Last night I kinda went out on a limb and attended an "Intuitive Q&A" evening. The best (and most concise way) of describing the event was that it was a group reading. Everyone in the group would ask one question and the "readers" would draw tarot cards, use numerology, and/or draw upon their psychic energy to answer the person's question. It was an interesting night, and I enjoyed it very much. Part of me was worried that I would find the whole thing incredibly fake, but everyone felt very genuine. I guess that this is a sign that I spend too much time with people who want to practice magick and are looking for rituals and incantations to do something which other people can do naturally. I guess this means that I believe that there are certain people who have special abilities....not something like traditional scifi superpowers....but that those people have a more open and active channel with the collective consciousness of the universe. But I digress...and trust me....I could joke about the "magick" people all day.
Of course, with any event of this nature, my first concern was whether or not the readers could really "read" me. I've had other people in my life say that they can read me easily....and I let them think that. I rarely let my inner nature be seen....and even then, it is only with people who I trust explicitly. Most of the questions in the group were specific to jobs, lives, the regular cares and worries of everyday life. My question, and really the reason why I wanted to come to this event to begin with, was about how to tap into something that I didn't realize that I had bottled up. I have had several instances lately where (for lack of any more concrete terms that can be found) I've felt that my energy and the energy that I am capable of projecting has been bottled up. It keeps popping out and I would like it to do that more but I don't want it to explode under all the pressure it is apparently packaged up with. For example, I love teaching yoga, and after every class I feel....powerful. Almost radiating with it. And not powerful in the sense that I am going to take over the world (that is on a completely different to-do list) but powerful in the sense that I am projecting all the love, hope, and sense of possibility that is out there in the universe. I want to be able to use this more...and I figured that if anyone could assist me, the people in that room could.
Their insights and advice hit to my core:
"The word that seems to come to me that you are always worried about is appropiateness" (ouch, true.)
"You come into each room, evaluate how everyone else is feeling and then match yourself to fit into them." (ouch, true)
"You need to stop worrying about the appropriateness...."(at this point I'm making faces cause I'm annoyed that I am crying) "....you need to be comfortable with projecting that true self, because it is what makes you a great teacher" (ouch, again true, dammit)
"The other word that comes to me is 'sage'. You're a sage and you're hiding it." (At this point everyone looks at me in the group with a look of 'shit they're right, why are you denying us'?)
At this point I was called on the spot to dispel my 'wisdom'. And uh.....being called on the spot like that is not easy.....plus what in the hell do you say? We all closed our eyes and breathed for a moment and I spoke when I was ready. To be honest, I don't remember what I said, and no one in that room could remember the specific words either. Which is a little funny, because I said something along the lines that we needed to be comfortable with those times when words fail, or there are no words...something like that. Anyway, half the room was crying....and I felt generally uncomfortable and that I had taken over someone else's party.
They definitely tapped into what I've been feeling for a while, but it sounds crazy and like I am bragging to admit those things to other people. I didn't really want to be called a 'sage', because my first thought was 'but who loves a sage'? Sages have followers, people that love them yes, but do they have someone as a significant other who joins them on that journey? No. Sages are fairly notorious for being single their whole lives. Maybe I need to read more and see if Nesrudin Hoja had a wife.' And I guess that I can think of another person who is a sage and is married. But they are both men. If anyone can give me an example of a prominent female sage who has a significant other, I would love to see it. Cause the reality of it feels heavy....not just the lack of a partner thing, but the responsibility of the weight my words could carry with others.
The primary advice I was given was to start noticing when I was being "appropriate" and to stop it. Yeah.....that is going to take a while to start noticing because it has been a lifetime habit and an incredibly effective way for me to move through this world. If everyone would just have their eyes closed, or allow me to have my eyes closed during these 'sage-like' moments I would feel better. It kinda feels like the anxiety that I get when I sing. I know that I can, that I have a decent voice, but I am petrified to sing in front of others...even though I really really want to.
Just after the session, the guy sitting next to me told me that when I was called on the spot he had an image of me of me in his mind. In his image he saw me standing on the edge of a diving board with my back towards the pool, and that I jumped off backwards from the board when I spoke....and there was no splash, just silence as I slid quietly into the pool.
So.....here's to no splashing....
Friday, July 20, 2012
Monday, July 02, 2012
Random things I love about GV summits
1. How people always complain about jetlag....but honestly if you are up half the night discussing citizen media in a global context you can't blame jetlag on your sleep deprivation.
2. Your panelists are tweeting while they are on the panel speaking.
3. The Internet postings of attendees complaining about everyone else making the Internet slow down.
4. No one complains that you are playing on your phone during a presentation because they are on their laptop waiting for your tweet/blog post to show up in their feed.
5. Even the most mundane of errands become an epic adventure.
2. Your panelists are tweeting while they are on the panel speaking.
3. The Internet postings of attendees complaining about everyone else making the Internet slow down.
4. No one complains that you are playing on your phone during a presentation because they are on their laptop waiting for your tweet/blog post to show up in their feed.
5. Even the most mundane of errands become an epic adventure.
Monday, June 25, 2012
A short letter to the guy that I wish I had NOT given my number to
Dear Neighbor,
I completely regret giving you my phone number. It was a moment of weakness....and in hindsight, stupidity on my part in assuming that this could turn into a friendship instead of the awkward state of epic awkwardness that it has become.
I don't care that you had a dream about me. I definitely don't care if you feel guilty about this dream. But, don't call me at the crack of dawn on a Sunday morning and "confess" this to me thinking that this would be a valid seduction technique. It isn't. And it has also had the exact opposite effect that you wanted.
Seeing that your apartment building is less than 20 feet away from my home, you can easily see when I am or am not home. You can also see that when the lights are off at my house, that I am most likely in bed. So don't call me when you know that I am out helping my brother move into my house and then get annoyed that I am not answering....especially after I TOLD YOU that I would not be available to talk. Also, don't send me text messages after midnight asking me if I am "buzy". Yes, I am. I'm fricking sleeping.
You don't love me. You hardly know me. What you see is a round white girl that can seem to take care of herself...and possibly you as well. That will not happen.
Also, you seem to believe that if I would just come over to your house and watch a movie with you....and of course, let you kiss me....that I would suddenly fall madly in love with you. Even though I enjoy them very much....life is not a Walt Disney fairy tale. A kiss does NOT make someone fall magically in love with someone else. It may make them lust after a person, but not love. Also, I am NOT a princess. If I am anything, I am a Queen. Therefore, I am NOT looking for a prince to sweep me off of my feet and carry me away into the sunset. I am looking for a King- an equal, who will rule by my side.
I know you're trying to roll with your A-game here. It's not working. You aren't going to get into my house, my pants, or my heart.
me
I completely regret giving you my phone number. It was a moment of weakness....and in hindsight, stupidity on my part in assuming that this could turn into a friendship instead of the awkward state of epic awkwardness that it has become.
I don't care that you had a dream about me. I definitely don't care if you feel guilty about this dream. But, don't call me at the crack of dawn on a Sunday morning and "confess" this to me thinking that this would be a valid seduction technique. It isn't. And it has also had the exact opposite effect that you wanted.
Seeing that your apartment building is less than 20 feet away from my home, you can easily see when I am or am not home. You can also see that when the lights are off at my house, that I am most likely in bed. So don't call me when you know that I am out helping my brother move into my house and then get annoyed that I am not answering....especially after I TOLD YOU that I would not be available to talk. Also, don't send me text messages after midnight asking me if I am "buzy". Yes, I am. I'm fricking sleeping.
You don't love me. You hardly know me. What you see is a round white girl that can seem to take care of herself...and possibly you as well. That will not happen.
Also, you seem to believe that if I would just come over to your house and watch a movie with you....and of course, let you kiss me....that I would suddenly fall madly in love with you. Even though I enjoy them very much....life is not a Walt Disney fairy tale. A kiss does NOT make someone fall magically in love with someone else. It may make them lust after a person, but not love. Also, I am NOT a princess. If I am anything, I am a Queen. Therefore, I am NOT looking for a prince to sweep me off of my feet and carry me away into the sunset. I am looking for a King- an equal, who will rule by my side.
I know you're trying to roll with your A-game here. It's not working. You aren't going to get into my house, my pants, or my heart.
me
Monday, June 18, 2012
Witness what happens when the lil bro and I make a father's day video
Limited time awesomeness for your viewing pleasure!
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Apparently the caretaker of my house is a homeless man....
or something along that nature.
I have an awesome landlord who always seems to have a workman for one thing or another....someone does the garden, another mows the lawn, someone shovels the sidewalks. Its a good system and I am quite fond of it. You get used to workmen floating around, and I am normally not concerned because I always keep my doors locked.
A few years ago we had a crotchety old man named Burt who sorta managed the property. He was only really any good at changing out the front porch light bulbs....because I am still waiting for the light in my guest room closet to be fixed...for a couple of years now. Anyway, it seemed that Burt was replaced, and about a month or so ago, I noticed a new handyman doing work around the house.
This is where I seem like a horrible person....but I never bothered to ask the guy his name. I was perfectly happy just to wave at the guy as I was leaving the house.
So the past couple of weeks this guy has been around the house- A LOT. He goes out of his way to talk to me about the raking of the tree blossoms and how he has tried to stay on top of it. He's knocked on my door at 9pm to explain to me that he put the garbage out to the street. And (today makes this twice) he has come out of absolutely nowhere and scared the hell out of me as I was getting out of my car to tell me about...something. He's repeats himself alot, and while he seems really sweet, he also doesn't seem like he is all there. I do alot smiling and nodding.
His desire to talk to me all the time is getting excessive. When he talked to me this afternoon (when I got out of my car and startled me) the lil bro heard me yell and came out onto the back porch thinking that some random homeless man was bothering me.
Oddly enough, he was kinda right. The old guy- whose name I found out was Larry- was rambling about how my landlord was over-reacting to something and that his apartment was supposed to be open on Friday and that he had no other choice etc, etc.
At this point, I thought that I should talk to my landlord. She used to employ the guy years ago and then he just disappeared. He reappeared a few weeks ago offering his services as a caretaker. He would come to her door every few days, detail whatever yardwork he had done, etc..and then tell her that the work was worth $3, $5, some figure. She would pay him when she could, but kept telling him that she really didn't need him to do the work as there were other people that she paid to do that. Yesterday, my landlord's husband saw him coming out of the downstairs apartment area (which is not open or rented currently) at about six in the morning. Then this morning, they found a grey tarp with his belongings in it stuffed behind the front bushes. I've seen this tarp circulating around the yard in odd spots for about two weeks now, but never made any connections with it. With all of the times that we have walked around my neighborhood and played the "if I was homeless I would live there" game, I never thought to play it in my own yard.
The situation is sad to say the least. He is older and constantly seems to have a dripping nose. He normally is fairly well kempt....but today was the first day that I noticed him being "rough" at all. He's never asked me for anything but a wave and a smile...never asked me for money or food. He just wants to work. He is in such contrast to the people who you find begging on corners all the time. In any case, my landlord is going to contact the homeless shelter tomorrow and see if she can arrange for him to have a place to stay. She had her suspicions about him, but until talking with my brother and I could not confirm things. I hope that she finds a place for Larry. He shouldn't have to be out in the hot sun raking all day for a few dollars. He should be able to sleep someplace safe and warm.
I have an awesome landlord who always seems to have a workman for one thing or another....someone does the garden, another mows the lawn, someone shovels the sidewalks. Its a good system and I am quite fond of it. You get used to workmen floating around, and I am normally not concerned because I always keep my doors locked.
A few years ago we had a crotchety old man named Burt who sorta managed the property. He was only really any good at changing out the front porch light bulbs....because I am still waiting for the light in my guest room closet to be fixed...for a couple of years now. Anyway, it seemed that Burt was replaced, and about a month or so ago, I noticed a new handyman doing work around the house.
This is where I seem like a horrible person....but I never bothered to ask the guy his name. I was perfectly happy just to wave at the guy as I was leaving the house.
So the past couple of weeks this guy has been around the house- A LOT. He goes out of his way to talk to me about the raking of the tree blossoms and how he has tried to stay on top of it. He's knocked on my door at 9pm to explain to me that he put the garbage out to the street. And (today makes this twice) he has come out of absolutely nowhere and scared the hell out of me as I was getting out of my car to tell me about...something. He's repeats himself alot, and while he seems really sweet, he also doesn't seem like he is all there. I do alot smiling and nodding.
His desire to talk to me all the time is getting excessive. When he talked to me this afternoon (when I got out of my car and startled me) the lil bro heard me yell and came out onto the back porch thinking that some random homeless man was bothering me.
Oddly enough, he was kinda right. The old guy- whose name I found out was Larry- was rambling about how my landlord was over-reacting to something and that his apartment was supposed to be open on Friday and that he had no other choice etc, etc.
At this point, I thought that I should talk to my landlord. She used to employ the guy years ago and then he just disappeared. He reappeared a few weeks ago offering his services as a caretaker. He would come to her door every few days, detail whatever yardwork he had done, etc..and then tell her that the work was worth $3, $5, some figure. She would pay him when she could, but kept telling him that she really didn't need him to do the work as there were other people that she paid to do that. Yesterday, my landlord's husband saw him coming out of the downstairs apartment area (which is not open or rented currently) at about six in the morning. Then this morning, they found a grey tarp with his belongings in it stuffed behind the front bushes. I've seen this tarp circulating around the yard in odd spots for about two weeks now, but never made any connections with it. With all of the times that we have walked around my neighborhood and played the "if I was homeless I would live there" game, I never thought to play it in my own yard.
The situation is sad to say the least. He is older and constantly seems to have a dripping nose. He normally is fairly well kempt....but today was the first day that I noticed him being "rough" at all. He's never asked me for anything but a wave and a smile...never asked me for money or food. He just wants to work. He is in such contrast to the people who you find begging on corners all the time. In any case, my landlord is going to contact the homeless shelter tomorrow and see if she can arrange for him to have a place to stay. She had her suspicions about him, but until talking with my brother and I could not confirm things. I hope that she finds a place for Larry. He shouldn't have to be out in the hot sun raking all day for a few dollars. He should be able to sleep someplace safe and warm.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Shock
I apparently have retained the ability to be absolutely shocked, which is an amazing thing in itself because I consider myself fairly worldly. I know that I will never truly understand everything that I encounter....but I didn't think that I could be shocked to the core. Today, an acquaintance of mine, through a discussion on Facebook, noted to me that he doesn't believe in evolution. I know that there are lots of people out there who do not believe in evolution, and I have definitely have some preconceptions about them. People who believe that every aspect of the bible is true and not allegory. These are people that I don't consort with because I know that they hold opinions antithetical to my own.....especially in areas about LGBT populations. And yes, I will admit that I believe this non-evolution-believing-stereotype are also people who are not very intelligent.
This situation is really forcing me to rethink this stereotype and also what I consider in someone who is intelligent. Because this person knows so much, and is well read.....but he doesn't question. And I'm beginning to think that a person's ability to question is more important than how many books they have read or years in school that they have spent.
One of his reasonings behind not believing in evolution was that science wasn't 100% accurate. I will concede this, but then again, it must also be recognized that faith and religion is also not 100% accurate. We should hold both things up to the same standard. I firmly believe in evolution. There is an overwhelming amount of scientific evidence showing that it exists and so I accept it. Likewise, the existence of God cannot be 100% proven, but I have also seen enough evidence to show me that a force of creation (and whatever name you wish to ascribe to it) exists, therefore I also accept it. But he can't seem to do that.
This has totally blown my mind. I also can't seem to just let it go. I don't want to debate with him further on it because I don't think that he will change his mind, or even concede that even in the slightest bit that evolution is a possibility.
This is also a dealbreaker for me I've learned. His admission to me is more damning than any other information that I could learn about him. I also know that I could never be with someone (not that I have EVER thought of this guy in this way---but in general terms) who did not believe in evolution. I might have to start asking this question on dates.
In conclusion....you can read everything ever written, you can recite or regurgitate every fact that you have come across, you could have advance degrees filling up your wall.....but if you can't question what you believe, what you read, and/or what other people tell you is the truth.....I'm gonna think you are an idiot.
This situation is really forcing me to rethink this stereotype and also what I consider in someone who is intelligent. Because this person knows so much, and is well read.....but he doesn't question. And I'm beginning to think that a person's ability to question is more important than how many books they have read or years in school that they have spent.
One of his reasonings behind not believing in evolution was that science wasn't 100% accurate. I will concede this, but then again, it must also be recognized that faith and religion is also not 100% accurate. We should hold both things up to the same standard. I firmly believe in evolution. There is an overwhelming amount of scientific evidence showing that it exists and so I accept it. Likewise, the existence of God cannot be 100% proven, but I have also seen enough evidence to show me that a force of creation (and whatever name you wish to ascribe to it) exists, therefore I also accept it. But he can't seem to do that.
This has totally blown my mind. I also can't seem to just let it go. I don't want to debate with him further on it because I don't think that he will change his mind, or even concede that even in the slightest bit that evolution is a possibility.
This is also a dealbreaker for me I've learned. His admission to me is more damning than any other information that I could learn about him. I also know that I could never be with someone (not that I have EVER thought of this guy in this way---but in general terms) who did not believe in evolution. I might have to start asking this question on dates.
In conclusion....you can read everything ever written, you can recite or regurgitate every fact that you have come across, you could have advance degrees filling up your wall.....but if you can't question what you believe, what you read, and/or what other people tell you is the truth.....I'm gonna think you are an idiot.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Announcing 2012's Hare-brained Scheme
How many years do you have to do something before it becomes a tradition? Well, this will make it three years in a row of having a hare-brained scheme. Schemes are different than yearly resolutions...mainly because they are measurable, public, and life altering.
The first year of hare-brained schemes was in 2010, when I decided to train for a 5k and meet a lifetime fitness goal of running a mile. Bought some expensive shoes, did a couple 5ks and came in last at pretty much all of them....but I finished and that was the important part. It drastically changed my fitness level and outlook of what my body is truly capable of....and reinforced my general sense of awesomeness.
Hare-brained scheme 2011 was to become a yoga instructor. I graduate from the program next month. I also start teaching officially next month (Curvy Yoga!)....and I'll be starting a website devoted strictly to yoga and body awareness in order to let all the beautiful round people of the Salt Lake area have an opportunity to savasana with me. More on that will be announced here on this blog....when I finally have everything in a format in which I want others to see it.
So now.... for hare-brained scheme 2012! I am now volunteering as a victim advocate for Unified Police Department (UPD). At this point, not much has happened except filling out an application and two completely uneventful nights of being on-call. Why this? Mainly because while at UCASA I have been training others on how to be an advocate for themselves and others....I need the experience myself as well. I kinda equate it to learning theory in school and then finally having a job where you can apply all that theory you have learned to the real world. Mainly, if there is a crisis call on nights and weekends where an officer needs an advocate to assist with victims of crime and trauma, I could be called out. I still have alot to learn...police procedures, dispatch protocol, and a little more on working specifically with domestic violence....and I'll be shadowing other advocates for a while before I will be ready to head to a scene on my own. Rather than volunteering for hospital response at the local rape crisis program, I would be responding to victims of a variety of violence not just sexual. And I will have the added ability of learning after the initial contact about what happened to the victim if I want. I don't think that I could emotionally handle working with a victim on the worst day of their life during the worst medical exam that they will ever get and then having no contact with them. Working with UPD gives me more of an option for followup, which I think will help me better handle any vicarious trauma I might experience.
That's that... the scheme has been announced!
Now go back to your regular business.
The first year of hare-brained schemes was in 2010, when I decided to train for a 5k and meet a lifetime fitness goal of running a mile. Bought some expensive shoes, did a couple 5ks and came in last at pretty much all of them....but I finished and that was the important part. It drastically changed my fitness level and outlook of what my body is truly capable of....and reinforced my general sense of awesomeness.
Hare-brained scheme 2011 was to become a yoga instructor. I graduate from the program next month. I also start teaching officially next month (Curvy Yoga!)....and I'll be starting a website devoted strictly to yoga and body awareness in order to let all the beautiful round people of the Salt Lake area have an opportunity to savasana with me. More on that will be announced here on this blog....when I finally have everything in a format in which I want others to see it.
So now.... for hare-brained scheme 2012! I am now volunteering as a victim advocate for Unified Police Department (UPD). At this point, not much has happened except filling out an application and two completely uneventful nights of being on-call. Why this? Mainly because while at UCASA I have been training others on how to be an advocate for themselves and others....I need the experience myself as well. I kinda equate it to learning theory in school and then finally having a job where you can apply all that theory you have learned to the real world. Mainly, if there is a crisis call on nights and weekends where an officer needs an advocate to assist with victims of crime and trauma, I could be called out. I still have alot to learn...police procedures, dispatch protocol, and a little more on working specifically with domestic violence....and I'll be shadowing other advocates for a while before I will be ready to head to a scene on my own. Rather than volunteering for hospital response at the local rape crisis program, I would be responding to victims of a variety of violence not just sexual. And I will have the added ability of learning after the initial contact about what happened to the victim if I want. I don't think that I could emotionally handle working with a victim on the worst day of their life during the worst medical exam that they will ever get and then having no contact with them. Working with UPD gives me more of an option for followup, which I think will help me better handle any vicarious trauma I might experience.
That's that... the scheme has been announced!
Now go back to your regular business.
Saturday, May 05, 2012
A poem, of sorts.....as of yet untitled
I miss writing
almost as much as I miss wanting to be a writer
or grand poetess
of one of those incredible literary types that can quote long and obscure passages from the extended works of this author or that.
I tried that once....to be that type.
I quoted an entire Shakespeare sonnet to a friend at lunch
one of those sonnets written to the dark lady
that at one time when I
felt-
impacted me.
a sonnet that proved that I read more than just the "best of" pieces that all the ordinary people read.
I will never forget the look on my lunch companion's face
awe
reverence
arousal
It made me feel smart
powerful
But lets be honest.....even if I could quote all the now obscure philosophers and poets of the world...
is there still an audience?
I talk about this person I want to be
cultured
educated
I may own the books that house the thoughts of those obscure intellectuals
But I don't have time to read them
Instead I carry the books around me in the house
finding comfort being surrounded by these stacks of wisdom
This actually makes my bookshelf the cultured, intellectual one
and me something more akin to an illiterate dreamer that lives in a library
In any case,
I miss this self that I wanted to be,
the writer
who now spends more time criticizing and editing the grammar mistakes of others on Facebook
then taking up pen to paper and making grammar mistakes of my own.
almost as much as I miss wanting to be a writer
or grand poetess
of one of those incredible literary types that can quote long and obscure passages from the extended works of this author or that.
I tried that once....to be that type.
I quoted an entire Shakespeare sonnet to a friend at lunch
one of those sonnets written to the dark lady
that at one time when I
felt-
impacted me.
a sonnet that proved that I read more than just the "best of" pieces that all the ordinary people read.
I will never forget the look on my lunch companion's face
awe
reverence
arousal
It made me feel smart
powerful
But lets be honest.....even if I could quote all the now obscure philosophers and poets of the world...
is there still an audience?
I talk about this person I want to be
cultured
educated
I may own the books that house the thoughts of those obscure intellectuals
But I don't have time to read them
Instead I carry the books around me in the house
finding comfort being surrounded by these stacks of wisdom
This actually makes my bookshelf the cultured, intellectual one
and me something more akin to an illiterate dreamer that lives in a library
In any case,
I miss this self that I wanted to be,
the writer
who now spends more time criticizing and editing the grammar mistakes of others on Facebook
then taking up pen to paper and making grammar mistakes of my own.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Apparently, shaking my fist in anger was a good thing
Who knew?
Today has been one of those days where things that could have gone wrong, have gone very well instead.
Installation guy came late.....which was ok because I had forgotten he was coming at all until he called which gave me a chance to get dressed. He gave me a $25 gift card for being late. Then he ended up taking twice as long as anticipated doing the work and gave me another $25 gift card. Which I am going to donate to our awards ceremony at my office....not out of altruistic reasons, but because it gives me a HUGE amount of breathing room. Also, his lateness meant that I got to work some extra hours on job 3 while I was waiting, and now I have made up the 1.5 hours I was bitching about yesterday.
Had Yoga Teacher Training last night and found out that everyone has been dealing with strange emotional craziness.....so I can chalk some things up to mass hysteria. Thank you universe.
Also had a meeting on some grant stuff at work which was very enlightening and new changes that we need to make at work are not as scary as they sounded earlier in the week. Plus, a grant payment check arrived today and anyday where I can deposit money for the office means less stressing about the books later.
September doesn't feel so far away today, which means that the HBM withdrawal is subsiding. And the feelings of general twitterpation have returned.
So yeah.....apparently shaking my fist, a grumpy face, and a foot stamp was enough to set the world straight....who knew?
Today has been one of those days where things that could have gone wrong, have gone very well instead.
Installation guy came late.....which was ok because I had forgotten he was coming at all until he called which gave me a chance to get dressed. He gave me a $25 gift card for being late. Then he ended up taking twice as long as anticipated doing the work and gave me another $25 gift card. Which I am going to donate to our awards ceremony at my office....not out of altruistic reasons, but because it gives me a HUGE amount of breathing room. Also, his lateness meant that I got to work some extra hours on job 3 while I was waiting, and now I have made up the 1.5 hours I was bitching about yesterday.
Had Yoga Teacher Training last night and found out that everyone has been dealing with strange emotional craziness.....so I can chalk some things up to mass hysteria. Thank you universe.
Also had a meeting on some grant stuff at work which was very enlightening and new changes that we need to make at work are not as scary as they sounded earlier in the week. Plus, a grant payment check arrived today and anyday where I can deposit money for the office means less stressing about the books later.
September doesn't feel so far away today, which means that the HBM withdrawal is subsiding. And the feelings of general twitterpation have returned.
So yeah.....apparently shaking my fist, a grumpy face, and a foot stamp was enough to set the world straight....who knew?
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Time, I shake my fist in your general direction....
I also shake my fist in the general direction of any physicist or astrophysicist alive or dead who has worked on time in any academic capacity.....as well as whoever wrote the ridiculously long and horrifically vague definition of time in my Webster's New World Dictionary.
Cause, I gotta say....the fact that time can be abstract and concrete at the same "period or interval" is damned annoying. Last week felt like a month ago, this week has already left, and today definitely does not feel like a Thursday.....and of course, we all know that Thursdays are my arch-nemesis anyway, so this only deepened the problems and issues that I have relating to time or "a period characterized by a prevailing condition".
As, of course, time can be defined as "a period or occasion with reference to one's personal reaction to it", I am not having what can be termed as a good one. I can't say that it is one thing or a bunch of little things compounding, or just that I am really in need of some sort of lifestyle change....or that something has got to change. Because as I am writing this I am realizing that even my perception of all the craziness going on inside my head right now is just as abstract and concrete as time or "a period of history, characterized by a given social structure, set of customs, etc."
Libby told me the other day that I need to decide what I need to start giving up. I've managed to narrow down at least one option, but ultimately it won't make a big enough impact in the long term. I would love to work less, but then I would need to earn more....which oddly enough means that you have to work really really hard for a while to get that payoff. A couple of weeks ago I had the possibility of a raise and new job one hour and then the next had to be satisfied with applying and interviewing for the same job. I interview next Monday for it, but there has been several moments where I just wanted to pull out my resume and say to hell with it all. Then of course, there is the just general craziness of April at my office and I'm in the middle of planning two events which I will somehow pull off. I have volunteer stuff that I want to do, study groups that I want to attend, and stacks of books that I carry around the house with me because in some deluded way I am hoping that I can absorb their contents by osmosis. In any event, once I am done working on the average day, the last thing that my brain can process is one more written word.
Also to add to this list, because pretending that it isn't there would be an untruth, there is this thing that I have going on with a guy. I'm still trying to think of a good nickname for him here, and I've been playing around with some acronyms that have something to do with the epic-ness of his beard. For the moment, we will use HBM. Anyway, time (or a period of existence) with HBM has been odd. It took us forever to realize that one liked the other, then we had a bunch of awkward but refreshingly honest conversations.... in any case, he's now out of town on a job for a few months, so whatever we had going on has been put on hold until he gets back. He's been gone for 9 days now...and I am still listening to sappy songs that remind me of him and (alas!) tearing up over it. It's fricking crazy.....I'm total silly stupid girl for something that hasn't progressed past a quick peck on the lips. He won't be back until September, and there is no way in hell that I can survive being how I am now for that long....I would be a babbling nervous wreck and in no way desirable to anyone or anything.....or am I already at that point and in so acknowledging that, makes any of this that much more futile?
In order to get my head straight I did write down a list of things that will be happening in the next coming months that I should be focusing on. Which has helped some.....until I look at my to-do list and realize that I haven't sent that email, or that the billing hasn't been completed on that grant, and dear god, I slept in this morning instead of getting up to work and now I am down another 1.5 hours on Job 3. Ugh.
So yeah, time, I shake my fist in your general direction....plus I am going to add a grumpy face AND a foot stamp....cause that is just how mad I am at you right now.
What I really want to do is to go outside and sit in the sun and do nothing.....and think about nothing.....and worry about nothing..... and do that more a really long "period of duration set or thought of as set".
Cause, I gotta say....the fact that time can be abstract and concrete at the same "period or interval" is damned annoying. Last week felt like a month ago, this week has already left, and today definitely does not feel like a Thursday.....and of course, we all know that Thursdays are my arch-nemesis anyway, so this only deepened the problems and issues that I have relating to time or "a period characterized by a prevailing condition".
As, of course, time can be defined as "a period or occasion with reference to one's personal reaction to it", I am not having what can be termed as a good one. I can't say that it is one thing or a bunch of little things compounding, or just that I am really in need of some sort of lifestyle change....or that something has got to change. Because as I am writing this I am realizing that even my perception of all the craziness going on inside my head right now is just as abstract and concrete as time or "a period of history, characterized by a given social structure, set of customs, etc."
Libby told me the other day that I need to decide what I need to start giving up. I've managed to narrow down at least one option, but ultimately it won't make a big enough impact in the long term. I would love to work less, but then I would need to earn more....which oddly enough means that you have to work really really hard for a while to get that payoff. A couple of weeks ago I had the possibility of a raise and new job one hour and then the next had to be satisfied with applying and interviewing for the same job. I interview next Monday for it, but there has been several moments where I just wanted to pull out my resume and say to hell with it all. Then of course, there is the just general craziness of April at my office and I'm in the middle of planning two events which I will somehow pull off. I have volunteer stuff that I want to do, study groups that I want to attend, and stacks of books that I carry around the house with me because in some deluded way I am hoping that I can absorb their contents by osmosis. In any event, once I am done working on the average day, the last thing that my brain can process is one more written word.
Also to add to this list, because pretending that it isn't there would be an untruth, there is this thing that I have going on with a guy. I'm still trying to think of a good nickname for him here, and I've been playing around with some acronyms that have something to do with the epic-ness of his beard. For the moment, we will use HBM. Anyway, time (or a period of existence) with HBM has been odd. It took us forever to realize that one liked the other, then we had a bunch of awkward but refreshingly honest conversations.... in any case, he's now out of town on a job for a few months, so whatever we had going on has been put on hold until he gets back. He's been gone for 9 days now...and I am still listening to sappy songs that remind me of him and (alas!) tearing up over it. It's fricking crazy.....I'm total silly stupid girl for something that hasn't progressed past a quick peck on the lips. He won't be back until September, and there is no way in hell that I can survive being how I am now for that long....I would be a babbling nervous wreck and in no way desirable to anyone or anything.....or am I already at that point and in so acknowledging that, makes any of this that much more futile?
In order to get my head straight I did write down a list of things that will be happening in the next coming months that I should be focusing on. Which has helped some.....until I look at my to-do list and realize that I haven't sent that email, or that the billing hasn't been completed on that grant, and dear god, I slept in this morning instead of getting up to work and now I am down another 1.5 hours on Job 3. Ugh.
So yeah, time, I shake my fist in your general direction....plus I am going to add a grumpy face AND a foot stamp....cause that is just how mad I am at you right now.
What I really want to do is to go outside and sit in the sun and do nothing.....and think about nothing.....and worry about nothing..... and do that more a really long "period of duration set or thought of as set".
Thursday, March 29, 2012
I Want the Hour-Glass Back
One of the obnoxious things about blogging for as long as I have is that things in which you couldn't wait to blog/rant/obsess about online are no longer ok to write about. In the back of my mind I'm always thinking "my Dad might read this" or "what if so-and-so figures out that (insert nickname here) is them" or "but I automatically have it set that my posts show up on Twitter and then therefore on Facebook, everyone will see this". Oh! The heavy weight of adulthood. And there is no way that I am going to start some other password protected blog in which I put all the personal stuff.....cause that is just silly. Silly! I tell you! So, for the moment I will skip telling you how badly I am at trying to date a particular person....and how much of a goober I am over the entire situation.
But I guess that I can tell you that I am desperately trying to figure out how to do Boat pose. Here's a cute little stick figure of it:
It is supposed to activate the lowest layer of my abdominal muscles....which sadly have not been able to work the same as they used to before my gallbladder surgery. I went from having a nice little hour glass/pear shape thing happening to being very apple-like. I have no problem being big, but at least let me keep the fruit-like shape I want! Whenever I try this pose I invariably fall backwards or somehow pull my hip flexor. Last weekend in yoga teacher training we were working on this pose and I was trying to figure out different modifications for it. I discovered that if I used a strap it was very helpful....but it also resulted in me saying something that could only be overheard in a yoga workshop and be benign, and be dirty everywhere else:
"Wow! I normally have a problem keeping my legs closed, but strapping my knees together really helps!"
Once I get this pose to work I'll post a photo of it on this here blog. In the meantime, I leave you with a photo of a statuette that I found and now want badly...and if anyone wants to buy me an expensive gift....
Isn't she cute! It's so me!
I should be done with my yoga teacher training program in June, but I need to start teaching classes towards the end of April-May-ish. When I am finished I'll also be certified in Curvy Yoga....which ranks pretty high on my epic-awesomeness scale.
But I guess that I can tell you that I am desperately trying to figure out how to do Boat pose. Here's a cute little stick figure of it:
It is supposed to activate the lowest layer of my abdominal muscles....which sadly have not been able to work the same as they used to before my gallbladder surgery. I went from having a nice little hour glass/pear shape thing happening to being very apple-like. I have no problem being big, but at least let me keep the fruit-like shape I want! Whenever I try this pose I invariably fall backwards or somehow pull my hip flexor. Last weekend in yoga teacher training we were working on this pose and I was trying to figure out different modifications for it. I discovered that if I used a strap it was very helpful....but it also resulted in me saying something that could only be overheard in a yoga workshop and be benign, and be dirty everywhere else:
"Wow! I normally have a problem keeping my legs closed, but strapping my knees together really helps!"
Once I get this pose to work I'll post a photo of it on this here blog. In the meantime, I leave you with a photo of a statuette that I found and now want badly...and if anyone wants to buy me an expensive gift....
Isn't she cute! It's so me!
I should be done with my yoga teacher training program in June, but I need to start teaching classes towards the end of April-May-ish. When I am finished I'll also be certified in Curvy Yoga....which ranks pretty high on my epic-awesomeness scale.
Monday, March 05, 2012
On Loss...
I learned this weekend that a friend from high school has recently died. How I learned of this was unusual. Apparently if you do a google search of this individual's name and the word Utah, a blog post that I wrote in 2004 pops up. Someone searching for his obituary found my post and they left a series of comments on it.
So for a little bit of post background...Yeah, it doesn't show me in the most positive of lights. I'll be honest about that. I was upset at how he had treated me a few months before, had heard a comment about him on a local radio program, and I made fun of what I had heard of his life and called him a "super senior"....which was not a good thing to be called in the culture of my high school. In 2007 he found the blog post and he commented back calling me a "bitter party of one"....which was really hurtful to me at the time. There was another post done about the topic in 2007 in which we kinda came to an understanding. Since then I haven't heard from or of him. I just assumed that he was living life as everyone else does.
The anonymous commenter basically told me that I was a horrible person for having this post up. I've tried to dialogue with them and even compromised....but to little avail. According to them I should be ashamed of myself and that I should remove my entire blog (not the post but the whole blog) in order to spare the two innocent children that he has left behind.
First off, my compromise was to reduce his name to initials on my blog. Even if I deleted the posts it would still take a while for it to register with the search engine crawlers anyway. And as it is, the post keeps getting lower and lower down on the search list with each hour that goes by. I left up the posts and the comments because they are part of my historical record. I know that it is odd to consider a blog a historical record but it is. Yeah, there are alot of posts in there where I am petty and mean and really really angry. This blog shows me as a flawed person, it shows me as human....but it also shows my growth as a person. I would much rather live on in posterity as a human being, then appear to be some strange super human who appears to be perfect. This is what I would want for myself...and for anyone that I once called a dear friend.
According to this commenter, this makes me an incredibly selfish person who doesn't care about two innocent orphans. In trying to deal with the loss of a old friend, I am also trying to reconcile the grief of this person who commented on my blog. Grief makes us do strange things....like try to make a complete stranger feel guilty about two children that they have never met. I don't think that their anger is really directed at me, but as I happen to be there I am the one that they are lashing out against.
I might feel better about this if I knew the manner of his death. Old high school friends are talking about the fact that he died, and even about how his wife died two years ago from cancer, but no one is talking about how HE died. I think that in a culture (such as the one unique to Utah) that lends itself to gossip and being in everyone's business, that the lack of gossip is very telling. Silence is much much worse than gossip here. The language people have used in reacting to this has been telling....and definitely the words used by the anonymous blog commenter have been telling, especially the use of the word selfish and the concern about the two children left behind.
So what does this all really mean? It means that someone who I used to care very deeply about has passed. I don't want to enshrine his memory, to make him to be some uber-perfect being... I think that the greatness of a man can be weighed by his successes and failures in life, by his ability to love and be loved, to have loss in their lives, to be humble, to be angry, by their personality quirks.... He was a husband, a father, a teacher....he loved and laughed with a gaffaw. He was brilliant on the stage and behind the scenes. He was a man who deserved to be talked about alive and in death. I will remember him as the boy that I wore a matching neck brace with after being involved in a car accident on the night of the Dogpatch school dance. I will remember him as the boy that I used to have drama club hijinks with. I will remember him as the man who wouldn't take no for an answer and did what he loved for a living....not many people find the courage to do that. I will even remember the bad things that he did, the things that annoyed me, or broke my teenage heart because I know that he did them not to hurt anyone (or even with the knowledge that it hurt someone) but that he was honoring who he was. Something that will always ensure my respect of him. But most of all.....
I will remember him: his true, authentic, wonderfully human self.
So for a little bit of post background...Yeah, it doesn't show me in the most positive of lights. I'll be honest about that. I was upset at how he had treated me a few months before, had heard a comment about him on a local radio program, and I made fun of what I had heard of his life and called him a "super senior"....which was not a good thing to be called in the culture of my high school. In 2007 he found the blog post and he commented back calling me a "bitter party of one"....which was really hurtful to me at the time. There was another post done about the topic in 2007 in which we kinda came to an understanding. Since then I haven't heard from or of him. I just assumed that he was living life as everyone else does.
The anonymous commenter basically told me that I was a horrible person for having this post up. I've tried to dialogue with them and even compromised....but to little avail. According to them I should be ashamed of myself and that I should remove my entire blog (not the post but the whole blog) in order to spare the two innocent children that he has left behind.
First off, my compromise was to reduce his name to initials on my blog. Even if I deleted the posts it would still take a while for it to register with the search engine crawlers anyway. And as it is, the post keeps getting lower and lower down on the search list with each hour that goes by. I left up the posts and the comments because they are part of my historical record. I know that it is odd to consider a blog a historical record but it is. Yeah, there are alot of posts in there where I am petty and mean and really really angry. This blog shows me as a flawed person, it shows me as human....but it also shows my growth as a person. I would much rather live on in posterity as a human being, then appear to be some strange super human who appears to be perfect. This is what I would want for myself...and for anyone that I once called a dear friend.
According to this commenter, this makes me an incredibly selfish person who doesn't care about two innocent orphans. In trying to deal with the loss of a old friend, I am also trying to reconcile the grief of this person who commented on my blog. Grief makes us do strange things....like try to make a complete stranger feel guilty about two children that they have never met. I don't think that their anger is really directed at me, but as I happen to be there I am the one that they are lashing out against.
I might feel better about this if I knew the manner of his death. Old high school friends are talking about the fact that he died, and even about how his wife died two years ago from cancer, but no one is talking about how HE died. I think that in a culture (such as the one unique to Utah) that lends itself to gossip and being in everyone's business, that the lack of gossip is very telling. Silence is much much worse than gossip here. The language people have used in reacting to this has been telling....and definitely the words used by the anonymous blog commenter have been telling, especially the use of the word selfish and the concern about the two children left behind.
So what does this all really mean? It means that someone who I used to care very deeply about has passed. I don't want to enshrine his memory, to make him to be some uber-perfect being... I think that the greatness of a man can be weighed by his successes and failures in life, by his ability to love and be loved, to have loss in their lives, to be humble, to be angry, by their personality quirks.... He was a husband, a father, a teacher....he loved and laughed with a gaffaw. He was brilliant on the stage and behind the scenes. He was a man who deserved to be talked about alive and in death. I will remember him as the boy that I wore a matching neck brace with after being involved in a car accident on the night of the Dogpatch school dance. I will remember him as the boy that I used to have drama club hijinks with. I will remember him as the man who wouldn't take no for an answer and did what he loved for a living....not many people find the courage to do that. I will even remember the bad things that he did, the things that annoyed me, or broke my teenage heart because I know that he did them not to hurt anyone (or even with the knowledge that it hurt someone) but that he was honoring who he was. Something that will always ensure my respect of him. But most of all.....
I will remember him: his true, authentic, wonderfully human self.
Thursday, February 09, 2012
Farewell Sturdy Army Bag of Awesomeness
Yes, I write today in mourning for my beloved army bag purse. After 6 years, 4 continents, and countless "how much stuff can that bag hold?" moments....my purse is dead. I once destroyed a hundred-dollar leather bag in a month.....this five-dollar army surplus bag took 6 glorious years to die. I am quite sad about this.
Instead of shopping for another bag....a cringe-worthy activity in itself....I am reusing a bag that I apparently used last in 2003. How do I know the year? Because I am notorious for changing bags and never fully cleaning it out when I change to a new one. The end result is that there are little time capsules inside these bags which I shove into a storage bin. This one had an old paystub in it....and a beautiful gem of epicness.
My first dinner party in my first apartment was a grand affair. It was a fancy dress party in which we all sat on my floor (no chairs really) and played Clue. Best. Party. Ever. And it was co-hosted by the loverly Libby. We gave out handwritten invitations and everyone was given a royal title. So the beautiful gem of epicness? The invitation draft and the guest list were in the bag! So I will share the guest list and the invite here:
I contend that I'm still hot shit.
Oh yeah
Baby
Instead of shopping for another bag....a cringe-worthy activity in itself....I am reusing a bag that I apparently used last in 2003. How do I know the year? Because I am notorious for changing bags and never fully cleaning it out when I change to a new one. The end result is that there are little time capsules inside these bags which I shove into a storage bin. This one had an old paystub in it....and a beautiful gem of epicness.
My first dinner party in my first apartment was a grand affair. It was a fancy dress party in which we all sat on my floor (no chairs really) and played Clue. Best. Party. Ever. And it was co-hosted by the loverly Libby. We gave out handwritten invitations and everyone was given a royal title. So the beautiful gem of epicness? The invitation draft and the guest list were in the bag! So I will share the guest list and the invite here:
The List:
Lady Tara of the Earldom of Dehart
Czarina Ann and her Consort Erik
Emperor Paulus Caesar and Laura Queen of the Nile
Lord Casey and Lady Rebekiah of the House of Phelps
Infanta Rebecca of Spain
Ammon Khan- Most Glorious Conqueror of Brazil
Baron Drew and Baroness Emily
Sir Nick
Duchness Kathryn of Murdock and her companion Duke WhatshisnameIforget
Sultana Deborah and her Concubine Libby
Principessa Lacy
The Invite-
You are cordially invited to an exclusive evening of laughter, tears, inexcusable inebriation, pomposity, pretentiousness, delectable virginal sustenance that will pleasure the most devious of connoisseurs; an evening of unsullied mirth, non-nonsensical gaiety, deplorable revelry, jovial girth, phallic stunts; an evening of stimulating oral tete-a-tetes; an evening with us: Sultana Deborah and her Concubine Libby on Friday November the Twenty-First at Eight in the evening.
Formal dress is required; RSVP requested.
I contend that I'm still hot shit.
Oh yeah
Baby
Monday, February 06, 2012
The Update on the Mr.3 Situation
If you are a Facebook friend or read my Twitter feed you will, no doubt, have noticed that my ex.husband aka Mr. 3 aka the-man-of-a-thousand-aliases has been arrested.
As there is an open investigation pending I can not give out many details. I can tell you that he is currently incarcerated under multiple fraud charges in Virginia. And that after Virginia is done with him Maryland will take him from there. How he was arrested will also have to be something that I can not disclose at this time for the safety and privacy of the multiple victims involved.
The real meaty part of this post, however, is how I reacted to this news. Its funny how often people ask "well what are you going to do if you ever see him again?" There really isn't an answer because you are going to react however you react in the moment, it is not predictable at all. At first I was elated and then it sunk in.....I felt decidedly unsafe. I had some hysterics. And if I wasn't employed in the place that I am now, and had the tools that I do now to handle trauma, the end results of this would be very different indeed. Luckily, I work with a bunch of trained crisis counselors....and my family and friends were able to give me the space that I needed to process and work through my feelings on this. It is very easy to get sucked into this whole...thing...that has happened. And now I can tell you that I am on the other side of it. So that when I opened my mail last Friday to find a jail letter from Mr.3, I wasn't emotional about it at all. There were 3 letters: one to me, to my lil bro, and to my Mom. The letters are apologetic in a general sense, with claims that he has reconnected to his faith, and asking for forgiveness. Even with all the references he made to my blog in these letters, he failed to remember that I had offered him forgiveness ages ago. My Dad's response to these letters was very short and carefully chosen in the way that only my Dad can be: "two words: bull shit".
So where does this leave things? Pretty much the same as they were before except that now I for sure know where he is. Last time he was in jail, not all of his activities were known, and now we are more organized. And also.....I should really get back to writing this book. It looks like there really might be an ending now.
As there is an open investigation pending I can not give out many details. I can tell you that he is currently incarcerated under multiple fraud charges in Virginia. And that after Virginia is done with him Maryland will take him from there. How he was arrested will also have to be something that I can not disclose at this time for the safety and privacy of the multiple victims involved.
The real meaty part of this post, however, is how I reacted to this news. Its funny how often people ask "well what are you going to do if you ever see him again?" There really isn't an answer because you are going to react however you react in the moment, it is not predictable at all. At first I was elated and then it sunk in.....I felt decidedly unsafe. I had some hysterics. And if I wasn't employed in the place that I am now, and had the tools that I do now to handle trauma, the end results of this would be very different indeed. Luckily, I work with a bunch of trained crisis counselors....and my family and friends were able to give me the space that I needed to process and work through my feelings on this. It is very easy to get sucked into this whole...thing...that has happened. And now I can tell you that I am on the other side of it. So that when I opened my mail last Friday to find a jail letter from Mr.3, I wasn't emotional about it at all. There were 3 letters: one to me, to my lil bro, and to my Mom. The letters are apologetic in a general sense, with claims that he has reconnected to his faith, and asking for forgiveness. Even with all the references he made to my blog in these letters, he failed to remember that I had offered him forgiveness ages ago. My Dad's response to these letters was very short and carefully chosen in the way that only my Dad can be: "two words: bull shit".
So where does this leave things? Pretty much the same as they were before except that now I for sure know where he is. Last time he was in jail, not all of his activities were known, and now we are more organized. And also.....I should really get back to writing this book. It looks like there really might be an ending now.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Waxing poeticially about the moon...and diarrhea
What a week. Seriously. While I had great intentions of writing about my United Nations Association of Utah meeting on Tuesday, and my Salt Lake Council on Foreign Relations meeting on Wednesday, all of my insights went away when I hit my head yesterday morning. I was rushing to get ready for work (I was running late to a meeting) when one of my dining room chairs made a deliberate attempt on my life. I saw stars but as I was late and not bleeding, I still went to work. This is how we know that one day I will die at work....I'll do something stupid and instead of stopping like any other normal human...I'll just continue on until I drop.
Today however, common sense prevailed and I took a sick day. And while I felt much better, there was still a level of strange silliness that governed all that I did. I tried to put together my new desk and if my brother hadn't come over to help me....I still might be trying to put it together.... because, yes, my dexterity was that badly affected by my concussing myself. But the desk is put together and I am currently enjoying a desk situation that makes me want to write....even if it is pure drivel. Also, my desk is now angled in such a way where I can still spy on my neighbors across in the tenement and they really can't see much of me. The new desk also means that my backup hard drive can actually be plugged in and next to my computer for once. So for nostalgia's sake, Jimmy and I looked at the old files and I came across some golden nuggets of writings from me in a file called "Thoughts". They are a collection of short pieces that I wrote in 2002.....just before and shortly after I started blogging. Just like any illicit and vocal reading of a diary....it required a dramatic reading. The results? I come across as a whiny, impatient, privileged bitch. It. was. awesome. And probably, not much about me has changed....except now I have a better knowledge of myself and I know proper semi-colon usage.
For your reading pleasure, I am going to share two pieces with you. Feel free to laugh at my weirdness, because it had Jimmy and I rolling. This first one was written a couple of months before I started this blog:
Oh, my love for humanity truly shines through there doesn't it? Meh. The guy did have a cell phone to call for help.
The second one I am going to share with you, I wrote on a day where I actually did a blog posting. Read the first one and then question why I didn't post this one instead....it's definitely more fun...
And there you go.... if you know anyone else who can wax poeticially about the moon and then in two hits of the return button on the keyboard type about their bowel problems, I want to meet them. They could be my soul mate.
Today however, common sense prevailed and I took a sick day. And while I felt much better, there was still a level of strange silliness that governed all that I did. I tried to put together my new desk and if my brother hadn't come over to help me....I still might be trying to put it together.... because, yes, my dexterity was that badly affected by my concussing myself. But the desk is put together and I am currently enjoying a desk situation that makes me want to write....even if it is pure drivel. Also, my desk is now angled in such a way where I can still spy on my neighbors across in the tenement and they really can't see much of me. The new desk also means that my backup hard drive can actually be plugged in and next to my computer for once. So for nostalgia's sake, Jimmy and I looked at the old files and I came across some golden nuggets of writings from me in a file called "Thoughts". They are a collection of short pieces that I wrote in 2002.....just before and shortly after I started blogging. Just like any illicit and vocal reading of a diary....it required a dramatic reading. The results? I come across as a whiny, impatient, privileged bitch. It. was. awesome. And probably, not much about me has changed....except now I have a better knowledge of myself and I know proper semi-colon usage.
For your reading pleasure, I am going to share two pieces with you. Feel free to laugh at my weirdness, because it had Jimmy and I rolling. This first one was written a couple of months before I started this blog:
April 10, 2002
So I meant to write the other day, but well, I acted like I normally do. On Monday I went to the Laundromat to do my smelly travel laundry. So after I had stuck my first load of clothes in the dryer, I was sitting down reading TIME magazine. When I heard that all too familiar and all too traumatizing sound: the crunch of a car accident. Oh damn, I hate this—I start to write and then the words go too fast in my head and all of the cool things that I had to say about the accident—you know, the deep reflections on how the airbag will smoke after it deflates, and the blood on the young guy who hit the elderly couple’s car forehead, drip drip dripping down. And how I wanted to go and take a rag to his forehead—because I felt that I could have been useful, but decided against it. He had a cell phone, he could call for help, and he did. There was one cool guy who had pulled over to the side of the road and started to direct traffic. He didn’t have too, but he did even until after the police and the fire department had arrived.
Today I am allergy sick—I sound awful, I feel just as bad. I have a ton of crap to do too. It sucks. But I like making list, because I like the satisfaction of being able to cross this off on them.
Oh, my love for humanity truly shines through there doesn't it? Meh. The guy did have a cell phone to call for help.
The second one I am going to share with you, I wrote on a day where I actually did a blog posting. Read the first one and then question why I didn't post this one instead....it's definitely more fun...
June 26, 2002
Today our representative told us that his name is “tombul” when he tried to explain what it meant, he said “like Debbie”. It means “plump”.
I like that word, I like the sound of it, how it just rolls off of your tongue and then bounces. Like a grape on a diving board. Plump.
I got my luggage today from Diyarbakir. The moon was so beautiful. It was low on the horizon but bright and soaked in a deep orange. It seemed to hover, not like it was a fixture in the sky, but more of a stand-in, hoping that people wouldn’t notice that the real one was missing.
I am afraid that I might have diarrhea. That would suck.
And there you go.... if you know anyone else who can wax poeticially about the moon and then in two hits of the return button on the keyboard type about their bowel problems, I want to meet them. They could be my soul mate.
Monday, January 16, 2012
2012 Schemey-Type Thingamajigs
To start off....let's just pretend that I have been blogging the whole time and haven't been on hiatus for almost 3 months. However, if you are feeling hurt, let me know and I will connect you with this guy who I talked to on the phone once....then left for a business trip for a week....and when I contacted him apologizing for being non-communicative for a week accused me of a multitude of things including "leaving him on the porch and expecting to him to wait for me"; of "going along and having my fun"; and of finding someone else while I was gone, using them up, deciding that I didn't like them, and coming back to him as the fall back guy. Yeah....it's as crazy as it sounds. But if you are truly angry at me for not writing, I believe that this guy will be willing to hold the presidency of the "I suck" club.
Now on to other matters.....
It's the new year and of course this means a whole new round of yearly goals and harebrained schemes. I reviewed last year's resolutions, and I performed dismally. Out of the five resolutions I had: I completed one, had three that were unmeasurable, and sadly did not figure out a way to say "mea culpa" to someone in a snarky and sarcastic tone and have that person understand what I mean. Dismal indeed.
So what to do with this year? Quite the conundrum that. Let's start with the measurable:
Yearly Goal One: Pay off my private student loan. Last year's plan to lose some financial weight worked really well as I managed to secure a completely awesome student loan payment plan in which if I work full time for a non-profit for 10 years they write off my balance. So now that my gargantuan student loan debt is now relegated to almost utility payment regularity, I should get rid of my much smaller private loan that could not be put into the awesome payment plan.
Yearly Goal Two: To be kissed romantically. I signed up for a dating site, which hasn't been very successful---as the story above relates.... but I decided that I might as well try to date. I just have to figure out a way to date in which I can have a successful long-term relationship. And while this may be a weird place to put it....for those of you who are curious, baby plans are put off until I figure out a way to pay for day care. And for those who think that I am looking for someone to help pay for the day care with me....please note that my goal is only to be kissed at the moment.
Yearly Goal Three: Work on finishing all of those books that I have started. The pile around my bed keeps threatening to fall on me in the night, trapping me indefinitely.
Yearly Goal Four: If I am not going to celebrate on a paid holiday, at least spend some time learning about the holiday. Case in point, today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day and I went shopping at the mall. I am such a horrible, cliche American sometimes! So to purge a little I watched a documentary on MLK today....and learned something....but I should learn more. So I am going to go a little deeper and research some more topics related to Black History Month.
Yearly Goal Five: Master freetime at home. I have a fairly active social life, but that is only due to some amazing scheduling skills that I have developed. But when it comes to unplanned time at home, I have a tendency to pace my house feeling like I should be working. So I must learn to live the axiom "the time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time". Hopefully this will mean more blogging, some crafty-type things that I would like to do, and possibly....just possibly....me doing something that is completely frivolous like painting my toenails.
I think that is all I got. However this year's harebrained scheme has yet to be decided upon. Normally those have to do with something physical.....and I won't finish with last year's scheme (becoming a yoga teacher) until June. Although I am toying with fencing. Let me know if you have any ideas.
Now on to other matters.....
It's the new year and of course this means a whole new round of yearly goals and harebrained schemes. I reviewed last year's resolutions, and I performed dismally. Out of the five resolutions I had: I completed one, had three that were unmeasurable, and sadly did not figure out a way to say "mea culpa" to someone in a snarky and sarcastic tone and have that person understand what I mean. Dismal indeed.
So what to do with this year? Quite the conundrum that. Let's start with the measurable:
Yearly Goal One: Pay off my private student loan. Last year's plan to lose some financial weight worked really well as I managed to secure a completely awesome student loan payment plan in which if I work full time for a non-profit for 10 years they write off my balance. So now that my gargantuan student loan debt is now relegated to almost utility payment regularity, I should get rid of my much smaller private loan that could not be put into the awesome payment plan.
Yearly Goal Two: To be kissed romantically. I signed up for a dating site, which hasn't been very successful---as the story above relates.... but I decided that I might as well try to date. I just have to figure out a way to date in which I can have a successful long-term relationship. And while this may be a weird place to put it....for those of you who are curious, baby plans are put off until I figure out a way to pay for day care. And for those who think that I am looking for someone to help pay for the day care with me....please note that my goal is only to be kissed at the moment.
Yearly Goal Three: Work on finishing all of those books that I have started. The pile around my bed keeps threatening to fall on me in the night, trapping me indefinitely.
Yearly Goal Four: If I am not going to celebrate on a paid holiday, at least spend some time learning about the holiday. Case in point, today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day and I went shopping at the mall. I am such a horrible, cliche American sometimes! So to purge a little I watched a documentary on MLK today....and learned something....but I should learn more. So I am going to go a little deeper and research some more topics related to Black History Month.
Yearly Goal Five: Master freetime at home. I have a fairly active social life, but that is only due to some amazing scheduling skills that I have developed. But when it comes to unplanned time at home, I have a tendency to pace my house feeling like I should be working. So I must learn to live the axiom "the time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time". Hopefully this will mean more blogging, some crafty-type things that I would like to do, and possibly....just possibly....me doing something that is completely frivolous like painting my toenails.
I think that is all I got. However this year's harebrained scheme has yet to be decided upon. Normally those have to do with something physical.....and I won't finish with last year's scheme (becoming a yoga teacher) until June. Although I am toying with fencing. Let me know if you have any ideas.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Look! It's My Little Brother on the TV!
Sorry, couldn't find an embed link to just post the video here, just click the link below to go to the KSL website.
I am ill not sick
One of the weird carryovers I have from my time in Turkey is that we are supposed to say that we are "ill" when we aren't feeling well rather than "sick". Why? Because the word "sick" in English sounds exactly like the word "fuck" in Turkish. Which also makes using the phrase "sick fuck" entirely redundant, but I digress...
In any case, whether you call it sick or ill, that's what I've been the past two to three days. It started with a cough late Tuesday night and started to morph from there on. I had tickets to the opera on Wednesday evening and was exceedingly glad that they had coughdrops at the concession stand.
I actually stayed home from work Thursday and Friday, which was annoying, but if I have saved my co-workers from this fate, the boredom that comes from being sick might be worth it. I am not sure if this is a change of season cold or a version of the weird haunted house flu given to me by Jimmy. In any case, the symptoms keep changing as it progresses. At first it was an upset stomach with my ears hurting, then it moved to a cough and sore throat, then it moved into head congestion, swollen glands, and the ever unpredictable post-nasal drip. The body is amazing though. I could actually feel it churning away trying to beat this. About an hour ago my fever broke. I wasn't really aware that I had a fever- but my body felt that it was necessary to wake me up to celebrate this momentous occasion. So I woke up feeling much better and drenched in sweat... But now I'm awake and can't seem to get back to sleep which is why I'm blogging on my iPhone at four in the morning.
Of course feeling better doesn't mean that I am fully well. My sinuses and glands still ache but aren't swollen anymore and I have a productive cough now. Actually I think my body woke me up after the fever broke so that I could take some more cold medicine for this post-fever hangover I've got. I will say this though- I do feel well enough to leave the house today- hopefully I'll still feel the same way after I get some more sleep this morning.
Here's to hoping.
In any case, whether you call it sick or ill, that's what I've been the past two to three days. It started with a cough late Tuesday night and started to morph from there on. I had tickets to the opera on Wednesday evening and was exceedingly glad that they had coughdrops at the concession stand.
I actually stayed home from work Thursday and Friday, which was annoying, but if I have saved my co-workers from this fate, the boredom that comes from being sick might be worth it. I am not sure if this is a change of season cold or a version of the weird haunted house flu given to me by Jimmy. In any case, the symptoms keep changing as it progresses. At first it was an upset stomach with my ears hurting, then it moved to a cough and sore throat, then it moved into head congestion, swollen glands, and the ever unpredictable post-nasal drip. The body is amazing though. I could actually feel it churning away trying to beat this. About an hour ago my fever broke. I wasn't really aware that I had a fever- but my body felt that it was necessary to wake me up to celebrate this momentous occasion. So I woke up feeling much better and drenched in sweat... But now I'm awake and can't seem to get back to sleep which is why I'm blogging on my iPhone at four in the morning.
Of course feeling better doesn't mean that I am fully well. My sinuses and glands still ache but aren't swollen anymore and I have a productive cough now. Actually I think my body woke me up after the fever broke so that I could take some more cold medicine for this post-fever hangover I've got. I will say this though- I do feel well enough to leave the house today- hopefully I'll still feel the same way after I get some more sleep this morning.
Here's to hoping.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
The Post in Which I Claim Big Sister Bragging Rights
Those that know me well, know that one of my favorite things to do is to brag about how talented my little brother is, but it isn't something that I do very often or at all on this here blog of mine. So for the benefit of the extended family who read this blog....here is what Jimmy is up to.
First of all, it is October, which means that unless you are at a haunted house you are unlikely to see him the entire month. It also means that he never really sleeps during this month and takes awful care of himself.....but he loves the work that he does so much that he figures that once haunt season is over he will have plenty of time to recuperate.
"Haunt kids" are a strange bunch. The Halloween fever starts in mid-July, strange characters and voices start to appear from them in August, September is prep for opening, October for performance, and then everyone crashes in November just managing to feel like a normal human again by Thanksgiving.
For the 5th year in a row, Jimmy is working at Nightmare on 13th. This year he is working security, makeup, and fostering his other great talent- that of being an artist. He's done two of the backdrops for the 3 photo booths, updated several of their rooms and even figured out how to paint realistic looking rust.
Each year the various news agencies send out morning remotes to the haunted house. Last week channel 2 was there but all you saw was the annoying anchor-dude. This morning Jimmy was on channel 4 and was featured in at least two of the segments that I saw. If video is posted online, I'll track it down and post it here. Here is a photo of the anchor and Jimmy.
He's was very good in front of the camera. I am very impressed. On Friday, he will be on Channel 13's morning show as one of the Haunt's spokesmen.
Here are a couple more shots of his makeup handiwork.
And another...
Jimmy also turned 23 this week. Which just astounds me... he has turned into such a wonderful young man: fun, silly, driven, caring....and oh so many other things.
But most of all, he's my little baby brother who I love so so dearly.
Jimmy opening up his birthday card from Mom and Dad....the distance is hard to take sometimes.
First of all, it is October, which means that unless you are at a haunted house you are unlikely to see him the entire month. It also means that he never really sleeps during this month and takes awful care of himself.....but he loves the work that he does so much that he figures that once haunt season is over he will have plenty of time to recuperate.
"Haunt kids" are a strange bunch. The Halloween fever starts in mid-July, strange characters and voices start to appear from them in August, September is prep for opening, October for performance, and then everyone crashes in November just managing to feel like a normal human again by Thanksgiving.
For the 5th year in a row, Jimmy is working at Nightmare on 13th. This year he is working security, makeup, and fostering his other great talent- that of being an artist. He's done two of the backdrops for the 3 photo booths, updated several of their rooms and even figured out how to paint realistic looking rust.
Each year the various news agencies send out morning remotes to the haunted house. Last week channel 2 was there but all you saw was the annoying anchor-dude. This morning Jimmy was on channel 4 and was featured in at least two of the segments that I saw. If video is posted online, I'll track it down and post it here. Here is a photo of the anchor and Jimmy.
He's was very good in front of the camera. I am very impressed. On Friday, he will be on Channel 13's morning show as one of the Haunt's spokesmen.
Here are a couple more shots of his makeup handiwork.
And another...Jimmy also turned 23 this week. Which just astounds me... he has turned into such a wonderful young man: fun, silly, driven, caring....and oh so many other things.
But most of all, he's my little baby brother who I love so so dearly.
Jimmy opening up his birthday card from Mom and Dad....the distance is hard to take sometimes.
Saturday, October 01, 2011
Greetings from the middle of nowhere
Thanks to finally finding the wireless passcode and my pretty new iPhone- I'm now able to blog. Which I would rather do that the suggested "journalling".
So where am I? I'm at a yoga retreat that is five miles outside of a small town that you've never heard of, that is twenty-five miles outside of another town that you've probably never heard of, that is a hundred plus miles from my home base. This retreat is part of my yoga teacher training. While I was expecting it to kick my ass physically- I was not expecting the emotional ass kicking that I also received. The emotional stuff was more than "let's discuss and cry about how much we love everyone" (which there is plenty happening of- believe me)...it was more of a case of not knowing why you are crying and desperately trying to stop crying... But instead you just end up crying so hard you're snorting on the group hike you took after the power yoga class you just had in which you just curled into child's pose and cried throughout. Yeah... It has been a very weird couple of days.
I have discovered that there is a difference between feeling sore and resistance in your body and feeling pain. I've also discovered that you can get very creative in poses if you are trying to avoid re-injuring yourself.
Here are some other things that I have learned-
1. I'm an overly aggressive ping pong player.
2. The world is still pretty small as I met two (count them two) other people here who went to the same elementary, middle, and high school with.
3. I thought that I was the only non-Mormon here but I'm not. There were a bunch of people who were hiding and trying to seem like they were so they could fit in.
4. While we had a co-ed wing of the lodge- I'm the only girl who is actually in a co-ed room. And it's lovely. No strange girly lotion smells and thankfully no glitter toenail painting parties.
5. Partner yoga is a reward in itself and you learn more about your interactions with others and how you approach relationships because of it.
I'm sure that I'll have more insights after I get home tomorrow. I definitely will have more to offer in the discussion at work about what the word "retreat" really entails. Corena- the owner of the studio- said that "vacations were for falling asleep and retreats are for waking up." it's so very true.
Oh! And bunk beds suck no matter what you're age.
So where am I? I'm at a yoga retreat that is five miles outside of a small town that you've never heard of, that is twenty-five miles outside of another town that you've probably never heard of, that is a hundred plus miles from my home base. This retreat is part of my yoga teacher training. While I was expecting it to kick my ass physically- I was not expecting the emotional ass kicking that I also received. The emotional stuff was more than "let's discuss and cry about how much we love everyone" (which there is plenty happening of- believe me)...it was more of a case of not knowing why you are crying and desperately trying to stop crying... But instead you just end up crying so hard you're snorting on the group hike you took after the power yoga class you just had in which you just curled into child's pose and cried throughout. Yeah... It has been a very weird couple of days.
I have discovered that there is a difference between feeling sore and resistance in your body and feeling pain. I've also discovered that you can get very creative in poses if you are trying to avoid re-injuring yourself.
Here are some other things that I have learned-
1. I'm an overly aggressive ping pong player.
2. The world is still pretty small as I met two (count them two) other people here who went to the same elementary, middle, and high school with.
3. I thought that I was the only non-Mormon here but I'm not. There were a bunch of people who were hiding and trying to seem like they were so they could fit in.
4. While we had a co-ed wing of the lodge- I'm the only girl who is actually in a co-ed room. And it's lovely. No strange girly lotion smells and thankfully no glitter toenail painting parties.
5. Partner yoga is a reward in itself and you learn more about your interactions with others and how you approach relationships because of it.
I'm sure that I'll have more insights after I get home tomorrow. I definitely will have more to offer in the discussion at work about what the word "retreat" really entails. Corena- the owner of the studio- said that "vacations were for falling asleep and retreats are for waking up." it's so very true.
Oh! And bunk beds suck no matter what you're age.
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