Dirt Road Ponderings

Half-remembered Wisdoms

2009-04-06T21:07:00.004-04:00

My cat, Banjo is getting a bit long in the tooth. Don't get me wrong...she walks the walk and talks the talk and looks good for her age and acts like a young chick until you peeve her. She's just closing in on 10 years oldish and she's slowing down a bit here and there. I adopted a young fella about one and a half years ago, named him Magi. He is a fit! Oh my gosh...so much energy, play, aggression, force of personality...and he's gorgeous! Long apricot hair and big green eyes...it doesn't get much more handsome than Magpie (my nickname for him). I didn't know if she would love him or not...I hoped she would, but he was in a sad state and needed a home, so I took my chances.

I think they get along. At times I thought she fancied him. And now and then, I think she barely tolerates him at all. So, about 6 months ago, an old tom cat starts coming around the place. At first he's mean, taking food being a monster. And at some point, a few months back, I think he decided to be part of the family. HIs whole demeanor changed and he started hanging back to let the other cats eat, even let them beat up on him sometimes. Looks pitifully at me like he wants me to include him in my kitty conversations or pet him, love him a bit here and there. I don't...I feel like we walk that narrow line where if he gets me, he'll be mean to them again. So no me, and the balance seems to remain intact. Now, we have three bowls for food outside and each bowl gets food twice a day. I don't run him off, although the spotted dog would.

And one day, I noticed Banjo touching noses with him! A love affair? I am uncertain. But, he has defended her on a couple occasions against the bruiser play of the Magpie. They lay together on the red blanket sometimes and today, they both came back with burrs! Scandal, I surmise.

It just goes to prove that love is an unexplainable occurance. And just as I wonder how we form those attractions in life -what are they based on? Some chemical shift? The caught eye? The pheremone scents we detect but don't know about? I'm not sure. God knows I have questioned my own crushes of late. Thinking I was on the right track, and then thinking I've been so mislead (by me, not someone else). I wonder if someone is out there for all of us? And I think about the scarred up tomcat that replaced my apricot beauty in the heart of fair Banjo.

And I know, that no matter how you try to plan for it, you just never know when the right cat will come along....

Ain't No Love

2009-04-02T21:32:00.003-04:00

what I keep listening to over and over is this song by DAvid Gray. Who, I believe is marvelous. Years ago, my friend Tracy turned me on to him and ever since I have been loving the words that come out of his mouth, the melodies that accompany his genius.

"Some days I'm bursting at the seams with all my half remembered dreams,
and then it shoots me down again.
....
This ain't no love that's guiding me."

It makes me think about how many times in a day I veer off path. If the path is love, I don't always choose it. I want it, dream about it, think for hours about it, but do not follow it's lesson - the nuances of being open to everything, everyone, all there is. I live in fear too often and even when I think my goal is clear...I am lost anyway.

No, there ain't no love guiding me.

Funkytown

2009-03-27T19:24:00.002-04:00

"Won't you take me to...Funkytown?"

Trust me when I say that the funk I have been in for the past few days, you don't want to visit. Even though the place sounds kinda kinky kool...it was the pits. And I am slithering out as any slimey thing does when tossed off its feet and forced to move without limbs. I am trying to plow through my 1.5 liters of water...and I realize that I don't drink as much as I used to. The good stuff I mean, just liquids. But, I have a headache and the books say drink water...so I am. And that is good. But, difficult. I"m thirsty but not that thirsty.

I am just one of those souls that swims merrily along until I hit a jag and then I go diving into the deepest pit and feel like everything is over, even when it's just Thursday and the world seems to be plugging along. I don't weather it well when I fall off the jolly wagon. And I was a mess yesterday. Today I am better in the sense that I either want to cry or slap someone. So, just a tad bit emotional. Not normally an overly emotional person. Sensitive yes...emotional no. But yesterday, I was like a spigot and today I am either that or a bit combustive.

Isn't it funny how we can't always be who we want to be no matter how hard we try? And isn't it odd how the good of life so necessarily needs the bad? I'm still messy...but it's definitely a better day. Tomorrow, possibly the best one yet (see there's a little hope for you :)

Mechanic(s)

2009-03-24T20:58:00.004-04:00

How do I write a love letter to you?

When you don't see me. Won't know me. Look so far into me that I can't breathe. Hesitate by the doorway waiting for me to say something perfect. Imperfect. God, I don't know.

Why do I feel like I know you when I don't know you? And why does it feel like home when you are close to me, yet we are just becoming friends?

What are you thinking, calm cool collected? Why are you watching sunsets without me? Do you know how much I want to know the things about you? Not everything. Not ever everything. Just some things. Something insignificant that not many others know. Something elementary like the way your heart sounds against my ear.

This is so hard. So difficult. And sometimes you look at me and I see it. You. A stray thought about this or that connecting thread. Other times, you just don't look and I can't understand how you stay away.

It's not love. It's not love. But, it's something real anyway. And I can't figure it out without you.

Two Favorite things I've heard in the past 24 hours

2009-01-03T19:37:00.001-05:00

1. from the movie "Beauty Shop" with Queen Latifah

Queen: "Do these jeans make my butt look big?"
Daughter: "Yes, mama, they do"
Queen: "Gooooooooood!"

2. on the phone with my friend Kari who believes that one should never shop outside high end department stores

Me: 'I got three pairs of shoes with my Cato gift card. They were $8 each!!!'
Kari: "Are...they...(hesitation stop)..........................cute?"

Polenta

2009-01-03T18:50:00.002-05:00

One of my favorite things to make is polenta. If you've never tried it, I believe it's in the grain family...sortof like a grit cake and you slice it...well, I slice it and put it in a baby amount of oil and brown it on both sides. Once it is browned, I put a little wedge of goat cheese on top of one round and then put a round on top of that...like a goat cheese/polenta oreo of sorts. Once this flavor combination meshes, I add some tomato sauce and have a wonderful, not too terrible for me meal. My friend Angie and I made this once for Christmas eve dinner...she the vegetarian came up with the fabulous recipe and I have loved it ever since then. Of course, I added a Prince Michel Merlot and some cracked Italian ripe olives (cracked open, not crazy:) to round off my dinner offering. I love it and feel full afterwards, but not too full.

My point with Polenta is this...it is so very bland by itself that I don't think anyone would bother with it. But, if you add the right stuff, it becomes a splendid meal. After the New Year, I am feeling flat - which is way better than under the tire and not quite as good as giddy. What I am learning is that this new lease on life...the suspended notion of magic, can be seasoned to resemble something close to it. Whatever I believe or don't believe, the world spins on and not carelessy necessarily. Probably carefully as it has forever. My stepping off onto a new path will not disrupt the universe as we know it. It will not stop the magic. It might only save my heart.

New Year coming

2008-12-31T11:34:00.002-05:00

Well, I've almost made it through another holiday without committing suicide. And if you think I am being flip here and making fun of something most serious...I assure you that I am not. It is a constant thought throughout the holidays and I do everything but tie myself down to keep it from happening. There are many people that would be confused about it for years, forever and I can't do that to them. It's also a terribly selfish act and I can't imagine going out that way. I want something natural to happen, it's just not occurring soon enough.

And here's the problem with me...I am a believer. I believe in magic. And I have NOT had a life that is conducive to that notion. If anything, I have had a life that would lead one to believe there's nothing to this world, or energy or existence. Instead, by some unknown benefactor, I got this belief in good, and hope and magic. But, here's the thing...it doesn't ever work out for me. Not ever. And so, as I packed up my Christmas decorations (why am I doing this to be like every other sweet family in the country, while I most certainly am not) I decided to become a non-believer. And at the same time realized that I would not know myself at all that way. But, is that a very bad thing?

I'm tired of being heartbroken. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of not waiting, just working my ass off to make it happen. I'm tired of thinking it will happen if I am enough. I'm never going to be enough.

I suppose that a non-believer lives a pretty flat life. Knowing only that the road is there, but not whether it might rise up to greet you. Knowing the moon is full, but not that some spirit lives there smiling down on us. Seeing that the grass is green, but not listening for its whisper of springtime or passing crowds of ants and bugs. I suppose that a non-believer just doesn't believe and only knows what's right there. And a non-believer doesn't live in her head, but just with what is right there. No possibility, but rather probability to the negative sort.

All this makes me sad of course. I don't know how to live this way. But, I think I am going to find out. YOu might even consider me resolved to it.

It's December!

2008-12-11T19:53:00.002-05:00

It's almost Christmas and I just planned a trip to Vegas. January is really the only month that I can travel now that I'll be travelling for work most of the year. It's been a seven day work week and I am bombed...so tired that everything looks muddy. Well, the rain isn't helping. But, we need it...and I'm all for it. But, my mood is bleak.

I decided on the holiday wish. The one I do every year. It's kindof funny how it happens. Each year around October, I plant the seed of Christmas wish. If I have had a difficult, hard, teary-eyed year, then the idea that brings me peace, hope, solace is the one I will choose. However, if I have had a decent year, meaning I worked hard at change and feel like I kicked old habit's butt...then I choose what scares me most. So, October went by and the only nudge of an idea I got was "love". (Not surprising I am sure.) But, I thought that I wished for love three years ago and my dog died, and I found love and acceptance around me. So, I know I have love. What do I really want? So, that narrowed it a bit, and what came next was "romantic love" and that felt like hearts and butterflies...not scary really at all. So, I sat with that for a bit. And what came next made my stomach clench it was so scary.

Intimacy.

And when I shared this with my spiritual group...the men of course went into every sex innuendo they could muster. But, I don't mean that. I mean I do, but I don't. I mean feeling safe with someone knowing me in a lot of ways rather than just the ones that I allow. I don't feel safe with people in general, men in specific. So, usually relationships get one part of me. The physical girl or the mental one. I want all of it. It terrifies me.

It's my Christmas wish.

Let the chips fall where they may. When I choose scary, I usually get it in big heart wrenching ways. I think I can handle it. I hope so.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2008-11-27T17:31:00.002-05:00

Well...you know how I am about fortune cookies. And it's the holidays, so I am especially devastated. I know, I know...do something about it. However, my do-something button is out of whack this year. So, I woke up and cried. Then, I cooked. I ate. I washed dishes. I took comfort in the fact that other people were having to wash way more dishes than me. Then, I walked the dog and now I am getting ready to head to the town of Mayberry to watch OO7 with Angela and Brack. I was invited other places, I don't want you to think that I don't have absolutely fabulous people in my life. But, I just want my own person..you know? And I am tired of not having that...and I know I will feel more lonely in the crowd of someone's family stuff than I do being right here. But, I still feel pretty crummy. And thank God Daniel Craig is so gorgeous that he will make me forget everything but his hotness for two hours. Brack may kill us...Angela and I went on our own last year and I think we both gasped at all the same parts.

Anyway...you want to know, don't you? I passed the cabinet and thought that I am just a tiny bit hungry and since there was no pie in this place today...it is my sweet tooth that came calling. So, I opened the cabinet and there sat the bright pink box and I thought, what the hell? I'll see what it has to say. So, I chose the cookie on top, pulled out the little white slip, and this is what it said...

You have so much to be thankful for.

Right here on Thanksgiving day. It's that kinda thing that makes me believe in magic.

Again

2008-10-05T15:28:00.002-04:00

I am.

The thing is that what passes for okay really isn't.

So, there are times when I don't know what is happening.

Times when it seems like God is throwing me curve balls...one, two, ten all at the same time.

I feel settled and unsettled.

Yesterday I had a moment. At Walmart. Complete chaos...cars, people, children, tents, buggies, strollers, craziness. And I walked out into it and it all stopped for one moment and it was like a got a push on my left side. NOt a rough push (and there wasn't a push) but a nudge that said "look this way!!" and so I did. And there he was...in a town that isn't our town. And how I saw him in all that, I just don't know.

But, the nudge is what interests me. Where does that come from? I believe it's energy...but is it my energy tuned into him and therefore engaging me? Or is it our energy bumping into each other and saying "wake up!"

I know it all sounds crazy. But, I get settled into an idea and then something like this happens and I get all unsettled again.

It shouldn't, but it does.

Who is he in my stupid life anyway? Here for what reason or duration? I just don't know and I want to know.

Then, again, they say that you can find everything at Walmart.

Pastoral

2008-09-14T14:46:00.003-04:00

I found my jive again. Which is to say that I feel better for the time being. Someone said to me today that we all have our afflictions and that mine seemed to be a social compulsion to think that I can never do enough to deserve relationships with people (not necessarily men...any kind of relationship). And I can buy this about myself. And she went on to say that this is incurable. Which of course, being the growth junkie, I find a difficult thing to swallow.

It's humid here...and we walk and are wet. Although it isn't so hot. It's just steamy. Of course, I won't even talk about my hair...it is a moist mad froth. And since I consider it possibly my only redeeming feature, I HATE THIS.

I've been thinking about a lot of things lately. My mind skipping here and there. I heard a word a couple days ago-Surrender. This word could carry shame, but it doesn't for me. It isn't about losing the battle. It is about giving up before you are defeated. It is about keeping your self-respect. It is about letting go of the fight against impossible odds. It is about giving in to grace. And about harmony in knowing you've handed your wrath to a higher power.

But, it still feels frightening to me. It recommends vulnerability. And I stink at that.

I went to see The Women on Friday night with a group of women (who are amazing and work their hearts out for pet rescues in NC) that I don't hang out with a lot. Which is to say that I know not so much about them, but like what they are about and enjoy my time with them when it happens. After the movie, we were all talking and one of them mentioned a scene in the movie where two friends are angry with one another, then funny and finally crying together. And she said, "that pegs us" meaning the female race. And it isn't my experience. I hang with a different crowd. And that type of emotional outburst isn't really seen by me in the women relationships of my life. I think it is amazing that we are all so different and yet the same. I believe that women feel things, sense things and experience things in a way that no other living thing can. I think we are tuned in to a frequency that is life and we pick up on all the infinite possibility.

This can make for confusion. There is too much to choose from sometimes. But, overall, I wouldn't want to be anyone else, anything else. And I am so thankful for all those women who beat the path for me and took the hard hits to do it. I am thankful for the women who go out every day and make a new path. I feel so blessed to be a woman.

The Austen Tales

2008-09-11T20:49:00.002-04:00

It's the second Thursday of the month and that means it's the evening for Jane. Austen that is, the book club. Tonight was Pride and Prejudice. There were five of us and then six. We talked about Elizabeth and Jane, DArcy and Bingley, dreadful Collins and sweet practical Charlotte. We sat amongst every kind of book and ate tiny onion tarts and later Chocolate Expresso cheesecake. And to be honest, I dreaded going tonight. Because of this funk that is taking me over...slowly step by step. (I won't let it...don't worry!) It's just hopelessness, which seems to be a common acquaintance of mine in the past few months. It comes and goes. I go through some supportive conversations and then I feel great for a while, only to bottom out again and feel like, well hopeless. Anyway, it actually turned out good to be there. I felt disconnected on some level, but I almost always feel that way. The conversation was good. I love hearing other people's thoughts. I like the openness of the group...no one knows it all. We offer ideas and think them through. As with any conversation I am attracted to...there aren't straight answers. More like tiny test tubes of bubbling hypotheses that never become fact. That bubble always with the possibility of what isn't known.

Why then do I live so frantically in not knowing at times? I mean, I adore it. But right now, I want to know...what happens next for me? Live my way into the answers (it's a magnet on my fridge)...forget about it! Is it age? It doesn't feel that way, but it could be. It feels like "dammit! stop jerking me around!!" That's what it feels like. That would be my God statement. And it might horrify some...but me and God have been pretty close for most of my life. So, I consider God my closest friend, and sometimes we argue.

Was it better when life got arranged for you? When you only had a few options? I doubt it. But the muddy pool I've been dealing with lately makes any kind of certainty look appealing. I won't lie about it...I'm looking for a big fat arrow in the sky. Seems lofty, I reckon but if you're going to ask for answers, you may as well shoot for the moon while you're at it. It feels a little crazy, but that's got some energy to it. I'll take a jolt over apathy any day of the week.

The only man I've ever dreamt of marrying was Mr. Darcy. And he would terrify me in real life.

Carved Out

2008-09-10T20:26:00.003-04:00

I love fall. I do. It's the sweet spot in the year for me. I bought the largest pumpkin that I've ever bought yesterday at the market in our tiny town. I paid $4.99, which I love! Last year they were expensive. I never bought one...and looked at them longingly in the fields on my way to and fro. I thought of Linus and sitting out there with them waiting for the Great Pumpkin...because I do believe.

The word of the day has been patience. I have heard it in several sentences. Not always the actual word, but the thought, the idea. For me, patience is equal to and directly related to faith. And I have been "ye of little" for a long time now. I think it happened two years ago, when I finally got up the courage to ask for love in my annual Christmas wish, and two months later lost my dog. I was angry. And I never said it. I just questioned and questioned and questioned. And it began a cycle of questioning that I still live with every day. And I understand the substance of faith is about living without question. Believing in what will be and must happen and can come to pass. But, I felt robbed. And so I set up this pattern of no faith. Or some faith. The truth is that I am lost without it. We all are. But, me, I've lived that way. Through some horrible awful stuff, I marched on because I knew God had a plan for me, and I believed it would be the best plan. Now, I feel forgotten.

I've got some soul-searching to do. And in the meantime, I need to make myself believe just for short instances that we all deserve a little goodness, a bit of reprieve, moments of peace and love...you and me. I'll just have to breathe into it, in out, until it brings some harmony to my chaos.

Tail light

2008-09-07T19:04:00.003-04:00

The dirt road smells of fox grapes. There are cows now to one side and the spotted dog wants so badly to give chase. So, we go zig-zagging down the road daily as big black cows watch us and probably chuckle to themselves. It isn't fair how gorgeous the day was considering how much havoc those hurricanes are causing. But, it was beautiful. And I skipped book club. We were going to talk about the favorite book of recent years (for me) Eat, Pray, Love. And I was so excited about that. But, a whole new crowd. And a "socialized" bunch...and I didn't feel like fitting in. I can. But, didn't want to. Less and less do I want to fit in to where I don't feel I fit. YOu know? I am less tolerant of the groups that cause me to work a lot for inclusion. This is a lovely group, I am sure. I just couldn't make myself do it.

I realized on Saturday that I want to run from my life right now. I want to leave everything...this house on the dirt road, my job that I have loved, the people that surround me daily. I want the next evolution of my life so badly that I would consider leaving all this behind. And that is crazy. I mean, really. Or is it?

Splinter

2008-09-03T22:03:00.003-04:00

A piece of wood caught me in the heel of my thumb a few days ago. Years ago, when I was a child, my dad would have gotten out his pocket knife and dug the splinter out as I shrieked in fear and uncertainty. Now, I am waiting for my body to push it out. Because it will. Foreign substance...it will get spit out of me at some point. I keep my eye on it...waiting.

Same thing goes for this love bug I caught. I am waiting for my soul to spit it out. It's been such a difficult journey. Yes, there are a good many things to have come from it. But, my efforts have gone unrewarded and that stinks. There's no other way to say it. In time, could my crush come around? Yes, I suppose so. But, it's hurting me and I have to decide when to stop that. When to get the pocket knife and dig that ache out of me.

Like the wood in my thumb, I wait for it to be purged by natural instincts. And maybe that will happen. I know the splinter will leave my thumb, because I have experienced this before. And I know that the infatuation will fade. Patiently, I look for progress in that direction. But, it seems like the more I watch, the more the piece of wood settles in-no longer puckered red, but seeming to be a part of me. Same as the crazy infatuation that travels each day with me. Not boiling over, and yet never steaming away to thin air.

I'm learning to live with both of them in the interim. Or I think I must be. Sometimes it feels like I'm just breathing through it. And maybe that's the best I can hope for at the moment.

Mail Check

2008-09-02T21:24:00.002-04:00

I've been chasing the moon tonight. I saw it as I was driving home from TND, and then I went out on foot to find it. But, it was hiding and I never did find it. The stars were good company. I am tempted to drive. Tempted to be Wild. Not yet at the driving stage (which is Wild-Stage Center), I am doing the next best thing...which is techno dance music as loud as I can stand it (or what won't encourage the neighbors to visit me). This is soothing because i love it...love to dance, love the beat, love the non-thinking that it brings about in me.

There was a note in a mailbox SOMEWHERE today, and that's what has me a bit wild. I love mail...I just hope everyone else does. Again, I must protect the innocent (namely me) and keep mum on the details. But, it's the postal system that has me all aflutter today. Do you check your mail daily? I do, when I know it's bill time. But, in between, sometimes I let it go a day or two.

The stamp had a small man carrying a big heart.

Bird on a Wire

2008-08-27T22:04:00.004-04:00

I was almost trapped overnight in the mall tonight. And after reading "Cordouroy" (as a child long ago) the story of a stuffed bear left in a department store overnight, I have at times wished to be left overnight to the temptations of a mall. But, at close to age 40, it doesn't hold the charm that it once did. For one, I realize that I would be expected to pay for anything that I used or consumed and I couldn't (have you checked prices in the mall lately?) and for the other, I like getting home to the spotted dog, crazy cats and a nice warm shower. It was a dressing room door that just came apart, in a store that had music blaring and I literally had to scream HELP several times to get anyone's attention. And then, of course, they appeared to think that I might be the lunatic. A knob in the hand though, proves my point and I went on my merry way.

It occurred to me as I stood there contemplating my long night in the mall behind that broken door, that I have been letting myself get stuck a lot lately. Stuck in the old ideas about me. Stuck with the old records of who I am. And I don't believe in them anymore...so why am I listening? I think because it's easier. I think because I know I can have what I want (maybe not when I want it, or who I want it to be, or how I want it to come about) but I do have power, and I am choosing to deny that. Which, frankly, after all the years of work I have done, pisses me off. So, I decided (at the same time I chose to start screaming rather than just wishing to get out) that I will have to do a daily mental sticky note, proclaiming my independence from old verbage that doesn't work for me anymore. Stating the fact that I ain't who I once was, and won't be again. Not because that was bad, but because I've moved past it. And as comforting as that hellish place feels, I'll spend my life stuck in the wrong place if I keep subscribing to it.

Of course, there's a good deal of relief when the door opens setting you free to your new destination, but as all truly sensory people do...I hesitate at the threshold for a bit to feel the sway in either direction.

Good God...

2008-08-26T21:38:00.001-04:00

how can one girl be so stupid?

is all I have to say.

this vulnerability thing SUCKS

2008-08-25T21:16:00.003-04:00

I've been driving...which is what I do when I am "wild" (the definition of wild here is that place where you cannot be still or you will crash...movement is necessary...I suppose it is flight, but on a measured scale), so I've been driving. And driving. For about an hour.

And I passed over a place in the road where four years ago, I used to walk with my black lab mix Roxy at 5:30am every morning. It was a 1.5 mile stretch...meaning we ended up doing three, usually in the dark. Mylifewassimplerthen. And as I passed over that stretch, I wanted to step back into those wee hours with my dear (now passed) friend and feel what it was like to not hurt over every little thing. The way I am doing right now.

And it's crazy. It's crazy to be so overly sensitive. Crazy. But, I am the owner of crazy at this stage in the game and like it or lump it, it's where I am at. So, tonight, I am sad...because my mad crush passed me on his bike with a girl on back. And my friend argues, it could have been family (which along with a few details I am leaving out, makes good sense). And yes, of course. But, sensitive girl that I am, overly sensitive CRAZY girl that I am...I feel wild about this possibility of it being a "girl" unrelated to him, and so I've had to drive.

Why? Because I really see something there...in him. And I don't know if he'll share it with anyone, least of all me. But, I can't seem to let go of it. And everything hurts. EVERYTHING hurts. And this is so new for me. Because I've always KNOWN that nothing was for me in this world and once you begin to think that something might be for you in this world, you introduce pain into your small universe. And it just nibbles at you from all angles. Not believing, although hopeless, feels numb. I was tired of numb, so now I've gone and got everything. And I feel like some living thing (I know not what to call it, but someone smarter will) that has way too many tentacles on its body and takes in so much information that it cannot possibly digest it, so it stays over-stimulated and a bit raw on its ends.

This too shall pass. I know you are saying it. I know it is true. However, the interim is quite excruciating.

Almost fall

2008-08-24T20:48:00.003-04:00

An hour ago I had tomato basil soup. It's been in the plan all day since I picked tomatoes at the weed garden :) but it just came to fruition after two long walks and a trip to Wal-mart for heavy cream. It was wonderful, a chunk of toasted baguette to go along and a couple peaches for the tasty conclusion.

Now the laundry lays on the bed...quietly boasting that I cannot go to sleep until I fold it and put it away.

The apple tree on Squirrel Spur road smells so fabulous. And there was a bit of alfalfa mowing going on today that I passed and felt that fresh sweet grass swirl about me. There was a black and white spotted dog sitting in a parked bright orange truck...and he just looked at us as we passed. Never offering to greet or growl. Patient easy rider. Bentley went pulling crazy as per the norm, but we carried on and got safely past and settled into a comfortable pace.

I was reading my Health magazine last night and I was astounded by the "girl of the week" who walks/runs thirty miles per week. I am always amazed by other people's stuff, always thinking how much better they are than me. And it occurred to me (this nibbling truth in my subconscious) that every week, I walk/run at least 42 miles and sometimes closer to 50. And I had to sit still for a minute. Me? I AM that girl. I AM even more than that girl.

The slow journey to belief in self gets some light here and there. I feel like it's been a tough past few months. Opening new doors, finding out great things and feeling sometimes terrible. I haven't been sharing it, because it feels so fragile. I need to believe in magic and so few of us do. I need the support of true believers and that is difficult to find. So, in my silence I find a bit of quiet magic and try to learn to self-support...until I feel strong enough to look for it in new places.

One incredibly wonderful thing happened in the past week or so...but it's a small part in what I hope is someday a bigger story. I will definitely write it down, once a couple more chapters become clear.

Exhaustion and Embracing thoughts

2008-07-10T22:41:00.003-04:00

Everyone is imperfect, right?

Is that what gives us peace?

I have been sick for days.

18 dogs.

3 cats.

Two back to back festivals.

And a neck that hurt so badly.

My friend Tiffany told me today that she asked her sister, who is prayerful and "gets heard", to pray for me and love. How sweet and gentle was that?

And why, when someone chooses you out of a whole universe of people, to treat in such a rare beautiful way...do I just swirl around thinking, "I'm not worthy"?

I miss everyone.

I am just so busy.

Good night, then. I will put a prayer in my basket for love for all of you.

Monday Monday

2008-06-30T21:17:00.002-04:00

fa la lalalala.

not really. Yes, Monday. Not falalalala anything about it. We lost our chef yesterday. Which is to say many good things and just a few scary ones. But, that's work and time away from work should be just that.

So, what else? We set off on our after work walk, and got caught in a storm. So, we ran back to Leslie's with HUGE drops falling on us. And I'll be honest, it was kindof delightful in that way that rain can be delightful when you don't care what you look like. When you are done with the day as a social have-to-be and you can just be wet and go home and not worry. That kindof delightful. Plus it was warm, so the rain felt like a cool battering of water and it was nice. REally.

We spent time with Leslie and Lavita at the store. And although I just meant to stop for rain-cover, it actually ended up being somewhat cozy and we talked girl talk and laughed a lot. I enjoyed it. And sat there at one point thinking that I will remember this. My whole life has been that way. There are times when everything inside of me stills and I think how I will remember everything about those moments - what the air was like, what color the books made the light seem, how the spotted dog laid behind us on the floor, how Lavita's eyes crinkle when she laughs, or the way Leslie gets all concerned-serious about Jolly and the truck. It's the oddest times that hold those spots for me. I remember in high school once, walking down the hallway between classes and it hit me...I will always remember this moment. And I do, the stale hallway, the teacher's voices, the kids murmur or laughter, my footsteps down the long hallway, office announcements crossing the intercom. I felt like I was taking a walk through my life. And I knew it. Today, this evening, I felt like I was sitting in my life. And I knew it.

I love it when that happens. I wish it happened more often. I believe it may be called presence, and I long for it always. Because it reeks of harmony. And I believe harmony to be supreme living. Disciplined supreme living. And I'll get there. One of these days.

Quiet Saturday

2008-06-28T21:28:00.004-04:00

Yesterday I came home from a HOT day packing grease into the wheel barings of two wagons (with dad of course) and turned the cold water on in the claw foot tub and put myself into it. There is never an ailment that a bath cannot remedy in my book. Yet, I am the worst to take one. A shower girl to the core - the efficiency of it works for me. But, I have bath friends, Angie who loves a bath like no one else I know, and Leslie who always chooses a bath over a shower. LEslie seems like a bath girl though, she is a bit luxurious without being the least bit airy. I never take them, but when I do...I feel so amazing. And the cold bath after a hot, greasy, dusty day was way more than the doctor ordered.

Today I headed to Wytheville to see the dad early. The stepmonster is away, so I said, "I'm coming to see you, dad!" and I did. We picked cherries (I have pictures, but not yet downloaded) and ate cherries until my fingernails and blue jeans were stained purple. We washed my car and cleaned it up all over - dad is the typical car fanatic. Then, we worked a bit in his garden (which I also have photos of...it is gorgeous!) And then, all of a sudden, it was time to leave. He had to take his two step-grandchildren for a golf lesson with my brother at 3pm. It was a great day. I wish there were more of them...without the "SM". She's a real pill...I'm not a'lyin'.

I brought broccoli, potatoes and onions home. So, I made a broccoli soup...which I like and had some of for dinner. Late dinner, so I was going to just walk. But, then decided to run anyhow...and other than a few minor stomach cramps, I enjoyed it. Did the cool down walk with the STones, "Wild Horses" which I really think is the song of all songs. Love that one.

Nothing else...my friend Trinity called from NYC. He's there for work, and I was jealous. NOt because I do not love it here. But, because I also love it there. Not to live, but to visit...very much. I should have told him to bring me some bagels. Dammit, I forgot!

Morning Musing

2008-06-26T07:05:00.002-04:00

I made a trip to the sporting goods store for festival coolers yesterday and while I was walking through the mall, I passed a jewelry store. The kind that displays diamonds, diamonds, diamonds. And I thought how I have only once been to that counter - with my best friend's now husband to look at the ring he had picked out for proposal. But, I have never been there to look for my own ring. I've never even considered it. And this could be two-fold. The outside layer would be that I am all about getting a deal, so I shop for clothes at Ross or TJMaxx rather than Belk or Macy's. So, I would probably never shop a jewelry store for a diamond, but then I really don't know where else you'd find them. Unless it was a pawn shop, which might not be as romantic?

The second layer, the core of it, is that I was taught to believe that no one would ever want me. Much less want to marry me. That is so far off my idea of this life that just writing it "marry me" sounds absurd.

And this caused me to wonder if you have to entertain even the broadest dreams to begin to make the smallest advances? I almost stepped up to the counter, but it felt crazy. And I was certain that the staff would come out laughing and asking what I was thinking. So, I will wait for a busier day, and sneak up on the side to just put that on my list of done deeds. I still have a lot of work to do to banish the voice in my head, branded into me very long ago. I realize this at the oddest times, but at least I am becoming more aware.

Wed nes day

2008-06-25T21:22:00.002-04:00

I am waiting for the sweat to dry in my hair so I can wash it. I don't know if everyone is like this but if I wash when it is wet the amount of frizz multiplies by 200. And I can't handle more frizz.

The moving still seems to be my mode of healing. Tonight was a walk night, but we ended up running. And it felt good. I haven't been riding the bike as much. I am having a seat problem and probably need to ask dad for help. He is one of those men who knows how to do everything. There are not men like that anymore...have you noticed this? He is also one of those men who watches out for you as a woman, "don't lift that, I'll get it". Now I know this can be frustrating. But, I am around men every day that will let me work myself into the ground and barely do what they are supposed to do themselves, much less lend a hand. So, I enjoy that in my dad. Plus, I am no small potato, so I don't get too many people who think I can't handle a heavy load. I'm built for it, but sometimes I want to feel girl-y. And my dad makes me feel that way. I know a lot of petite women who will go through you if you try to help them, or think them weak. So, I think it's all about where you are coming from. Which is to say that while I enjoy it, many would not...so don't use me for your defense if you get told off.

Today has felt sorta hectic. I think that's mostly work. But, I find myself at 9:30 thinking where did the day go???

It's time for a shower. I know this hasn't been breath-taking, but I'm just trying to get back into the groove.

Dirt Road

2008-06-23T21:41:00.003-04:00

I looked up through the tall green trees at the blue evening sky and said tonight, "you do know that I am thankful God, don't you?" Because there are a great many things to be thankful for, and even in my glumness, I do realize that. Below the mush, there is that rationale. I think that sometimes your heart hurts so much that the only way to block it is to keep moving. It's not a work myself to death type moving. It feels more personal than that. It's like movement - in a car, on a bike, in running shoes, on bare feet, over a road or meadow or stream. That's what gives me comfort. And being alone. I crave that time when I can just be with the movement. No thoughts really. No plans. And just moving. Am I running? (For two miles, yes) But, you know what I mean. I think I might be. It feels though, somewhat ambitious rather than flee-ful. Maybe that's just my justification.

Regardless, I can't seem to think in words. I opened a door that had been shut for a long long time. And now I need to close it, without nailing it shut. I need to fasten it, without glueing the hinges. And that causes me mild confusion. On the other hand, I have been paying attention to my actions, and wonder how far the door was open in the first place. Plenty wide for me, but would anyone else notice? I am still the girl who looks down instead of at. And even when given the opportunity to change that, I slide into that old comfortable invisible position.

We walk again after we run - the spotted dog and I. To cool down. To listen to "Landslide" by Stevie Nicks. To turn backwards and see the dirt road curving up the hill behind us. And I know what I love about this place where I am.

For right now, it belongs to me.

Amber

2008-06-20T21:32:00.002-04:00

I've been awfully silent, haven't I? One post this week and it's Friday! Good grief, aren't I full of myself??? It was a hard week at work, and I won't go into that. It just was. Tonight, I nearly had my shag bathroom rugs stolen from the laundr-o-mat because I left them alone too long. Thank goodness, a gallant young man came to my defense and saved them from the thief. (For you, Leslie, it was TErry - first time he has spoken to me in YEARS). I've been an exercise fanatic, totaling up to 6 miles per day between walking, biking and running. The dog is even giving out on me. It does make me feel better though. As though I am accomplishing something.

I don't love my job right now. And I should. I am very worried about that fact. It will be ignored because there is no time to think about it, I am at the wire. And this bird can't be sitting. I wish I didn't feel this way and think it is most likely a culmination of "will I ever meet someone here to have a relationship with?", "can I make a good life for myself here if I am alone?" and "the powers that be are REALLY PISSING ME OFF". So, back burner. I am ignoring the complete DREAD that comes from even considering seeing that place on Sunday. And I know some folks live this daily. But, I adore this place and I have ten people a week tell me what a sweet cool job I have. And it's all true. Just some pot holes.

There's no exciting news. I put some plants at the water wheel house. I found some verbena half price at Wal-mart and it looks so pretty. I mowed the lawn. I did laundry. I uploaded new tunes to the IPOD. I got the ingredients for Gazpacho.

I am invited to a goddess fair on Sunday. And I feel so unlike a goddess right now that it is probably the very best place for me to be. My friend Angela, who is by her very nature sweet and angelic like a child has invited me with her and her husband and maybe another girlfriend. I like a quiet Sunday. But, I keep preaching the get out and do new things...so I should make myself do it. It's a free ride and the fair is free. And other wise I will come home and mope.
Because that's what I've been doing lately. Moping. And I hate even the sound of that word, much less the thought of the action. But, there it is. My new favorite pastime. Moping.

I am going to a solstice party tomorrow night. I will look forward to it until tommorrow afternoon when I will become certain that I should not go. My friend Trinity though, will be here to get me, regardless of what charges I make. So, I will be going - possibly JOsh too. The boys of my life.

And I am planning a hike with Bently tomorrow. He deserves a treat from me. I mean, he spends the summer in a crate. So, I think we're heading to sTone Mountain, NC. One of my favorite favorite places. We went once last year. It's a state park, but you can find quiet spots.

Alright, I should finish my Woodchuck Draft Cider. If you haven't tried one, do it. It's so refreshing. And if you've just come back from a 2 mile run and had no dinner, you can get a slight buzz from half a bottle!

Say what you need to say

2008-06-17T22:18:00.002-04:00

He's such a sport.

An ancient offer

2008-06-16T20:36:00.003-04:00

I'm not feeling very well tonight, so this is going to be brief. I just have to share this twilight zone type story with you...because well, it's ooh ahh strange-ish.

For just a moment, we have to return to the mechanic story for this particular tale of oddity. A few (could it be two or three?) weeks ago, my friend Leslie was telling me that she had a friend who knew the mechanic's mom and the mom's name was "Fran". And this hit a chord with me somewhere, but I ignored it. It's a very different name, that you don't hear often around this place. And since then, it's popped into my head a few times, followed by a question mark. Why? is it popping up? What do I think I know? Where's the connection? But, I just kept on going.

This morning as I was driving to work, pieces fell into place a bit. During the early years that I worked at the winery, I waited tables at a sweet local restaurant near home for extra money and because the owners were fabulous folks. (I won't give it a shout out because it's closed now - well, the restaurant has been closed for over a year.) For a brief period of time, I worked with a lovely woman that we called Frannie, and she desperately tried to fix me up with her single son. I was even shy-er then than now...and so I said if he would come to the restaurant, I could meet him that way. But, didn't want to go with her to meet him because I knew it would make me unspeakably nervous. She said she didn't think he would come there, and to the best of my knowledge he never did. So, today, I call my old employers and ask this woman's last name...and you guessed it...

the mechanic is her son.

I missed the mom-boat. Now I feel like an even bigger loser.

And that's all I have to say. :)

Accessories

2008-06-14T20:00:00.003-04:00

I was thinking as I was driving today, or walking this evening, or just sitting...can't remember, but it crossed my mind at some point...the idea of pocketbooks. Purses, bags, wallets, backpacks, what have you. And I was thinking about all my friends who love pocketbooks and how what they carry seems to reflect a bit about who they are. I'll use names because there's not a bit of this that I wouldn't say to them face to face.

Leslie - by far one of the more interesting purse collector's and she loves the designer bags (which she gets cheaply at Ross's or TJ Maxx). I could never tell you (even if you pinned my ears to my head, or to a wall and pulled me south) what designer she particularly fancies right now...but the purses are kinda flashy, metallic colors and lots of bling hanging off - like little silver butterflies, rhinestone pieces, etc. Now, I would never in a zillion years call Leslie "flashy" because she isn't...but what she is, is charming in a less glossy but greatly effective way. The purse, I believe, is making her statement that there's so much more to Leslie that what you might at first see. And I love the boldness of that statement, the confidence and all that it says about my friend.

Kari - I love Kari's purses. I'd love to have them handed down, but I have a feeling that she just keeps collecting. Kari's purses reflect a tiny bit of funkiness. Now, you would never see this about Kari...because she is practical to a fault and I would totally let her handle my finances because getting her to part with money is like wrestling a bull. But, there's a sweetness to Kari underneath that you don't see up front. And although she will probably argue this, there's just a touch of funky catty superchick to Kari that you don't see in her style unless you pay attention to the purse. I like that it tells her secrets, just a tiny bit, and I like more that I know she knows this about it but will never admit to it.

Nora - black, black, black. Stitching if possible. Streamlined. Versatile. Practical. Nora's purses are all about the image Nora wants to put out there. I think they are little about the real Nora. But, I always think that Nora is enough of herself that she doesn't really need the accessory to help tell the story. Her bags match her outfits, match her business-like practical self, but don't give us the inside story.

Connie - She likes the cloth ones, don't know that designer either. She also loves plaid. And Connie's purses always convey to me who she is and who she is trying to be. She is wonderful and kind and we grew up in the cabbage fields together. But, she's also a teacher and she and her husband do the up-and-coming couples thing. So, she carries the purse that is hip in a country hip sort of way. Which is to say that she chooses what would be appropriate for where she lives and who she hangs with. She's keeping up with the JOnes', but I think she truly likes it...so not a rat race deal at all.

I could go on and on and on. Of course, all my friends carry purses. I carry hand-me-downs and I can never get myself to buy a purse, unless it is good will and under $5. How much does a purse define you? Minimally, I would imagine. If I had to say what the purse I'm carrying now defined me as, one word, it would be simple. And although that is something I wish I could master, the art of simplicity, it is impossible to think that I've even ever experienced it for more than a few moments at a time. What would that purse that defined me look like, you ask? Probably a bucket with a big hole in the bottom. We could paint it red just for funsies.

Snail's pace

2008-06-14T08:20:00.003-04:00

It surprises me how long an awful emotion can drag on. I woke up this morning, snug as a bug while the mountain breezes blew soft through the window and I thought...I think I am over this. And I wasn't exhilarated, but it was a nice satisfied feeling. Like just enough pie, without going over board. But, as soon as I stood up, I lost all that and hit that wall of hopelessness. It's funny how the action of living can be so much more difficult than the idea of it. Laying in bed, I felt good, felt relieved and okay about the day ahead. Standing up, I felt like stopping. Not permanently. But, I no longer wanted to move forward.

Happiness skips around, gets hit by other occurances and ends quickly. While sadness, or hopelessness invade you and lay inside you like sleepy slugs. And just as you think they've exited through your ear canal, you get up and feel them right there in your stomach all over again.

I have a big work day today, social butterfly girl must prepare for the day...putting on a good face, some cheery clothes and tightening the hatches on Mr. sad slug for about ten hours. If you get to the blue ridge parkway, stop by and have some wine with us!

Day 3

2008-06-12T18:59:00.002-04:00

I'm still not happy. And that's okay, because there are so very many emotions to choose from these days, right? I find myself longing to be quiet, not take part and just step back a bit from everyone. I overcome that because work doesn't work that way, and people would be hurt at the country store if I walked in, paid for fuel and just left. So, I talk and I get pedicures. Well, I got A pedicure (the second of my life) and now my toes (so soft with trickles of almond oil) are painted "Cajun Shrimp". Why this appealed to me more than the Rendevous at Midnight or My Chihuahua bites....I"m not quite certain. But, the color is ablaze, and it looks sturdy...which is good, knowing me the way I do.

It is better now, the sad part of me feels like a long rectangular room at the top of my chest. It's a heavy room, but it doesn't overwhelm me with sadness so much. The door seems shut and I just feel the weight of it. It's so hard to put yourself out there. It's so hard to find anyone here to feel like putting yourself out there for. And then my friend made it seem like things were swimming along and either they were and something happened just lately or they never were. And finding the truth from him seems nearly impossible. I believe that he believes what he says, he is sincere. And yet, it doesn't quite make sense.

But people don't always make sense, do they? In fact, they rarely make sense. We're going to hash it out tomorrow night. Sit down face to face and get through it and go on from there.

I miss the hope. The believing. And now life feels like work again...well, it is work like always, but there's nothing to make the day snap. YOu know? And I miss that feeling - that - something may be shifting in the universe - feeling. That- love might come looking for me at last - type feeling.

I'm trying to just be with it. This too shall pass.

My friend at work wants me to try the computer stuff...but I really don't think so. I am such an energy girl...it's what draws me. I think getting to know a potential date/mate through the computer is dangerous because at some point you know them so well that meeting them is completely terrifying. The expectations feel impossible. And while I can be quite communicative in writing, in person I can be terribly shy and quiet and utter four words all night. It's not the answer for me, personally. Although I think it is a great vehicle for some.

I don't know. This just feels awful. I know you know what I mean.

Something about this speaks to me...

2008-06-10T22:03:00.003-04:00

"What if you
could wish me away?
What if you
spoke those words today?
I wonder if you will
miss me
when I'm gone?
It's pointless
release me
I'll leave
before the dawn."

j.radin

Well...

2008-06-09T20:53:00.003-04:00

I feel like I should let you know how it went. I mean, after all, fashion addict is holding her breath and she seems like such a nice girl, so I should stop the madness.

It didn't go.

And the twists and turns of this whole story make it impossible to explain more fully, without laying blame where it might or might not lie, or hurting people who may or may not be innocent, or just sounding like I don't want it to be me, so let's blame someone else.

The final word, found by Leslie after much frustration and confusion, was that the mechanic is healing from a breakup recent, and will just be going it "alone" for a while.

So, I am sad...I can't help it. It takes so much for me to generate interest in something that causes me so much complete terror. And well, the philosopher in me has taken this far and wide and hurtful. But, I am attempting to get to a place of just moving on. I want to lay quiet on the floor of the pond, like a big fat catfish and just blow bubbles, eat and avoid hooks or funny looking worms. But, I don't have a job that will allow that. And I don't have a life that will allow me not to have a job.

Plus, catfish quite often get chewed up, and that wouldn't be very good at all.

22

2008-06-08T17:44:00.002-04:00

For some odd reason, I am letting a 22 year old get the best of me this day after our lengthy conversation. The two regulars in my life are guys who are still figuring things out, and occasionally we will sit down to $5 Little Caesar's pizza and dvd nights that late after turn into discussions at times lengthy and thought provoking.

It was so hot last night, I had just a slice. And then we watched Sweeney Todd, and if you can handle the gruesome GRUESOME elements, it's quite funny and clever and very very good. I watched through my fingers, the way I do and my boy- friends laughed at me, the way they do, and said things like "did you see the blood just spatter against the screen!" like they are ten.

Two movies later, can't remember the first one's name right now, the youngest of the two, Joshua, decided to give me a hard time about the mechanic. Why I was considering "this" guy for my life? What did I hope to get out of it? What was I thinking? And I argued that I want to be challenged. I want that challenge of intimacy. I've been bad at it in the past, and I think I have grown a lot and I think I am ready again. And he said that I made it sound like a science project rather than a relationship with another person. And I stopped short...for a minute, but I countered that of course, I, like 70 billion other humans have a hard time thinking someone could really care for me - with all my failings and so of course I would make it sound like a "project", it's protective. And he said that he didn't understand what I was looking for? Especially in this guy. And I said maybe I just want a boyfriend...it could actually be that simple. But, he said I was stereotyping myself and he thought that was absurd because I'm "not like all the other women" he knows and he would never stereotype me that way. And I said, SO? Why do I have to be different? And he said he thought I was just "bored" and looking for something new and when I got this relationship (there's no relationship up for bid...it's a mild crush sort of thing) I wouldn't want it and then I would use its demise to hurt myself, saying I wasn't good enough for it in the first place.

This was a one hour, very intense conversation. And I left it thinking, could I really be that cold? But, first of all, I don't get bored. There are way too many things to think about for me to ever get bored. It's not a state of being that I would tolerate, let's put it that way. So, I've never said I was bored...well since grade school when it could be cool to be bored and I may have said it then, can't remember. I would never insert a human heart to cure my boredom. And my friend knows this about me. I'm not sure where this was coming from other than that this man-mechanic is very different from me. He is. But, I like men that are smart about how to fix things and are strong about how they do things and he seems this way to me. It's like my dad, who is quite brilliant, but will never entertain the conversations I want to have. I look to friendships for the philosophical and intellectual stimulation that I need. I am drawn to a more practical guy...because frankly, it's opposite of me and seems to fit me well because of it.

Am I ready to be real with someone? Who knows. And I guess that is what's got me goosey about our conversation. I mean, I think I am at a better place to let someone in to my life...but who can say for certain, until you test the water. Right?

It might be time to open another fortune cookie....

Pace

2008-06-06T21:34:00.002-04:00

It's funny how sometimes when you fall out of your norm, you get back on track. Not necessarily the track you were on, but maybe something closer to the track you actually want to travel.

It's been an interesting week. I have found out some hard things. I have hoped a little and been devastated a little. I have been self-loathing and then pretty darn bold. And I have found out that not everything is as it seems when it comes to your nearest and dearest sometimes.

The story is wayyyyyyy too long to go into...but let's just say that the match-making of the mechanic didn't go so well. And of course, I thought it was me and it may still be me...but the difference this time was that I reached out for support. Instead of burying my head in the sand like some odd birds I know, I talked about what I was feeling and I got so much support from some greats friends of mine. They said that my match-maker was amiss. And that's such a nice answer huh? to why the mechanic didn't show up for dinner with our little group. I thought on it.

And in the meantime, I opened another fortune cookie (I am down to half a box - they are small boxes) and it said this, "If you think you can, You can." So, I kept this secret to myself - because I don't want my friends having one more piece of ammunition for me to be bold, and I called two of my closest friends. The first one is your typical cutie - blonde, size zero, yoga instructor, could pick up a man at the drop of any hat...but she knows me and loves me and she is my secret holder of all past tales. And she said (what I thought she might say) "do something bold! have fun with it! don't worry so much!" This woman met her now husband when after walking past his workplace and sharing waves with him for 6 months, she decided to put a note on the very window he looked out of that said, "come out and talk to me!" And he did, and they did, and happily ever after. But, my thought was still, I'm not her. So, I called my second friend who is so classy beautiful, clever and generous even in her toughness - but very like me in her insecurity. She would not put a note on a window - and we are both single girls. So, she said, "you need to be bold. Tear your windshield wiper off. Time is nigh. I couldn't do it, but you should!" And so I thought, hmmm, similar answer.

I got to work this morning after realizing I am less than 100 miles from an oil change need, and that my dad is visiting on Tuesday (car questions abound) and I thought...I am calling for an oil change. So, I dialed. Ten different times and hung up, ten different times. And I sat very still. And I said, if no one comes up the stairs in two minutes, then I will call. And someone came, but they quickly left. So, I listened and I said if no one is around the stairs in ten seconds, then I will call. And no one was, in ten seconds, so I called. And it rang a thousand times (because that's what phones do at garages) and finally (of the three live people who could answer the phone) he answered.

And for one second, I couldn't say anything and my finger rested lightly on the hang-up button. But, I persevered (because what did the cookie say???) and said that I was calling to make an appointment for an oil change. And he said when and time and then he said, "who is this?" and I didn't want to say my name. I forced the wind through constricted pipes and said it, and he said...

...

"I thought that was the sound of your voice."

Which was kinda dreamy. Since I've never talked to him on a phone and I've just seen him twice in the past month for car duties. And he doesn't really know me at all.

And I know that it could be nothing. I know this. In fact, I expect this.

And when that happens, I will really try hard just to be proud of how bold I was to march in that garage not having a clue what my matchmaker said, but having a hint that it was almost nothing. He is in a self-absorbed place...I love him, but that's the truth of it. And I won't tell you that whole story, but it's kindof sad.

Anyway, the mechanic. I said yep, it's me and I won't bring the spotted dog this time!

Then, he laughed. And I said thanks. And that was all. Till MOnday.

Are you nervous? Because I definitely am.

It's too hot to write!

2008-06-05T21:35:00.002-04:00

Things that cannot survive in this heat:

1. an ice cream cone, no matter how carefully molded

2. the hair on my head, gone frizzy mad

3. the spotted dog who is breathing too heavily

4. the angora rabbit who has a fragile heart

5. the ice cubes in my passionfruit tea

6. a tall, cool one of anything

7. the baby tomato plants in the garden

8. the potted pansies

9. the furry cats

10. my patience.

Dark clouds

2008-06-04T18:38:00.002-04:00

It's funny how emotions slow you down. I live so much of every day without them. I mean, maybe I get frustrated, excited, intrigued, or perplexed, but the big guys don't show up. Pain, despair, terror, hope, joy, elation, grief, heartache. They stay where they are supposed to stay to cause the least amount of trouble. And I manage them well, for the most part. I am a good emotional manager. I broke down once at work after my dog died and couldn't stop crying and had to be revealed to those around me. It wasn't a bad lesson though, I work with amazing people.

But yesterday and today have been difficult sad days at home. I've been in self-mutilation mode and it's just a bad place to be in. I don't cry, I wish I would sometimes. I just pick myself apart piece by piece until shreds of me lay all over the carpet, pavement and gravel road. And on breaks from that, I am just quiet. Like some un-thought waits behind my lips, but I cannot think it or say it or feel it. It just sits there. And I can feel the line of my mouth holding back the nothing. And I feel guilty about that, but not enough to break it. Not yet.

Last night, I stood at the window for long minutes and I noticed dark clouds against the dusk sky. They moved quickly, relentlessly, blackly, pointedly across my path of vision. And I thought, they have their purpose. But, the sky is bigger, and they know it as they travel across. The menace of their existence is put into perspective by the sky above, below, behind and in front of them. They were like small fuzzy grey soldiers marching quickly to their destination. And even as I saw them clearly, I was also comforted by what surrounded them...the sky that I know every day and all day long, every night and morning.

I'm trying to see through the dark spots right now. Looking for the sky, and I'm close to finding it. I think.

It seems treacherous to say this, almost as though I'd go through the past so many hours again and I would rather not. But, when I visited Auschwitz (definitely no comparison to where I am now) I almost felt honored by the emotion it caused me. I sobbed there, and I've never sobbed in my life. But, it felt amazing to feel something so completely, so strongly and unfalteringly. When the real emotions hit you, the big guys, you are knocked into submission by them. You can't just walk around like everything is alright for a little while. And however inconvenient that may be in the interim, I have to conclude that it's amazing sometimes to feel anything at all. Even when it hurts real bad.

Old friends

2008-06-03T17:34:00.003-04:00

When I lived in Manhattan, I worked on Wall Street in a small firm called American Bond Group. It was a shady affair, as I later learned most broker groups could be. But, like any murky waters, there were some good fish to be found.

One of the most profound lessons I learned while working at that fine establishment was to never mess with Brooklyn girls. They would literally rip your face off for several things, not the least of which was casting an eye in their boyfriend's general direction, or doing anything untowards, disrespectful or uncaring of one of their friends. My office was once tore to pieces, plants in the wall (literally hanging out of the wall) and chairs broken, just because they chased a gal into it and pummeled her before I got to work. I never had any trouble with them, thank God, and even became pretty good friends with a beautiful girl named Patrice, who could knock out every tooth in your head and never crack a nail.

The point of my story is this...today, of all days, I wish I still had my Brooklyn friend. Because she would back my friend, who's been nothing but self-involved for a month now when I needed him to be just a little generous to me, and she would get the truth out of him about what he said or didn't say.

I don't tell my stories, the ones that have ripped and torn at my life. But, it took so very much to get me here and I just needed his help this one situation after months of help on all of his. If Patrice were here, she would pound into him what it took for me to ask for his help and she would find out exactly what happened along the way. And then, she'd probably rip his face off.

I love him. But right now, at this very aching moment, I think I might enjoy seeing that activity.

A note from the twin dragons

2008-06-02T20:02:00.007-04:00

Okay...so it's on. Well, possibly on. Maybe on.

The old group of friends including the new mechanic.

So that we can get to know each other.

And I cannot begin to tell you the headache this has been. So, I said to my friend Leslie, watch us hate each other. Watch him hate me.

Anyway, it's maybe tomorrow night. Tuesday night dinner out. Not in. Not at Leslie's. But out on the town. Meeting him.

(I too am fatigued by the short sentences, but it correctly displays the way thoughts bounce around for me about this particular subject.)

He has one more chance to back out...tomorrow. Or two. Just not showing up.

And it's okay. I mean, it could even be a relief.

I'm fine on my own. Fine with the amount of friends that I have already. Fine.

And yet searching.

And so today, I opened up the pink box of fortune cookies (I keep them on hand for special occasions, sporadic fortune tellings or just random sweetness with oranges). I broke the cookie in two, and it said this on the tiny white slip of paper...

Someone is thinking about you.

(and I have to admit, just to you, that it, well...it felt a little magical.)

What I've been doing...

2008-06-01T15:49:00.005-04:00

SAturday, the day began at Hall's Nursery in Ararat, Virginia. This is one of my favorite places and I have to go in with a budget, or I go crazy. They have trees with oranges on them for God's sake right there in the nursery in Virginia. I love it so much and look forward to the trip immensley. I meant to take photos there, but got so enthusiastic that I totally forgot my camera. I bought a flat of tomatoes for the garden (planted those today) and a flat of herbs and flowers. And a big bag of soil. So, here we are beginning...Bentley in photo, as spotted dogs do.

Here's my herb box and a couple tomato plants. Parsley, basil, thyme, oregano. I planted more over at the garden, but sometimes you just want to step out the door to herbal fulfillment.

A hanging flower and some potted herbs and watercress. Never tried to have watercress before. One of those spontaneous buys that I do when I see gorgeous healthy plants that intrigue me (budget worthy).

This morning, the winery where I spend about 50-70 hours of my life. Isn't it gorgeous though?? We had our first Sunday Sounds Music on the patio. This patio is brand spanking new...I had my doubts, but it looks pretty spiffy.

To get the brick patio, we gave up a big water garden (too many children playing in it and we were afraid they'd get hurt -there was also a pond that puppy toes kept ripping the liner out of - so now, we just have this baby fountain. And who should plant himself there, but the Black Dog himself, Mr. Lucky. He drew a crowd and eventually sat down in the water and just looked at all of us. We adopted him last year, and he's a true love.

Mirror

2008-05-31T19:06:00.002-04:00

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

2008-05-30T20:21:00.002-04:00

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...

2008-05-30T07:05:00.002-04:00

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

2008-05-29T21:12:00.002-04:00

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

2008-05-27T19:10:00.003-04:00

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

2008-05-27T07:18:00.003-04:00

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???

2008-05-25T23:47:00.001-04:00

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

Zonked!

2008-05-25T23:44:00.003-04:00

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

2008-05-23T07:21:00.002-04:00

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

2008-05-21T20:36:00.003-04:00

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

2008-05-20T21:03:00.005-04:00

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

2008-05-20T18:06:00.003-04:00

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

2008-05-19T06:59:00.002-04:00

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

2008-05-18T10:15:00.002-04:00

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

2008-05-18T09:38:00.002-04:00

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

2008-05-15T22:23:00.003-04:00

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

2008-05-14T20:26:00.003-04:00

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.

2008-05-13T21:47:00.004-04:00

Or two....

(I just can't help myself.)

Sometimes it just HAS to be all about ME.

2008-05-13T20:32:00.002-04:00

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

2008-05-12T20:15:00.002-04:00

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...

2008-05-11T21:08:00.002-04:00

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....

2008-05-11T20:34:00.003-04:00

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

2008-05-11T14:38:00.003-04:00

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

2008-05-10T14:54:00.002-04:00

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

2008-05-09T20:33:00.003-04:00

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

2008-05-09T07:43:00.002-04:00

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

2008-05-08T19:50:00.003-04:00

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.)

2008-05-07T20:09:00.002-04:00

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

2008-05-07T07:19:00.007-04:00

"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

2008-05-06T08:26:00.003-04:00

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

2008-05-05T08:55:00.004-04:00

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

2008-05-04T18:27:00.002-04:00

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 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-05-04T13:17:00.005-04:00

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...

2008-05-01T21:42:00.000-04:00

CAke or Death?

Ciao!

Habitual Hesitation

2008-04-30T20:13:00.002-04:00

Well, I'm hitting the heebie jeebies that I always get when heading off into new territories. I've been all kinds of excited about it, until now, when I try to put outfits together and think about all the people, the beautiful people and then think how I'm not gonna be right for that beautiful people place and then...well, you get it. And at some point, I will swirl until I ask myself why I planned something in the first place and then I will try to think about how I would feel if I didn't go...and at that point, I will finally begin to climb back up. Realizing that not going would be extremely disappointing and I would remember that decision for a bad long time.

But, I"m not there yet. I'm still in the "are you sure you should do this" stage. I've never spent time in DC that I wasn't working. I'm so excited to see the city at night...I love the lights against the sky I know so well. The people watching will be wonderful, and I do so enjoy that. And I get to see a friend who is quite lovely. And beyond all those great swell things, there's Eddie...and as my friend Michael would tell you, Eddie Rules!

So, I'll be fine. I'm sure I will be.

More on first date night...

2008-04-30T08:07:00.006-04:00

The arrival of the boy...

A blessed union. (Don't you LOVE those blue flowers???)

A brief chat in the doorway.

To check out LEslie's pictures...which are at times a little ethereal - cool, go here

What a lot of fun we had!

2008-04-29T21:03:00.008-04:00

It was "first date" night for Trinity's themed Tuesday night dinner. And we posed at the old house on his property. I cannot begin to tell you how much fun we had. Next Tuesday, Leslie's theme is the Beatniks. All black and big makeup...so excited!

Me and Miss Leslie on the front porch in a "Boop" pose.

Ghost girl at the window.

Leslie and Trinity with the best wallpaper!!

Leslie...so so gorgeous for "first date" night! She said this was a replica outfit of one her mom wore in the 50's. (Sorry I didn't get her flipped upright...still can't figure these uploading things out!)

This was my favorite picture of Trin and Leslie...but it turned out dark! Dammit! Check the shoes out though!!

First date night

2008-04-29T07:28:00.002-04:00

Well, I have to give you a preview of the night ahead. It's now Tuesday night dinner. And last week I began a crazy addition with the new camera doing action shots in odd ensembles. Tonight is Trinity's dinner night. His theme is "first date", and he is cooking from the cookbook I gave him for his birthday "Skinny Cooks CAn't Be Trusted" by Monique. I will probably make the onion pie, some smoked trout dip...not sure what else. We are supposed to treat this like a first date meal. He asked me to bring my camera and we'll do a "shoot" at the dilapidated house on his property. I suggested old timey first date shots, and I don't have an old timey dress (which makes me sad...LEslie probably may have one) but thought we could do some chaste scenes on the front porch.

Oh, the silly things one looks forward to! Check back later...hopefully I'll get some good fun shots to share with you!

So, what comes around...

2008-04-28T20:37:00.002-04:00

I rode my new bike today on the dirt road. It's more hilly than when I walk it, and tough uphill to the fudge factory. This should be my inspiration, but I can honestly tell you that I have been there twice in my life and that was to buy a friend goodies. I'm not so into the stuff myself.

I love right now that even 80 degrees feels cool and spring-like. I love that 48 this evening was just enough for a jacket as I whizzed past the stream, the church, the black cow grazing. I love that the tree frogs are singing nightly as dusk falls and turns the fields green blue. I love the silence, and sometimes the voices far away, enjoying the evening as much as I do, but not with me.

I stand back from life a good bit. And I often wonder if that's okay. Because I truly love the people that I love, but I don't say it all the time. I am quiet about it. There are times when thoughts of certain people just make me so joyful and I feel everything that they mean to me. And other times when I am so far from that. And I don't want that to be because I am afraid, or too cautious. If it is because I am me, that that will be fine thank you. But, if it is because I am not doing the work I need to, then I am disappointed in me. I can't yet get to the bottom of it. And the other part of this is that it's so damn difficult to understand why anyone does anything for me. And I feel guilt, huge overwhelming guilt about it. So, there is some lack of deserving there. And I am sure that's all tied together.

Is it really okay to be yourself, and what are the conditions?

The Dalai Lama for instance

2008-04-27T07:52:00.004-04:00

I am always curious about humans set to inproportionate places by the society that idols them, or is just using them for personal entertainment, or believes something passionately about them. Reading an article this morning about the Dalai Lama and wondering what goes on inside his head over the fuss made about him. I guess he is different for me from others who might be seen as having similar placement, like the Pope, or the President, or Jay Leno or Cher. Mainly because he is enlightened. The whole idea of enlightenment being that you can't take yourself that damn seriously. So, does he wake to a daily chuckle, don his long flowing apparel and head out to his umbrella? I'm just not sure...and I'd love to have that conversation with him inside his head. Because otherwise, he would be too gentle and kind to speak his truth...which I imagine to be, "what the heck are you expecting of me? I'm a human." I don't think that less enlightened superstars suffer this, because they probably actually believe some bit of it too. I for one, am no good at being what I'm not. Which leads me to a story.

Yesterday a new couple of friends invited me out to dinner with other friends. They believe that I am shy and need to relax and enjoy myself more. And I can totally agree with that sometimes. My friend at work said, gooooooooo, it'll do you good to meet new folks. And so I did. And they were a hoot! I laughed a lot, and people watched my little heart out. But, it didn't make me jump up on a table, and I didn't add a lot to the conversation. But they all, four, insisted that they would pull me out of my reservation at some point down the road. Unlike the Dalai Lama, you can dress me up, give me props and send me out the door with the most supportive masses, but I cannot do the show. It's just not in me to even want to. I don't sit back thinking...wow, I wish I were that person (although they were all fabulous). I rather just sit back. I think they will ask me out again, and the realist in me feels like I need to say...you do realize that you're just getting the same booth corner quiet watching girl, right? Ask me to analyze anyone in the bar, and I can do it...but the rest of it is never gonna happen. Once people realize that they can't change you for the "better", do they lose faith? Do you just go along with the play until the curtain closes? Or do they really know all along that you're never gonna get it and they just enjoy messing with you? It could be any one of those or some combination...but I'm just not enlightened enough to figure out which.

Nothing much...

2008-04-25T20:45:00.002-04:00

The air is different today...and if I were a girl without allergies, I believe the wind might be scented. I catch a whiff of something idyllic every so often when my nasal passages clear enough to bring oxygen all the way into my brain.

I got off of work today and stopped by the garden and planted onion sets. I have no idea really why they call them "sets" because they are singles and I didn't count them, but they aren't priced as a set. Someone will know this answer...share it, if you do. Anyway...it was so therapeutic to drop by the garden after work. Even though I went in late today...it was a kinda stressed out day. Not bad stress, just stress. And the unwinding of putting your feet in red mud and hacking at the earth and then nestling baby plants into it...well, pretty darn wonderful if you ask me.

This is the last brutal week...by that I mean seven day week at work. And I had planned to take a couple days off next week before my DC trip (going to visit a friend and we're going to see Eddie Izzard...I'm just so excited!) but it is not to be. There's too much to get done to have less than a four day week. So, maybe the week after, I think. Maybe.

I don't have any tall tales for you. I feel a bit content, oddly enough. Just satisfied. Not coming off the walls and not tearing at the walls, just content. And I really like that feeling. It's not full of expectation. It waits for nothing more and fears nothing less. It is being, which I think is our truest state. My truest state.

Well, I should wash the red mud off of me and try to get some rest. Big weekend ahead. And then, Eddie...counting the days!

Art for Thursday

2008-04-24T07:28:00.003-04:00

I was out reading blogs this morning, and one of my blog friends reminded me of someone lovely, Camille Claudel. She was the student of the more famous Rodin (think, "thinker") but her work makes me gasp for its movement and beauty. To delight in a well put together slide show, go here .

Dirt Road Ponderings

2008-04-23T19:53:00.003-04:00

I was thinking about picking a dandelion for wishing. And I did not. But, it made me consider what I would wish for at this moment. It is the end of a day off of work. A day that I met a dear friend for lunch. A day that I got to shop the good will and found two vintage scarf's and a pin to match one of them for 50 cents! A day where I packed up all my gardening tools and headed over to the boys' house to work my end of the garden. I should have made a picture...but it's only dirt so far...with a tiny sign made on an interesting piece of wood that names my garden. I also pull twine to mark rows as I will forget where they are if I do not. I planted a slim jim wrapper on the boys' side just for fun. I worked for a couple hours, part of that sunny and then getting pretty cool. And I came home to soup and salad and leftover malted milk balls from my lunch trip to the candy store (Angela is by far the most food decadent person I know...she feels absolutely NO GUILT in saying, "do you want to go to the candy store???" and I LOVE that about her.) I tried for the first time popcorn jelly belly beans...and it was the strangest experience! They do taste exactly like it. And I found myself thinking...does one eat jelly beans to not eat popcorn, or eat popcorn to not eat jelly beans? Of course, the ever-lasting calorie mind that I can never seem to shake. I tried to watch a terrible movie...but I could not...so back it goes to Netflix. And then I took my walk with the dog and now two cats, since Magi has decided to be a walker like the rest of us. He is the youngest of us and the biggest lolly-gagger, so we end up stopping to call for him. And it was at one of these times, on the dirt road, that I thought about wishes. While the soft air caressed my face, and I watched the kitty tales bouncing up the road, and felt the tug of the blue dog leash in my hand (Bently always wants to be in front of all of us)...I realized that I would wish right then for another day like this one. And wow! Because my life has not been about wishing for more days, but more often wishing for less. I've crossed a milestone on the dandelion banked dirt road, and I'm pretty sure that the dirt road knew that would happen all along.

Fade to Charlie's Angels gone very

2008-04-22T21:05:00.001-04:00

very bad. (Action shot)

Tuesday Night Dinner

2008-04-22T20:54:00.005-04:00

Josh climbing walls

Trinity with Hat & Sunglasses

Fair Leslie, Josh-u-a and Trinity major

It's a new night for dinner in these parts. Leslie could no longer make it for Monday night dinner, so tonight we celebrated our first Tuesday night dinner here. I do not have photos of the food, but it was Polynesian fare and quite tasty. We added one fun/funny thing...which was a theme photo segment...I so love this new camera. Although I don't do it justice (yet) I just have a blast using it to capture all the moments. Anyhow...here is the fruit of our labors.

For Kari

2008-04-21T19:45:00.003-04:00

Thank you...

for reading my blog and saying such amazing things.
for loving all kitties and Shaddy in particular.
for being beautiful, smart and funny and way too good for all the local men we know.
for being a member of the Fab 5
for loving your parents to pieces.
for driving and spending money on gas to meet me in Christiansburg (I know that it was difficult to fit into your sensible mind's eye).
for being dear and kind and gentle.
for being sarcastic and making me laugh buckets.
for making breakfast casseroles.
for having great long chairs with ottomans.
for helping me shop for furniture.
for loving the facts of life two hour movie as much as I do.
for having a huge crush on Eddie in October Road because he is gorgeous and loves a curvy girl.
for having a best friend who is a hawt singer in a rock and roll band.
for lemonades always easily drawn from your refridgerator.
for being able to run your own show.
for your willingness to write down directions for me EVERY time I hit your side of town.
for putting up with me being me.
for not tolerating people behaving badly.
for reminding me that I work for a family-based company and exactly what that means.
for making time to meet me for lunch any time I travel through the city.
for asking about the spotted dog, even though I know you are only truly interested in the cats.
for saying "noooo, girrrrrrrrrl" when I pick up something horrible on a shop along.
for donating money to abused horses and now kitty food every month at the shelter.
for having a great aunt, who reads books that I love too.
for sharing blooming onions at outback.
for shopping cheap outlet stores with me, when we both know you are a belk or macy's girl at heart.
for every molecule of who you are.
for every minute of your friendship.
You are cherished goods, my lovely friend.

No harmful intent

2008-04-20T17:59:00.003-04:00

Sometimes I want to put my ear to the ground and see what MOther EArth is telling me. It's always at inopportune times, because I would do it in my yard, or the dirt road, or a nearby field or hollow. But, it usually occurs to me just as the crowd enters the room, or as someone asks me a question that I have no clue how to answer because I realize that it means one thing to the questioner and something totally different to me. It's those times, that I want to lay my head against the concrete and listen for the breathful answer of God, or Mother Nature or the Grand PoohBah. It's realizing that I cannot do that (without A. being frowned upon or B. having to explain myself) that makes me buy back into the mainstream moment. And that is exactly where I don't want to be. Or want to be less. Because let's face it...one must liver (that was a faux pas, but now I kinda like it) there for most of life. So, less. I want less liver and more life.

Of course, I don't know where that puts me. Because there are times when I could stand the liver for a while....just to put something different in my head, jostle thoughts that have grown stagnant, or step out of my box. Someone said to me today..."you are just.................too reserved." I've always thought "careful" but that's the sweet answer. Reserved also means cold, also means stone-like, also means aloof. And this person didn't mean it the way she said it...but again, I see it the way it falls out of the parted lips, ready to be an insult but unwilling to cause pain.

YOu cannot explain yourself in a couple minutes and maybe you can never explain yourself...which is why a load of folks believe that you don't have to. And I haven't reconciled that yet. When someone gives me their thoughts on my behavior, and they aren't being angry, or judgemental or coercive...I feel like I owe them credibility. It was a true enough statement from someone who doesn't suffer my weakness with small talk, common language (meaning common in terms of general, not common in terms of banal) or fear of people. But, it gave me a composite from someone who was paying attention, and I take it to heart in the most thankful way. Because it seems true that the way the world is anymore...we barely see one another, much less offer tidbits of advice. And this person did not offer advice (had she of done so, I may have discounted her comment completely)...she just pointed something out. I'll overthink it TO BE SURE, because I do that type thing. But that sliver of insight has been fodder for the evening muse.

Breakfast Muffin-A new recipe from my head

2008-04-19T08:14:00.004-04:00

Okay...I am better today. I made muffins this morning. I have been in a muffin state of mind lately...which is that idea that you can throw a lot of crazy ingredients into a muffin an come out with a wonderful compilation. Well, most of the time anyway. They turned out well, I think. All types of surprising flavors nestled in there. Here's what I did:

2 cups flour

1/2 cup sugar

1 T baking powder

1 tsp salt

1/4 cup flax seed (because it is a new favorite thing to add)

mix around and make a well for wet ingredients.

A good couple dashes of garlic salt with parsley

Just a dash of red pepper flakes

In another bowl, mix

one egg beaten

1 cup milk (I used almond milk...fewer calories and gives it a nutty twist)

1/3 cup vegetable oil

Add the wet to the dry and before mixing, add

3/4 cup cooked sausage that has been seperated into small pieces (I used a fork and just mashed it up)

2 scrambled eggs (again cut into little pieces so that they will distribute well in the muffin)

1/2 cup shredded cheese

1 T creamy cheese

Mix, mix, mix...not forever, just till it's blended.

Pour into muffin pan--I made 6 giant muffins, as I only have that kind of pan.

Bake (I'm not sure how long, I just watch to see when tops are starting to get brown) and take out of oven when browned a bit. At this point I added a bit o' shredded cheese to the top just for visual candy and popped them back into the oven. Just for a minute. Grab them out, give a minute for cooling, have a muffin!

I like them...get some spicy flavors, some sweet cheesy flavors, some nuttiness. They are very filling! I'll take one by to my friend Leslie...she is my taster on the outside.

In the thick of it.

2008-04-18T20:43:00.002-04:00

It's been a hard day. One of those where I cannot wait to get out of work, but feel guilty leaving. I don't want to compare myself to one more person and fail miserably at being as good, as beneficial, as competent as the other. I have to get over that mess, I know it. But, damn it is so difficult for me. Sometimes everything about me stinks. I mean I feel like I am waving a flag that says loser sometimes. And yet, here's my reality...I prefer the losers. The folks who seem to have it together give me the heebie jeebies. Unfortunately I work with most of that population. And I fall short, not literally because at 5'11", I am as tall as most and taller than some. I fall short in the have it together, I'm so smart, pretty, engaging, fluttery, and mysterious categories of existence. And I hate feeling that way.

The second thing I hate is writing this. I'd rather write about the things that I am thankful for...but some days, I just feel like I want to claw the walls down to escape EVERYTHING. My own skin. As invested as I can feel in that emotion, not once have I been able to part the seams and be gone. I guess that's the afterlife. But, damned if sometimes I have no idea how to get there. I am stuck in this figurethisshitout life and just plain raw with it sometimes.

I think that I forget how to be in my own realm sometimes. That probably sounds crazy, but it's the best way that I can explain it. I just move forward on automachine a lot of the time...because frankly, I can often barely stand to be in the middle of everything. And my job is the middle of everything. So, I zone out and I do it. But, somewhere in that process I lose myself completely. And it's almost like I wake up scared and wired wondering where I have gotten to and why there are all these people around me.

I don't know. I'm good at it. Good at doing what I have to do. Good at denying my internal dialogue and joining the crowd when necessary. I think I just take it too far, stay at it too long or something. I'm so different from the people around me. I know that we all are, but some of us are better at faking it.

And unlike Sally in her fateful scene across from Mr. Crystal...today was not my best performance.

Brassy Southern Cozy

2008-04-16T13:37:00.003-04:00

How I spend my time is often measured by the moments when the inner chamber door of my heart opens and gratitude pours out of it like water from a break in the dam. There are a very few people who can cause this to occur. That point where you are just sitting, and all of a sudden, or slowly and surely, you begin to experience every essence of what is around you. How the sun feels through the restaurant window, how the food tastes, the hum of computers, the chit-chat of other patrons, footsteps across the wood floors, ice chinking against the glass. All these things come to a pitch and you look across from you and see a friend. And more than that, someone that God has given you. For the moment, the hour or the day. I get giddy inside, and all sorts of amazed thoughts bubble up inside of me. For just that moment, I get it. I realize that I was supposed to be here, for this, across from this person, realizing how important they are. Knowing that every conversation we've had has become part of me, part of what I know about the world and life. Comprehending that I have shared space with someone who is so significant and necessary to my life and habitat. The next instant, I see how fleeting it all is, how fragile. And I wish for the moments to stretch out, and they do. Just far enough for me to really see them, jot them down in my memory and know that I will re-live them someday when I need to, I will remember them when the time comes.

If I count them up, there will never have been enough days with my friend Ruth Jean. I won't know enough about the birds that she has loved, or the beautiful baked items that she has created or the walks she made in the woods around her childhood home. I won't see her wicked grin or sparkling eyes enough to render in them the fine details of wisdom and creative genius that dwell there. There won't be enough times of hearing her laugh, or listening to her speak of loved ones. There won't be a crossword puzzle that doesn't paint for me the picture of her blonde hair bent over the page, pen scurrying away with black printed letters put neatly into numbered spaces. I'll not know enough times that she chose carefully words that she felt mattered, or made wonderful outbursts of frivolity or humorous tales.

There are people that you know this about, pretty much as soon as you meet them. And you wonder why it seems that they will never quite know this about themselves. There is a shelf in my heart that belongs to my friend and on it rests the most precious collection. Today, I've added a few more things. In these myriad ways, my cup runneth over.

The way the day closes around here

2008-04-15T15:50:00.002-04:00

Pastoral
the wind laying grass down
the field mice scurry
lawn chair overturned
and I scan the horizon.

Backwards daffodils
leaning away from the breeze
nearly touching the still hard earth
baring their bloom to the chill
the wind stops silent.

Transluscent the way that
skin can be in the sun,
I carve an onion for cooking,
a savory plan for salmon
in my gourmet magazine.

The daylight dwindles,
evening sounds and cats' calling.
The rabbit thumps around
the spotted dog is anxious,
it's supper time on Concord.

April passing

2008-04-14T18:20:00.002-04:00

I attended a funeral today. Not someone I know well, but the son of someone that I know (and work with sometimes). My boss asked me to go with her, and so I did. I'm not normally the funeral type. I did not grow up learning the etiquette and therefore am poor at it. I always ask friends of friends "should I go?" and they say no when they could mean "what are you thinking, of course!" or they could mean "are you really that stupid????" or they could mean "no". And since I am basically an honest person, I take them at their response.

This wasn't the norm...a man younger than me. Leaving a wife and young child, a mother father and sister, a grandmother and many friends. He took his own life. And I understand that, but I never ever understand that. Because it leaves everyone in your life asking themselves questions about what they might have said, done or acted differently. I know I've written about this before. I didn't think I would revisit it this soon. Life surprises you.

It was the saddest place. And I pick up emotion from others. I am super-sensitive in that way. I have to be careful because it can overwhelm me. When I walked through the doors, the grief hit me like a wall. And there were so many tears, so much unrest about this young man. I think his mama is one of the best folks I've yet known. I can't imagine the pain she is suffering. Just seeing her lean against her husband took my breath away.

We are all so fragile, and I forget that sometimes. Too often. I don't know that Damon's path could have been changed. But he's made me remember to pay attention to how I consider the people in my life that might be hurting or scared or melting away inside. Stop and listen to really hear the story. It was a pretty sad afternoon.

S U N D A Y

2008-04-13T09:09:00.003-04:00

It's Sunday morning, and you might not know this about me...but Sunday is my favorite day. I don't think it's a God thing, although I am a person of faith. It's more about how I translate the world on Sundays. Feels quiet, open, ready to be any kind of day at all. The weekdays are work days. Saturday always feels like a fun day because it is the first day off and it has another following it! But, Sunday is like a pause and that breath that I imagine Sunday being feels like endless possibility for rest, or laundry or a visit, matinee, long walk, play with kitties, gardening, reading, writing, whatever. It's just a great day to me and pretty much always has been.

I'm juggling all these new thoughts lately about who I am, could be, might become. My agenda is about self-confidence and for now that is really exciting. Because it's about allowing everything...even the bad stuff. I see that down the road, there will be curtailing, making a plan to exorcise some of the unnecessary behavior...but right now, it's just about acknowledging. Almost like a nod to self and I love it...because basically I have never done it before. Or not in this fashion that feels free and supportive.

Last week was my mama's birthday. I haven't spoken to her in 11 years. I passed by the day barely realizing that it belonged to her. I do hope that her life is good. I do want her to be happy and healthy and loved. I just have my own soul at heart. And I love her where she is, and never want her closer. She placed some horrors inside of me that I can't seem to shake. But, I suspect that she was always ill, and what she put in me was what she had to purge of her own. I know she did the best that she could, because I think we all do.

There's another thing you can do on Sunday...reflect. Now, I think I'll get active! Time to throw the dog bed in the washer. Enjoy your Sunday!

A walkabout

2008-04-11T18:30:00.006-04:00

Following kitties at play. Banjo spying her brother. He doesn't care though, if she does see him first, he will still pounce, she will still hiss and then smack him. And this is the way that it goes.

Sitting by the pond again. It's so warm but overcast and the trees still look wintry bare. I thought about telling you I was in Africa and this an elephant's foot. It's close right? I love seeing the roots of things.

Brother Magi. He's so so handsome, I just can't keep my camera away from him. :)

A bit of bud break. At the winery we are worried about Chardonnay. Last year this same thing happened, bud break and then a heavy frost. It took the 2007 vintage from the state of Virginia. We are all thinking and not saying, "oh no...not again."

Too much Austen

2008-04-10T21:06:00.003-04:00

I believe in love.

I'm not sure why. It's never shown me much.

The hours of my life pass and pass and pass, and love laughs from the box seats. It tickles the air around me, and makes passage of my auditory canal. But, it doesn't confront me or pin me in a corner to ask why I avoid it. To question the content of my soul. To point out the tiny agonies of being missed by such a rapturous opportunity.

It lies on the fringes of me. And at times I feel to proud to summon it, or offer it my hand. Just the reason, love ponders, to leave me alone. Pride is not love, is useless emotion...like fear, which I feel is the real instigator when it comes to my shun.

At an impasse maybe, we two. And I wager that love will win. Because it has before. There are stories of it. I have read them, three or four.

And although I am wary of it. A certain folly feels almost ticklish. Like the lightest exhalation on the dandelion petal, or the whisper of a beetle's flight home. It is tantalizing...

this thought of losing.

A Plea to Cease

2008-04-09T16:36:00.003-04:00

Tonight (!) be sure not to miss America's Top MOdel, where they'll be "fighting it out" with what looks to me like some goosedown pillows. Now, I don't know about you...but I've seen girl's fight before and it's never fluffy. My point is...

Do you want to put your finger as far down your throat as I do over "reality" television?? First of all, what is reality about a top model? They are stick figures who spend hours/days/weeks/years on makeup and hair that someone else helps them to succeed on and make endless amounts of money for being gorgeous. How many of you have that experience on a daily basis? Secondly, if you are fighting it out for poor Paul Peters in elementary school, you still got a little bloody. But, these girls are fighting it out for money or a crown or a title or their picture on a magazine and they're picking up a pillow? Not real. And if so, go meet some Long Island girls...because I'ma gonna tell ya, that those girls can break you up badly and leave not one mark on themselves at the end of it. I've seen 'em, I've shared offices with them. It is the fartherest thing from pretty, but mindboggling amazing it is nothing short of.

But, the truth for me is this...I want to watch the shows that are either based on fact (PBS, Documentaries and the like) or shows that are written by wonderful creative writers who want to make me laugh, cry or dreamy over characters that could only be born of imagination.

If I had a vote it would be to lose the reality tv, because it is anything but real and the concepts are way less than imaginative every time. If we are out of ideas, let's start playing DVD's of the old stuff.

Celestial abodes

2008-04-08T18:27:00.003-04:00

There are times when I find great comfort from a vision. You know how folks tell you to visualize your life, your intentions? A friend "persuaded" me to come home with the video tape of the SECRET, and I will share my thoughts with you once I see it. I will say that I threw the book away after 5 pages. I don't know that I have ever been so fiercely put off as to throw away a brand new book, and this one was a gift from a very good friend. So, I was not loving the book. And it felt like a piece of propaganda to me. They all are...I do realize this, but some folks actually believe in it before they try to sell it. This book felt to me like a sell first. Like someone sat down and said how do I sell a book, cd, audio, lecture series, etc, etc. And came up with this book. My friend says that the video is much different, she has read/seen both. I am critical, but my friend is gushing over it, so I will do it if only to share an experience with her.

So, visualization. Which I do believe in, by the way. I think that you can see life through a rosy pair of spectacles or you can mark it off day by day tallied in the mud. But, I've not done a lot with visualization. It can be too hokey pokey for me...and if you knew me, that would mean more. I am so into growth and spiritual change, that it's hard to scare me off, or make me the skeptic.

To get to my point, one of the only visualization projects that I have ever enjoyed came to me while sitting on a hay wagon in the field one evening when I lived on Round Meadow. I envisioned myself living on a star. I "built" a home there, I had books that I loved, my animal friends and a tiny paper cup connecting me to the folks that I love back here on earth. Removed from the stress of my life, or the need to find a mate, make more money, grow my own food, balance tires, meet deadlines...well, it was more than heavenly. As far away as I am sure I would be on that not very bright star that I chose to live on...the worldly things are no longer my concern. It brought a new element to star-gazing, and now when I find myself at it, I search for my star and think of myself there.

A Dedication to the dirt road

2008-04-07T21:15:00.004-04:00

My dearest friend dedicated a song to me and this blog. She found it on a cd by Lucinda Williams and gave me the whole cd. If I knew how, I would link it here. I always think it's funny how people think of you when you aren't around and they have no reason to think of you at all. It is a gift of abundance that exceeds words. And I love it when it happens and I get to find out. Here are a few of the lyrics.

Lucinda Williams: "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road"

Car wheels on a gravel road
Low hum of voices in the front seat
Stories nobody knows
Got folks in Jackson we're going to meet
Car wheels on a gravel road
Cotton fields stretching miles and miles
Hank's voice on the radio
Telephone poles trees and wires fly on by
Car wheels on a gravel road.

Poem of the Day

2008-04-07T08:13:00.003-04:00

I get a daily poem in my email box. Some of them I love, some not so much. This one spoke to me, as therapy has always been of consequence in my life. Kenneth Koch captures it this way.

To Psychoanalysis

I took the Lexington Avenue subway
To arrive at you in your glory days
Of the Nineteen Fifties
when we believed
That you could solve any problem
And I had nothing but disdain
For "self-analysis" "group analysis" "Jungian analysis"
"Adlerian analysis" the Karen Horney kind
Allother than you, pure Freudian type
Despicable and never to be mine!
I would lie down according to your
Dictates but not go to sleep.
I would free-associate.
I would say whatever
Came into my head.
GreatTroops of animals floated through
And certain characters like Picasso and Einstein
Whatever came into my head or my heart
Through reading or thinking or talking
Came forward once again in you. I took voyages
Down deep unconscious rivers, fell through fields,
Cleft rocks, went on through hurricanes and volcanoes.
Ruined cities were as nothing to me
In my fantastic advancing.
I recovered epochs,
Gold of former ages that melted in my hands
And became toothpaste or hazy vanished citadels.
I dreamed
Exclusively for you.
I was told not to make important decisions.
This was perfect.
I never wanted to.
On the Har-Tru surface of my emotions
Your ideas sank in so I could play again.
But something was happening.
You gave me an ideal
Of conversationentirely about me
But including almost everything else in the world.
But this wasn't poetry
it was something else.
After two years of spending time in you
Years in which
I gave my best thoughts to you
And always felt you infiltrating
and invigorating my feelings
Two years at five days a week,
I had to give you up.
It wasn't my idea.
"I think you are nearly through,"Dr. Loewenstein said.
"You seem much better."
But, Light!Comedy! Tragedy! Energy! Science! Balance! Breath!
I didn't want to leave you.
I cried. I sat up.I stood up. I lay back down. I sat. I said
But I still get sore throats and have hay fever"
And some day you are going to die.
We can't cure everything.
"Psychoanalysis!
I stood up like someone covered with light
As with paint, and said Thank you.
Thank you.
It was only one moment in a life,
my leaving you.
But once I walked out,
I could never think of anything seriously
For fifteen years
without also thinking of you.
Now what have we become?
You look the same,
but now you are a past You.
That's fifties clothing you're wearing.
You have some fifties ideas
Leftabout sex, for example.
What shall we do?
Go walking?
We're liable to have a slightly frumpy look,
But probably no one will notice
another something
I didn't know then.