.000-05:00

Hi. My name is Dee and I am a Stumbleupon addict. Lately it seems all of my posts have been inspired by sites I've found on Stumbleupon, lackadaisically web surfing (instead of putting out resumes or practicing for interviews). Because we didn't know that the world is full of wild, wonderful, disgusting, atrocious things, we needed Stumbleupon to expose us to all the world has to offer, and give us a like or dislike button and (God have mercy) forums to interject our opinions, because the world desperately needs to know how we feel about double rainbows. (If you missed this internet phenom, you didn't miss much.) But sometimes it seems like Stumbleupon is almost like an oracular...oracle? It shows both how venomous, malicious and sometimes, startlingly awesome the world and its people are. Case in point- I love the websites Notalwaysright.com
and Givesmehope.com- one of which has thousands of examples of what jackwagons people can be, especialy if you're on the wrong side of the customer service desk, while the other is examples (not many as on notalwaysright, I'm sure) of surprising, tear inducing examples of human decency. Try an experiment- load both pages on your pc at once, and see which one you gravitate towards. Ten'll get you fifty, it'l be the one that provides all the evidence you'll ever need that human kind's trip to hell in a handbasket will be mighty crowded. Not only is it full of examples of flat out stupidity, but cupidity (e.g. excessive greed) - grandmother's steal from stores, people curse telemarketers (ok, so on a scale of 1-10, not a sin that will send you to the ninth level of hell, but, having been a telemarketer, I can say with sincerity- most of these people are just trying to do their jobs.... and I'm glad none of you know where I live so you can "return the favor.") These people mock their children, throw things at cashiers, and in every way possible try to gyp the system- these are the common man. Or so you might believe if that were all you ever read. Reading websites online has the propensity of making one cynical, because everyone can put their opinions, unedited, oh God, how they're unedited (and no, I didn't forget my own case in point, I know), their prejudices, their ignorance online. Is this how we all really are inside?
But I didn't forget the flank of my argument. On givesmehope.com, we find the other side of the internet- the community, the freedom to share anonymously the daily selfless, random acts of kindness and civility that allow us to continue to live on top of one another like rats in a cage. Examples of grace under fire, of teenagers standing up to hate, of true love (however nauseating the details) overcoming time, and other obstacles. There are so many stories out there of people everyday doing the right thing. Wouldn't it be nice if that were the majority of what you read on -line, instead of random drunken texts from textsfromlastnight or "humorous" cartoons on hipster hitler? People should be more careful of what reflection they cast in the mirror, on t.v. and on-line. The monsters we read about, are thrilled and terrified by are real. But then again, so are the angels. They are us. I can only continue to read, watch and stumble, horrified and fascinated by it all, and hope that in the end the angels prevail. Until then, I think I'll skip textsfromlastnight or hipster hitler for a few days, and maybe, just read givesmehope.com. I think we all could do with a little more lohope, don't you?

I hate mankind, for I think myself one of the best of them, and I know how bad I am. ~Joseph Baretti, quoted by James Boswell, 1766, commonly misattributed to Samuel Johnson*

*

* Don't hate- liberate!!

P.S. I Love You or DIY: My Confessions

2010-10-25T13:19:00.001-04:00

The thing about secrets is that, good or bad, they add a kind of tension to your life that can be addicting. Some people are all about the drama, the gossip, creating secrets to keep themselves occupied. Others are completely bland--at least externally, the kind of people one couldn't imagine having secrets. But we all know still waters run deep. A secret is by its nature something that can keep people apart or hold them together, creating relationships you might never have under other circumstances. They can cause you to be, and do, and act completely out of character. How many of us have secrets from each other, about each other that'd we'd never share because having a secret gives us- even if only in our own sight, importance? I have secrets- not always good ones, juicy ones- some that are just sad, and some that are only important to me and might not even be worth the determination I hide them with. Some of us share the same secrets- a feeling of invisibility, or loneliness. But who wants to be told that everyone feels that way some time? Secrets are part of our identity- of who you are. But, while your secrets might identify you, they shouldn't always define you. Who you keep a secret from or share it with- what you do with it, and how you handle it tells far more about who you are as a person than you know. No matter how well you think you know someone or yourself, you can always be surprised. And that's what's surprising, sad and sometimes lovely, about us all.

Part I of My Confessions

1. I have never been in love with someone who was also in love with me.
2. I have been skinny diving twice... and plan to do it again, because it's one of the only times I feel happy.
3. I have never seriously considered marrying anyone, because I believe any one who would marry me would have to be crazy.
4. I have seriously considered how I would commit suicide... and decided not to only because I didn't want anyone to be bothered with my remains.
5. I often dream of drowning in the ocean- it is one of my most peaceful, recurrent dreams.
6. I am more afraid of making bad decisions in my life than I am of dying.
7. I am afraid that I am the worst person I know.
8. I have few male friends because men scare me.
9. I love cooking because it is a way to show people I care about them. It is also why I rarely cook good things for myself.
10. When I am alone, I often talk to myself. I am never surprised when the voice in my head sounds different from my everyday voice. The voice in my head is way smarter than me.

Take the challenge and send a post card to PostSecret- a really great community project where people can mail in their secrets anonymously and share their secret selves with the world. Send your postcard to the address below, then check out the website for some seriously moving confessions.

Post Secret
13345 Copper Ridge Rd
Germantown, Maryland 20874
Postcard size requirements- 4X6 inches

Trade your secrets and become who you are.

Frank Warren- Post Secret

P.S. - one secret I'm glad to share. I love all of you- thanks for sharing my adventure.

Average Everyday Sane Psycho Super Goddess- or DIY: I'm Gonna Pump (Clap) You Up!

2010-10-20T10:28:00.002-04:00

I'm slamming two topics together today with my usual witty (read: haphazard) writing. I've decided that I need to get on the bandwagon and really visualize where I want to go in the next few years. As much as I've been contemplating (read: whining) about my situation, the truth is, I really have too many options right now, not too few. I feel in need of some clarification about what I want to accomplish, and since my Magic Eight Ball is currently out of commission, it's up to me to make some choices despite feeling like I'm floundering in the dark. So, two things to accomplish today; look back at what I've already accomplished and decide what I want to accomplish next. Earlier this year I did a Bucket List of things I wanted to do before I die. While I've been busy bemoaning my current state, it occurred to me (after talking to my friends and family, all of whom said "get over yourself"- thanks for the support, guys!) that I really was doing okay in my life. I had accomplished things on my list and not even acknowledged them, even though they were kindof a big deal.

Let's look at the list-

Dee's Bucket List

1. Learn to dance- the waltz, the tango, salsa- whatever.

Check- I actually can do the waltz, and got a chance to dance in a little bar in Nagasaki City for my half-birthday. (Don't ask)

2. Go horseback riding on the beach- like on the cover of a romance-

preferably with a guy with ripped abs in a poet shirt open to his navel. (grrrowl!)

3. Write a book- on anything. Just finish one.

Check- I have written the book, it's currently in revisions, and hopefully will be available soon.

4. Travel to every continent at least once. Preferably more than once. (and buy lots of tacky souvenirs.)

5. See an opera. (Not the Gotterdamerung- too much Wagner isn't good for you.)

6. Read my poetry on stage -without collapsing in a puddle of sweat.

Check- have already done this, didn't collapse, and might do it again soon.

7. Adopt-even if I'm sure I'll suck as a mother (though I have a pretty good role model. Hi Mom!)

8. Sing once in public- again, without melting into a puddle of sweat.

(I do a pretty good Tina Turner- "polite snickers in the background"- ok, fine, maybe Nina Simone?)

Check- did this too- again in a little bar on an island off the coast of Nagasaki. Tune? "Knocking on Heaven's Door"- --gospel style!

9.Buy a motorcycle- or at least drive one on my own.

10. Start my own business- and get some good advice so I don't run it into the ground.

11. Learn to shoot a gun- and hope like hell I'll never have to use one. But at least I'll know how.

12. Fall in love at least once more- and this time really pay attention,

instead of just drifting around in a rose colored fog. Those memories might be all I have one day.

(okay- maybe more than once- if at first you don't succeed and all that.)

Ummm- still working on it.

13. Wear an itty bitsy teenie weenie bikini- but not yellow or polka dot. (Polka dots make me gag)

14. Go to a really great party- I mean a New York at midnight on New Years party,

a Mardi Gras or Carnivale in Brazil type party- a party and don't stop till three days later party. (and it goes without saying, be the life of the aforementioned party. Body shots anyone? )

15. Write a love letter- and get one in return.

Check and check...Ok, I still haven't gotten one in return, but it's a start, right?

Ok, so currently I'm five for fifteen- not so bad when you think about it. So okay, some of the things on my list were a little...out there. But thinking about those things happening in my life makes me happy. So if you're gonna go, go big, even if your dream seems a little insane. Right now, I just have to decide what to do in my new year, which starts.....right now. I'm gonna put together a vision board (yes, I did see this on Oprah and it worked!) and will my life into shape. Last year my vision board had these main things on it- fall in love, write more than I had in years, start a cool new job, get in shape, and go to Japan. Curiously, every one of these things happened, although not the way I had expected. I did fall in love, I have been writing more (helloo? blog?), I did find a cool new job, and it just happened to be in ...wait for it...Japan! I don't know about you but I believe! (oooooh- in scary voice). So this years challenge?

1. Publish the first (of many) books- before Christmas.(Plug- Black Girl At Large the book will be available online before Christmas...as soon as I finish the editing!)

2. Make a decision about my next relocation- current top runners- Texas, Kentucky, Mephis, Tennessee, Kentucky, or Europe- send your vote if you like and reasons why would be good too!

3. Decide- business or culinary school- and don't vote for culinary school if all you want is free cake.

4. New relationship or adoption- or both? I'm not gettin' any younger or less selfish. That might be a hard one.

Maybe when I get the new vision board done I'll post a picture, or you can send me one if you'd like that I can add to the montage. It's time for me to get this thing we call life, off the ground. At the risk of sounding a little crazy, it really comes down to a choice of which makes more sense- being stable or being happy? Before, one move, one vision, changed my life. Admittedly,right now everything's a little topsy turvy- but if I had to do it all again...I'd do it all again. So send me your votes for where to go next. My vote is the same as always- if there's a choice between being stable and unhappy, and insane and joyful- I'll go for insanity. Care to join me?

For me, insanity is super sanity. The normal is psychotic.

Normal means lack of imagination, lack of creativity.
Jean Dubuffet

God Bless The Child That's Got His Own

2010-10-12T12:33:00.000-04:00

I didn't know how good I had it. Two months ago, I lived in a fairly nice apartment, I had enough money to send some home every month, my rent was about 150 dollars (yes, really!) and I had a Japanese car that I bought when I arrived for about 5,000 yen (around 500 US dollars.) Then I moved home. Suddenly, I feel like I'm paying to breathe, let alone move. The times, they a'changed while I was gone. Everyone knows that the recession is over (no, really it is!) But hard times are still around- it's just that those of us who maybe hadn't suffered before, now are- and we aren't doing it in silence. Forget the vast majority who has always had it hard. This is about us. (Please God, don't let someone completely ignore the obvious sarcasm and take this quote out of context. Then again, mid-term elections are coming and politicians are everywhere. It's their job to take things out of context.) At any rate, I'm incredibly fortunate that I came home to a family who were willing to house and feed me with no qualms while I try to find my place in the new America. On the other hand, when I left, I had my own house, car, no student loans, and a job that gave me a structured life and enabled me to hold conversations with other adults. Despite the love, I kinda feel sometimes like I'm on house arrest. Oh well, beggars can't be choosers. And I am currently a beggar. It's amazing how I got used to not having cable, walking everywhere and not buying clothes, books, Starbucks coffee (but I did live for weekends in Nagasaki City, which had the closest Starbucks to my island...and a mall! So it took a two hour ferry ride to get there- it was a mall!) Now I'm home with, still, no job, although there are finally some prospects (wish me luck!). This morning I lived the definition of irony... or is it paradox? While looking online for coupons to go shopping, I was simultaneously checking my stocks. I own a part of a company, and I'm still looking for coupons for Gain laundry detergent, because every penny counts. BTW, those stocks? Worth about 400 bucks- maybe more if Microsoft's new phone lifts the company's sales out of the doldrums. Yeah, I own Microsoft, baby. At least a couple of shares. It's incredible that that things that were once worth so much are now not even worth the paper they're printed on. My house, which I bought as a young teacher, is and will be worth only as much as the market downturn. It seems to be stable now but ... My 401k- let's not go there. It depresses me. My bank account? Enough for now, thanks to a southern coogking mom who always happens to have "a little too much." But it certainly feels like I'm not where I wanted to be at this point in my life. I'm 33 years old and living at home, hoping like millions of other Americans that this interview or the next will be the one. I'm hoping that the next stage in my life is going to be what I've been looking for- productive, creative, and satisfying, filled with love and a little more certainty about what "it'" is all about. I want to feel like an adult again, fulfilling my goals and (love you Mom!) living in my own space again! I'm so fortunate that I don't have the burdens that so many others are bravely carrying. But Lord, what I wouldn't give to be able to walk in my own home in my undies again. (sorry, TMI) To have my own car, a job I love, time to spend with friends, money to spend on foolishness, and to save. It's all coming, I know. And I can wait. I'm blessed. To all those who are working to the same goal, I wish you good fortune and good (job) hunting. After living in another country, I still truly believe that America is one of the greatest nations in the world. And we will lift ourselves out of our troubles again by depending on each other and working as we've always worked, for a brighter future for all. We, (I) will rely on the great inner strength that we all have, and while I can't guarantee a chicken in every pot, I can guarantee that those who work to the best of their ability will always get it (what they want, not a chicken) in the end.

It is not wealth one asks for,

but just enough to preserve one's dignity,

to work unhampered, to be generous,

frank and independent.*

W. Somerset Maugham

*Actually, I want the wealth too, but this will do. Does that make me a bad person? :>

So Not The Drama

2010-09-25T10:23:00.001-04:00

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more; it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
William Shakespeare

Save the drama fo' yo' mama, Willie. Or your boyfriend, co-workers, friends etc. Even your postman. I knew my drama was about to hit the fan when I saw our postman this morning. I had woken up feeling melancholy and a little purposeless. Ever since I came home from Japan I've been busy...really busy. Unfortunately, it hasn't been for a job. I'm still looking but in the meantime, I've been writing, cooking, cleaning, babysitting, trying to sell my house, trying to find my next adventure and feeling really distant from it all. And this morning, I met the postman, who was incredibly cheerful even at 9:30 in the morning and in his words, feeling "blessed". So why was my first thought, "Why is he so happy? There must be something wrong with him" Or with me.
While babysitting an extremely cheerful child this week, I was stressed out, tired.. and happy. Because I had a purpose. My job was to ensure that this beautiful child was happy, cared for, learning, and growing (and eating...a lot). All week long she giggled and smiled and I teased her, saying what are you so happy for? But the thing is, babies don't need a reason to be happy. They just are- the reasons come later. They also don't need a reason to be unhappy- they just are..but then they get over it. Really quickly-especially if there are cookies. All week I've been thinking about drama. How people create drama to make life more interesting, themselves more interesting- like we all need to be the over -emoting stars of telenovelas or life won't mean anything. In Japan, I didn't have to have drama- I was in Japan. Everything I did had that as its suffix. So I was terrified of humongous spiders in my tiny apartment. I was terrified... in Japan. So I was just going to the store for bread. I was buying bread...in Japan. It was a running joke among our neo ex-pat community. Everything sounds better over there. The grass is always greener and all that. So now that I'm home, in a great city, that people wait their whole lives to move to, why do I want to get out...again? Because I need drama. Or maybe just purpose. Kurt Vonnegut explains it this way.
“People have been hearing fantastic stories since time began.
The problem is, they think life is supposed to be like the stories.”
Check out the full lecture here at Sivers.org (With graphs and everything!)
People like drama because we've been conditioned to believe that's how life works. There are highs and lows and every story has a satisfying conclusion. But real life has very few real highs, though I won't quibble about the lows. They're out there- believe me. We believe that every person has the right to true love, to wealth, to adventure, and contentment. We turn relationships into talk shows, our money woes into excuses, our boredom into blame. We idolize celebrities, we stalk personalities and we polarize issues at the ballot box. We not only feel like life owes us something, we want to be larger than life altogether. Inside every delivery man and waitress , the so-called "little man", is a diva waiting to emerge like some gross, obnoxious, overbearing butterfly. Enough. I don't want to be melancholy. I don't want to invent reasons why my life is the way it is. I do want purpose, but that's on me to create, wherever I am. I don't know if a new town, or new job will give me the life I want. I don't know that staying where I am would be so bad. While I'm worried about the future, I'm still glad I have the time to think about it and where it's going. Life isn't a drama or a crap shoot. It doesn't have to be over the top to have meaning. I am where I am right now and right now things are okay. So I'm gonna take an example from my mailman and a little kid and take a deep breath- laugh at nothing and everything... and just chill. Be blessed in the here and now. And save the emoting, the whining, the pathos and tragedy for the professionals on stage. Real life is happening right now- get out there and enjoy it. Drama queens need not apply.

~ To see your drama clearly is to be liberated from it. ~

Ken Keyes

I'm Ok, You're Ok...Aren't We???

2010-09-15T15:04:00.001-04:00

Maintaining relationships takes a lot of...well, maintenance. And the question is always whether or not it's worth it. Let's be honest. The relationships a lot of us have in our lives are not ones we have chosen. Or at least not directly. If you decide to take a job, you have to have a relationship with your boss and co-workers. If you go to any group; church, sport, book club, whatever- you create, instantaneously, relationships with those folks that you've joined. Even when you shop, move house or travel- you're creating relationships, albeit maybe not eternal ones. And all relationships come with responsibilities, which we can fulfill or not. The hardest thing is deciding whether or not to fulfill those responsibilities. Say you're at the grocery, buying more wine (or you know, whatever)- for a brief moment, you make eye contact with the cashier and chit chat ("Can I use my VIC card for this?" Oh, sure. Like you've never tried to use Greenbax stamps or card rewards on wine...or cake..or whatever. Look, don't judge me.) For one brief moment, you are forced to acknowledge another person as a human being... or you do if you're a good person. (And yes, this time I'm judging you.) But sometimes we don't acknowledge people- not the grocer, not our co-worker, not a good friend, not that person we wanted to be a good friend. Because sometimes we just can't decide if it's worth it. Let me explain- being aware of other people is hard. It's hard because, in the main, we are selfish, egotistical, narcissistic people, people! (or...it could just be me...but no, I think it's you guys too.) We also happen to be loving, faithful, extremely sensitive people who don't want to be hurt and can be hurt by the most ridiculous of causes. The cut direct can be a simple as not receiving a phone call, an email or not having someone show up on time, but it still hurts. And therein lies the dilemma, the hedgehog's dilemma, to be exact. To summarize, it basically states that people are like hedgehogs (I can totally understand this simile. People really are like small, prickly mammals who forage) who want to come together to share warmth. But once the hedgehogs are huddled (nice alliteration, huh?) they can't help but prick each other with their quills. So, while they may want to be close, some hedgehogs (I mean people) may ultimately feel that the more loving act is to stay away from other hedgehogs to prevent hurting them...and themselves. It is both intrinsically introverted and loving- because loving people don't want to cause pain in anyone, including themselves. So are you a hedgehog or aren't you?
Well, at heart we all are- only we have it a little more difficult- both because some relationships are involuntary and because some are worth it- but only by our own estimation. If you've been having to think and re-think some relationships recently , maybe it's time to take a point from the hedgehog and figure out, how much pain are you willing to put up with, to be in the relationships you're in? How willing are you to deal with the fall out if you decide they're not worth it? Yelling at your boss equals both the possibility of being fired...and never having to kowtow again. Standing up to your family equals maybe being written out of dad's will...or maybe gaining his respect. Standing up to pushy friends may mean having to find new ones or deciding that the old ones other qualities are worth keeping quiet. Sometimes it means making that phone call or sending that text or email that says either I'm still really interested in getting to know you or asking the hard question -why are we still together? Not every relationship is meant to last forever, but they're all meant to have an impact. Do you curl up in a little ball when it comes to relationships or are you willing to stick it out and work for the intangible rewards good relationships can bring, and the freedom that comes with ending negative ones? In the end, you've got to love the ones you're with, so make the right choices. Then--- get to work on being loving and loved. (Now, if you'll excuse me...I've got some calls and emails to make.)

Some people come into our lives and quickly go.

Some stay for a while, leave footprints on our hearts,

and we are never, ever the same.

~Flavia Weedn,Forever, © Flavia.com

FAILBlog™

2010-08-30T10:45:00.000-04:00

This was the week of fail on so many levels.
Check this out- in the course of one week I
1. learned a former student of mine was up on murder charges.
2. Tried to investigate a house in a new city only to learn
a. it was a dump (that I couldn't really afford anyway)
b. the city was a dump too, and
c. have a tire blow out on the highway on the way home from said dump...with my mother in the car.
(Thanks to my excellent driving skills, [direct quote from the momma] however, no one was harmed during the filming of this maudlin scene... I mean, no one was harmed, thank God.)
To continue, I then
3. failed to win the Georgia lotto while in Georgia (not so bad, I know, but still not a great feeling) and
4. was hit on by a young mack daddy,who also looked like a former student, [ewww] while at my local bookstore.(Not so much a fail on my part as his, but since I was an unwilling participant, there goes one more tally on my score).
I also failed to land a job, failed to live up to my own expectations, failed to tell others to lay off me with their expectations and may have gained back the few pounds I lost while in Japan. (Damn that red rice and fish!)
At any rate, all of this together led to an, (let's say it all together, folks)-Epic Fail.
Really, it's not that bad, I guess. I mean I'm fully aware that I do not follow the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People ( and anyway, don't we all really, deep inside- hell, not even so deep inside, kinda despise those Highly Effective People anyway?) But I'm doing my best. I mean, that forced break on the side of an interstate highway did give me a chance to bond a little more with my mom. And, not getting any rejection letters from the multitude of employers I've been soliciting isn't bad news- and may give me more time to discover if any of those jobs are what I really want to do and if I'm ready for them. ( I won't even discuss whether they're ready for me.) And if I failed to win the lotto, I also failed to "win" the taxes that come with them. And as for my former student- again, I reiterate with a "sigh "- I did the best I could.
Appropriately enough, an article in today's paper cemented my feelings about my recent failures- saying that failure is an invaluable teacher. I know that that's right, if not always great consolation. Failure teaches us the price of success. We will do it over and over again, before we get it right, but each time hardens our determination, and inspires new learning, in essence making success inevitable if we don't give up. At any rate, it makes me feel a little bit better and it should make you feel better too. We all make mistakes and we're all in this mixed up world together, but every failure will take us a littler further, if we learn before it's too late.

“My imperfections and failures are as much a blessing from God

as my successes and my talents

and I lay them both at his feet.”

Mahatma Gandhi

* No need to go this far, folks. After all, we're all losers sometimes right? ..... Is it just me, then? :>

( I only hope Fail Blog will forgive my mistake- Please note; this is my official notice that Fail Blog is a trademarked website distinct from my own and in no way is my content their responsibility. P.S. -go over to their site and give them some hits, just in case!)

Plus Ca Change...? The Heck With That! or :If It Ain't One Thing, It's Another...and That's Okay

2010-08-25T18:00:00.002-04:00

"The more things change, the more they stay the same." What a crock. Since returning home, it's true that I've come across a lot of things on my nostalgia tour. Same town, same streets, same students,( yeeeeah, saw a couple of them at the local grocery store. Talk about awwwkward!) Everywhere I go is the same... except for me. It's weird. People are so happy to see me when we meet by chance on the street, but when they ask how I'm doing or what I'm doing ( which at present is nothing, but don't fret, dear readers- I mean after all, it does allow me to spend more time with you. Aren't you happy?), I find myself at a loss for words. How do I explain what I've been through, and how it's changed me to people who are still perfectly content right where I left them? I My experience doesn't show on my face (except for a few less stress lines than I used to show. And apparently, a little weight loss from a year long diet of fish and rice. Anyone interested in financing a great new diet idea?) For a year and a day (poetically speaking) I've been separated from the life I had always known...and to be honest, haven't missed it a bit. In fact, I'm more eager than ever to go again-not necessarily abroad but away... away from the people who thought they knew what I was capable of, and who still can't believe I've accomplished what I have, or that I want more. Away from a town that always seemed charming, but too big and is now only one of the millions of charming places I could be seeing and in comparison to some I have seen- not so big afterall. Away from my own expectations. I thought I would be able to fit back in smoothly, that coming home would be as easy as shucking off a kimono and slipping back on my southern accent. But it's not. It's rather more like ( gross metaphor to follow- you have been warned!!) like a snake shedding it's skin, or an insect shedding it's exoskeleton....or maybe just a butterfly coming out of a cocoon. I spent a year away from the real world and for awhile I've felt like I was struggling to get back into my cocoon, and suddenly it occurred to me that I don't really want to go back there and I don't have to. Whew, what a load off! did it really just occur to me that I don't have to be what I was before, just because I am where I was before? Sadly, in the turmoil of moving back home, and starting to settle in, yes. Happily, it didn't take too long before I remembered that settling is the last thing I want to do in life. I've been back in the home of the free, and land of the brave for about two and a half weeks. Last time, I was here for thirty two years. Guess I'm a slow learner, but eventually I get there. I don't have to stress about where I'm going to be or what I'm going to do, next. Everything I've ever needed has always been provided for me (including a swift kick to the butt, when needed). Change is growth and chaos is the fertilizer that feeds it. (Yeah, I bet you like that spider metaphor a whole lot better than this fertilizer one, huh?) But it's good to remember that an old dog can still learn some new tricks or at least new attitudes. See? Sometimes things really do change for the better.

“Change is the essence of life.Be willing to surrender what you are for what you could become.”

Garuda from Andres Salaff on Vimeo.

Never Can Say Goodbye or DIY: I Don't Know Why You Say Goodbye, I Say Hello

2010-08-12T14:14:00.000-04:00

Sorry for the hiatus, folks. In the confusion of moving home, the original blackgirlatlarge became, well, more at large than usual, if only because I had too little time to begin moving home in, and found myself in a sea of packing tape and odds and ends that had be shipped back to America. It was an unsettling feeling to pack up a life in little boxes and send them away. Without a clear goal to return to, I did indeed feel lost and at large. And since I've arrived home, I have found that I have way too much time on my hands. In my typically bi-polar manner, I find myself at loose ends, except when I'm trying to keep myself busy. Unfortunately, I am curently sans job. In trying to correct that oversight, I have been wavering between frenetic, anxious resume mailings, and online research, and staying up late and sleeping later, getting over the inevitable and unenviable jet lag, all of which results in me feeling constantly hungover and blue, hoping someone will bring me a waffle in bed so I don't have to face the day. (Which, hallelujah, someone did. Well, okay, I did have to get up, but there were waffles to be considered. Anyway,thanks, mom!)
I'm trying to jump back into the American work pool, but unfortunately, the entire pool now seems to be only the shallow end. And while I'm in the middle of being frustrated about the job market, ( I know, like seventy umpty million other people) Fate seems to think I'd appreciate the joke of reviewing my not so distant past in Japan. Like flotsam on a beach, pieces and memories of Japan have been showing up at my home every few days- pictures of my students, omiyage( that's Japanese for gifts, folks), and mementos from vacations with friends, all of it begging the question, "Why did you leave Japan, exactly?" Suitcases,boxes, duffel bags, every day a little more, all of which has to be tucked into whatever space can be found in my childhood home- talk about your emotional baggage. All of it reminding me that I left a stable job and a fairly fulfilling life in another country...to come back home to uncertainty. While I appreciate the memories, I realize that the big impact of my overseas journey still hasn't really hit me. But I have a suspicion, I'll appreciate it more, once I have achieved the "normal" life I'm now trying to resume- when it's resumed, that is. Right now, I feel like I am trying to squeeze myself myself back into a life, that while extremely familiar, is not so exciting. It's like trying on your favorite pajamas- they fit, but they're a little nappy, and soiled and don't do much for your image. And didn't I leave to get away from that? But everyone needs a starting point, and it only makes sense to come back to mine and build from there. My dream was to experience Japan, and boy, did I! From island life with too much fish, typhoons, winter cold like you can't imagine, (you with your central heating!) to tea ceremonies, dragon boat races, and the fabulous ancient beauty of Kyoto, I lived Japan. My new dream is-to live whatever comes next. What that will be, I don't know, but I'm fairly confident it will come to me. On the one hand, a girl's gotta eat. Practical matters are a concern right now. On the other hand, man does not live by bread alone. In a third hand, (don't ask where that mutant hand came from, btw) lies my future. For right now, I want to survive. But I don't want what I learned about myself to die. I learned that striving for a dream, even if you don't always achieve it, can lend a power to your life that makes even the most mundane things seem purposeful. I want to keep that in mind. Somehow, I'll manage to say goodbye to Japan and that surrealistic dream of a life without forgetting how it felt to hang over a precipice and feel alive. I'll take that feeling into the rest of my life- and hopefully, not regress into letting my job become my life, when my life should be my life. (Does that make sense?) So, it may be sayonara to Japan, but it's hello to a new life, wherever it leads me. I know I won't ever forget what I've experienced-- and because of it, I'm more than ready to keep moving on.

"When you're safe at home you wish you were having an adventure; when you're having an adventure you wish you were safe at home"

Thornton Wilder

I say, make it all an adventure, in every way you can.

You Can Get With This or You Can Get With That or DIY:Taking a Stand Against Misdirection, Indecision and Independent Angst

2010-07-12T05:50:00.000-04:00

Making choices is the essence of living. Even when you don’t consciously know you’re making choices- you are. We are constantly evaluating stimuli, and choosing the path our next footsteps will take. We are constantly making wrong turns, …or not necessarily wrong as not direct, just random turnings in the Labyrinth. We do this because we are desperate, to make the right choice, some choice, when we cannot see, and sometimes even when we can ,the consequences. We move because not moving is a decision to die. Like lemmings over a cliff, we know that we are rushing forward heedlessly, but we can’t be still in the midst of a roaring tide of humanity. We run, and we hope, always, that the trampoline is there- Deus ex machina working behind the scenes. (I don’t know, maybe lemmings don’t know they’re going to fall over the cliff – does that mean they’re lucky or not?) We are desperate and often, that automatically means stupid. We want things to be known, we want the pleasure of life without the pain or depending on your mindset, the exact opposite ( which still comes out to about the same thing). There are some of us who are so desperate, that we willingly walk into the jaws of Cerberus, or bring Hell to us, wherever we are in our misery- because in hell (maybe especially), you can surrender to a higher authority (or lower, considering the terrain). There are some of us who want to be less than we are, because it hurts less, costs less, demands less. As simple as that. But, oh, my loves, my very own, dear loves, we all know, it’s never as simple as that, don’t we?

To make choices is to acknowledge responsibility, and to acknowledge power. And there are consequences for having power, for shouldering responsibility… but there is also glory. It is your choice- anonymity or grace, knowledge or ignorance, power or powerlessness; to go striding to your destiny or be dragged along by the whims of fate. There is only one path for each of us- whether we turn and turn about or go widdershins in the circle- no matter how we circle the issue in our heads, no matter how tangled it looks on the surface, the choice is to move forward on the path or to fall by the wayside and die. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. We don’t want to do the wrong thing for the right reasons. We are scared and we long for certainty when the path of life is blocked by indecision and fear, but you cannot stand aside. You cannot step off your path. You can only decide if it will be a walk of shame or triumph. Choose today to walk the hero’s path, to be troubled and alive, and moving , to make decisions when you know that sometimes you will (not might) be wrong. Because, maybe, some choices aren’t that hard after all. To live is to choose- sometimes, simply to choose to keep living, moment by moment. The Glory Road is there for all of us. Which path will you step onto today? Choose.

“Life is change. Growth is optional. Choose wisely.”

Beware the Jabberwock or A Simple Kind of Life

2010-06-28T23:47:00.000-04:00

I'm so ashamed, I've been so mean

I don't know how it got to this point
........................................................
Now all those simple things are simply too complicated for my life

How'd I get so faithful to my freedom?
A selfish kind of life
When all I ever wanted was the simple things
A simple kind of life

No Doubt- Simple Kinda Life
Lyrics and Vocals - Gwen Stefani

Beware the jabberwock, my child, the jaws that bite, the claws that snatch-Lewis Carroll

Life can be a lot like a jabberwocky- a kind of cage that encloses you in imaginary what ifs. What if I had chosen a different path, what if someone had chosen me, what if, what if, what if. And sometimes you can’t even remember what choice you made that led you here, or what dream you had that disappeared. I often wish I had had bigger dreams for myself as a kid. That someone had had dreams for me. I wish I had had dreams at all. Most of my life has been spent working, nose to the grindstone, and looking up every now and again to realize that I had no idea where the grindstone was rolling to. I have felt trapped in that hardworking, but oblivious persona. And every now and again, when some blinding flash of the obvious hits me, I realize how little time we have, and yet I still can’t seem to use it well enough. I never wanted to be the person who scaled Everest- I simply wanted to see it happen, to know that it could be done. I have accomplished some things in my life, simply by plodding away at them, but I’ve never felt the bursts of inspirational fire that the people I admire have. I will never see in the way of Picasso- in bursts of color and abstract shapes. I will never write in the way of Neruda, cool, honeyed, exotic words. I never wanted to. Then I did. And it was too late. I thought the simple life was all there would be for me and now I find that even the simple life may be beyond me. There are so many things I don’t understand. I want to be inspired by real life, and the imagination both, and find myself existing in one, wishing for the other, and not really feeling either. Where have all the Muses gone? And why did they never touch me? Life can feel a lot like a jabberwocky- a cage that encloses you in neverending “ I wants”. I want to be special. I want to be creative. I want to be loved. The simple things in life. Is there anyone out there who knows the answer to it all? Does anyone have the key? Tell me. I want to know what would happen if only......

Can't Get There From Here or After The Wreck, I Picked Myself Up, Spread My Wings and Flew Away

2010-06-16T20:50:00.000-04:00

Desperation has a bouquet all its own. It’s the scent of the hunted, of rage and fear, adrenaline pumping from your pores. Desperation is an outstanding evolutionary culling tool, because it separates the quick and the dead, predator from prey. It sometimes feels like the world is designed to make you desperate, to place you in perilous situations- (the truth is we do it to ourselves, adrenaline junkies, drama queens that we are. We act like it makes us feel alive. By definition you’re alive, dope- the question is whether you’re living. And most of us aren’t.)
Desperation has a tendency to force you to make choices, to act. It focuses you, makes you more of what you are. If you were smart before, it sharpens your wits, sometimes enough to slit your own throat. If you were (ahem) less than stellar, you tend to get dum ber while under the wire. Desperation is like the Sword of Damocles swinging over your head. Jump one way or the other, you live or you die. Really, you live and you die. But maybe it doesn’t have to be that way. In life, the thing is, you have to realize that those desperate moments are just that..moments. They can be overcome. Life is like a tunnel and depression is like plaque in your arteries. It can make you sick, squeeze the breath out of you, make you wheeze and shake like a user in rehab. But if life is a tunnel, you are a conduit (to extend the metaphor)- you can expand. Life flows through you and in desperate times, that is when you need most to enbiggen (thanks Simpsons!) yourself, not to seal yourself in. You need to open yourself to the flow, to hope, to inspiration. If the Sword hangs above you, cut through it like Alexander. Trying to force down a big knot of pain, is like trying to swallow one of those horse sized tranquilizer pills that doctors often prescribe for “stress”. It will choke you and it won’t really solve the problem, only exacerbate it. It numbs you and makes you afraid to feel anything- and if you can’t feel anything, what’s the difference between being alive and dead? When you figure that out, it makes all the difference in the world. You can’t get where you want to be in the world by being desperate, or afraid. Desperate rats in a cage may scramble and climb, but they never get anywhere. You are not a rat- you are a conduit, a pipeline for the essence of all things. Don’t close yourself off. Don’t beat your head against the walls. Be still and listen and feel. Then move. Whatever direction you move, you’ll no longer be huddled under the knife. And even if you still don’t know where you’re going, you’ll go straight and proud, walking on the edge.

I do believe that most men live lives of quiet desperation. For despair, optimism is the only practical solution. Hope is practical. Because eliminate that and it's pretty scary. Hope at least gives you the option of living.

Harry Nilsson

Waltz For Life Will Born
I like the idea of waltzing for life- how 'bout you? Shake off your desperation today and dance!

Fight Club

2010-06-06T21:11:00.000-04:00

No positivity today. Every so often, people fall into a slump. Unfortunately, today my slump happens to be a million miles deep. I sometimes feel like I'm on the outside looking in at life, but whenever I try to get inside, I then find myself desperately wishing I hadn't gotten caught up in the whole mess. It's almost like life is a fight- a go the whole nine rounds, knock down, drag out fight, and right now life is kicking my ass. It's slamming me on the ropes, and pile driving me to the mat and I kinda feel like it would really just be best to tap out. But I don't. No matter how hard life is slamming me in the face, no matter how much I wish I could just go to the mat and let life whale on me until the blood, sweat and mucus runs down my face, (how's that for an image?), no matter how much I want the bell to ring so I can go down for the count... I don't give up. Stupid me.

I am terrified about my future, nauseous, stressed out, and would like nothing more than to be unconscious for longer than the, barely, six hours of sleep I get every night. I would like to be led by the hand to the next job, my future, whatever is coming, because right now, I simply can't see it on my own. There are too many variables, and every one feels like it is so crucial, that if I make the tiniest mistake, I will forever, explosively, f*** up my life . If I were a mouse, the future would be a snake, hypnotizing and petrifying me, and right now, licking its chops. I have never felt more like the underdog. (Ok- not true, I often feel like the underdog. Then I get over it till the next crisis. Which happens to be now.)

All I can do, is what I can do. Keep putting one foot in front of the other, take the punches like (if you'll pardon the metaphor) like a man. I feel like Homer Simpson in that episode where he gets into boxing. Dumb as he is, he simply couldn't be knocked down- (mostly because he had a layer of fat around his brain, which protected him from too much brain damage. I know. I find our similarities quite startling as well).

I'm not a powerhouse. I can't give life a roundhouse blow. I'm about as powerful as a kitten batting a piece of string. But at least I can stand. It's the best thing I can do- maybe the only thing I can do right now, till I get a better feel for the ring. Life is a struggle, a fight to the death. Maybe I couldn'ta been a contenda' (notice my Rocky accent), maybe I'm a small fry. But even the best has been known to choke in the clutch and let the underdog win. I'll stay in the fight. I'll take those odds. I'll keep going- it's the only thing I know how to do. It's the only way to win.*

“Endurance is not just the ability to bear a hard thing, but to turn it into glory.”

William Barclay

* Hmm, a little positivity slipped in there after all!

The Rainbow Connection

2010-06-03T00:48:00.001-04:00

Somewhere over the rainbow,

Skies are blue

And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.
-music- Harold Arlen
-lyrics- E.Y. Harburg

The one thing that connects us all is our unconscious. The dreams we dream as we lie asleep, on the beach, in our beds, under bridges – the visions we struggle with, and indulge in, brought about, maybe, by too much dinner, too much drink, too much stress, but all stemming from the same source. The spirit which makes us human, more than animals, less than divine, allows us to dream. To dwell in an other reality where nightmares loom, and precious fantasies are fulfilled. But, if any one knows, I do, that dreams and wishes aren’t real. Unless you make them real. I have nursed wishes like babies at my breast and been broken hearted when they didn’t come true or didn’t come true the way I thought they should have. I have , often , been wholly disappointed in dreams. They are common, like pests. An old saying, -“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. If wishes were fishes, we’d walk on the sea.” In times when I have felt so down I forgot which way was up, I held on to dreams to get me through. But now I think it is time for new dreams. Not sleepy dreams, or “maybe one day” dreams, or “if only” dreams. But real , achievable capital “D” dreams. Dreams that I choose when I’m awake. Nothing nostalgic, or yearning, but something, paradoxical as it sounds, structured. A dream with a purpose. Over the course of my life, I have often had to make a dream for myself. I don’t know what I dreamed of doing when I was a kid. I don’t know if I forgot my dreams, or far more likely, even then, didn’t really dream at all, couldn’t see myself accomplishing much of anything. My childhood was oblivious- and not in a good way. I didn’t have a talent, or a foregone idea of where I wanted to work, or who I wanted to be. I went where I was told. I drifted. But after a year abroad, I’ve come to realize that I need to create my own dreams out of whole cloth. I need to make that list and check it twice, (but don’t call me Santa!). I need to make my life a dream I never want to wake from. In Celtic mythology, Epona is the goddess of horses and dreams. If you ask her, she will accompany your path and help you to make your dreams come true. I’ve never been the most creative person, or one who had a clearly defined path before her, but now I want to make a path for myself- a real path to happiness, however hard or long it maybe. If there is nothing I have been drawn to, then that doesn’t mean that there is nothing I can do, and especially shouldn’t do, to succeed in my own happiness. Happiness doesn’t have to be just in a dream, or over a rainbow. It can be real, true, and sustained, right here and right now. The “rainbow connection” is the journey from idea to truth, to reality- my reality. I hear the call of the future when I sleep. I can feel myself yearning, wanting my deepest desires to come true. This year I will make a new dream- I will write it down, and then …I will live it. Choose randomly, choose purposefully- but choose a dream this year. Choose it. Grasp it- follow it across a rainbow, and hang on to the tail of a star. Live your waking dream, walk your “moon-lines, your apple pathways “(Pablo Neruda). Walk into your dreams this year and never look back.

Who said that every wish, would be heard and answered

When wished on the morning star?

Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it

And look what it’s down so far

I’ve heard it too many times to ignore it

It’s something that I’m supposed to be

Somewhere we’ll find it, the Rainbow Connection,

The lovers, the dreamers and me

The Rainbow Connection- Jim Henson

Make A Joyful Noise

2010-05-24T06:38:00.003-04:00

      Spent a bad weekend curled into a fetal ball eating pocky. That's leetle Japanese chocolate dipped pretzel sticks for you folks not in the know. It was a rainy weekend, but that wasn't the source of my angst. I just suddenly got the feeling that nothing was quite right in the world and nothing could make it better. Not even two boxes of pocky and that usually solves everything. I had taken a walk earlier in the rain, which normally I love, but which in this instance only made me wet, and cold. I came home feeling anxious, lonely, and unaccountably tense, almost like I was having a breakdown. Even my skin itched.
Have you ever gotten the feeling that somewhere just out of sight, behind the sets, and the bright lights that fool us into thinking we live in "reality", somewhere the real world is just falling apart? It's a consequence of being separate. Of feeling like other people aren't really real. It's that I'm the only real person in the universe, "One is the loneliest number" feeling you get when depression looms over you and you wish one person would acknowledge you.
   I think other people are better about combating this feeling than I am. It has always seemed to me like every one else is just so happy (hawk, spit- ptooey!). And I'm not- not all the time, not exuberantly happy like some people. It quite literally makes me want to go to sleep and not wake up some days. I sometimes have the feeling that if I just went to sleep in my bed one night and didn't wake up, my body would just evaporate. And I would be okay with that.
   Feeling that disconnect is not a modern problem, but it is a growing one. It's so easy nowadays to be apart from people physically, and emotionally. Here in Japan, it's a legitimate mental illness with an "exotic" name. People who refuse to leave their homes here are called hikikomori- literally "pulling away", or "to be confined" (wikipedia.org). Suffering from acute social phobias, they withdraw and repel any attempt to bring them out of their isolation. I felt a little taste of that this weekend . It's a horrible, cramped, suffocating feeling to be cut off from the rest of the world. But I was lucky- just when I needed it, someone noticed me- I got an email, a smile from a neighbor, the rain stopped- all at once. As bad as my two days were, I can't imagine how someone else who is struggling to live that way now, has been struggling, will still be struggling in a few years, feels. I made a choice a few years ago to do whatever it took to overcome my own depression- but for one weekend, I almost let it get the better of me. In the end, by luck, happenstance, pure coincidence- I didn't. (And those of you who know me, know I don't believe in any of those things.) It wasn't luck at all. It was love- love for myself. I didn't want to lose who I have become. Love from my family- who sent that email just in time. Love for life- because I'm not done here yet, and I don't want to miss out on anything ever again. You don't have to believe that what I suffered was "bad"- I'm sure some people won't have anything but condemnation for someone who spent a "weekend" depressed. It was my battle- not yours. I fought it- not you. More important than your measurement of my pain, is my measurement of my success. I didn't give in , (or at least not for long). This morning I got up, and went to my job, and spoke to friends and the world didn't wobble. That's my victory. And yes, it was one weekend...after years of being numb, unable to sleep in my own bed because of panic attacks and being unable to go to work without medication. One weekend. I am truly more blessed than I can know or appreciate. Today I heard a song I had never heard before that said exactly what I had been feeling, and miracle of miracles, I was here to hear it.   Tomorrow, maybe I'll be able to sing a song, rusty voice and all- and be glad that I am here to sing it. There are no coincidences. The war is never over, every battle spawns a new one. But victory can be won. Hope can live in the heart again in spite of the dark spaces. For today, I will whisper my gratitude that one weekend wasn't a year, or a decade, or a lifetime alone. Thank you to everyone who "spoke" to me then - by email, a smile, whatever.Tomorrow, I will raise my voice, or lift my pen, or write one more blog, so that someone else will be able to win their own battle. There are no coincidences- only connections, and consequences. If you have the time and the heart, make a joyful noise today. You won't be the only person who hears it.

"I like living.

I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable,

racked with sorrow,

but through it all I still know

that just to be alive is a grand thing."

--Agatha Christie

Always Coming Home

2010-05-17T01:38:00.000-04:00

Is your heart at home? Do you know your place in the world?
In a little over two months I will be going back home. Well, not home exactly, just back to the U.S. To what, exactly, I don't know. I really haven't missed the U.S. all that much.The things that I've been homesick for aren't really physical- although, there have been times when I would, if not kill, at least cheerfully maim someone for a Mcnugget. What I've really missed is the feeling of stability- of knowing the details of my friends lives, of feeling inconspicous in a crowd (and whoever thought I'd miss that feeling.). I miss lazy Sunday mornings in my local bookstore, and drinks with friends. I miss having a daily routine, with all the people I most care about in it. I miss the grounded feeling that home gives you- of knowing where you belong. But the truth is, I can't go back to the home I knew as a kid. I can't go back to the house I bought and made my own. I can't go back to the town I left, because I know deep down that it won't fit me anymore. Never did I guess- or I wouldn't have left. People's lives have gone on since I've been gone... and so has mine. Over the course of a year abroad, I've changed, and those who are nearest and dearest to me weren't there to see it. Will they welcome back the stranger in their friend's clothes? Maybe. Can I settle somewhere new and make a home all over again? Of course I can. "Home is where the heart is." And at heart, I am a Southern girl- who likes magnolias, iced tea and barbeque. I like good gospel music, good greens and fried chicken. But I also like J-pop, sake and (not so much) sashimi. I like the idea of weeks on the Riviera or quick jaunts to Brazil. Having opened my door to the world, I'll never be able to close it again. So what is a mixed up, cosmopolitan (hah!) jet-setting girl to do? Love the one you're with. When you don't know where home is, you make it where ever you go and whoever you're with. I've spent a year doing something I never dreamed I would. Paradoxically, I am both completely different from and more completely me than I ever have been before. A change in locale was just a kick in the pants to begin a change in me. And I'm glad I did it. Because now I know what I want- who I want in my life, what I want my life to be, what my heart longs for. And wherever I land next, I'll take that with me. I guess a year in the "real world" is a good idea for anyone who really wants to be able to appreciate exactly what it means to " go home" wherever or whoever that may be. Everyone needs a home. After all "home is the place where, when you go there, they have to take you in." Robert Frost So, I hope that all those out there who like me, have yet to find that soft landing place they can call home, find it or make it, somewhere on that country road.

Where is home? Home is where the heart can laughtwithout shyness. Home is where the heart's tears can dry at their own pace.
~ Vernon Baker

Don't Worry, I'm A Stranger Here Myself or Down The Rabbit Hole

2010-05-12T03:00:00.000-04:00

Listening to a little Nina Simone and trying to collect my thoughts, which like every day, have wandered like a flock of schizophrenic sheep. A week or so ago, I was in Korea on vacation. I went thinking that it would be easy to handle - after all, I already live abroad, right? I went without knowing the itinerary, having the correct money, or speaking Korean. Sounds familiar- when did I do that recently? Oh, yeah, when I moved to Japan. It appears that some risks bear repeating. So I went to Korea, and promptly found myself engulfed in madness, unable to communicate, at times feeling both older and more tired, and younger and more stupid than I had in - well, okay- that's how I usually feel. But usually, I have a hidey hole to escape to. This time, I was in Korea, in the middle of a market, surrounded by little old ladies with faces like wrinkled walnuts, unfortunate squids, screaming bargainers, and vendors who knew only two American phrases- "You buy?" and when I didn't want their merchandise, "Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye!"- accompanied with a shooing motion. (to be fair, I did buy a perfectly beautiful kimono- it only cost me about 20 bucks more on the market than it would have in the store. Oh well, it was a good experience anyway. But,) I really missed Japan. Then I got back to Japan and realized...I really miss America. Then I realized that it wasn't any place in particular I missed so much as a state of mind. Of knowing that I can communicate and be understood. And that hadn't happened in America, which was why I came to Japan....where didn't happen....again. At some point, I realized that I was like a rat in a maze chasing it's own tail. What I want most in the world is to understand and be understood- by myself and others. What I'm most afraid of is that I do understand myself... and there really isn't all that much to me, after all. I get tired of acting old and wise, and I'm definitely tired of feeling young and stupid- but have come to the inevitable conclusion, that for most people, that is the definition of the human condition. It's so odd the connections our minds make, how disparate thoughts come together and create our beliefs, and our personalities, and yet, how little do we understand how those neurons work. What sparks the sparks that carry the impulses and thoughts that make us, us? In the crowded spaces of my mind, I wander, picking up memories like knick knacks on the shelf of an antique store. And only occasionally do I find a mirror that shows me darkly who I am, or depending on how warped the glass is, who I could have been, still could be, could never have been, but wished desperately I was. I'm a stranger to myself and that is both frightening and strangely exhilarating. If I don't know who I am- then I can still change. I can still see myself differently. I can be free of even my own preconceived notions. If my thoughts are not in order, I can be free of them, free to think new ones. So, in a way, Korea taught me that it's okay to be a stranger, to not know the "lingo" as it were, to get caught up in the frenzy and give up any hope of understanding and to give in to feeling, to live the experience. So, thanks little old Korean ladies, (but not the one who pulled my hair). Maybe, today, and every day, I'll be a stranger to myself.... but instead of feeling frustrated with my unorganized thoughts, I'll spend my time getting to know myself anew all over again

Happiness is not being pained in body or troubled in mind.
Thomas Jefferson

Music of the Spheres or Songs in D(ee) Minor

2010-04-29T19:00:00.001-04:00

Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, (and yes, that quote is right. I researched it. "head nodding emphatically"). And it must be admitted that sometimes I do feel a bit savage. When I was a kid (waaaaay back when) the music of the time was The Mommas and The Papas, America, Abba, the Supremes, The Four Tops, Gladys Knight, and Gawd bless her, Aretha Franklin. Then it changed, and suddenly it was BoyzIIMen and Soul II Soul (and what was up with all the II’s I don’t know), but it was music that had rhythm and soul, a little bit of romance, ( and a little more sex). Then it changed again and it was Guns N Roses, Nirvana, Nine Inch Nails and Black Sabbath (and yes, I’m mixing genres, but don’t kill me- I’m getting ready to make a point here.)

For every memory I have, there is a sound- a song which just hearing it, makes me remember a time, and place, sometimes even a smell that brings up memories and shocks me into realizing just how far I’ve come. But while my memories revolve around music, I still find thattoo often I don’t dance to the beat of my own drum. I encompass a generation of changing music and changing ideals- and I realized that most of the music I like is some of the saddest, angriest music of my generation. In musical language, I am a minor lover (not like that, perverts!) I like songs in the minor key- think wistful, wailing, keening, songs or broad power ballads. I like Enya, Riverdance, wailing Indian sitars, Gladys and “The Midnight Train to Georgia”, and rock anthems all at the same time, because somehow they touch me. As if I’m the instrument being played by the music, some songs reach inside me and pluck a chord. But usually, not always, but usually- it’s a sad chord. I’d like to think I’m not a one note wonder, but I wonder if “Another Sad Love Song” (Toni Braxton, folks- before your time, I know) is all I’ll ever be able to play.

So, I figured I’d try channeling a little bit of that melancholy into a love song for an lonely black girl. Writing songs, poetry, prose- anything set to music is a good way to psychoanalyze yourself. You have to force yourself to get into a rhythm and you never know what will come out of your pen or your mouth. But whatever comes, will be your song, the song of yourself (to plagiarize..ahem, [ paraphrase] Walt Whitman).
Try your hand today at writing the music of your heart. Then, more importantly, share it with someone you love. Whatever comes out, I’m sure, will be music to their ears.

So, I wrote this song on a sad, rainy day, and believe it or not, did not use a rhyming dictionary.
I just followed my thoughts, around and around and around aaaand they came out here.
Still in a minor key, but that’s where my head was at.
Imagine, if you will, Celine Dion or Sarah Mclachlan singing this timeless classic....
or just read the poem and leave it at that.
Maestro, if you please....

Time and Silence

If I loved you like the burning sun, would you run from my harsh gaze?

If I loved you like a stormy day, would you stand out in the rain?

Can I love you like an ocean wave, drowning in the undertow?

Guess I’ll love in time and silence, and I’ll never let you know

Could you love me like the starlight, bathe me in your crystal glow?

Could you love me like the desert, stretching on forever more?

Could you love like time is nothing, say your love will never die?

Will you love me like the dawning, pure and new with each sunrise?

I could say my love is perfect, but you ‘d know that that’s a lie

I could say my love is peaceful, but my heart shifts like the tide

I could wish my love were simple, but it’s willful and unclear

And though it breaks my heart to pieces, still the remnants I hold dear

If you loved me for a moment, though it’s all you had to give

I would love you for a lifetime, though your heart I’d never win

I still love you like a river, flowing to an end unknown

I still love you like a flower, like a bud that has not bloomed

I still love you like a memory, haunting wherever I go

I love you still in time and silence, and I’ll never let you know

10 Things I Hate About You or DIY: 10 Things I Love About Me

2010-04-25T20:00:00.002-04:00

Saw a promo for a new show on the Style network- What I Hate About Me- and my first thought was, if that ain't a sure fire prescription for depression and self fulfilling prophecy, I don't know what is. Let me get this straight- the premise is people will go on a television show to talk about what they hate about themselves? But then I thought about it- and realized that the concept isn't such a bad idea- especially once I saw the execution. Guests on this show don't just have a pity party. They're encouraged to change the things they don't like in a positive way- to make real, lasting life changes. While I'm still not sure it makes for prime time television, I do think that anything that helps you get out of a groove and into making healthy changes in your life can't be all that bad. ( and the truth is, we all like seeing someone who's a hot mess be transformed, don't we? [Ok- so we really like seeing the hot mess just as much as the transformation. One thing I hate about me- sometimes I can be so petty! Oh, well- something to work on.])

So let's experiment- what are the things you hate about yourself? And more importantly how can you change? And don't forget the corollary- what are the things you love about yourself? And how can you celebrate them more?

[as always, I'll be the guinea pig-so here goes]

10 Things I Hate About Me
(okay, it's really only 5- but, work with me here)

1. I'm really judgmental. But, I can work on being more empathic.
What I really want is for people to do the right thing. But the right thing for me is not always the right thing for others. My new bywords? Practice Tolerance.

2. I'm really self conscious. But,I can learn to speak up more. What I have to say has just as much value as what any one else has to say. And more important, only I can say what's really on my mind.

3.I'm really stubborn about change. But, I can learn to look forward to change. Generally, it's not too bad and sometimes it's really fun. I just need to make sure I'm putting myself into positive situations- not reckless ones.

4. I don't take great care of myself. But, I can do better- especially once I realize that my friends and family want me to be around for a long time. Taking care of myself isn't only important to me, but to them.

5. I can be really introverted. But, I can make an effort to be more involved. Surprisingly, people actually want to see me and hear from me. I can make an effort to make more connections ( and selfishly, some connections can be really useful.)

10 Things I Love About Me
1. I'm very maternal- It makes me happy to take care of people and people appreciate being taken care of.

2. I'm really funny- even if it's only inside my own head. I can make myself laugh and that feels pretty good.

3. I'm smarter than I look- and being able to surprise people with some esoteric wisdom every now and again is pretty cool.

4. I may not be pretty, but I'm pretty strong- knowing that I'm strong physically and (sometimes) mentally gives me the courage to try new things. Pretty is as pretty does- but inner strength will take you pretty far. ( how's that for reiteration?)

5. I'm a good listener-which sometimes means I have a wet shoulder from people who need a willing ear, but it feels good to be there when people need you.

Okay- that's just a start. I will finish the list eventually- (so smooth your feathers, those of you who don't like inconsistency). But more important- do your own list. It can be pretty revealing to see what good things you acknowledge about yourself and what you know you need to change. Just looking inward is a good place to start- but remember not to stop there. Write the list, fix the list, then keep going till your pros outweigh your cons. Be the best, do the best that you can do from minute to minute- that's all that's asked.
One thing I love about you- You're the only you in the whole world. Keep on being you.

Self-love seems so often unrequited.*

~Anthony Powell

*I heart you!

and me too!

My Name is Inigo Montoya. You Killed My Father. Prepare to Die or DIY:Bucket List- 5 Things To Do Before You Die

2010-04-21T19:00:00.002-04:00

"My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

Come on! Is that the greatest line ever or what!? But seriously, if someone told you to prepare to die- you know, without the whole threat of immediate death- what would you do? What would you do that you haven't done till now, because "after all, tomorrow is another day!" (never did like Gone with the Wind- aaaand I can already feel the hate mail.) What would you do if you knew exactly how many tomorrows you had left?

It's hard to think about something that concrete when for most of us, death is pretty abstract. If it hasn't happened to someone we know or love, death can feel pretty distant. Think about it- what would it take to make sure that you were completely satisfied with the life you had lived, the direction you had taken? All most people ever really want is to be happy- but since most of us don't know how to make our way to happy, we settle for being content and just gliding through life- like driving aimlessly along a country road until you crash into an embankment that says Road Ends Here. We're always surprised when it comes like death isn't an inevitability for all of us. Perhaps we're not just woefully ignorant, but willfully ignorant. We don't want to see the end coming, though it happens every day.

If I had to say, I think that my Bucket list would be pretty short. All I've ever really wanted was to have a meaningful job- something I was passionate about. A family that I can love and take care of. To travel and see new things. To have something of my own. Right now I'm thinking about maybe, one day, running a bookstore- having healthy, happy kids running through the aisles, along with fat happy pets, and a fat (well, not too fat) happy husband. To talk about books, stories, the world with the people who come in through my doors. One day. But one day is closer than it looks- one day closer to death with the things I want to achieve undone. Today is the day to dream, to plan and to execute- to get off the pot, as it were. So here's my Bucket List- and I hope you make one too. Not only make one but achieve everything on it, and then start again. Do it all. Live it all. Just do it.