Simplicity

Sometimes you just need a reminder

2010-10-17T21:33:00.000-07:00

The Promise of Living

2010-05-11T08:21:00.000-07:00

Plenty of people miss their share of happiness, not because they never found it, but because they didn't stop to enjoy it. After living 31 years, in a body that will someday give out, in a mind that will someday expire...I think that it's time, it's time to enjoy everything. It's time to stop, and take a serious look around at everything that life touches. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, I don't know if I will ever forget the lessons from yesterday, but I do know that today, today is the only day that we can truly enjoy.

I found this video on YouTube and I wanted to share it with all of you. Perhaps you may not get the same feeling that I got, perhaps you'll not understand...but I suppose that's not the point. When you share something with somebody, it's not because you expect that they'll understand, but rather hope that they do.

There is a simplicity in life, a simplicity in human nature and in all our wheelings and dealings. After all, when you get past appearances, likes and dislikes, these material and false representatives of ourselves, when you ask people what they want...most of the time, they'll just say "to be happy". People want to be happy and maybe share their happiness with others.

Every single person I know has been through their hard times, has been through these trials in life that leave us feeling run down, desolate and fearful. Every single person has sat alone at one point wondering if it is at all possible to go on. Everybody has cried, screamed out in anguish, has felt their heart break once or twice, has felt disappointed in themselves, has felt disappointed in others. There are times in all our lives when we wonder whether we will ever find that point of pure happiness again.

...and I can't say anything that will take away that feeling if you're going through it right now. All I can do is share this small bit of happiness with you and hope that you'll understand.

The book of love has music in it: Part Deux - The start of "The letters": Sincerely me

2010-04-15T21:28:00.000-07:00

The Book of Love. I'm listening to a Peter Gabriel cover of this magnetic fields song. It's a very simple song...yet for some reason, it brings me to tears. Every time, whether it be watching the Scrubs "My Finale" episode, or just whether I'm at my apartment sitting in the shadows of the purposely dim lit room.

When I'm alone, I think about everything, everything in my life...in my past, in my future. I think about my loved ones, I think about those who left my life, those have yet to enter it. I think so much, that sometimes, it takes a song to make me stop...full stop. Sometimes, it takes a song to make me stop thinking...and start feeling.

It's on these nights, that I start to feel...myself. It's these nights where I don't feel like I have to constantly be balanced, be fair, be happy, be sad....I can just be me. I don't care if in that moment I'm depressed, or if in that moment I'm giddy...I can just be me.

I wish I could properly describe how I feel at this moment...because it's a feeling that so desperately wants to be described. I feel as though my writing capabilities fail me at these all too important times. I wish I could describe this. I wish I could put everything in me down on paper...write my heart, not just my thoughts.

I long for a song that can unlock that part of me. The part of me that isn't all laughter, that isn't all fun and games. The part of me that can get lost in a song...that can be brought to tears by a memory, that can just release something.

....and I think I may have found it.

Peter Gabriel - who would've thunk it? It's a wistful song, one that I've played and replayed now numerous times. Magnetic fields, you have brought me to tears.

There are a lot of talented writers out there, writing fiction, non fiction, philosophy, self help...God, there are so many writers. To dream that I could ever possibly near the ranks of the likes of them is just plain silly. I appreciate many different authors and genres....but I have to say, I appreciate sincerity more...

...and I find that sincerity, whether you agree with it's opinion or angle, is most apparent in books where the authors write from the heart...and it's rare. Believe me, I've written many short stories, even fiddled with poems, and it is most difficult to write from the heart. I wonder if this might be because we as human beings are conditioned to try and find colorful ways to explain the muddled messes that we are. Perhaps it's difficult because we spend so much time trying to tamp down that more raw part of ourselves in order to just survive. That's the question though...what is life if we have to constantly suppress ourselves?

I tire sometimes of writing silly stories, of making up scenarios in my head to compliment the more idealistic story-lines that I dream up. I tire of always thinking about the way things should be or the way things can be.

This craft, writing from the heart, it's tricky. It's hard because it exposes ourselves to this thing called truth. It's hard to realize that sometimes the feelings we have are irrational, make no sense, have no solution, isn't a mathematical equation....basically, it's hard for me to admit that sometimes, I can't talk or think myself out of my feelings.

and I "think", that is the most frustrating thing.

Maybe a song alleviates some of that angst...maybe it breaks apart some of the frustration...or maybe it just pulls at my heart strings enough that finally my heart will pull through.

This is the start of "The Letters". My own personal project of writing from the heart. Sigh...here we go..

THE BOOK OF LOVE

The book of love is long and boring
No one can lift the damn thing
It's full of charts and facts and figures and instructions for dancing
But I
I love it when you read to me
And you
You can read me anything
The book of love has music in it
In fact that's where music comes from
Some of it is just transcendental
Some of it is just really dumb
But I
I love it when you sing to me
And you
You can sing me anything
The book of love is long and boring
And written very long ago
It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes
And things we're all too young to know .....

Notions - silly rambling thoughts

2010-02-23T21:13:00.000-08:00

I think it's high time for another purging of useless thoughts. I've been obsessed lately with the term "human condition". For some odd reason, the term always pops in my brain when I'm driving to work. I don't know if it's because I'm finding myself in more urban setting while driving to work, where the variety in every crowd accompanies me...or if it's because I have more than sufficient time now to think...every morning...thinking, about everything under the sun.

The human condition. I won't even try to pretend that I have any idea as to what the actual definition or experience might be. After all, I suppose that I can only accurately describe my own experiences, however minimal they may be. I'd like to think that there is a silver lining to the human condition though. My optimism, always the surreal caffeine induced realist.

When I look at people when I drive, and oh how I look, and wonder, and look again (yes, I still drive...just a bit distracted.haha) I start to imagine a lot of things. What are their lives composed of? Which people may have been where and when, with whom and why, and of course how so. I wonder if I've ever met any of these streetwalking strangers, perhaps at a service level, perhaps in an elevator, perhaps to borrow change. It's strange to think that the person walking down the street, face hidden by a hoodie, donning a backpack, wearing pants that lazily sag from mid butt level, could be the crisp waiter that I met the night before at an upscale restaurant, while taking out a client...

I wonder about the percentage of those strangers I see each day that are brokenhearted, or lonely...or perhaps are grieving the end of some type of relationship, whether to heartbreak or natural causes. After this waft of depressing thought, I think about what percentage of these people are in love, or blissful or found their lust for life. I relentlessly hope the latter percentage is the majority.

It's almost akin to walking down a crowded street filled with people from all natures in life. Past the immediate judgments that unfairly enter my socially and culturally trained mind, I start to try and peer behind appearances, behind attire, behind dialect, behind exterior attitudes. Not always being successful, as you can really only reasonably gather so much in the nanosecond that it takes you to pass somebody by on the street (unless you truly want to look like a creep), I have to rely on my overactive imagination. I admit, I start making up stories in my head. Short, tiny, false biographies of the strangers I pass by start popping up.

Anyways...I had to get rid of this silly little diddy in my head.

Value

2010-01-18T22:24:00.001-08:00

I found out today that one of my high school buddies, her brother passed away. Though I was not close to him, I knew who he was, exchanged witty repertoire several times with him in the high school halls, and regardless of my distant relationship with his person, I'm still sad. I'm sad for his family, for his loved ones and for the people who now may never have the opportunity to know him.

and I think of value.
Valuing those who are still in your life, being grateful that each and every day you have with them is a gift. I know this is quite a cliche, and it's a shame that it takes tragic news to remind us of that which is important.

It's easy to take people for granted, to take their comfort, their friendship and their love in an easy come easy go fashion. We know deep down inside that without those people in our lives, we would be lost, lonely and scared at times.

Why does it take a tragedy to remind of this? Is everything else in our life so important, so immediately demanding of our attention that we forget the most the important thing of all?...the love that people share?

Why?

Bliss Full

2010-01-06T23:46:00.000-08:00

So tonight I enjoyed spoiling myself with live music, Guinness and the company of a dear friend. In the midst of our conversation surrounding the broke state we both happen to be in, we ironically started down the avenue towards opening a business. A baking business. A baking shop...rather a cafe. I must say, it was quite possibly one of the most stimulating conversations I've in a while. It was as though we opened up the chests full of our dreams and just poured them out. We talked about cakes, cupcakes, savory pastries, coffee, espresso, artwork, music...it was basically a girl's dream come true. I think I truly came to the realization at this point that our dreams...they're really up to us. Anything is possible as long as you are willing to put the grit in it.

I don't know if this bakery will actually materialize, but that doesn't take away from the vibrant conversation...and I feel alive, more alive than I have felt in quite some time.

You never know...what the future holds.

The Affected

2010-01-04T23:22:00.001-08:00

Prequel
http://jaywhyjay.blogspot.com/2009/08/stay-where-there-are-songs-gypsy.html

Recently, I began thinking about the affected. "Affected". It has such a negative connotation to it, however it really is just a human phase. The way I perceive "the Affected" is just a state of life. A place that every single person has visited, or will visit. This is a place of uncertainty, a place where the constant tug of war between a time and circumstance induced freeze of emotion and a flight of freedom (letting go) takes place. The beautiful thing about the affected is that we all can claim to have been there, or at least seen a glimpse of it. This is what I find beautiful I guess. It's strange I know, but there is a connection between all humans, a common set of experiences, never mind the details, but a common experience of having been hurt, or disappointed, and yet having to rise above the disarray. It is this common feeling, that I think spurs empathy. There are other emotions as well, such as happiness and pride, but this particular one, the recognition of the affected, it seems most sincere. The affected will move on, and they may find their lust for life, and they may find happiness, but until then, they're recognized and appreciated, because in them, we might see ourselves and be reminded of when we were once "affected".

I guess this is why I like disaster movies so much. Yes the action is fantastic, the CGI thrilling, but really, what I like the most about disaster movies is that they're basically humanity movies. For a second, we forget all our cosmetic differences and are bound together in a cause of survival. The most important part is that we as human beings are bound together.

Why does it take a disaster to push that bond, when we have all been through mini disasters in our lives, and can easily relate to others through those experiences?

Oh my, here I go being way to idealistic again. Perhaps I lost myself in a dream again, but isn't all future really a dream until we wake up the next day?

THEY will not force us!

2009-11-09T21:12:00.001-08:00

Sing it MUSE.

and while you sing it, can you please singer LOUDER! Sometimes, sometimes, it's all about sitting at home, listening to music, blocking yourself off from the world, (Fat cats had a heart attack) and just reminding yourself exactly who it is that you are.

Sometimes, we all need reminder, that beyond the work, beyond the friends, beyond the loved ones, beyond the family...we are we. We are individuals, with no carbon copies, unique in everything that we've done.

I had a friend tell me yesterday that I have a tendency to look away when talking with people. In fact, he was so specific as to mention that I my eyes dart around. Funny, how it's not until somebody has the balls to say something that you are finally aware of some your own quirks. I'm not ashamed...I mean, these are MY quirks, and you'd be hard pressed to find anyone that doesn't have them.

But this is what I am talking about, the very fact that we are all unique.

and isn't that awesome?

We really aren't that daft

2009-10-28T15:04:00.000-07:00

This is a warning for all guys out there. Girls, they're really not that daft, and they KNOW, they KNOW what you're doing, what silly stunts you're pulling and they're just biding time. Yes, sometimes we gals trip up. I mean we'd like to think that guys are well meaning, that they are full of courage and good will, but the fact of the matter is, sometimes we're proven wrong. Sometimes, we actually walk up to the firing squad, shake hands with our would be assassins, comment on how nice their hair looks today, and even go so far as to point to our hearts and say "aim here". But most of the time, we're well aware and if we choose to wait it out, it's for very good reason.

I have a good friend right now, who is going through a specifically common situation. She fell hook, line & sinker in March for a guy who seemed all but perfect for her. He wined, he dined, he got her gifts, promised her a future, whispered sweet nothings, you name it, he did it, a regular wolf in a Prince Charming human suit...then "poof" GONE. Seven months of heavy courtship by the dude, so yeah...she freaked out, then proceeded to fall swiftly apart after he pulled the "fade".

Ahhhh, the "fade". I wonder if guys really think that girls don't have a clue. I mean, do they really think they're getting away with the "fade" or the "lift out" or by using the girl as a "placeholder"? I mean please, you guys out there...who do you think you're kidding. Just because a girl giggles, smiles, grins, does not mean she isn't fully aware of what you are up to. Most girls are taught to be pleasant, to be polite and cordial. This translates itself in the dating world by them just seeming to grin and bear everything.....that is, until she leaves your sorry ass behind....and grins and bears in another direction.

What's even worse....if the guy knows and is actually counting on the girl catching on. I understand after only a couple of dates, but seven months? Then, the guy's a coward...sorry, there's no better way to put it. Man up...seriously, just man up...especially after seven months...damn.

I know this sounds rather harsh, but to be quite honest, I am so sick of the game. Truly, my patience for the game has reached the point of no return. I don't know if it is the failed marriage, or the line of bullshit I've heard all my life from guys, or the line of bullshit I've served all my life to guys, but I'm tired of the game. I've been there, I've done that...and when I see my good friends go through that same thing...it really irritates me.

We're all misfits really. We all, none of us are perfect...and of course we all make mistakes. But there comes a time when we have to just deal with the unpleasantries of relationships ending.

People in general are quite beautiful, capable of amazing feats and generosity. People are deceptive and most times, it can be in a good way. The most quiet person out there could have the biggest heart and the most refined mind. The loudest person out there could be the most sensitive soul...the point is, you never know...and you won't know, unless you give people a chance. But don't play games...not with me and certainly not with my friends.

...or I will squash you with my thumb.

Explore

2009-10-16T21:01:00.000-07:00

My heart yearns to explore, go see the world, go see the beauty, go see as much as my eyes will allow. Is it so bad? Is it so unattainable? I am coming to find out that as much as we all need security, this life is only as long as the minute you are living. We will all make mistakes, we will all have to delve in responsibility, but can we deny who we are? Isn't it about time that we recognize what makes us move, what pushes us to wake up in the gentle hours of the morning?

That's why I wake up early, with the birds, with the sun, because who knows?...Who knows what will change next. If when I woke up in the morning, the sight that I see is that last sight to be seen, I want to get as much of it as possible.

People may call you crazy, they may say you're aloof, they may push too hard, they may wither away with time, but their memories, they imprint themselves in your actions, in your words, in your life. I don't think it's bad to look at each person that you meet, and find that something that you can learn from, that something that is different from you and thus beautiful.

I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I don't remember some of yesterday's lessons, but I do know that a word, a video, a smell, a sight, a human being or hopefully many human beings can change your life.

Sometimes you have to let go of those with whom you don't mesh well with, primarily for their own good, because you wouldn't be the best person you can be around them. Sometimes, you have to hold dear the people that do understand you, the people that don't need spoken words to explain your thoughts.

Life is beautiful. It holds with it such promise...so many possibilities. You can't force it, you can't orchestrate it, but you should most definitely explore it. Wrap your warms around it and squeeze, feel the wind in your hair, feel the sun on your face, feel the night sky open and the morning sky greet you.

It may sound kooky, but we are dependent and intertwined with most everybody that we meet and many with whom we don't. This connection between all of us is what allows us to feel other's pain, laugh with their triumphs, and smile with understanding.

But we never really stop exploring do we? Each day, each minute, each second...leads to a completely different adventure and thus, perhaps should be made the most of.

Bored...bored bored bored

2009-10-13T15:04:00.000-07:00

I am a hair's away from discontinuing my Facebook account, not because I'm too good for it, but because it is becoming a sure reflection of how bored I am right now with life. I suppose to some, a non eventful, placid life sounds somewhat appealing, however I am not one of those people. Now excitement is not quite the same thing as "drama filled"...I don't need any excitement filled with drama...no, I'm talking about the excitement that accompanies travel, experiencing new things, taking new classes....basically all dependent on not being broke...which unfortunately, my silly ass happens to be at this current time.

That's okay, I know things will improve and that this current stasis of complete mind-numbing boredom will dissipate soon.

But wow, it's all I can do to not go jump out in the rain and do a dance through the neighborhood....just to feel alive again...

p.s...YES, I do recognize that if this is my problem in life, than life's pretty damn sweet.....

Angerball 2x

2009-10-09T16:55:00.000-07:00

Okay,

I think today truly topped the cake. Not only am I seriously starting to doubt my ability to get over this anger, but I'm also not able to do the one thing, the ONE thing that would assist me in getting over it.

So my car company still has yet to send me the money they owe, and I think my bank is tra la la laing in their festive overdraft charges....it's gotten to the point where I just want to call them up and say "lookey here assholes....have you looked at my account lately? I mean seriously....do you really need to overdraft the overdraft charges? Is that truly necessary?" The thing that burns me up the most is that this was not my doing. Thank you car company, I know you guys are hurting in this economy, but wow....

So usually when I get this angry, this pissed....I drive, and I go on a nice, long, soothing drive, preferably out to the Pacific Coast Highway, so that my mind might finally start to chill out.

You know what's ironic...I can't go on a drive...because I have zero dollars for gas, because the car company hasn't paid me back yet, and my bank is still charging me....hahahahaha

So now I am dealing with a severe case of Cabin Fever in the small dinky town that I live in. I'm tired of staying home every night, I'm tired of eating spaghetti and Leggo my Eggo waffles and I'm tired of not even having the choice to leave.

Ugh....so right now, as my hand pounds angrily on my keyboard (because although I being force fed broke-ness, I still work like a madwoman), I have reached nuclear status with my Angerball....

It's angerball time.

2009-10-06T10:13:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning sick...coughing, stuffed up, my ears were melting into my throat....and my eyes were dry. As if this wasn't enough to start the morning out on the miserable side of the teeter totter, I also found out the the BMW account managers who were supposed to credit back my account for "accidentally" charging me twice in September, managed somehow with all their MBA's to instead credit back a different account, one that doesn't even belong to me...oh, and overdraft charges that the corporate bigwigs at BofA still feel necessary to charge people, even in this downtrodden economy...yeah, I got charged those too because I was depending on the BMW credit being back in my account.

Whoops....so I woke up this morning, not positive, not optimistic...but downright angry. I am angrier than I have been in a long time....and it almost feels good...like a release. Being optimistic, being happy....it's hard. It's takes effort and it gets quite exhausting. I hate anger, nothing ever good comes from it, but you know what, sometimes, it is exactly what the doctor, psychologist, therapist...whatever, it is exactly what I need.

So let me lay it all on the line, the cold reality of my tepid life.

Career: it's at a stall, that's all I can say. I have big things planned, but it's all at a stall until 2010 miraculously rolls around.

Friends: Got em, love em,

Love: Lost it...oh well, whatcha gonna do you know? Just waiting around for the next big one

Life: Still love it, but really really angry at it right now. That's okay, I'll simmer down at some point.

I am so angry, so fed up, so...so tired of trying to be okay with things. Maybe that's the problem, you don't have to always be okay with eeeverything. Maybe that was my problem....trying, desperately trying, to be okay, and find the good in everything.

Sometimes, you just need to be an angerball.

Oh I love the Dance

2009-10-02T15:49:00.000-07:00

Oh Garth Brooks...sing it, sing it!

The Dance:

Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared beneath the stars above
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known you'd ever say goodbye
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
Holding you I held everything
For a moment wasn't I the king
But if I'd only known how the king would fall
Hey who's to say you know I might have changed it all
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
Yes my life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain but I'd of had to miss the dance

It's easy to have regrets, not so easy to see what's right in front of you...the beautiful life that you might ignore. I would not change anything though. In the end, people are people, they make mistakes, they act poorly, they step up to the occasion and they act grandly. I thought about it and I can't hold the negative as I would hope nobody would hold onto the negative with me, it's too slippery and it smells. I ...I wish people well, I wish they find happiness and I hope someday we can all dance again.

Slow start

2009-09-29T00:26:00.000-07:00

These last couple of days I have had ample opportunity to throw back my head in frustration, flail my hands in the air....and dream of that one special day when I can pull an "Office Space" on my work laptop.

It'll be a celebratory moment. I'll bring balloons, a keg, and confetti....I'll invite all my co-workers...and we will stand in a circle and bash in my work laptop with any long stick like contraption we can find. We will abuse the laptop, stomp on the slowing technology, bodyslam the withering monitor, and chuck the wireless mouse into the wild green yonder....

Until then, I will slowly age each morning as I watch my laptop take over 20 minutes to start it's day. I have half the mind to pour coffee on the damn thing....with the hopes that the caffeine will speed up the process...or short out it's wires....and I will let loose a satisfied... nay, exhilerated laugh of achievement and relief.

I now have to resort to getting to work 20 minutes earlier...just so I might start my workday on time. I'm a morning person, but this is getting ridiculous. This is cutting into my beautiful morning routine of coffee, cigarette, and zoning out...and I will not have it.

I suspect that one day soon my subconscious is going to drive me to work in the middle of the night, swiftly snatch my decrepit laptop, and hurl it off the bridge...at which point I will do a little dance and skip off into the midautumnnight's dream.

Until then, you may find me with my head banging against the desk and my sighs escaping in iambic pentameter.

Your Blog is Freakin Fabulous!

2009-09-28T23:40:00.000-07:00

My very first award...and from a blogger whose writing I very much admire and whose ironic sense of humor is quite refreshing. Thank you Kasabiangirl!

Rules of the Award:

* List five current obsessions.

* Pass the award on to five more fabulous blogs.

* When you post your five winners, make sure you link them as well.

* Don’t forget to let your winners know they won an award from you by leaving a comment on their blog.

5 Current Obsessions.

1) Starting my non-existent currency collection from other countries...this may take a while...preferably I will start out with a nice currency collection from here in the U.S (aka - savings account)

2) The Beatles

3) Walking aimlessly, with no destination in mind and becoming more adventurous...I might even turn down some one way streets...ooh, daredevil

4) Learning how to blow glass

5) Jack London

My 5 Fabulous Bloggers

1) Confessions of a Cinnaholic - This girl is seriously one of the most well informed vegans I know. I'm not vegan...but her delicious recipes, dedication to the cause, and series of delectable blog entries make me wish I could be one.

2) Extranjera - Everyday, everyday I laugh to the point of tears at her blog's entries...I'm not kidding, everyday.

3) Heliotrollop - The amount of detail in her blogs...seriously...amazing...

4) No Telling - artistic, humorous, informative...all in a blog's day's work

5) Simplify - one word - beautiful

Beatlemania

2009-09-28T10:51:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I listened to the Beatles....all night long. This originally was sparked by yet another silly online character quiz (I love these...they are so random and sometimes...so damn wrong). The quiz was "What 70's song best describes you". There were so many different directions this could have taken me...but the result...."Let it be" by the Beatles. Because I generally become inspired by random events, I deftly scrambled through my CD collection and found the Red #1 Beatles Hits.

Now...I just want to drive into Beatlemania...dream, drive, Beatles, dream, drive, Beatles. I remember the last time I had a serious Beatles soiree, it was in 1995, when I was on a bus trip up to Portland....everything Beatles....all trip long.

Do I think that McCartney/Lennon & sometimes Harrison speak to my heart? Certainly...after all, I am admittedly a corny and silly girl....but you know, sometimes...sometimes certain songs are perfect...for the moment, either the moment in your life, or the moment in the day. With some songs, when they pop into your subconscious and start meddling with your memories, or playing with your imaginations...those songs....wow, can't even describe the feeling...

...why do I even try? Some things are best left unexplained....it may be easier to enjoy it that way.

Why do we overthink things? When looking back at some of the events or situations that we overthought, how many times were we actually accurate in the assumptions that we formed? In the end, really, why do we even bother trying to anticipate what will happen next, or how somebody might act...or react?

Why not just "Let it be"?

Sardinia

2009-09-23T23:15:00.000-07:00

Very short entry here...

but I couldn't let this night go without addressing one of the most quintessentially beautiful pictures I have ever seen. In fact, my eager senses were so impressed, that I immediately saved this picture as my desktop wallpaper...yes, I know what I like

Well the picture is above...and if you squint...you can see where I plan to be someday. Can't see?...well with the assist of a friendly orange circle...perhaps you'll get the idea...

The fact is...I've come to the resolution that life is not an either/or...in fact...it is all about "and". You can have freedom "and" love, you can have success "and" charity...you can have dreams "and" reality.

So someday...hopefully, I'll have some of the above "and" Sardinia ;)

For now, I'll just have to helplessly salivate over the image of a dream place I will visit.

Weird Week

2009-09-23T14:42:00.000-07:00

Thus far, this has been one weird week. This isn't because anything particular happened...a meteor didn't slam into my hometown, I didn't discover a new type of flower or anything, no...it's just been eerily weird...with no explanation whatsoever.

I'm having vivid dreams....the type where you wake up and go "wtf?". Most dreams are a tad high on the crazy spread, but this week, my dreams have been way off kilter. People whom I haven't spoken to in over 8 years have popped up in my dreams, with an uncomfortable familiarity. Just one example....my old good friend from high school, who has been traveling, got married and with whom I haven't spoken since that one fateful day he advised me to go to travel school (a very good piece of advice, one that I actually followed), popped up in my dream. He was divorced, and was going through a legendary piece of drama regarding....eggs....EGGS?.....again wtf?

I also have been experiencing dizziness...rather, vertigo...and it's now lasted over a week. It's so bad that I actually dusted off my medical card and made an appointment with my doctor...only to be told "hmmm...that doesn't sound good"...really? No kidding?....so now, I have to get bloodwork done...eww needles...and the preliminary diagnosis she gave?....low blood sugar....great....

To top this all off, my sleep pattern has emerged on this crazy train as well....I'm getting tired way too early, only to wake up in the middle of the night ready to take on the world?....only problem?....the side of the world that I happen to live on....it's ASLEEP!

So this week....it's eery, quite unsettling...and weird....and it's only half way through. I'm just waiting for turkeys to fall out of the sky, for the moon to start singing....and for my dizziness to manifest itself into an invention that could earn me millions of dollars....preferably so I could travel to the part of the world that happens to still be awake when my sleep pattern does it's number on me again.

A crazy idea...I know we've all had it...

2009-09-18T13:02:00.000-07:00

Right,

So the world is mixed up with many different types of people...we all know this, we all have our pocketbook philosophy that we share whilst drunk in a crowd of somewhat adoring fans (all drunk as well). So I am almost completely positive that we all have thought about this at one point....thinking....wow....the world....what a beautiful utopia (again....we are caught in optimistic drunken stupor)..

...and we think...."What would it be like, if everybody just got up at the same time and started dancing in the streets?.....better yet?....what if everybody got up, danced in the streets and continued to do so for an hour (for those that are physically disabled...you can be the delightful judges of our dancing capabilities...or lack thereof)...what do you think would happen? Who would man the electric grids? Who would run the cable cars?....and why would anybody need to be on the cable cars?....who would feed the animals...screw it...let them out too?....I'm sure the emu could teach us a dance or two.

So why don't we do this huh? Instead of laboring over the latest domestic universal public option/ no public option healthcare debate, instead of watching Kanye West temper another tantrum....let's just step away from it all....and dance

Shake Shake Shake our groove thing....we all have a groove thing...you may not want to admit it...but we all do....the inner John Travolta, or Patrick Swayze (*cry*), or Mikhael Barishnikov (no spell check needed, I know it's horribly spelled wrong)....we all have it....why not share it with the world?

(okay...maybe not the world, because the camera men/women who would be doing the sharing of our chicken dances or emu dances...well they better damn well be dancing too.)

Step right up...and please bring your tums

2009-09-15T16:17:00.000-07:00

"Oh Shit, not this again..."

I was driving to work today, and right next to me, driving as though hell or heaven wouldn't wait, was an old lady in a tiny red convertible...complete with kerchief in her hair.

I laughed wholeheartly at this site...because for a slight second there, I envied her....only hoping to imagine what it must be like at 7:30am to be riding with the top down....and a kerchief in hair.

What a great release, and I started to wonder about that little ole lady. What was her life like? What did she use to do or still do for a living? Was she Thelma or Louise?...or did she live her life lonely...yet free? I wonder...is loneliness & freedom symbiotic? Can you not have freedom without being lonely?

I'm back in the single world again...and it's much like wading through a cest pool of drunken philosophies. I did a tally yesterday, and realized much to my horror that I am now currently the only person not dating or in a commited relationship out of all my semi to close girlfriends. After downing a handful of tums to relieve the achy churning in my stomach...I sighed and collapsed on my couch for at least 20 minutes straight. For anybody who knows me...this is a great feat...staying anywhere for 20 minutes straight. If I'm ever in the same place for longer than 20 minutes...I really have to want to be there.

Now I'm getting offers left and right "I have a great friend that you should meet"..."My co-worker is really nice"...."have you tried online dating"....ugh...more tums please...

I've become that friend. The friend that everybody secretly feels sorry for, but invites to gatherings just so they don't feel completely inept. The one that gets force fed the fix up and "you should meets"....

I'm also getting a healthy dose of "You should do this"..."Wear this"..."Be this way"..."Be that way".....

Or...

Even worse...I'm getting the "Oh man...it's really tough out there....sorry girl"...argh!

I'm starting to understand the allure of arranged marriages.....at least that way you don' t have to worry about some of the absurdities to be found in the dating world...you'd be free to concentrate on other much more grounded subjects...like how to crochet...or how they make tootsie roll pops...or glass blowing...

They need to have a self help book out there called "How not to be the person you are, without losing who you are just to find that one individual who appreciates who you are"

or...perhaps you wouldn't be forced to feel so awkward...like you're being sold at a horse market..."step right up....this here is a fine mare...great hind legs and teeth to match!"....hey...maybe they should have those for humans....

step right up....and make sure to have tums with you!

Walked it off...

2009-09-14T10:57:00.000-07:00

So,

I'm back, out of the hole that I cozied up in, took my head out of the sand..whatever...

I went on some extremely long walks around Pleasantville this last weekend...and for some reason, I don't know why I didn't do it sooner, but for some reason, it was truly the medicine I needed for the onset of delirious depression that was threatening to take over my life. If only I had known that really all it took was a nice long, long, long walk....just to put everything in such clear perspective.

It was beautiful I tell ya, walking past the eclectic gathering of petite houses, taking in the aroma seething out of the varietal flowers & trees....slowing grazing the crickety ole picket fences with my fingers as I daydream walked by....and smiling at every single person on the street. Have you ever done that...smiled at every single person that you walk by. You'd be surprised (sometimes they were as well), but you'd be surprised at how many will smile back at you. Each smile I gave and received, it was...well to be absolutely corny...it was like a piece of my heart came back again....each smile, another piece of my heart...to the point where I felt full...and ready...ready to focus, ready to smile again (and actually mean it), ready to....just live.

This last weekend's weather was treacherous. I was walking in an environment full of crisp gloom...but for some reason, the air was so alive, so refreshing. I loved walking in the puddles, I loved having the rims of my pants dabble in the damp wetness that accompanies walking in the rain....oh and I relished holding my umbrella, walking around like the girl on the cover of the Salt cans. I loved every minute of it....and the wonderful thing?....I can revisit this beautiful daydream every day if I so desired.

We never know what our future brings, but I do know one thing....and that is that I'm kind of comfortable not knowing...waiting eagerly to be surprised...and not scared...not fearful...and knowing that as long we stay true to ourselves, as long as we walk to the beat of our own drummers, then those who would love us, care for us, befriend us...despite our misgivings, then those are the ones who you will walk with.

Others, they'll pass you by on the street, you'll smile at them, they may smile back...but people come and go...and some stay...like strangers on the street...some people, they were just meant to be the friendly pedestrians in your lives.

So past all the aches and pains of our mistakes, past the continuous self doubt that resonates in our minds, past the longings of our hearts, there is this path of peacefulness, this path of contentment that can be found....if we just got up, out of our holes, and walked it off...

....walked into the sunset...with our dreams in front, and our past trailing behind...

Eloise - An introduction "The Call" (Part 1)

2009-09-11T20:55:00.000-07:00

Eloise Dvorak is a twenty-nine year old successful editor, working for one of the most prominent publishing firms in New York City. She appreciates this booming metropolis as her personal haven, where the hustle and bustle of everyday life only complements her excitable and outgoing nature. She lives in an apartment in upper Manhattan. This apartment is furnished with all the delicate treasures that Ms. Dvorak feels personally describes her style. Her style depicts a very modern and trendy disposition. She maintains friendly relationships with a majority of her co-workers, and is well accepted in her neighborhood as a pleasant patron. She has one household companion to share the happiness in her abode, calls her loyal friend "Hot Dog" and is at ease spending nights cuddling with her friend while watching that night's sitcoms. To put it quite simply, Ms. Eloise Dvorak is happy, content, and grateful for the continuous harmony that blesses her life.

Ms. Dvorak receives a call during the Thursday night line-up. This call is one of great urgency, it's only purpose to deliver poignant news. Her once satisfied manner is now clouding with the responsibility of the information being passed over her telephone. Eloise Dvorak must leave at once. She drops the crossword puzzle that she just five minutes was working on feverishly. "Hot Dog" senses the changing mood in the once cheer filled apartment and whines with displeasure. Ms. Dvorak picks up the phone to call a neighbor, one who most certainly will assist her during this time of need and makes arrangements for the care of her dog. Ms. Dvorak's trip is indefinite. She has no idea of returning within any boundary of time.

tbc.

WMH (Weapons of Mass Happiness)

2009-09-11T13:40:00.000-07:00

I think that I'm drowning in a sea of faux happiness. What I mean by this, is that I have mass produced so much happiness in my little factory of imagination, that I don't know what to do with it. It's an issue of supply and demand really. Now I have a stockpile of WMH (Weapons of Mass Happiness) that are just sitting there, festering in my warehouse corner.

There is only so much that a person can take. Only so many smiles, so much laughter that one person can internally produce, before they become exausted, tired...even sick. Yesterday I was sick...but it turned out not to be the viral kind of sickness, but the "God I'm sick of it all" sick. I think it was my body's way of telling me "knock it off"....and the fact that I ate only one banana and a handful of trail mix the entire day probably didn't assist my health.

In the midst of this summernight's dream is also the issue of writer's block. I'm sure we've all heard of the problem "no inspiration"...but this is the first time that I've experienced "too much inspiration". I would like to be a bit less inspired right now. Too much stimulation and inspiration is knocking me off my center...my core....and I'm just drowning, flailing in inspiration. You know the saying, "can't see the forest for all the trees"...basically that describes my mood perfectly.

I can't stop thinking about people, and life...and it's meaning...and it's rather pointless, because I don't subscribe to the idea that we will ever know the meaning of life.

People don't want to see you depressed, they tire of you being a downer, so sometimes you have to mass produce happiness, so at least they'll feel like everything's okay...but what happens when you over produce happiness...and nobody ordered it? Is it like fruit?...if you don't use it...does it go bad?

This is why I need to volunteer or get into sports, or try new classes....my happiness needs to go somewhere....

Tread Lightly

2009-09-07T21:44:00.000-07:00

Tread Lightly on the life. That's the advice that somebody gave me a while back. Tread lightly, because sometimes, if you leadfoot your way around, then you may end up driving yourself and everybody around you crazy.

So I tread lightly, but now I fear I tread too light...like a dandelion seedling...a quick huff and puff will blow it all away. Helping me find the long sought after balance in life....sitting there in their seats cheering my stupidity and triumphs along....are friends.

Today was awesome...everyday generally is really, but today was fantastic. I had the pleasure of seeing two of my closest girlfriends....and close friends, they're few and far (I mean far....I traveled over 90 miles today) between, but man, it's good to have them. Friends are my lifeblood...they're the ones who make your insides giggle, your outside shake with laughter...they're usually the reason for my permagrins. They're also the ones that I email at work when feeling extremely down, the ones who I text when experiencing some ironic something or nuther, the ones I call when I just need to verbally ventilate.

...and I'm so rich, so damn wealthy in life to have them. I wouldn't mind dying a pauper, living in a shack under a bridge...I wouldn't trade anything in the world for my friends. The list sometimes grows shorter with circumstances, life gobbles up certain friendships, if you're lucky, life adds some as well, but the ones that remain, the ones that persevere....those are the ones that make stories, the ones that I would travel a million miles for. We all have them, we all love them....these are the kindred spirits in the world with whom you just be yourself, not a perfect self, not a professional self, but YOURself.

I am still a pretty silly goober...with plenty to learn, and plenty of mistakes in my backpocket....but one very important lesson that I am starting to learn is to be eternally grateful for that which I do have...a home, a compooooter, my beaten up sandals, my crooked smile, my fam (they're in a league of their own)....but most importantly, my beloved friends...

Life is a carnival

2009-09-07T10:48:00.000-07:00

Very short entry here, but it will be a brief introduction to one of my short stories. Life is a carnival, sit on that, stew on it....moose stew on it. Life is a festival, a carnival, a circus....filled with different types of people, action everywhere you go, and if you let it...it can be quite fun.

The heroine (not to be mixed up with heroin...just realized how close a mistake I made):
Eloise Dvorak

The premise:
Don't forget who you are

The setting:
Carnival/ Circus

The ending lesson:
You can run, but you can't hide...so you might as well face it down, laugh at it, throw bananas and do a little dance....basically, don't ever let your life story write itself....make you sure you have a hand in it, otherwise, like a blindfolded penquin, life will just keep running into glaciers.

tbc..

Ode to Poetry

2009-08-31T22:11:00.000-07:00

Strong dislike, a distaste for the overstated
A descriptive blah of this and what not
To bee or not to bee, that is the question that I've always hated
That no one answered and thus forgot
A rose is not a rose that rose from the risen sun
If the rose is red or violet or blue
I think that poems are just verbalized puns
That should remain inside he, she, me or you
I care not that I love thee, I cannot count the ways
Whether the weather be cold or hot
I cannot succumb to these ostentatious figurative plays
I just will not, cannot and do not!
Go on and push beyond the brink
I will stand oblivious of words
Brandy and Van Gogh, swim and sink
This is all just so absurd
If not for a simple English project
I would not punish myself further
I would not write about love and friendship
And heartbreak No! Not with such fervor
Goodbye ugly letters and stanzas galore
I am done with your plaguing style
I want no more of your literary horror
And please God let me be for a while

(and somehow in college, I got an A for this poem about hating poems...go figure)

Wish List

2009-08-31T00:51:00.000-07:00

I have a wish list...and it's getting longer by the hour....and I wish it will stop....ooops, one more wish to add.

1) I wish that my smile was more straight
2) I wish that I had a pet emu and a pet koala bear
3) I wish there was an outdoor skating rink open year round within walking distance from my apt
4) I wish that I knew what I was doing with my life
5) I wish I liked peas, they seem to go well with everything
6) I wish that I swam more
7) I wish that I smoked less (see wish #6)
8) I wish I could read people better
9) I wish that more of my friends lived closer
10) I wish I kept in touch with more of my high school friends...
11) I wish I finished college
12) I wish I could open up more about how I feel when it counts, I seem to have verbal diarrhea about everything that doesn't matter, and verbal constipation about everything that does.
13) I wish my left foot would finally hurry up and heal
14) I wish that my car wasn't so expensive...might have to sell it
15) Secret Wish #1
16) I wish that my Dad was still with us
17) I wish that I knew my real parents, namely for health reasons and it would be nice to know my real birthday.
18) I wish that it was winter already
19) I wish that I wasn't so ridiculous and silly
20) I wish that I had a streetlamp in my apartment
21) I wish I understood just a little bit more about life
22) I wish I could travel to Spain
23) I wish I could travel to Australia
24) I wish I could ski in Colorado
25) I wish I could ski period...
26) I wish I could be having a snowball fight RIGHT NOW!
27) I wish I could travel to Greece
28) I wish I was an airborne ranger
29) I wish I had more close friends, and less acquaintances.
30) I wish "Nubs" would finally come back from Arizona
31) Secret Wish #2
32) I wish I had four legs, that way I could play soccer by myself
33) I wish that I could invent a spaceship that could travel the space time continuem
34) I wish that I carried through with majoring in Philosophy or Astronomy. I really wish that I carried through with Astronomy
35) I wish that I could cook better
36) I wish I wasn't so forgettful
37) I wish I could turn back time, or jump forward, where I'm at right now isn't so much fun
38) I wish I had a big cheesy burrito in front of me....so hungry
39) I wish I was a better writer
40) I wish I could play the violin right now...but apt living sucks the fun out of that
41) I wish that I didn't meander to the beat of my own drummer....it gets pretty damn lonely sometimes
42) I wish I knew more foreign languages.
43) I wish I could be a cowgirl, just for a couple of days
44) I wish I was fishing right now
45) I wish I could visit Washington D.C and see the constitution
46) I wish kids didn't have to hurt and old people didn't have to cry
47) I wish this world would just live up to the golden rule that so many religions preach
46) I wish this list will stop

*Secret Wishes, well, I can't very well disclose everything? ;)....a girl likes to have some mystery about her...*wink*

Wish lists are important, sometimes you have to write out exactly what it is that you want. It may not happen, some things are simply not under your control....but if you don't know what it is you want in life....how will you even get there?

I wish I wasn't up at this hour writing this....yay insomnia.
I wish you all well

In the wells of silence

2009-08-26T09:04:00.000-07:00

The swim. The long sought after peaceful activity that reminds me of numerous mornings when I was younger. Those mornings started early, at 4:30am and quite possibly became the best part of every day. This morning, due to a long lull of swimless life, the regiment started quite a bit later, but I did it, finally, after lots of hem and hawing, I finally did it....and oh my, it was just what I needed.

Beautiful soft waves of chlorined water, peaceful rays of sun peeking through the morning clouds, and a complete well of silence under the breaking surface....and peace of mind. I found the peace of mind that I knew this activity would bring. Nobody cares when you swim, nobody thinks about who you are, or what you look like, or where you've been. They are there for the same thing you are....the swim. The physical activity that exausts your lungs, challenges whatever muscles your body possesses, and mutes the raging thoughts that consume the restless brain. Finally, the dive into the watery apocalypse...finally, the oneness that you feel with yourself....finally.

When I was younger, the mornings represented (very cliche) a brand new day, a new beginning, and my dad's champion cinnamon, sugary oatmeal goodness. There was no need to talk or hold lengthy conversation, being up at that supposed ungodly hour was an honest enough connection. It was the simplest part of the day, when the birds woke you up with their cheer, when the sun yawned, and when the air was clear...and innocent. Silence wasn't a form of insecurity, or deep feelings, or teped thoughts, no....silence was just the morning, the simple morning...

I have to do this again...

COMA - Part 2

2009-08-24T18:51:00.000-07:00

....Life is a subjective invention. You pass through the entrance, walk down the cobblestone path and arrive at the drawbridge. You stop and gaze at the wooden architecture that you stand on. You touch the complacent wood and run your fingers across the knots embedded along the rail. Appreciate the vividness of movement, smell the crisp air, do no deprive yourself of the facets of this world. You cross the bridge, peering at the vivacious stream underneath, wondering if this an afterworld, a parallel universe, or perhaps Merlin's work. Your heart swells with a feeling unexplainable, previously thought to be unattainable without the cohorts of love or loss. This heavy lightness plays with your mind, your heart exploding with each observation you obtain. You pause, relying on the strength of the bridge to sustain your weight. The colors seem to change, intensifying your passionate confusion. The violent reds, the golden yellows, and serene greens all throw their magnificence at you. You inhale twice and find the sweet air filling you with courage to carry on. You remember you are not alone. You remember that I am with you.

We walk together heart in heart, with souls intertwined and approach acreages of unsurmountable beauty. This natural estate is home to all humble creatures. You imagine tree-dwelling squirrels, rock bound lizards and other beings of the gentle earth. The air is especially calm and this puts you at ease. The docile nature comforts you and warms your awareness. I then tell you of the spirit that dwells here, a mother of nature. You scoff at the cliche but sense that there is a truth in my explanation.

Within your disbelief arises a maternal familiarity. You stop and listen. You can hear her words. The voice is warm, soothing, and filled with affection...Dear Child...Her voice seems all around you, eerily projecting itself from every element. You are frightened, but I hold your hand. Listen, I explain, you need not escape her, she is not a monstrous spirit, but speaks with love. You resist but finally place trust in my interpretation. You sit down and readily absorb her words. She is whispering now, with hesitance. She tells you that she misses you. Although you do not comprehend the significance, you listen patiently. There is softness in her tone that startles your memory. She whispers again, she hopes you can hear her. Her voice resonates with sadness. The season is changing. What was once a spring melody becomes a winter largo. The light blue sky darkens its hues. She says that she loves you so much. You find yourself embracing her sadness as though yours. This puzzles you. You ask me why she is so profound. I do not answer. You start to cry with unexplainable emotion. Almost simultaneously, the sky breaks and pours a torrential rain. You look up and feel the warm droplets hitting your face. You lick your lips and are shocked at the saltiness of the downpour. Her words come more easily now. She wonders if you can hear her.

You scream out in frustration, proclaiming your presence. She does not hear you. The rain lightens and her voice wavers. She continues her maternal prose, now narrating a story. Your heartbeat skips because you faintly recognize the tale. You cannot remember where or when you heard this story, but you mouth along with the narration, all to familiar with the storyline. The story is about a child, who travels through a fantasia of color. The entrance to this fantasia is subtle, not revealing any of the mysticism that lies beyond. The fantasia starts at the foot of two white birch trees, one taller than the other. The child walks along a cobblestone path into the fantasia.

You are incredulous, but now understand. You do not exist in this world, but are a visitor. The story is a memory, but it is too subtle for you to retain. This spirit is important to you, but you still lack comprehension. You feel a connection, but do not know why. You do however know that you are a stranger to this realm, it is not your home. You ask me more questions. I reply with no answers, but instead tell you to walk away. You have learned enough, and there is much more to see. With much regret, you slowly rise letting my gentle commands guide you....

Breath

Move

(To be continued.....)

"Stay where there are songs" - Gypsy Proverb

2009-08-24T10:39:00.000-07:00

I wish I lived in the land of gypsies, though technically, there would be no designated land for them since they're nomads. How romantic must it be though to wander with a tribe, find home and roots everywhere...to live a life of constant exploration. I think that would be the perfect way to live...a gypsy lifestyle. The Romani's were the first gypsies, a tribe of Hindu origin. They're widely disbursed in Europe however there is no telling how many there are (that's right, although I'd like to claim that I have an overwhelming knowledge of everything....no...just wikipedia'd it....wikipedia...my best mentor...sad). Anyways....yes....I crave the gypsy lifestyle. Did you know that Charlie Chaplin's grandmother was half-gypsy? I'll just log that in my little compartment of absolutely useless information that I can bring up during a 7 minute lull in group conversation. Another interesting tidbit?...Spain has the highest number of Gypsies per capita. Again...useless info, unless you're like me and dream someday of waking up in an alternate universe, just to live a couple of days in the gypsy lifestyle.

You know what I think I like the best about the possibility of being a gyspy?....I truly think that it blends the best of both worlds. You have the adventure of being a nomad, yet the comfortability of always having your friends & family close by. I love the fact that in society, they're also prone to being misunderstood, perhaps labeled safely as misfits.

I love misfits, people who are misunderstood....people who are judged, people who look or act differently. I love them because they have a quality....a quality of having to get over the hurdle of being on the outskirts of normality. I mean who defines normality anyways? I'd like to think that it is the loudest and most abrasive of humanity. Who gets to define normality, or what is acceptable...and why? After all, when did some become the experts as to what the masses should do?

People should live their lives as they see fit, as they are. True, a bit of morality and care should always go in the mix (unless you don't mind being a very lonely bastard), but if you treat people well, really, why should anybody care about your lifestyle, your choices, your dreams? Maybe I'm just too bohemiam, but there are so many other things in life that we cannot control, that happen on a daily basis, why then must we add critical judgement of others to the mix? Too utopian? Yes, of course...I judge just as much as the rest of them, but that doesn't stop me from wishing that I didn't or trying to catch myself when I do, or being ashamed when I have.

To the misfits of this world...the misunderstood, the gypsies, the nomads, the affected, the dwellers, the dreamers, the sufferers....I love you...I truly do.

Slow MPH duhhhh

2009-08-21T14:47:00.000-07:00

Simplicity is understated, as it should be. Simple people are underestimated, undervalued. But ya know what....you don't see them frowning all the time. They're not getting all worked up about a missing shoe or getting a bad manicure. Try it sometime. When you're sitting on a bench, and you close your eyes, you purge your thoughts, and you just are....simple. I wish that we could do this more often, shut off the melee of over-stimulation, the cacophony of opinions, the irksome fears and doubts....and just simplify things. When was the last time you had an opportunity to sit, close your eyes, and just listen, to the sounds of the street, to the chirps of the birds, to the voices of others near and far, to the beating of your own heart, even to the wind that sweeps across your very person.

It's a feeling that I seek, often, not often enough it seems. If we take a step back, and try to look at things just a bit differently, I wonder how much more satisfied we would in life. For example, this afternoon I was developing a nice case of road rage. The truck in front of me, the old lady driving in the next lane over, and the damn prius on my left it seemed had it out for my car. They were all driving at one speed....slow mph. In order for me to swerve around this box step dance, I had to slow down to negative mph, and Frogger my way to the fast lane...where there was a wonderfully slow couple driving in an old clunker mercedes that I swear had my age by ten years. Fine....so I tried pushing the rage out, and instead tried to concentrate on how pretty the trees were....swaying....oh wait, they weren't swaying...it was as still as ever outside....alright...NEXT< So then I tried looking at the people in the cars in the attempt to find something within their facial expressions, or at the very least, find a bumper sticker that would make me laugh ...................................................*nothing*.........................................................seriously, they were either on the phones, staring straight forward, or in the truck's case, I couldn't even see the driver since my tiny little go-cart barely cleared the wheels.

Okay, I was running out of ideas....and my road rage was creeping up my throat, just impatiently waiting to explode in a mouthful of obscenity....and to make it worse, I didn't have the excess time to just wait and be patient, I was on my lunch break dammit....I needed to get to the Jiffy Lube and treat my car to the oil change it so desperately needed....and ironically enough...I was stuck in my car....just burning through the black gold.

I looked around wildly, the rage was quickly bubbling over....I needed a release....I needed a .....ooooh, what's that?......oooooh wow.....whoa....I didn't know.....NO WAY!!!! Rock on!!!!

Lo and behold, I just found out that my ashtray, the tiny, dinky, puny, almost non-existent ashtray pops OUT!!!.......This whole time, when I was dumping tiny receipts and junk in there, I could have been emptying the entire thing...not just piece by piece....WHOOOOOPIIIIEEEEEE!!!!!

Ignoring the fact that my car now sputtered to a stop behind a cow herd of traffic, I instantly smiled and let out a slow "gaaaaaa"....like a Bernie Mac comedy routine, my eyeballs flipped upwards and my tongue started hanging out...."gaaaaaaa".....WHOOP WHOOP!!!!!

Seriously....it really is the simple things.

(I just want to give a very very loud shout out to a blogger who's posts have been the cause of soda spurting out of my nose at work on more than one occasion. Again, it happened today....where's the paper towels? Extranjera....thank you....from the bottom of my soda. )

"Float like a Butterfly..."

2009-08-20T16:41:00.000-07:00

Alright, so just a wee bit about me - so you understand where I'm coming from. I realized later on that this just turned into a ranty rant rant rant....and it was fanfrickentastic! It's been a long time since I ranted....whoopie!! It starts out nice....ooh but it gets ranty. Not for the faint-hearted....move along if you scare easily. I promise, this is not the usual style of writing that I do...I just got really bored at work and for some reason couldn't get good ole Mohammed Ali outa my head...

THE GOOD ME:
I like awesome dispositions. I laugh easily at jokes, have an unhealthy obsession with velcro walls, blow up sumo suits, and learning how to climb palm trees. I love the ocean, I love trees, I love ice rinks, (I kinda feel like a camp song right now "if it's brown flush it down?" I love camping, and I really love chasing birds. I adore positive people and fall in love at least 3 times a day with strangers that I meet or learn about just because they put me in awe. I like to stay lighthearted and whimsical, more fun that way. I take care of business and like to play....pretty simple really.

I grew up in NorCal, probably will never leave (unless I finally get the gumption to move to Hawaii - Kauai here I come) and think life is pretty grand....even the shittier parts of it.

THE UH-OH (My constant internal struggle with being an aimless fool)
But would you believe, there is a more serious side, a more "get the hell out of my way" side, an "I'll do it my way" side, a "to dream the impossible dream" side that I have been working on simmering down a bit. This side is more impulsive, more expansive, and is the primary cause of quite a few bad decisions in my life. This side is also home to my "take it or leave it" style, and my usually treacherous vanishing trick, now just resulting in drives. It's called reckless, restless, silly, wild....I call it stupid in retrospect, my mom calls it rebellious...my friends call it flaky. It's my weakness. Most of the time this side needs to be contained, needs to be sidelined, but sometimes, I feel forced to play it....it is exactly what keeps me going and every rare once in a while, it is dead on.

THE BOXER IN ME - FLOAT ON
My friends used to say that I have the fight or flight complex...but I like to think of it as a "float like a butterfly, sting like a bee" complex. I am not a cowardly lion, I do not shirk away from challenges or shy away from tough situations...I just pick my battles....very, very carefully. Alright, well honestly, sometimes I do a little dance around them, but usually that is accompanied by a thought process that is not ready to materialize into action.

I am not a dishrag, doormat, nor am I placeholder...or whatever other colorful term people use to describe somebody who can be stepped on or walked over. I may appear so to the untrained eye, but in the end, I always make my move and get going, usually to their surprise. One of the greatest lessons I have learned thus far is that you can never just depend on someone's potential to be cool, they're either cool, or they just haven't gotten there yet. Nobody's gonna live my life for me...there is NO manual, you make your own manual for life. I will not have anybody steer my ship....I am my own captain....roar! Whoa there cowgirl....NO I won't calm down...

Everybody has been through shit and back, everybody has a story, a bit of sadness, a bit of insecurity....and that's completely understandable and I truly admire and respect people who still manage to come out of it with a smile. I've had friends who have dealt with cancer, lost significant others to incurable ailments, been harmed, crazy stuff...life altering stuff, so I'm empathetic when people rely on their experiences to guide their decisions, when they revert back to their insecurities every once in a while. But you know what?....that can't always be used as an excuse, it can be a reason, but not an excuse...so don't even try with me...We are what we do, and how we act, using your previous pain as a crutch so you can treat others unfairly...you're just defeating yourself, they'll go on, but you'll still remain the same...so grow up...and do it soon...yeah, I know, I'm hardcore...but you know what?...it isn't because I don't love people, I love people, I love their stories, I love their smiles. I love being happy for them when they are happy, and I'll always have an ear to lend if they need a friend...but I ain't no coward...and I'll stand up for what I believe in...so be careful....just cuz I smile, laugh and joke doesn't mean I don't see what's really going on...and believe me...if I don't like what I see...sooner or later, I'll get goin. The worst thing someone can do is take for granted another person's optimism and goodwill.......Cheers!

(Whoa...well that was a bit of a rant now wasn't it....felt good though...we all need to rant sometime! grrrr...now I want to go boxing with those big inflatable boxing gloves....lol)

Meg's here!

2009-08-20T11:19:00.000-07:00

There are very few things that will wake me up at 5:15am in the morning and put a smile on my face...but this morning I received a text from my friend Kim. She was scheduled to go in tomorrow and have a C-Section for her new baby girl....but it looks like the tiny tot just couldn't wait to join the rest of us out here!

I am super duper excited for her....and this was one of the reasons for my permagrin this morning. This grin was a bit unnerving for the rest of my co-workers, as mornings tend not to bring out the cheer in all of us on weekdays, but I can't help it...I love good news...happy news....wonderfully blissful news....and yes, I'm a damn joyful person.

Kim is one of those friends whom I absolutely adore. She's a quirky Korean, much like myself, and grew up in the southern twang of Louisiana (oooh...red velvet cake).She's adopted, exactly like myself....and she changes her mind constantly, flits about like a butterfly from flower to flower and still manages to stay grounded enough to get shit done....must be the Gemini in her. But her most winning quality is her laugh...she doesn't have a twittery laugh, or a dry laugh...no, she has a bellowy, from the stomach, driven from the human core laugh. It's contagious, I can't help but to laugh along...and even when the skies are a bit cloudy in my neck of the woods, her laugh is like a forceful wind that pushes those duldrums away.

So congratulations Kim King, and the entire King family....I am so incredibly excited that there will be another King laugh in this world!

Got to do it....got to let a few Balloons go

2009-08-19T09:02:00.000-07:00

I was thinking this morning, in the foggy haze of a makeshift hangover (Thank you Pinot....you and I certainly were not meant for each other...but I don't mind the occasional fling), that I need to become more grounded. Right now, I kind of feel as though I'm flying. Actually, I'm not doing the flying, the balloons tied to the make believe chair that I am sitting in are. Problem is, and this is even apparant in some of my latest stories, that I may be flying just a wee bit too high. In my chair, I feel like my navigation is a bit off....like I started this journey with every intention of going to Portugal....but what?....I think I just found myself in New Zealand.

I've got to do it, I have to let a few Balloons go...just so I can navigate a wee bit better. It's always okay to dream, dream big...and think up of new ventures, but at what expense...you can't get anywhere in life if you let every single whim take hold....then your just a stretched out aimless fool..., and I'd rather just be a regular fool. A fool who instead of dreaming about becoming a short story writer who writes from an African Safari, or a Resort Worker who lives in Hawaii, or a adventurer that discovers a new species of monkeys in the alps, actually appreciates and lives in the here and now....at my desk....in a little town called Pleasanton. Not so bad really....I mean, it's still a pretty wonderful life...no? These whims I have....they're a bit mischievous.

So I must pop some balloons, regain some footing (or sitting?). I'll take my imaginary umbrella and poke around. POP POP POP....good...much better, now I can finally start to see a bit more clearly....it's not that I've stopped dreaming, it's just that I'd like to see where I will take them, not where they will take me. Too many balloons can spoil the ride. So goodbye Africa, goodbye Hawaii, goodbye monkies, and hello actuality....reality can still be plenty fun!

COMA - Part 1

2009-08-18T20:43:00.000-07:00

The world is stopped. Every component of life slows to a disturbing halt. Every sense that you once took for granted, your intangibility becomes undeniable. Life is mute, and so are you. You feel dead; the only lingering substance in your consciousness is confusion. Spiritually, you are absent. Physically, you are debilitated. To the alternate reality, you have collapsed into a coma.

Within the sphere of your subconscious, I will welcome you. I will be your life, your body, and your soul. Take a trip with me to your unseen psychosomatic awareness. It will be convoluted at times, but acceptance is inevitable. you may ask questions, I may reply, the answers are all within this voyage. Take a trip with me. let me be your guide, the master of your itinerary. Lose sight of past realities and succumb to this hidden warp of existence. You invent every element of this world. You will be the architect of this journey. Do not be scared. I am with you always.

Close your eyes, fall through your objections, down towards the depths of distilled slumber. Pause at the gate of surrealism, and regain your senses. Let your inquiring mind absorb your surroundings. Step out of the fog, enter the realm and once again find your step. Remember, this neighborhood of imagery is yours, fabricated by your memory. you have chosen two white birch trees, one slightly taller than the other. Walk past the trees and take notice of the majestic life around you, the rustling of the leaves, the whistling of the grass, the boldness of the colors, perhaps too bold. this cannot be reality you say to yourself. You then realize that reality is not so cognitive when viewed through an active imagination. Life becomes a symphony, a portrait, and a poem. Life is a subjective invention...(To be continued...when I've consumed a little less wine...and can actually typoeadsfadsfereqr0e70383274893278934*&(&$%^$)

The Angerball Game

2009-08-18T13:51:00.001-07:00

I just made up a game in my head....geared towards the whole confounded idea of "Turn that frown upside down" "Life could be worse""Live & Let Live""Well you could always be the one armed man sitting on the stump in the corner". Needless to say, I'm annoyingly full of idioms. The goal is to scare the negativity out of myself, forcefeed myself optimism, tie myself up with a lasso of sunshine and throw wet papertowels at my own noggin until I have no choice but to smile.

I just thought up "Angerball Game"

Yes...the Angerball game.

Materials needed: Apples, a bucket, water, a kickball, a tootsie roll pop and camera (preferably digital).

It's not a game, more like an exercise in manipulation of the anger feeling, or sad feeling, or "ouch" hurt feeling, or "gaaa bummer" feeling.

There are several steps in this game.

1) Identify what you are angerballing about.

In this case, I am angerballing about my current work and friend situation, and also about the fact that I keep forgetting to buy a vacumn cleaner....every night I remind myself, every morning I wake up drrrrr

2) Identify who you are angerballing at or what caused this angerball feeling

This one's easy, I'm angry at myself for not handling things as well as I could have, I'm angry at my memory for being drrrr.

3) Now use adjectives to describe how you are feeling, but you can only choose 7 - much like building a list of your very own negative 7 dwarfs:

Poopy
Crappy
Dopey
Doofusey
Moronic
Hysteric
Yosemite Sam-like (?, yeah, I...I don't know why)

5) Now gently use your palm and hit yourself on the side of your forehead, once for each of these annoying 7 dwarfs. Remember, you have to say their names at the same time.

Poopy (ow), Crappy (oww), Dopey (owww), Doofusey (owwww), Moronic (owwwww), Hysteric (owwwwww), and Yosemite Sam-like (oof!)

6) Now, go bob for apples, and you have have to get at least 7 of them, and the challenge? You must place them with their stem on top.

Blup, Blup, Blup, Gurgle, Blup, Gurgle, Splash!

7) Now turn around 14 times, 7 times to the left, 7 times to the right

oooooh....dizzy...kinda like it!

8) Now hop on one foot, while high fiving yourself 7 times

Whiff, whiff, whiff, hop, hop, whiff, whiff

9) Run up to the kickball, and kick it 7 times, once

bam, ka-POW, Zoink, slam, brop, slap, stumble

10) Now lick a tootsie roll pop - count how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop, multiply by 3, subtract 18, add 1....come up with total

11) Now take that total and you must take a picture of your silliest expressions, one for each number that you have....

12) Now send each one of those pictures to one of your closest friends with the caption "I love you because..."

13) Sigh....think about it....and realize, daaaaaamn I am lucky....at least I still have my imagination, a forehead, hands, water, a bucket, apples, can hop, give myself high fives, a kickball, a tootsie roll pop, a camera, and friends...

............must not be as bad as I thought huh? =)

"Frankly my dear..."

2009-08-18T08:34:00.000-07:00

Alright, this morning started bright and early, and not in the way that I would have preferred. I went to sleep last night with the goal of waking up early to start my swimming regiment. My mind was dedicated to the idea of getting a nice morning swim in to calm my frazzled nerves....but this morning....whoa.

I woke up to over 1000 emails from my workplace...all due to a survey mishap that I was not so luckily copied on. Did you know that I now know over 1000 people in this world that are "out of office"? I've never had a dish of cold reality served so blatantly. Not only was I scrambling to erase all these messages from my phone, which is now 2 messages away from spontaneously combusting, but I also am wondering...."Where the hell is my out of office?".

I would love to be out of office, going camping, visiting Hawaii, visiting Australia, oh my lord at this point, visiting the post office.

I am about two microseconds away from bursting....along with my phone.

I've had it...with everything...ready to throw my arms up in the air. This last month has been a tossed salad of interesting lessons learned, from friends, to work, to love, to my feet...

I'm ready to pull a Rhett Butler-

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn"

Project Plankbutt- A short story beginning

2009-08-17T18:13:00.000-07:00

I call this Project Plankbutt

(Thank you to my cousin Denise who introduced me to the phrase "Plankbutt". This is just a mockup of a longer short story to be written. Basically, I need to see how this reads, edits will happen, facts will change, names will be modified...and there will undoubtedly be multiple drafts. If ever this is finished, I'm dedicating it to Nubs, Denise & anybody out there who understands when I say that I love sitting Forrest Gump style.)

Part 1 - An introduction to my heroes.

Let me introduce you to Mr. & Mrs. Plankbutt. Don't be wary, they're a friendly couple and though they are living at a ripe age of 75+, their eyes still twinkle with humor and their stories still come alive when told. They're a special breed of people. Both persons of optimistic experiences, and both with hearts still open. At 75+ years young, sometimes that's a hard feat to accomplish...yet some magically are able to, some are able to let the tired pains of growing up and growing old wither with the seasons of time and progress towards an attitude of live and let live...of eternal enjoyment of the simple things...of appreciating that which just begs to be appreciated.

His name: Thomas Plankbutt
Her name: Eleanor Olemighty

These two met in a rather nontraditional way. She was a horse trainer for the local carnival. He was an aviation specialist for the air force. That doesn't really matter however, because they actually just met at the zoo. She was cleaning gum off her shoe, and he stopped to admire the graceful way she went about it. He would come to find out later than cleaning gum off her shoe was just about the only graceful thing she was capable of. He said hello, she said goodbye.

They wouldn't meet again for another 5 years.

This time, he barely recognized her, as she had a penchant for changing appearances with her changing moods and was entangled in a dog walking nightmare. The leash that trapped her in her current spot managed to snake its way around a bench and thus, yet again, she was in a position of utter confusion.

She looked up, he looked down, she grimaced and he smiled....

And...really, that's all you need to know about their meeting. You see, this is not a story about how they met, or how they fell in love, about their marriage, about their children, this is not THAT type of story. No, this story is about life...and the quintessential appreciation of it....and how an old couple of 75+ years, taught me in 25 seconds, that life really is quite beautiful.

PaddleBalling Sea Otter playing a game of Hearts

2009-08-17T09:27:00.000-07:00

(I am currently at work right now really trying hard to control the visual image of me dancing on my desk, kicking my paper's around and screaming out "bloody hell...please, just leave me be, I want to go fishing! ". I'm not being successful, so I'm closing my office door in the hopes that that one extra barrier will fortify me in my contained workspace. )

I feel like a paddleball. Swing & Miss, Swing & Miss, Swing & BOING! I can't decide if I like this or not, but it sure seems fun. It also perhaps explains why I'm so bad at reading people or situations, because I can't even describe how I'm feeling without a reference to an inanimate object, or two, or three...objects of the playful nature. Or maybe....I just need to have faith that people can read between all the squiggly lines...or circles.

I had a nice warm feeling of light hit me almost two months ago. I like basking in the glow of the light, makes me feel....like a sunbathing sea otter, on the ocean, just relaxed and quite chill. It makes me feel...good, and cheery, and wonderful....and I just get a little confused thinking about it because I usually can make myself feel good, and cheery and wonderful...it's odd to have something else also make me feel that way....understand? No? Neither do I...and I kind of like it that way....sometimes, it's good not to completely understand, just let it unfold in front of you and welcome any surprises...sometimes, it's good not to always have things planned out...and to go with the flow.

This warm fuzzy that popped into my life, well, it kinda makes me feel like a paddleball...I never know what it's going to do next, I never know when it'll miss me or I'll miss it, but it reminds me of playing Hearts. You don't know what's in your opponent's hand, and you don't know if if what you hold in your hand will actually help you out in the end...and you don't always need to know. You're forced to hand over 3 cards at the beginning, but you also get 3 cards...so you just don't know....but if you play your hand well, and perhaps even take some risks, you may just end up shooting for the moon.

I do hope this ray of sunshine sticks around for awhile...I rather like being a Heart's playing Paddleballing Sea Otter...who wouldn't?

The Bouncing Red Ball

2009-08-15T13:33:00.000-07:00

Some things in life bounce ridiculously to a beat of their own drummer. I'd like to think that one such thing that accomplishes this task is a bouncing red ball. It has no rhythm, it has it's own hidden purpose, it makes you smile and want to play. Everybody needs a bouncing red ball in their lives....something that randomly bounces into your life, and catches your childlike attention for an instant, or if you're especially lucky, perhaps more than just one measly instant.

This bouncy red ball may find you by rolling down the 3rd stairwell that you pass along the way to work on the 8th Friday of your 30th year. You never knew that it was going to bounce into your life, you think once or perhaps twice about picking it up....after all, you're an adult...you don't play...you work, then live, then work, then sleep, then work, then sigh....you originally had no time for such jolly things...you had no time to be jolly...you lost the jolly bill of rights in your twenties...now you're just serious...grrr serious...seriously so serious...and you don't know if yoiu can pick up the bouncing red ball....you want to , you're seriously considering it.

You decide to join your childhood imagination. You throw your maturity out with the nonconsequential idea of age, what is age, forget age, you become 8 years old again. You throw your adult shoes, your adult bag, your adult brain out the window,..and you adopt your inner stupid...your inner duh...your inner silly...yoiur inner goofy...and you love it...and it's all thanks to this ridiculous red bouncing ball....the reason now for your insistant need to jumprope, the call to jump off a tireswing into a river, the crazy urge to pound your chest and do an amazonian call of nature while skipping around one one foot...the reason for walking around in circles clucking like a chicken...just the reason...for laughter, tear jerking laughter....the reason your noggin swims now in candyland and you crave red vines, dipped in root beer floats...

...all of this because of a bouncing red ball...a jolly red bouncing ball that bounced in and out of your life...and reminded you, that seriously....don't take life so serious.

NightCap & I need the still

2009-08-13T01:59:00.000-07:00

I have insomnia right now. It was not intended. I started out this evening with the full intention of drinking some wine, writing some stories, and relaxing into a deep slumber. Instead, I have thoughts of swimming in a round pool, visiting the Washington monument, finding a sunflower field, and learning how to rhyme in iambic pantemeter flowing recklessly through my thought process.

This is not okay.

My work tomorrow will suffer because of this.

It gets like this sometimes, my mind purges all the access thought and has a party...and my body is helplessly invited and given an overdose of imagination.

I hope I can sleep..

soon...

please...

because if I'm to be expected to be even the slightest bit functional tomorrow, then thoughts of my Meyer's Briggs personality type intertwined with visiting Napa will need to be expunged. I will need to put off thinking about taking a safari trip in Africa, scrubbing my tub, reading the third book in the fifth pile two inches from my bed, learning to play the xylophone, getting a pet goose, driving route 66, falling in love with the 30th guy I meet on the third Thursday of next year, learning to sculpt, visiting my cousins in Australia and learning how to tap dance. Those thoughts need to be locked up.

Throw away the key.

I wish I had a nightcap, not of the alcoholic kind, but an actual nightcap. A green one, with yellow stars, and orange swirls. It won't be pointy, but perhaps a bit medieval. This nightcap will protect my feeble mind from the abuses of my imagination...at least long enough for me to sleep...slumber...pause...

find the still...

I need the still...the still night, the sitting still, the standing still...the still mind.

What a Wonderful World

2009-08-01T23:00:00.000-07:00

I am currently listening to Louis Armstrong swoon out "What a Wonderful World". Let me get a bit personal now...and oh I hope you don't mind. It's the good type of personal, not the intense, overwhelming, snot in nose, tears rolling down cheeks personal. It's the, let me share my dreams with you, what inspires me, what makes me feel...grand, type of personal. And hopefully, I can open the portal to my mind enough to give you a peek into what truly makes me smile.

I go on drives, long drives, short drives, medium drives...just enough to almost drive me and my credit card crazy. I have dreams, large dreams and small dreams, long term dreams and immediate dreams....and oh I think...all the time. My head simply does not shut off, and I prefer it that way. When I drive, I generally don't have a destination in mind. Usually the map in my head is much like the earth, it just goes all the way around until I find myself home again.

Ever since I was young, I loved drives. Even before I could actually reach the steering wheel, I loved when my family went on road trips. I remember that we used to have a station wagon, a cream colored station wagon, one which had a back, back seat. A back seat that folded down in what would generally be considered the trunk. You remember these, sometimes when driving, you would see little kids in the far back, looking right at you, sitting in the fold down back, back seat. I used to make a tent in the back back seat. I used to have a makeshift bookshelf that held all the books that I would read on these illustrious drives. My mother religiously packed enough food for a drive to India. We would have bags and bags of food, and drinks, and whatever else we could use for entertainment. My mom was the pack rat of drives.

So on these road trips, I would internally struggle, even when I was a little kid. I loved to read, but even more, I loved to look....and look, and look some more. I looked until I looked myself to sleep. (keep in mind, I always had a pillow and a blanket, so sleeping was never uncomfortable) I would space out, and just think, think about the world, think about traveling, think about people, think about deers, think about just about anything. I loved looking at the people that we passed on the road, the trees that gently moved to the music of the wind, the birds that accompanied us on our journey and every once in a while, I would get this aura of clarity...as though everything all of a sudden made sense. I would try to hold on to it, dearly hold onto it, because it was such a rare feeling, but as with most things in life, including people, you never hold on too tightly, otherwise, it'll slip away...and thus, that sense of clarity always slipped away. That's okay though, I don't think anybody should ever have clarity all of the time. Otherwise, life wouldn't be so adventurous.

I would get images in my head, I would imagine plays, or musicals, or movies...none of which ever existed, but were all imagined. I would think about where I was yesterday, where I would be tomorrow, what I might look like, and who I might know. I was always thrilled because I knew deep deep down, that not knowing was the best element of all. If we predetermined our lives, if we had a timetable, can you imagine how boring that might be. Of course not, because you wouldn't have any imagination, you wouldn't need it.

You see, everybody has a vision of what life actually means. We're all different and we all bring something to the table. We all make mistakes, we all look back, sometimes too much, and hopefully we all look forward. On the drives, I am always looking forward, much to the chagrin of other drivers when I'm backing up. Most of all though, I think about people and this isn't limited to people I know. I love people. I love them. They're so damn interesting...and they all have a story to tell. I wish...most of all, that I could just talk to people about their lives, about their dreams, about what and who made what and who they are.

I think that we're all connected. Blast the idea of six degrees, in the end, you never know...you could know my cousin's fourth uncle's, once removed, friend's roommate's sister's best friend. There you go....now, we're connected. We may never meet, but things that happen in my life may inadvertantly touch yours. It's the old Chinese idea that a butterfly's fluttering wings could start a tsunami half way around the world. That's why sometimes, it's good to be careful with what you do and how you treat people, because you never know just who it may effect.

I could've never imagined that I would be where I am today. When I was sixteen, I was just romantic enough to think that I would be somewhere in Australia, or Iceland, or Italy or in my wildest dreams, in Spain, running with the bulls. I thought that I would be a psychologist, and seek answers in the psychosis of others. I thought that I would be married, and have kids, and have a small cottage, and have dogs, and fish, and a pond, and horses....with a summer house in Jenner and of course an old jalopy. (I must've also thought that I would be the richest psychologist in the world) But I don't much mind where I am right now. Single, divorced, living in a one bedroom apartment, working a job that just pays the bills, and passing the time with nothing but my playful thoughts to keep me constant company. At the very least, I've done my life my way. And when I feel just a bit unnerved, I go on drives.

These drives, ironically enough, fuel me. As my car's fuel tank depletes, my internal fuel tank fills. When I am down in the dumps, ruffling through the scraps of my mistakes, it takes a drive to harness my cynicism. And these drives and these destinations that I reach, they just remind me of what a truly wonderful world we live in. Past all the wars, all the economic woes, all the hurting societies, all the struggling humanities, the one thing that this world has is potential.

I know that we all see the ugly images on TV. For some reason, the newstations, broadcasters, and pundits only deem it necessary to mostly air information about the bad news. Every once in a while a smidgen of good news sneaks in there, but it's sandwiched in the latest update on our dribbling economy, or the Sotomayer nomination proceedings, or the conflict in Afghanistan...etc. So we look to the people around us, our hobbies, jobs, pets, little treasured items, to supply us with that happiness that we crave....that undeniable sense that the world is not that ugly. We're not all famine and wars. We're not all misunderstandings or conflicts. As a humanity, we are more than that. We are. We are also love and care, sacrifice and survival, strength and will, and we are a giving people. We give hugs, we give food, we give smiles, we give sympathy, we give congratulations.

So when the media smothers us in tragedy, or others are careless and would push us down at times, because they themselves haven't been given much, or when we become our worst enemies and do it to ourselves, I think we just have to remember, that the potential is always there for things to be beautiful. You may have to look harder, you may have to climb higher, you may have to walk further or hold your head up longer , but this world and everybody in it has that very same potential. If you open up your eyes, and take a deep breath, you can see that little bit of clarity, and it's like a fog that lifts itself just enough to remind you. You will see friends smiling, loved ones caring, people sharing...and you may see, in that small precious moment, how wonderful, how absolutely wonderful our world actually is.

p.s I don't care if you call me a hopeless dreamer. I'd rather be that then a helpless cynic. Cheers!

The Penguin Chorus Line vs. The Rocking Chair Country Song

2009-07-31T15:52:00.000-07:00

Today I stood in line for 2 hours. Would you imagine how many lives are impacted in two hours, how many children are born, how many bills are signed in congress, how many cakes are baked in a bakery, how many sandwiches are made in a deli. Me? I just stood, and stood, and stood until I started grinning at the ridiculousness of today. You tend to become friends, perhaps kindred spirits with those with whom you are waiting. You hear about their day as they talk on their cell phones, you smile at their little kids, you glance with understanding as they peer at their watches. Pretty soon, your tapping foot becomes the harmony to this internal musical. The sighs, the crossing, then uncrossing of arms, shifting then unshifting of weight. When you stand back, but not too far, there's always somebody uncomfortably close behind you, it can be quite...unifying...dare I say humbling.

With two hours to spend, searching in my convoluted noggin, playing with the little emu inside...(it deserves a rest anyways), I started picturing two things. 1) A Penguin Chorus Line and 2) Swaying back and forth on a rocking chair with my friend's basset hound as my companion. No I'm not crazy, i just get images in my head of random scenes and I play with them.

My head was in a tug of war, my senses started wavering, and unbeknownst to me, I started grinning like a cheshire cat. This may have been unnerving to the others who were accompanying me in this line standing escapade, but if they only knew the parts they played in my day, they might have actually been amused.

The Penguin Chorus Line.

I started thinking about how similar all of our body stances are. Whether it be the way we wait in line, or sit in our office chairs, or sit in our cars. Yes, we're all different, but our expressions, our postures, basically the rhythm in our bodies when we're stuck doing the same thing starts to synchronize. Every once in a while somebody might move, but I picture that as their solo in a group performance.

So there I was, standing in what was quickly becoming a chorus line of anxious, impatient, or just bored human beings. I noticed that besides the shifting, all of us were either drumming our fingers or tappin' our feet. I looked at my own foot and realized that I was riverdancing within a 2x2 square inch area. I looked behind me, and the man whose suit looked like it was made out of pajama material was playing tiddlywinks with his fingers. The lady behind him with the eighties hair style was see-sawing back and forth, slow taps. Everybody had their different styles, but still were playing the same tune. Tap Tap Tap, Shuffle Shuffle, Tap Tap, "I can help the next person in line!"

We were all penguins, teetoring back and forth, and tapping. We relied on each other because at the very least, we were not alone. Other's felt our pain, laughed when something amusing happened, or nodded in understanding when one let out a sigh. When one couple took an exceedingly long time being assisted at one window (seriously, they took two hours...who DOES that?), a glance of incredulation started from the front and like a football game waveproceeded back to the end of the line. When pajama man had received a call on his cell, that required a ring tone of what I can only describe as Snoopdogbabyfacejayzrap -a -thon, all of us started tittering in amusement. When the Joan Jett of our line started grumbling out loud, the rest of us shook our heads and mentally said "simmer down kid". We all danced and tapped in this chorus line of "hurry up and wait".

Vs.

The Rocking Chair Country Song

Half way through my wait in this administrative death march, I decided that my numbed brain needed some stimulation...quickly. Neurons were popping at too quickly of ease, my synapses were dimming and the lightbulb in my brain was starting to flicker. I needed humor, I needed....well, a friend. I deftly whipped out my side companion, the savior of all things communication....my blackberry, the crackberry of all things berry stimulating. Possibilities started scanning across my imagination, like a touchscreen viewer of options running across my eyeballs. My brain stood at attention, waiting, craving the promise of a renewed thought process. Craving email, texting, Facebooking, pocket sized Texas Hold-Em, music, even the calculator....

I opted the text option, as my fingers longed to join my tapping feet in action. I didn't even have to thing about who I would text. There are but a few people in my world who can amuse with their words, with their clever repertoire, or just by joining me in being plain silly. My friend "Arizona" or "Nubs" as I affectionately call her, is one of them. As I know that she too keeps her cell phone on full alert at all times, I knew she'd respond.

Within minutes, my fingers flying, as though typing Edgar Allen Poe's Tell Tale Heart, I scurried a message to her attention. I quickly explained my reason for waiting in this dreadfully slow line. Anticipating her skillfully wiseass reply, I grinned with glee when I saw the text message waiting light. I opened up the message, "YES!", it's on now. She replied in a way that I knew the next few minutes would be filled with interesting, albeit quirky, conversation.

We soon approached this idea, that I should write a short story, or screenplay about my life.(Keep in mind, I will never do this, just too cliche, and a short story can only be so short before it amounts to nothing. Not to mention, I haven't done anything yet in my life to truly warrant a screenplay) I have to admit, in thinking about it, I would say that it would be a comedy. Not a tragic comedy, not a romantic comedy, just good old fashioned slapstick comedy.

Anyways, we started visualizing what the scene would be and soon the conversation came down to making a country music video (because country is quite perfect for the....I'm divorced at 30, I lost my dogs, I lost my money, I lost my house but I STILL GOT ME HUMOR and I STILL GOT ME ARMS! mentality) on YouTube.

Picture this, a happy gal, teetering back and forth on a rocking chair, wearing her beaten up straw hat, playing a banjo AND the harmonica at the same time, with her good faithful bassett hound by her side. Crick Crack Crick Crack, rocking all day long. Watching the sun come up and the stars bless the sky. Crick Crack Crick Crack. And of course, for all you country bumpkins out there, I will be chewing on a piece of straw!

I don't know why I have these images, and I hold onto them as though people might hold onto memories. I just know, that without them, I wouldn't smile, I wouldn't be able to imagine the endless possibilities that life can hold, and I wouldn't be able to get through each day, with just an an ounce more optimism than the last.

I just know that this is who I am, and that's okay, I'm quite happy with that.

How a bookshelf broke my heart.

2009-07-28T19:53:00.000-07:00

I just moved into a new apartment. Past the first month of incredulous organization and swift action, I've now reached the point of well deserved relaxation. The only quandry I find in this long sought after feeling, is that I'm finding that I'm not very good at relaxing. I'm trying, really hard, but now concentrating on relaxing is actually stressing me out. I am currently in a state of stress because I'm trying to settle down, trying to remain stationary. I need to post an e-bay item, "Excess energy, sold to the lowest bidder".

A friend of mine told me a long time ago that I reminded her of the Tazamanian Devil, because of my whirlwind ways. I excuse this description because it applied when I was younger at a time when being a whirlwind was just part of my charm, but now, it's my achilles heel. Now, I'm being given very kind advice, everywhere I go, to just relax....stop...cease...

I need a bookend to my energy, something that holds me in place....just long enough to figure out where it is I should go next.

And I seriously need to have discussion with my foot, and it's wild tapping ways. Have you ever been woken up by a tapping foot just to realize that it is actually YOUR obscene tapping foot that broke your reverie? How do you deal with that?

A few days ago, a slightly traumatic thing occurred when I was diligently sorting through my Mt. Everest book pile. I realized that the 2X4 bookshelf was a laughing at me. It was peering at me behind the Everest book pile with an amused look on it's shelf. I'd like to think that it was lauging with me, however my crippled instincts told me otherwise. I believe actually that it was laughing at me, or rather my attempt to try and fit my 200+ books on it's shelves. I must have done something to anger the increasingly perturbed bookshelf because it then efficiently hurled my most prized belonging off it's top shelf. I stood there in shock, in disbelief and then in pain.

My most prized possession in the world, in the universe even, is my Charlie Brown Christmas Tree Bobble Head. I have had this little figurine with a nodding complex since as long as I could remember. I usually scoff at sentimentality (though I seem to carry oodles of it), but this little headstrong doll has a very special meaning to me.

My family is the core of who I am. No matter what, through all the twists and turns in my life, through the plentiful mistakes that I carry, they have always, always been there. They have stood by me through this wonderful maze. They mean the world to me. Now this isn't to imply that we don't have our ups and downs. When I was a teenager, my Mother and I did actually fight World War 3 in our living room, my bedroom, in the backyard wherever our beligerant voices could take us. It took us about 15 years to finally broker a peace. Every once in a while, we revisit the old battlefield, but the casualties of war remind us how to proceed cautiously and with care.

Charles Shultz and his Peanuts gang has always been at the center of our family. I don't know why, I couldn't pinpoint an actual reason, for all I know, my dad saw a cartoon and became fixated. My brother had Snoopy and Charlie Brown posters, and I, I had my bobblehead. My precious (imagine Gollum from LOTR) Charlie Brown bobblehead. My dear, sweet, loyal bobblehead that accompanied me through every journey, every house, college, the wonder years and the roaring twenties. I know I know, it's inanimate. But it's a piece of my family, thus a piece of me.

Anyways, back to the tale at hand.

My resentful and malicious bookshelf hurled my poor bobblehead to the ground. In slow motion, I watched helplessly as the bobble snapped off the head and my dear sweet old friend lay helpless, now a victim of an accidental bebobbleheading. My heart was broken, shattered, dismembered in a million different pieces. Well actually, just two, the bobble and the head. This story is still fresh in my mind, having occurred just a few days prior. I still get that soft twang of sorrow when thinking about it and I can't believe it, but at this point, I have tears threatening to stream down the corner of my eyes.

I still have him, hoping that had some point I can superglue the bobble back to the head. My bookshelf is on time out right now. I have it sitting against the wall and have asked it to think about what it did. Maybe someday I'll forgive my bookshelf, but it won't be anytime soon.

Thus, this is how a bookshelf broke my heart.