Mirror

I'm aflutter. I don't know how else to say it. Feel like the parts of me are swirling about in the universe and occasionally I can catch a piece, but not keep it. That's to say that comfort visits like brief sporadic spasms of potato soup, golden girls, smell of garlic cooking, great book-chapter six. But, it doesn't stay. And for that reason, I feel really really odd.

I think the truth is this...I'm scared and so parts of me are fleeing. Parts that I have found and claimed are taking flight - no longer feeling good about being me - parts. So, that what's left standing is this shell of me. And what gets proven is that I have nothing to give. I am nothing. And I can only be nothing. Therefore, being something to someone just isn't in the book for me.

I am a flood inside. I feel like my body is full of water, tears, sadness, worry, pre-made grief.

I know what I wrote yesterday. And I am at a different place than I have been. Very. Different. And better, because now I can actually see what is going on. I think.

I just haven't put myself out there in a long time. And I've been safe to build a me, quietly. No intrusions. A controlled atmosphere. Planting seeds and nurturing little thoughts about being.

And then, what do I do? After all these years? I pay attention to what's going on outside of me for about ten seconds and spot a cute mechanic. And well, it's a snail's pace...but something could happen. And frankly, that terrifies me. Someone. in. my. life.

And this should be fun. Right? Just the idea should be fun. Should be playful. Should not be this. This - me in pieces.

I am being a Jackson Pollack painting. I am being the tale-tell heart. Knowing where it comes from is half the battle I suspect. And if I am patient, the answers to a peaceful soul and a bit of frivolity for spirit may come to me. I just hope so.

Carrie, Big, Samantha, Dante, Charlotte, Rose, Miranda, Steve, Manolo closets and more

Well, I saw it. More importantly, I LOVED IT!! And I will see it again. Because it must be done. It's just what this girl needed. The saturation point of girl-y-ness. The dresses, the clothes, the shoes, the tears, the gab, the ganache, the sex, the boys, the truth, the libations, the swash, the buckling and the friendship all called me right out of my hum-drum-hum. And I feel healed! I truly do.

It hits that part of you that's just all about being a girl. That unavoidable piece inside that gets teary at simple moments (no laughing at me, Kari!) and rejoices over champagne, great shoes, love stories and the belief in love stories. Connection with other women. Friendship in that "sometimes I really hate you" way of being close with a friend. And romance in that men are men, women are women gutteral type of way. Success in that "by God, I'm figuring it out" type of way.

I love being a girl.



(Thanks Kari for choosing me over the fabs - it was a great day to share with a true friend like you are to me.)

I hope...

I hope, I hope, I hope, I hope...

that baby herb and vegetable plants are cheap when I go for shopping on the morrow.

that Trinity finishes his project without another day passing.

that the humidity will move on down the road towards Key Largo.

that travel to Europe gets less expensive rather than more expensive.

that the $5 bottle of wine I got on sale isn't corked.

that my yard will grow slowly this week for a change.

that the spotted dog will mellow out soon.

that I have something better to write about soon.

:)

What Dreams may come

Do you remember this movie with Robin Williams and he finds his wife in an altered universe after she has committed suicide over a dead boy? I can't remember the details. I know that the first time I watched it, it was okay. And the second time, better. I also remember that she painted pictures of where she wanted to be, and that is where he found her. So much of the current thought follows the "build it and it will appear" type of theology. The misty parts of me want to buy it, but there are other parts, clear-on that just won't let me.

Ruth Jean said today that some folks have it, while others don't. And God, I hope that's not true. But, she's a wise girl.

We also shared a joke. The difference between involvement and committment can best be displayed by a ham and egg breakfast. The chicken was involved, the pig was committed.

I'm coming off of two straight weeks of work...that no days off for 15 days and I think it is hitting me in the funny bone. As in, life's not being funny. I want to get back to that. I keep throwing the curtains wide and looking for it, but it's not there. And I know that I must be exuding the fragrance of despair because my chiropractor hugged me twice today and my 77 year old friend told me as I was getting out of the car that if anyone was mean to me, tell her and she would open a can of whoop ass on them. I believe her too. But, without my saying a thing about my immediate emotional struggle...both of them knew it.

Sometimes I can't see the forest for the trees. I know this. I get stuck and my sockets dry up staring in one sad direction. There's a nibble in my ear that soon, it's time to move on. I think I am stretching a part of my life, a place of my life that may have already done all it can do. Don't ask me where or when or how or why. I just feel well, like I've overstayed my time on this particular journey. Or maybe I am just traveling all wrong. I'm not sure which it is. So, of course, I will sit still and try to travel differently. But one of the great things about re-location is that it makes reinvention so much more feasible, necessary, easy. I don't think I am a "runner". I have been, but I am more sensible. But, I do tend to grow out of places sometimes.

If you mow in flip flops, you will have green feet. YOU might also slide down the creek bank with the push mower and scare yourself a little.

I saw Indiana last night...and as my friend Michael said, "it made me forget who I am for a couple hours" and anytime a movie can do that, I am thrilled. I love the idea of escape! Tomorrow it is Sex in the City with Kari - no, sillies, not Carrie! K a r i , the other one, still just as sensational. I'll let you know what I think!

Considering other mediums

Do you ever wish there was a sign out sheet for being human? Like the gym when you borrow a towel and sign it out and later sign it back in? I feel like that today. I'd like to sign out of being human and be something else. Now, I know what you're thinking..."look at the other possibilities". I could be a blade of grass waiting for the cool slice of the blade. I could be the fly that you will swat from the office wall at midday. I could be the dolphin that ends up in an un-safe can of tuna. Or the earthworm that gets caught on the asphalt after a rain and left there to parch in the hot afternoon sun. Yes, they've all got negatives. But, sometimes, I just want to step out on being human...and that's absolutely impossible when you look and act human.

If I could step out this evening, I might be a big giant tiger sleeping in a great tree deep in the jungle. Queen of my domain and answering to no one. I'd just sleep and purr and sleep and purr.

I know I"m just tired. But, sometimes being human is such a J O B.

I wanna be loved by you...Boop Boop Be Do

Well, I believe that I am partially arisen from the dead-dog-dead that I have been. I still get up and walk my two miles, but rather slowly adding 10 minutes to my overall time. There are physical tasks still to accomplish that I am avoiding - the yard (like a jungle) the house (like an asylum). I will get to them, I just haven't yet.

So, the movie was a success. We had over 100 people, and tickets sales from 90 people paid for the event, so my profit was just over $20 (of course, there were food and wine sales to add to that). I wanted to keep the ticket price low at $5, so I needed a high number to do that and pay for the flick and the movie guy. I made it, which thrilled me. It was nice to offer something affordable for a change. I believe that most of our events are in the common guy/gal range, but I loved giving a big break. I hope a lot of people who needed it, got a cheap date for the evening, or just a night out doing something fun. It looked beautiful on the restaurant lawn. I took photos, but they are too dark to put on here (I've tried). There were more than a few people who hadn't seen Some Like it HOt ever, or in its entirety. And they were surprised at how clever it is and how riskee. So, that leads me to plan a movie for labor day, and I am considering Hitchcock, or something along those lines...the fall mystery. I love Rear Window. Our assistant winemaker voted for North by Northwest. I like the Birds and Psycho, but I think they're too much with the birds' pecking and the shower scene. Have to keep things pretty clean. Then, we got off into other favorites, my co-worker mentioned Little Shop of Horrors, which I like but not sure folks will follow it well. Rocky HOrror Picture show, which I love...but it's way too campy for us (meaning the winery, not me). I mentioned my favorite all time spook-y flick which is a comedy (because I cannot truly handle horror) Young Frankenstein. And everyone went crazy over that idea. It's such a great movie. What do you think? What would you like to watch as fall approaches outside in the dark with other people? I'd love to hear your ideas.

Winemakers' dinner was phenomenal. I tend to think I was just a bit too tired to really "get" it because I didn't rave about it the way everyone else did (and by that I mean returning customers and winemaking staff). There was a wonderful pimento buerre blanc sauce with a petite beef tenderloin sided by morel mushrooms. Grilled salmon in a red wine reduction. Asparagus with a citrus sabayon and balsamic reduction, pork snitzel with cheese grits and a Calvados brandy sauce. Smoked trout salad. A wonderful bread pudding with a hard cider sauce. I liked our French affair last SEptember much better. Of course, the pairings were a little more edgy and I like that type thing. These pairings seemed a bit more peaceful. We did do a red with the salmon, not a Pinot (which is very good) but rather a blend that we call Liberty. It's a light bodied red like a PInot, but it involves the Cabernet fRanc grape, the Chambourcin grape and a bit of Petit Verdot. Other than that, the pairings were fairly safe. I enjoyed it...a free six course meal should never be scoffed at, especially when our Chef is involved. I just thought it wasn't as exciting as last season's was.

As I get older, I am struggling with how to give breaks to myself. I feel tremendous guilt about the yard and the house and yet, I am unable to do it...just worn completely out. I think after today (day two of healing after long weekend) I should be able to work on one or the other this evening. But, that idea of go go go is becoming a difficult one for me to master. And I think guilt is the most useless emotion. Normally, I won't harbor it at all...but just this time I am having a hard time letting myself rest up/heal and get back to "normal" feeling before I begin to beat myself up for all the things that need doing. I guess we are all this way...so used to going crazily. But, I am less able to do it, so I figure I better find a way to not mutilate mentally while I am at rest physically. Any suggestions there would be appreciated.

I guess I better head in the direction of work. I've got a popcorn machine waiting to be cleaned, wine to return to its rightful location, and so much paperwork to wrestle with. Taking the end of the week off though, so definitely looking forward to that. I have to get over to my garden, it's been growing without me!

You thought I was over him, didn't you???

Not so much. Cause he's still dreamy. So, I'll sleep per-chance to dream.

Zonked!

I'm too tired to tell you the stories of the weekend. There are many. One about the outdoor movie (a success!) and another about Winemakers' dinner this evening (so damn fabulous) and still more about what's circulating in my brain as May closes.

But, I cannot do it tonight. 17 hours of work yesterday, 15.5 today. Mostly physical labor. Age is another thing we should talk about, or try to ignore, or toss into the great blue sea. But, not tonight.

Soon.

Protection

I was reading this morning about the children of the Texas sect being due to return home to families. The state overstepped its boundaries, it appears and got a little slap from the judge. I struggle with all of this, mainly because I am such an independent soul. I couldn't live within any type of community like that...I would be crazy. So, I wish for the children there to have the opportunity to see another way of life. Possibly have the chance to see that what is normal to them (early marriage, etc) may not be the norm elsewhere.

But, the thing is that you pretty much get what you get. And you grow there. And I do believe that if the spirit is in you to believe in something else for your life...you will keep knocking on that door until it opens and lets you out to find it.

My friend Ruth Jean and I talked about how when individuality is squashed early on, it seems to be more pronounced and oft more aggressive later on. There's no parallel here...I am probably thinking more on my own experience. I was squashed in my home, but I just went deep, got quiet and built an internal dialogue that was me. I also got nurtured in school because I was considered smart and therefore got opportunities that other children did not. In terms of my personal growth though, my self evaluation, I wish that there had of been a system to nurture that. I wish that I hadn't been ignored by the few systems I was a part of, and I wish that someone in school had of reached out to check on my heart. Because I lived in a sad scary place, and I grew up to be someone who felt like she deserved it. And it's taken me YEARS to begin to step out of that.

So, I get distracted about this concept of protection. On one hand, I don't want the state involved in anyone's life aggressively. But, on the other, I do want us all paying attention to each other and maybe reaching in sometimes when it's not comfortable to say, "are you okay?"

Anyway, that's just this mornings thoughts. I haven't followed the story close enough to be well versed on it. As it usual, I pick up the parts I am interested in and go from there. I tend to like to do my own thinking rather than spend too much time on someone else's.

On a brighter note, we have liftoff with the mechanic. I'll keep you posted.

Question

I have no words today, so I will give you someone else's. Hopefully the week will get better as it goes along.

Question

Body my house
my horse my hound
what will I do
when you are fallen

Where will I sleep
How will I ride
What will I hunt

Where can I go
without my mount
all eager and quick
How will I know
in thicket ahead
is danger or treasure
When Body my good
bright dog is dead

How will it be
to lie in the sky
without roof or door
and wind for an eye

with cloud for a shift
how will I hide?

--May Swenson

Dinner at the Mansion - we, two

If you turned this clockwise 45 degrees (or so) it would be a house. It would be a very big house and it would be the house we had Tuesday night dinner in this evening. Two instead of four, happily and unhappily.

The kitchen to prepare food in...for the "morning after", Trinity's theme this time. I told him that at this rate, we need to just call it all drama and no action.

The dining room where we ate and talked and ate and talked and, well, ate and talked.

Hopefully Josh and Leslie will join us again next week. Otherwise, we are drafting new recruits!

Terrible Tuesday

I am having a wine gulping day. I had a conversation with my friend at Pursuit of Ho-Ho's and she said she didn't like wine and one reason was the whole sipping thing. And I said that we, true winos know that there are wine gulping times and today has been one of them. Last week was mad, to be certain. And so, today, I hoped for better-=ness. I got a call from my beach band that's been under contract with us since March and wanted out of it. There's no one else to book. I was frantically calm. I never let them see me sweat. But, I was ready, ever so ready to say, "you did cash our check." I didn't...I was nice, sweet condensed milk nice...that kind that coats your mouth, throat and tummy nice. And it worked, they decided to stay. For the moment. I however, was quite ill.

The dog continues to be not "pottying" outside, and going in his crate. Today, he didn't go at all until this evening outside. And he feels tremendous guilt. I can tell. So, I don't know what the answer is. But, I know that it is not, continuuous days of my cleaning a crate after a 2 year old very intelligent dog.

The car cost me $30 today, and got me no closer to getting to know the cute mechanic who works with my mechanic. Why? you ask, with such a perfect opportunity...I am there, he is there. He is recovering from surgery so not busy, I am waiting, so available. But, nooooooo, I say a few words and then cower in the corner like a girl who has been a wall-creeper too long. I'll never learn. I'll be single my whole life. Damn....it!

I am out of the wine that my event people decided to pour for their prestigious gig, so now I have to take time tomorrow (when there truly is NO TIME) to run a new bottle for tasting 1.5 hours away. (See above..."Damn...it!")

Now, I am preparing for Tuesday night dinner (oh my! it's time to go right now!!) and hoping that I can borrow a whole bottle of wine for my immediate consumption. Thou shalt not sip, and nor will I.

Cheerio, then!

Morning tales

Two deer greeted us on the way out this morning. I believe that they were watching the cats quarrel on the back porch because they were mesmerized and stood there for long minutes focused on them. I always wonder what wild animals think of domesticated ones? I didn't get a picture, because I never imagined they'd stay long enough once I had opened the old loud door. They did though, stomping and snorting for a few seconds before they leapt just a bit away into the woods and stoood watching from there. We all spy on one another don't we? Wondering how life is different lived by someone else.

It's a cool soft morning and I loved being out in it. This is my favorite time of year before the heat descends and leaves even the blue mountains muggy. The humidity is here of course, and my hair is at full alert daily. I thought I had escaped it in the mountains here, but it's looked me up and we are again feuding. Humidity wins no matter how many hair products I buy, or how tightly I scarf my hair when outdoors for any amount of time whatsoever. Mother Nature in her many moods rules the day of hair for me and until she bestows fall and winter, I can only hope to be mildly hair erratic for the seasons ahead. It won't happen, but I can hope for it.

Refugee Eyes

This small photo compilation and audio from Ruth Gruber is amazing. I visited Auchwitz when I was in Poland and it is an experience that I will never forget or let go of.

Lean on Me

I people watched yesterday. A trip into my favorite small town, and one of America's favorite small towns, Mt. Airy, or more favorably, Mayberry, NC. I love the good will there, where I found two sharp winter skirts and nothing for summer...but that's usually how it goes with hand me downs. I meandered yesterday, which I don't normally do...but other than this weekend, I will have one more full weekend off until about August...so my life is ready to go into overdrive and I felt like meandering, so I did. At the mall, I was sitting outside and watched an elderly couple walk out and up to the curb and as they neared this treacherous passage (from sidewalk to parking lot) they took each other's hand and leaned into one another for support to step down. And they held that pose all the way to their car. At Walmart, I saw two elderly women doing the same thing. And later on Main street, I noticed several elderly folks supporting one another carefully.

I had a conversation last week with my friend/co-worker about my inability to be emotional. The other event coordinator at the winery (she does weddings, I DO NOT - thank GOD!) kinda screwed me last week by booking two weddings on an event weekend and leaving me in a pickle as to where to put my outdoor movie this coming weekend. She so sincerely cried and asked my forgiveness. She went to the president of the company and cried and asked his forgiveness. And of course, none of us could be angry - she is lovely and humble and true. But, had I of made this type of colossal error and booked something when I was told not to, and affected my co-worker in such a big way, I would have probably set myself for going. The responsibility of it would crush me, but I wouldnt' cry or be able to, and I would just set the wheels in motion to find a new job or something. This is not to say that I don't make mistakes, because I do. But, I cannot go to that emotional place and so I plan to flee the premises and make folks not have to deal with my incompetence. This is not what I think my co-worker should have done by the way. My example is not the lead I want to give. I would like another example for me! BUt, as sincere as I might feel in my apology, I couldn't do it, I couldn't cry to my peers or my boss. And this isn't necessarily my point, because I don't believe in expressing tears at work for me. But, I don't express myself this way personally and that is what truly bothers me. I can't go there, I stay in the safe parts of life. My friend/co-worker said that she was the same way as me, she grew up in a place where her family was not expressive. Then, she married an expressive man, so she has to really discipline herself to be expressive with him. But, she is farther than me in that she did get married. That's not everyone's answer, I do realize that.

BUt, looking at all those elderly couples I thought how we spend our lives not being sure of one another for one reason or the next. We question motives and feelings and sincerity. But at the end, we are left with no choice but to lean into another human and take harshness of the world by two. It's funny isn't it? And it makes me wonder why it takes us so long to understand that point. WE have to be crippled by age to get that we need one another, that we should just decide to love one another because the world is so much bigger than any one of us can handle alone.

And I believe this. I saw it with my own eyes yesterday. But, changing, even by baby steps, can be excruciatingly slow. I am impatient, as usual, with my process.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzz

There were babies
and catfish
and too many different conversations.

There were miles
and tread worn thinner by the asphalt.

Blackberry cobbler,
but there was none of that.
Instead guilty pardon

Not for me.
And however, I am too tired
to express the events or weary of the memory
too lately left.

Good nite then
until tomorrow.

Cha Cha Cha

Sometimes I forget I can be different. It is within my power to be different, and sometimes I forget that. Not even sometimes, but most all the time. I forget I can be different. Not that this is bad and that is better. But that is not what I am doing now and so it might work for me, when this isn't. And I totally forget that.

Today was lousy. Day three of getting bombarded by other people's stuff and never digging into my own. And I got home and I didn't know what to do with myself. I had to mow the lawn, and therefore I mowed. Then, I ate rice and some grilled chicken. And day old rice...not the ticket. Well, not the ticket to anywhere fabulous (can't lose that word this week). I know it feeds a lot of people quite well, and I'm not knocking it because it brought me all the way through college. But, it is what it is and recooked rice is not good food. So, I sat and felt sorry for the pathetic creature that I am. Then, I watched a movie - Atonement. Read the book, quite lovely. Never wanted to keep watching the movie until Vanessa Redgrave did the last 10 minutes or so and then I was mesmerized. This means that I FF'd most of it and only really watched the last ten. One can do this when they have read the novel. Still I felt pathetic. Perhaps more so, since Redgrave in her infinite captivating way showed me what real women can be, ageless and rare and exquisite and mysterious even at the end of their lifetime (not to say she is dying...but older than I am). Then, I came here and no one was writing.

It's what happened next that brings me to the "I can be different" revelation. I looked at my walkman, broken slightly from the woods toss two days ago. And I knew it would never make the trip. Just one more reason not to run. (I had already decided not to bike because it looks stormy...and I go farther when I bike and cannot convince myself to stay close to home). Then, I looked at the spotted dog...wayyyyyyy too energetic. And then, something that felt like pure anger welled up inside of me and I just took the blue leash from the wall, snapped it on Bently's collar and ran out the door and up the road, leaving two cats meowing in the distance. I ran and I ran and I ran to the creek (not even one full mile away..so don't be impressed) and I stopped (because the dog had to pee) and I thought...this is a different me. Regular old me would rather stay in the house, feel bad about myself and build a case of abuse and neglect against my already suffering character. This was different me. And just for that, I put one foot in front of the other and ran all the way back to the church (halfway) until I needed a breather (some uphill here) and the dog needed a potty break. We met cats there and we all ran back to the house together.

Now, I'm not going to say that will happen tomorrow OR the next day. But, it happened today, and that's good enough for me. It's so easy to forget how much power I have over my own life. Because there are so many things I don't have power over. But once in a while, I get the chance to see myself differently. It doesn't make the bad stuff go away, it doesn't change the small realities that are just me. But, it gives me an inkling of my own hutzbah, and I like that.

I needed another picture of Eddie.

Or two....

(I just can't help myself.)

Sometimes it just HAS to be all about ME.

Well, I have hurt my friend's feelings or made him mad or something...and I'm not sure which. Being the up front honest girl that I am, I will ask him the next time I see him and find out...because I don't like being in the dark about these type things.

Yes, I am nearing 40. Yes, I am very shy and insecure. And Yes, I am terrible, terrible, terrible when it comes to men. I love loving them from afar. I love the idea of them. Everything mostly about them. But, I am terrible when it comes to men. So, I asked my friend to help me find out about the mechanic who is nice, and care-full and kinda cute across the road (from where my friend works). And he scooped once, and since has seemed hesitant about it. So, I've asked him...do you get a strange vibe from this guy? No. Do you think he wouldn't be interested in the likes of me? No. I'm getting nothing but a strange vibe from my friend that smells like, "I don't want to do this." Which is very unlike my friend. He's usually very supportive and all about helping people be happy. But, he's had a rough year and he could be in such a bad place that he cannot see a good one for anyone else.

But, dammit, I need him. And sometimes, you deserve a kickback on time served. I've served time this past year. I want a kickback.

Don't say my friend secretly loves me, because I can't say why that isn't true...but trust me when I say there's no way that it's true. It's not me being modest. It's me keeping a secret. He loves someone, but she's not me.

Am I being terribly terrible with my friend? Asking for kickbacks when he doesn't seem to want to give them? Or do you sometimes just have to reach out and kick the bucket so folks will help you when you need help? I've never been very good at that, always kept to the background. So, that's another part...I am changing and I want to be 50% of the relationships I am in...and maybe that's not the kind of friendship my friend wants.

(I'm a little sad. But, I'll get over it.)

Fabulous

I'm having a pretty bad day today, so I go around reading about all these people who call themselves fabulous and I wonder how in the hell do they get to that place? Is it the "say it over and over again until it becomes your truth" method? I'm working with that, but I gotta say that I get to a nice plateau and then somebody slaps me upside the head and I become just a bit frustrated again. It's a mindset...I know, and I have to work at it. But, do all those other people get it naturally? Because that's just not fair.

Ten Reasons Why I am unable to be Fabulous today:

1. Dog - Crate (Again)
2. Too windy to ride bike.
3. Decided to make myself run, but walkman (yes, I am old school) refused to play through and kept skipping, so that I was so angry I threw it into the woods and then spent 10 minutes trying to find it again.
4. Helped other people with projects at work today and GOT NONE OF MY OWN WORK DONE!
5. I've spent SOOOOOOO many hours listening to my friend go on about his relationship, but will he go ahead and get the scoop on mechanic boy for me...NOOOOOOOO, no time for it. Sometimes friends SUCK.
6. They canceled my new favorite show, October Road.
7. It's cold...not breezy, not spring cool but it's supposed to be in the 30's tonight.
8. I cannot afford to be a world traveller, unless I join the carnival - which as everyone says, is a gritty bad idea.
9. The yellow cat is crazed today and attacks ALL of us as soon as we step out the door. I guess it's the wind, or he's lost the few marbles he was in possession of.
10. No matter how much I tell myself it's true, I don't think I can ever be as fabulous as everyone else. And that's so unfair.

I promised myself as I ran down the dirt road that I would not write until I came into a better state of mind. But, to be honest, my mood has improved dramatically in the past hour. Yeah, really.

Another reason to love Eddie...

Of course, I am still voraciously reading everything in print and this evening, I found this wonderful quote here - "For all Izzard's candour, one area remains out of bounds: his love life. You can ask until the cows come home, but don't expect him to reveal anything about it, beyond the confession that, "I love vampy, va-va-voomy women. I like curves as opposed to that strange needle shape."

(Sigh.)

You must remember this....

No bike ride today...it's too windy. I can barely peddle the two miles on a normal day, the wind would put me at ground zero. So, it's been a house day.



I never told you about the cinema last night at the winery. First of all, it was cold and second, it was wonderful. The screen was huge and there were stars out and not a large crowd, which made me sad for them and possibly for me, if my crowd looks the same in two weeks.

Victor Lazlo is fabulous, right? Handsome and driven, passionate and generous, and his heart is in the right place. Then, there's Rick. Who isn't as handsome, hangs out in a bar sitting on the fence, and often states that he wouldn't put himself out to help anyone. But, here's the thing...Victor dreams of it, all the right moves, but Rick, he makes them. And it seems like he never even thinks them through, they just happen to occur. For all Victor's romantic planning, Rick is the get 'er done guy. He makes a girl feel safe in that taken care of way. Not in the "everything will be okay" way, but in the "don't worry, kid, I'll take care of it" kind of way. Meaning that he may not handle it in an agreeable manner, but it will be handled. Victor seems to be open to reason, more of a conversationalist.

I believe that Ilsa wanted Rick to make the decision, and I think she wanted to get on that plane. Who she really wanted to go with, I'll not guess at...but that she didn't want to be left in war torn Casablanca, I am pretty sure of.

I'd never seen it on the big screen, so that was a real treat. Big HOllywood was meant to be on the big screen and under the stars it was ever sweeter. I'm glad I went, although the turnout was less than enthusiastic. And there wasn't popcorn.

Matinee

Well, I cried again...watching Good Will Hunting. This may be the 10th time I've run into it on the tv midday when I need a cleaning break. And I forget its many messages, how it makes me laugh and believe in common genius, how I always cry because there's so much truth in the idea that we take the blame for everything instead of realizing that life is a hit and be hit situation sometimes. When you get hit early in life, before you learn self-defense, sometimes you spend your entire life taking credit for all the bad stuff. Waiting for the other brick to fall. Pre-supposing that you won't do well for yourself.

I guess that in any controlled atmosphere, it is necessary to keep the masses at low energy. It makes sense that were we all too full of our own importance, we would not share space as well as we do. I understand it, how it works and why. I don't get how we, how I have such a terribly difficult time accepting it to be the exercise that it is...why do I take it so seriously, so personally?

I hated the roadrunner cartoons, Bugs bunny, tweety and sylvester...all those guys. They bought into the same idea that one is strong and weak minded while the other is smart and doesn't need strength. It's wrong though. Inner strength is necessary for all paths, and I believe it to be the most difficult to master. It means going against the conformist ideas that you learn from birth. It means believing in your self regardless of how you compare to everything, everyone else. It is a solo march in a troop universe. And although we set ourselves up pretty well to survive, I don't think we know how to thrive as individuals. I don't know how to do it. It's number one on my agenda, but no one's teaching it.

I think I cry every time because I know how fragile we all are, and how much we have the ability to help one another if we aren't afraid. As I age, I find myself more scared though, and that tells me that I am veering off path in ways that I don't want to go.

I don't like them apples.

Flux

I'm mad at the dog...and I hate being mad at the dog. But, he wouldn't go this morning and then ended up going in the crate while I was at work. And he knows better. He is almost two. We are at an impasse.

There is time right now. Time to clean or to go walking. Time to watch television or read a book. Time to surf the net, or dance to the radio. But I feel like being still and yet that's never quite possible for me. I have to be on my way to something, planning how to be on my way, just returning, busily preparing or considering my options. I cannot just be still and that frustrates me. I used to could do it. I used to enjoy it, that moment to moment-ness of being immobile for a while. Now, it drums up guilt, makes me feel apathetic, seems to re-name me lazy.

I'm taking off in a couple hours to check out the competition. Another winery doing an outdoor movie. So so mad that I got scooped! Now, I have to go see what they do, so that two weeks later, hopefully I can do it better. I am doing it cheaper. But, sometimes that's not enough these days.

I should close. I think I just wanted to check in...see how the air felt here.

Ten Things

1. I wish that I could read all the books that I cannot afford and are not carried in our small town libraries. Like this one.
Or this one.

2. I kinda love riding my bike, even though it is still kicking my ass!

3. Last week at this exact moment I was sitting in the DAR constituition hall waiting for Eddie to come on stage, and talking about the couple conducting music two seats ahead with my friend.

4. I hope that I can grow cilantro this year. I love it the most for herbing, and I am the worst at growing it in the garden or pot.

5. If I could go back in time, I would visit Italy, more specifically Florence and sit with Botticelli for a while. I would wait for Caravaggio to come onto the scene and I would risk sanity to know him. I would ask Michelangelo what he meant by the Sistene Chapel...what he dreamt it to be before it became what it is now.

6. Beets are one of my favorite things...and some people tint their lips with them!

7. I wonder who I will meet tomorrow and what they will know that I might choose to learn.

8. Magi, the yellow cat, is one of the funniest guys I've yet met. I swear he could do stand up.

9. If you add maple syrup to turkey and bake, it tastes just like ham.

10. If Mother Goose could have upgraded to a designer shoe house, I wonder if she would have?

Friday is for fighting

It's a soft morning after some pretty savage storms. Living on a mountain, I don't really worry about tornadoes (we used to live in Michigan when I was a young girl, so I've seen tornadoes) but the lightening was making strange sounds and the rain was beating at the roof like an angry acupuncturist (do those folks get angry?)

I love soft mornings. The way the wind feels. The green of the grass still wet, still happy to have survived Mother Nature's wipeout.

My office mate headed to the sea last evening. She deserves it SO MUCH, but man am I jealous! The ocean always brings me balance, and although I don't feel so very out of whack, I could use a tune up. I'll go at Christmas, I always do. It starts me out right for the new year.

Found out yesterday that if you are an asshole and a Chef, you can cuss the president of the company out and still keep your job. They probably even offered him more money, more perks. And I've been saying for months, this guy will never stay. Yet, they hold on to the hope of him like it might become a reality. All I know is that if I pulled that mess, I'd be on the sidewalk before you could say dumbass. Sorry to be mean...but it's a situation that grates my last nerve, and it will be meeting me at the door bright and early this morning.

That being said, I should shuffle on in that direction.

Una Bicycla & Mi Amor

Oh! And I still love him.

I had just barely walked through the door from two miles on the bike and it began to rain. I think the big guy was watching out for me, or the girl...could be either. It's a soft rain, bringing cool breezes through the upstairs window. The spotted dog is more out of breath than me (which is amazing, because I didn't think one could stand upright and be more out of breath than me) so I suspect he had one of his anxiety attacks while I was away. For some reason, he still believes that I will leave him...like some stupid farmer left him in a barn when he was tiny and all alone. I cannot convince him otherwise, no matter how much love I give. Some of us are just broken, and there's naught to be done about it....just pour more love on 'em.

It appears to be trying to storm...which I LOVE, but my computer may not. So, I will shut down for now and check back later. Ciao!

(She cringes.)

I thought this morning that what matters is what's on the inside. I said it over and over in my head, letting it churn up what it would. I read once that sometimes the mind is like this giant bodyguard that won't let you get at the core of things that you want to or feel ready to get to. And it seemed like I ran into that exact sentiment here. Because as the thought swelled up in me, and I began to realize its full intention, walls closed around it and left me alone looking at a box that wouldn't open or reveal its secrets to me.

It's not the easiest answer. It feels like one, because we all hate the way we are on the outside, well not all of us, but a lot of us. The reality is that the inside may be the eternal blocker no matter what the outside modifies itself to be. And I glimpsed that this morning. Just as I felt a breath of relief, the next idea was that this was so much more difficult.

I'm not simple. I long for it. I concentrate on the way the sunset looks reflected off my window and onto the picture frame in the living room. I think about light and speed and all sorts of things that I can't comprehend which make that occurance happen for me. It seems simple, the noticing, the occurance itself...but in reality, none of it is really simple. Light and reflections are processes. Giving my attention to something takes intention. None of it just happens, and yet it does.

I find that opening my life up, even a little bit, looking at the lives of others, it always leads to questions. I wonder if I am in the right place at the right time and what is next for me. I don't have so much faith in the process. I do think it's my responsibility to figure it out. Eddie said a lot about God and religion and the energy that we all have within. It's a load of responsibility to take away the sheep's path, to put the pursuit of a quality life in your own hands, to stop thinking about fate and destiny as road signs on your way through life's journey. I took up those thoughts and keep shifting them around to see what they taste like in the end. Am I doing the best I can with what I've got? It's the right question, but it's put me in a strange thinking place. That's okay I guess, harmony is always fleeting.

It was the first day back at work after 5 away, and that is always a headache. It seems that everything blew up while I was out and I had to hear about it. Plus, the usual catch up on all daily tasks piled up into one small monster. There's guilt there, no matter how hard I try to push it off. I feel terrible being away while others are there working. I know there's medication for that, and I should probably try it.

I hope to have a better post tomorrow. Definitely thought of trashing this one, but we all have these kind of days sometimes. Not to mention that I opened a 2001 Pinot (what am I thinking keeping a Pinot that long???) and of course, it was terrible, but I drank it anyway. Well, a glass. But, still too much. There's enough great wine in the world (in my cabinet!) to never have a soured glass. It just felt like the perfect ending to my day.

Good God, I'll stop now. I swear it.

On the (Concord) Road

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..." Jack Kerouac On the Road

Leslie and Trinity looking too hip and cool.

Trinity and me...Leslie says we must brood and so we are...broodish.

Leslie and Trinity with pre-dinner wine and Coke.

French ONion soup by Leslie and sugar dusted brownies from Wal-mart...the perfect beginning and ending to another lovely evening with a new generation theme.

A-Loof

If you think about it, just the word is a bit curious, preposterous or otherwise ungangly. I started the week talking about Eddie (let's do still talk about Eddie by the way...offer anything, I am game!) talking about Americans being aloof. I am drawn to this concept because I consider myself quite aloof...and I don' like it at all. However, it is a difficult thing to break out from being and I tend to stay that way year after year even though I feel like I am tearing walls down inside. I don't engage easily, and sometimes I can even say that I dread engagement. That terrible moment when I am expected to say something, reveal my thoughts or just speak out loud.

I believe that's because I feel so different from everyone around me. But, let's face it folks, we are all human. And as much as we might not get one another sometimes, we all deserve a space. I've worked YEARS to get that one for myself, and it's been totally worth it to near the big 40 and suspect that I finally deserve to be here. Now, I think back to the title and think about how sometimes Aloofness partners with Snobbiness or thinking one is better than others. I would not mean for it to have that connection here, as I have yet to meet the person that I am better than at ANYTHING, much less everything or most things. I mean aloof in that quiet, stand back kind of way. Saying only what must be said, disengaged and seperate as a chosen stance. I don't like it in me. Mainly because it alludes to fear and fear is something I will not tolerate within myself anymore. There's been plenty of good reason for it, but it's now my time and I won't have it. I want to love and appreciate people the way that they deserve to be, and I want to give the world what it should get from me. And I fear that by standing back and not engaging...not only do I fail to do that, but I may be missing a fairly good time.

I am a watcher. It may be that I can't move too far from that box, but I hate boxes, so that's another reason to grow into the next evolution of me. It's funny how every way you try to protect yourself from movement in a better direction, sounds stupid when you write it down. I cannot just "roll on up in there" as my friend Trinity would say. I can try more, and give more and try to be less selfish in my life. I can definitely love more and therefore be more...and I do think all that comes back to you twofold.

Just some thoughts on a Tuesday. I had dinner with my friend Angela last night, delivered the Eddie t-shirt, and she gets so thrilled over books, movies and the simplicities of life. I left there knowing that there are so many ways to be happy and once you are, it is so easy to share it or pass it around. That was, I guess, my Cinco De Mayo gift from the universe...coupled with margaritas of course.

Farmers' Market in Arlington

A carefully chosen handful of these beauties for Jane. She will turn them into poetic black and white photos or colors bent by the afternoon sun of a warmed window.

Aren't these jazzy gorgeous??? I so wanted to buy some, but couldn't make them suffer the hot trip home with me. I imagine the tiny nuances of flavor found in each shade, and the fresh infancy of their sweetness.

Each tent was so beautifully set up. These folks really have their act together. I bought amazing Kalamata bread. Just had two pieces toasted for breakfast. Also bought the most fabulous cookies from a cookie maker who lets you sample every flavor! How decadent is that?

I bought a beautiful charm at a jewelry place that Jane loves. Really nice people all over the place and they all loved Jane. It was a sweet wandering.

Moondance

Sometimes it is that which is most in contrast to your idea/path/story/soul (fill in your own blank here) that reveals more clearly who are you are by showing you what you are not. I always think it's funny that the very sharpest lessons are taught by the simplest message.

Eddie Izzard (and we may be talking about him all week long, because as I have previously mentioned I am in my "after" crush phase and that will take a bit to wear off) said the he hoped Europeans would someday travel to the moon. He said that when Americans stepped onto the moon, everything was very calm, very rational and somewhat boring. And that if the English stepped onto the moon, they would be dancing, running, looking for monsters, making a joyful noise. And I thought how for years I had felt like America was the rowdy child and everyone else made good sense. But, when he said this, the way he said it...I thought that America is the child who doesn't make sense and acts aloof about the whole thing. While some of the rest of the world hams it up a bit, gets wise about taking themselves too seriously, and says boo to our aloof-ness.

I want to go back and read to see if this is making sense, but I won't let myself yet...there are too many things in my head. Edit later (if I remember!).

Not knowing everything is one of my favorite things about life. Believing in absurd consequences is also one of my favorite things. Being sure that each person that I run into has a message especially for me is one of the most magical things about running the rat race. Sometimes you get it quickly, and sometimes I believe it spans years of time. But, even when they don't know it, people teach me the most amazing things. What is great about that is that I can do with it what I'd like. Absorb or refract.

It felt good to be in the city. And Washington is full of nice folks. I actually stayed in Arlington which is like a lovely old town where things are happening and life is a-buzz. I ate at the best Mexican restaurant and had two lovely pomengranate margaritas (what a combination of health juice and tequila madness) and Ceviche. I never order this soup unless I am confident in my surroundings, because if it doesn't taste fresh and if the seafood isn't firm and salty buttery it could be the worst thing I'd eat all year. But, my friend made me confident and I ordered it and I was ever so delighted with it.

I left there a bit caught up. Cities always rev my mental engine. I think of possibility, probability and potential journeys that the every moment there might offer me. And it takes me a bit to come down from that high thought. It makes me want to be someone that I am not...just a tiny bit. I want to be the girl who runs to and fro in her high heels and houndstooth skirt. I want to be having 5 o'clock drinks with a social network that challenges and gets me. I want to breathe the night air of taxi's rushing by my sidewalk, and hear the happy voices of couples exiting a bar. But, I leave it exhausted, and knowing that I am not at that place anymore. I would hunker down in my too expensive apartment. I would become wary of humanity and traffic and rudeness and carelessness and I wouldn't visit the museums because it would be so easy. I wouldn't meet friends after work because I would need to find quiet somehow, desperately. I would not learn the things I am passionate about learning in this lifetime.

It is this place that makes me feel lucky to have visited that one. And this place that gives me the strength to look into rather than over people. It is the quiet that I share here with the dog and the two cats and the rabbit that makes that trip out for Ceviche on a Saturday night so special and alive. There is no this without that.

What about us makes the view so moderate? Where's the heart of America these days? I can tell you this much for certain, if I ever make it to the moon I'll definitely be dancing with Eddie. I'm just that kinda girl.

S T R I P P E D !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There are so many thoughts in my head about the weekend, that I feel this will be an unraveling of sorts and different realizations or thoughts will come out as the week goes along. What I want to be sure and say clearly and first thing is that if you get the opportunity to see this show live...DO IT! It was fabulous. Eddie was so so so so so so SOOOOOOOOOOO gorgeous in person. He wore jeans and great shoes, a grey t-shirt and a jacket with long black lapels in the back. B E A U T I F U L. And my friend Kari says that I need help for this, but he could wear whatever women's wear he wanted to and I'd never kick him outta bed. He was smokin'! Good review from the Boston show here.

His agenda this time was religion...and the show was so tight that I can think of very few times I wasn't laughing loudly. It definitely gives Dressed to Kill some tough competition. And it's the only other show of his that I would classify that way. HOnestly, I couldn't tell you which show I enjoyed more out of the two.

If you get the chance, go see him...I would pay the money all over again right now. He was fantastic and better than I thought he even could be in person. This is the top of the tour...first stop was Boston. He's in NYC in June. Do it, I swear you will love it!

More later, I need to unpack and get settled home.

Just one more thing before I go then...

CAke or Death?

Ciao!