She

She just oozes venom. Nothing I say is worth crap. I ask what do you want to do, she  says, i don't care what ever you want to do, so I say we are going to take the bus and she complains about her feet and walking to the bus I say, ok we can take a a cab - oh now she says, let's do what YOU want. At lunch, i thought she'd have a better view in the seat facing the boats, so i said, sit here, and she flounced down into the chair... Observant, I saw I had done SOMETHING to make her mad, so I said, you can sit here in the other seat if you would rather. oh NO, she said, you want me to sit here so I will sit here. I said, you can sit in whichever you want, i just thought the view would be better from that one. Oh I am just fine here if this is where you want me. I almost hit her square in the face. Instead I leaned over real close, put my hand on her wrist and whispered in her ear, you can sit in whch ever seat you want, i just thought this was the BETTER seat, so she grabs her stuff and says OK I WILL change, that's the one i wanted anyway. i came so close to twisting her arm or throwing a glass of water in her face several times, or maybe just punching her.

At dinner, my cousin, no relation to her, and i are chatting as we usually do once a year when we get together. I mention how my cousin's grandma got HER her first job and Oh my does that set her off on a roll, talking and and oh my she is just in story heaven. I finally say something about seeing another cousin recently in Chicago, and you would have thought I had actually made good on my mental threats and slapped her. She sat there the rest of dinner, picking at  her sandwicm with her lips pursed, wouldn't say a thing to anyone.

When the bill comes, she asks, am I supposed to pay for everyone? No, I mutter, we all pay our own.When we wre offered a ride home instead of having to suffer the bus all the way back, it is, oh no we don't want to put you out of your way. My cousin insits, couldn't be nicer about it, and she sits like a lump, as we are getting out, she apologizes profusely for  putting them out....

and now she is in her pajamas, faces washed, in bed watching television.  barely 8pm...what am i supposed to do for 3 hours.

 i love her but i can't be with her. she makes me feel worthless. a mother is not supposed to do that to a child. SHE makes ME feel like I should jut kill myself. That i am an ugly unstylish heaven useless blob. SHE makes ME feel like SHIT

this one's for you Irish Gumbo

This post was inspired by Irish Gumbo, one of the best bloggers writer/poet/photographers, I've run across on this here internet.

Normally, quite voracious in his style, and never one to be at a loss for words, a couple of weeks ago, he reported feeling "writers block" for some time. It seems to be going around to some of those I have been reading over the years.  Many of us (including me) are rehashing old posts and ideas, or just posting photos, but mainly using our blogs more to VENT, which is what they are FOR, but it just feels like more so, than in the past.  IG wrote that "I know this is a first-world problem, and it doesn't threaten to destabilize anything else in my life.  So I am grateful for it to be so." However, I think his malaise is pandemic in the first world, particularly the US among the middle to lower middle to poorer classes. I don't know anyone who isn't at least mildly "underwater" in some way, and I do not just mean monetarily. The news, the internet, television, everything conspires against us to make us feel like we MUST be productive, we MUST put notches in our belt, we MUST get better and bigger and richer. Pills to make you hard, drinks to wake you up, teas to calm your mind, undergarments to support what sags, causes to join to make you feel like you matter, cars and houses to buy to make you seem American.  

Frankly, while I am not joining a movement or anything, I am really starting to see that this is a trap "they" want us to languish in. And who is "they?"  The government, corporations, doctors, lawyers, politicians, people over thirty (of which I am one, I am afraid) - all those things and ideas and people the Occupy Movement is protesting.   YOU, nor I will never be GOOD enough, or THIN enough and certainly  not rich enough, but that won't prevent THEM for making us feel like we ought to at least TRY to be more gooder or thinner or richer.  NOT trying is un-American. You are a loser if you aren't prolific, or at least TRYING to be prolific.  

Well, fuck that.  I think we should all just let ourselves off the hook a little bit. Rather than being frugal with the heating oil, appreciate the coolness of the air bundled up in a comfy sweater. Instead of worrying where that next contract is going to come from, relish the silence of the phone. Instead of coveting your neighbors 42" flat panel TV, appreciate the stereo and those CDs you never play, but spent so much money on. Irish, don't beat yourself up because you have writers block, enjoy the transient nature of the blank sheet of paper, and its unfathomable potential.

When you (I) (we) least expect it, something will rise up. In YOU, Irish Gumbo, I have no doubt. and for the rest of us, I will just cling to my hope and convictions that light will shine, morning will come and ideas will flow. 

howdy

Thanks for the prod, King!  I have been super busy, or so it feels. Actually, all I do is work and work out. Now that I have a smart phone, i spend a lot less time on line in general. I can check email from bed or god's sake, or at the gym while I am riding the bike, so no more traipsing around the World Wide Web - it is really a pain on that 3" screen.  Frankly, I DO waste a lot of time on BRAIN SUCKER, I mean,  Facebook. And then some "friend" hooked me up with Words with Friends. I really should delete that account, but I don't think I would ever get any updates from my family with out....Found out my cousin Karen is in hospice for Lung Cancer....via Facebook....and other such important details.  I've actually been trying to write notes, use up stationary and STAMPS, to help support my sister's husband, who doesn't want to lose his job at the USPS....but my handwriting SUCKS and it is hard to write with a pen - it is SO slow!  Gawd!  I am just glad I never wasted time perfecting my cursive handwriting, now that I hear they aren't even teaching it anymore in school. After I post this, while I have momentum, I have to catch up on 3 months of my favorite blogs....and there are not a few of them....

So, what have I been up to (it is my blog, so it tends to be all about me, right?). Last week was the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation walkathon, and I raised ALMOST $3,000! (Here is a link if you want to help me actually GET to $3000)  I WAS actually getting burnt out on JDRF, then they went and published a full page ad in the Washington Post and the New York Times demanding the FDA get off its' bureaucratic ass, and approve the artificial pancreas project, technology that is already available in other countries!  AND, they changed their logo and name to more accurately reflect that they are out there for the CURE for TYPE 1 diabetes, and not just for the cute little kids, but also for the  85% of us who are adults!  (CLICK HERE for more information on the name/logo change).

I am joining the new millennium and bought a new computer yesterday, and yes, Dude, I got another Dell. Skipped Vista and Me and went straight from XP to 7 Professional (cuz I am not ready to upgrade my software yet...baby steps...) My laptop monitor went out, so I am no longer mobile,as I am hooked into a real monitor now...sigh. Which is a pain since I have 3 weeks of travel ahead of me!, but hopefully it will be delivered BETWEEN Florida and before Chicago...here's hoping.

Working out is about all I do for fun (?) these days.  I have been doing step aerobics a couple times a week, and pilates 4 times a week, though one of my teachers just quit so now I am screwed. I have also been doing Pilates reformer classes here and there, and Cross Fit, which I ADORE!!! I actually have bruises on my arms where the 45 pound bar hits me, and my legs were so weak from air squats today, I could barely do step class!  More please

But of course, I am going on a quick vacation to see mom this weekend, and then it gets REALLY busy round here....

Well, I guess that is enough. I have alot to rant about, mainly, I am sad they felt it necessary to lynch Michael Jackson's doctor.  They ruined him...in my opinion, he did not murder MJ, or act recklessly...but I guess they didn't pick me or the jury.....

I wonder if there is anyone still out there, reading.....i hope so...Say hi if you are there :-)

As bloggers (if as loosely as that term can apply to me, since I blog so appallingly infrequent), we understand and appreciate and VALUE our constitutionally protected RIGHT to free speech, do we not?  However, there are certain rules and regulations that we are required to follow, if we want to play here, right? We can't slander and libel; we can't be obscene (define obscene) and other such minor constraints.

Now, let's think for one second about what if it were our JOB to report news, write stories about things that are happening, and if we are SO fortunate, to speak for an entire network on public television/radio.  Given that power, you would certainly enjoy your First Amendment rights as fully as you were allowed.....given the constraints and rules and regulations of your employer. 

I am speaking of course, of the firing of Juan Williams at NPS, for speaking his personal opinion on Bill O'Reilly's show the other day.  NPR has justly said this was a violation of his contract; that they requested FOX not use his NPR association when he was on their network; and have repeatedly asked Juan not to appear as an "NPR news analyst" on Fox programming.  All the reputable networks ask the same of their news people and journalists.  Their job is to investigate and report the news in a non-biased way. Some got all pissed off that ABC wouldn't let their anchors wear American flag lapel pins, as even THAT could be seen as politically motivated.  Oh, you remember those days after September 11th? If you didn't have a flag in your window, or on your car, or tattooed across your forehead, you were a TERRORIST, or even worse, UNAMERICAN (see this post for what trouble THAT got me into)

Mr. Williams wrote for the Washington Post for years, where he won numerous awards for his outspoken opinions, but as a NEWS ANALYST, he does not have the right to speak his mind, OR his opinion in public.  The right wing conservatives are ranting that NPR is squashing free speech! Now, we know the right has always had a thing against NPR - most people who listen to it are educated, open minded and curious about the world we live in, unlike the base constituency of the right, most (not all, of course, I would never dare to stereotype an entire population) of whom are Jerry Springer loving, Sarah Palin supporters who think men should have control of women's bodies, that separation of church and state are not "in" the Constitution, and who probably couldn't locate Eritrea on a map if their lives depended on it.

If you read the memo NPR put out on the firing, they very clearly state that, as Juan's EMPLOYER, they felt what he said was in violation with his contract as an employee. Employees may attend events, to REPORT the facts, but not to participate, and certainly not to voice their opinion as a representative of NPR!!

If Bill O'Reilly had a crew on the street (oh PLEASE come to my street), and ran into him as some random man, then sure, Juan Williams could say whatever he wanted, and as even I would defend to the death his right to have his ridiculous myopic, xenophobic opinion.  But to be on the news, as a NPR analyst?  come on.  This is not a violation of free speech!

So, now I have "friends" calling me naive and stupid for not hearing liberal "bias" on NPR.  I listen to NPR all day long. I hear honest, truthful, black and white reporting on what is happening in the WORLD.  The fact is, it would not have mattered one red cent what Juan Williams' opinion on ANYTHING was....whether he was pro choice, pro gun, pro beat the baby seals, it just would NOT matter. He was in violation of his contract and NPR had the right to terminate their employee. 

I think the whole laughable/lamentable thing is NOW Fox GNUS has the "ousted" former NPR news analyst Juan Williams on THEIR payroll, so they can further vilify those of more open minds and call democrats, liberals and others of more open minds and hearts STUPID. A $2million contract with Fox for speaking his mind? Heck, I would take a public stand in opposition to my employer's rules and regulations and would have even thrown in the race card myself, if it meant I would be getting 2 million bucks AND another job! So, now at least Mr. Williams is back to doing what he does well - speaking his opinion,  and leaving the truth and the facts to those who really care about them. Bravo!

10 years

reprinted from 2 years ago.....

It has been a long time coming. I have tried many times to put black markings on paper about this event that so deeply touched me....usually I use other people's words and images, who have been more successful than I in summing things up. So here it is....the 8th 10th anniversary of a really fucking bad day for many of us, and I am finally ready to unleash it. And it is self-indulgent drivel, if you want my honest opinion. There is no point and it has no end, sort of like the health care debate....can any real conclusion or final assessment be drawn? If you'd rather read something much more interesting and sure to draw copious tears to your hardened heart, and I sure wouldn't blame you, please see Brian Doyle's exquisite and gut wrenching piece Leap (in fact go read it anyway - it is much better than what I wrote below)

So, anyway.....before September 11th, writing had always been a joy. I was always jotting down ideas and making notes, culling my journal and email for little tid bits to develop - the process of creating something with words felt cathartic and liberating. It was so easy to spew my scattered, incomprehensible thoughts out of my fingertips as words, and stories and poems (and not just in English), typing or scribbling faster than I could think, onto paper, sometimes sending them away, far away - sometimes for someone else to read, and sometimes NOT, to burn, to bury, to delete, to fold up and tuck into my journal...it always helped when I was down or sad or upset and even when it wasn't emotional diarrhea, I enjoyed it immensely, and I loved sharing it with my friends and family.

But then came that awful day, and the spewing sputtered. An emotional earthquake rocked my foundations, and I erected this giant dike in my head, and around my heart and my words stopped coming so freely. After being called unAmerican for voicing my liberal opinion by certain narrow minded people in my family, I stopped wanting to share ANYTHING with ANYONE. I stopped contributing to the diabetes support group I had always followed, I stopped writing long letters during lunch,I stopped writing silly poems. Things and feelings and thoughts and emotions and even actions were choked back, tucked away, hidden, stuffed into the back corners. Words literally failed me, and writing was no longer the outlet it had always been, it no longer made sense and it didn't feel right. I couldn't say anything appropriate or reasonable, and really, the bottom line was, who cared anyway?

As the years pass, I will pull my finger out of the dam every so often, and let out a little trickle of emotional fodder to create something for my "blog about nothing," about life, my life, the world, but I have always ached to have something of my own to say about the whole overwhelming, nonsensical specter that was/is September 11th. (And please don't call it "nine eleven" around me - that is "shorthand," something the media concocted to make it catchy...It's a Fraternity, not a Frat, it's your country, not a cunt, and god damn it, it is September 11th, not 9/11).

After that day, in the days and weeks that followed, I burrowed in. It was a long time before I really communicated with anyone, and I mean “communication” on every conceivable level. Sure, at the time there were plenty of mechanical phone conversations and shallow email exchanges. Friends offering heartening words, asking concerned questions but nothing, no one, really scratched through the veneer of my stiff upper lip and my “getting back to usual” appearance. “Oh, I am OK,” I said, “I had an acquaintance or two who worked at the restaurant, but no one I knew really well (I found out later I was wrong)...just taking it day by day.” but I was NOT taking it day by day. I did not take it at all...it was taking me. For ages, I felt like I was being crushed by an enormous weight! I wrote,

It (what is “it?” is it grief? pain? sadness?) washes over and through and around me, surrounds me and sucks me down; drowning me in a bottomless sea of sadness and loneliness! I hate my job, I love my job; I hate New York; I love New York; I miss my family; I don’t want anything to do with my family - all they do is die and get sick or make me feel bad that I can’t (won’t) do more for them. I have no one to talk to, not that I WANT to talk to anyone, no one to listen to me, not that I have anything to say. No where to pour my heart and soul and fears and tears and whines and complaints, and the few small joys when they dare to raise their little heads, as if I would be able to vocalize or physicalize them, as if there really was a heart or soul alive in me anymore and the longer I go, the deader I feel...walking into a frozen fjord, growing number and colder with every step. No one to slap me out of this silly little mood, if that is what I need, nothing to physically, mentally divert my attentions...I have never felt so isolated and lost and small.

Everyone I knew was half a world away, a million miles for what it was worth, with their own lives, jobs, work, email backload, children, pets, car troubles, health concerns etc. and could do nothing to help, save, guide, steer me, I knew that; not that I would take help or saving or guiding or steering from anyone without grievous argument.

I was always a barely-controlled sniveling basket case of scar tissue, snot and blood, but after September 11th, I had to fight even harder to keep that blubbering little worm under wraps. In the weeks before that day, I was surrounded by family and friends in Texas and Colorado, I frolicked in the Canyonlands and drove my purple car 90 miles an hour across Arizona, with the wind tangling my hair into befuddled little snarls, the skin on my arms golden brown, the wrinkle between my eyes all but gone. By the end of September, it was back, and deeper than ever...my skin paled until it was as colorless as my soul, and my first grey hairs appeared. I became a phantom on the subway to work, a ghost on the sidewalk, walking through Times Square, with all the other shadows. We all wept on occasion. In this ashen world, did we finally really see each other? Instead of protecting personal space on the train, you could almost feel the person next to you leaning in, drawing support and warmth from your own broken and fragile body....as tears rolled silently down my face, I felt a hand touch my arm....but even so, I was so terribly alone.

I left New York in June, seeking purpose, and more creative opportunities, to find a real relationship with a man, to drive my car and get my stuff out of storage. I like to imagine I am better now. I no longer dwell on the events of the day, try not to conjure up the pictures etched on the back of my closed eyelids, for when I do, I remember that I have only a fragile grasp on control, and even that is held together by the tenuous threads of my logical mind. My irrational mind still wants to let go and fall. I still want to peel my grasping fingers loose and let my soul take flight. I still want to scream, I want to hit and hurt. I want to scratch my fingers down something soft and yielding, I want to bite down HARD and feel the blood spurt in my throat as something gives in my teeth. I have this caged animal inside of me that is clawing to escape and it is a struggle to keep it quiet. Ice, I tell myself. I am ice, Ice is hard and cold. Ice feels no pain, nor sorrow or anger or fear. Ice needs no fire to survive, and indeed, maybe my internal fire needs to be doused so I will feel less sad, less anger, fear no more, and the bruises of loneliness will heal.

2001 was a dreadful year for my family in general - I lost more family members in the 6 months before and after September 11th than in the rest of my life combined. And even so, I can't forget the thousands of people in those buildings and on the planes! Looking out the windows as they approached the end, snuffed out like birthday candles - poof - now you see em...now you don’t - they were cremated alive - pulverized into dust before their hearts stopped beating, before their voices finished shrieking - and the ones who jumped from towers - I can never ever forget that. At least Granny had a chance to say good bye; at least Aunt Sue got to tell everyone "I TOLD you I was sick," before she died....Which way is better, I wonder....I still wonder

Sigh....all things end, everything dies, a new day will come tomorrow, a new threat, a new fear, and I will continue to hold back - There is no summary, no nice tidy resolution here. I have not come to any pithy realization or found a great soul searing revelation. But at least some of the garbage I have been carrying around in my head for the last 8 years is OUT of me now. Maybe now, the water can flow more easily. My writing always began with good intentions, though I was rarely able to make a good conclusion, but perhaps that IS the conclusion. The end just IS, you can't predict or plan or devise the end. Maybe this isn't the end, and maybe a day will come when I can more adequately express what I am trying to say.....for now, I will just remember to keep trying to remember why life is so damn important and all the economic woes and health care crises and the financial meltdown and the car repair stuff, and the ruins of my latest relationship, and every thing else, really don't matter.

Flavors Take Flight

I am alive...and I want to go to Hawaii.....So go vote for my recipe, please!!!

Flavors Take Flight

On vacation

I am on vacation in France and Italy...in case anyone was wondering what happened to my blog. Not that I am the most prolific of writers anyway.

Now am waiting for the lady I am staying with in Vingtmiglia to get up and make me some damn coffee...the day is gorgeous and I am ready to GO....just need some coffee!

Photos soon...ciao

Value

• Parts from the junk yard salvage and recycle center:  $100
• Paying my deductible and getting the salvage title: $700
• 1/2 gallon Bluebell Homemade Vanilla: $3.99

• Friends like C who did all the labor for free (and who will get a nice gift card and all the Taco Bell he can handle for his trouble):  PRICELESS

 

My purple pansy of a car now has some fire, some machismo, some cojones.....it is no longer the androgynous "purple car" - I need a new name for this bad boy.

And to think insurance TOTALED it?! I just don't get it. Sure, the fender is the wrong color, but even if I have it painted, it will STILL cost less than the Actual Cash Value! The $100 bought a  fender, the tire liner, a wheel cover, a rear view mirror assembly AND a tail light (mine had been cracked for years). I am gonna walk away with enough money to buy a couple of tanks of gas!!

Eating me Up

I was in a fender bender a week ago today. I had gone to the gym and was on my way home, and cut the corner into my alley a little too short, or so the cop who wrote me the ticket says. I maintain that had SHE slowed down, instead of barreling out into the main road which i was turning off of, she would have avoided me....BUT she didn't even have a yield sign, so I was cited for making an "unsafe left turn."

My car

I took my car to the insurance adjuster...and they totaled it!  The cash value is $2200 (which is actually about $1K more than what I thought they would say), less $500 for my deductible. I can buy it back as "salvage" for $200, so when I get the title transferred over to "salvage," Insurance will give me a check for about $1500.  The alternative was to give me $1300 check to get it fixed ($1800 estimate damage, less my deductible), but if,  when the shop got it up on the lift and found MORE damage underneath, there was only about $200 more 'til insurance would just total it anyway.

I think totaling it SAD, but probably for the best. It is JUST the fender and rear view mirror on the outside, (and my friend says those parts won't be that much), maybe some paint to make it close to the right color, an alignment, maybe a tie rod....so I will have a little left over to pay my ticket, buy some gas, and maybe an extra chocolate croissant while I am in France. (yes, I am going to France, next week as a matter of fact).


On Friday, me and my friend headed out to the junk yards...my first time, WOW....dead cars galore...I can't imagine people walking away from some of these twisted heaps of metal!!  But we found a rear view mirror assembly. My friend put my unbroken mirror in, and for $10, I can at least see behind me. We also found a fender, but it was red, so we are gonna keep looking.

On Saturday, I took it to the tire place and had them rotate and balance and check the alignment...Asked them if the tie rods were OK, and they said they weren't leaking.....I should have been more specific - IS IT BENT, is really what I wanted to know....but you usually get screwed when you are a girl going to these places.....

Waiting on a call now from the guy who might have a fender, otherwise, I am going to get the red one, get it painted, and call it a day...I love my car and am not ready to give it up yet for a new one...It is 17 years old and runs about the same now as it did in 1994.....the six hamsters under the hood are a little grayer, but they still got all four paws on the wheel in the cage!!

Or I WOULD just call it a day, if the BITCH I hit hadn't retained a LAWYER!!! Now, she is claiming whip lash, and even though I have coverage, I am freaking out.  I mean, look at HER car....a glancing brush with my apparently made of glass fender!! Her bumper is hanging down a little bit and there is a dent in the area over the tire (her steering wheel is turned, that is why the tire looks wonky).


The worst part is, she lives on my street and I have to be worried I will SEE her....I want to really cause some damage, but there is nothing I can really do.....The stupid thing is we have the same insurance!!  We each have our own claim and our own legal team already looking into everything. It is silly and redundant for her to have gotten another lawyer, don't you think, or is there something more sinister in play???


But yeah, I am going to France.......more on that later.....

Don't Worry. Be Happy (idiot)

Have you seen this on a Facebook status in your neighborhood?

There comes a time in life, when you walk away from all the drama and people who create it. You surround yourself with people who make you laugh, forget the bad, and focus on the good. So love the people who treat you right, pray for the ones who don't. Life is too short to be anything but happy. Falling down is a part of life, getting back up is living. ♥ Re-post if you agree

Everyone just "loves" that, don't they...everyone clicks "LIKE" and the comments are "OMG, that is so true." and "wow, I love you so much, man."  etc.

However, I have to say, I DON'T agree. You do NOT walk away from the people who create drama, if they are your friends. You don't forget the bad, as if you could...the BAD makes the GOOD possible, for god's sake!.  You aren't just friends with someone because they bring peace and calm into your life. Friendship is BIGGER than that. You take the good with the bad, sort of like a marriage; if you have a real friendship, a TRUE friendship.  You make the effort, and you take the time to WORK things out.

I am very worked up about this, as I HAD what I thought was a good friend here in town, who started saying and posting things like this, and within a couple of weeks, she had literally dissolved our friendship!  Sent me a "break up" email, deleted me as a friend on Facebook, and canceled plans to attend my Halloween party!  She decided I brought too much "darkness" into her life, and we went from talking several times a week, to NOTHING. WTF? I am sarcastic and pessimistic and awfully liberal in my opinions, but I am also liberal in my love, and with my time, and with my energy. I shared a lot with her, I was a good listener for her (and if you know me, you know I am a VERY good listener), I babysat her child, I edited her book, and much more.

I was hurt and upset and even cried about it...what had I done, what was wrong with me...And then I found out she had done the same thing to 2 other mutual friends....though the sting was a little less knowing she had gotten rid of us all, it left us ALL confused and bewildered, wondering what the hell happened!  We all still like each other just fine, and in fact, our friendship is even stronger now!

Look, if you don't LIKE some aspect of my character, that is not enough, not a valid reason to DEL the relationship....sorry....I am a grown up, we talk, we figure things out.  If you are too chicken to talk to me about something you don't like about my character, well, that is just too bad for you.  I have people in my life who value who I am, the way I am...they take the dark and twisty with the goofy and funny. They take my whines and moans, and they share my joys and elation....

I am just not into the pithy, seemingly light and inoffensive sayings like this..you know the type? "Don't worry, be happy" is my most loathed one. I think they are much darker and more subversive than you might think....This type of thinking reduces the value of everything - not just friendship...If you can toss it off as easily as you can get rid of an old out dated television set, or a car that is not the newest and hottest thing, what is it's real worth?  I LOVE my friends. If someone is a "piece of work" to quote one of them, I just accept it as part of who they are, and I deal with it...maybe I limit my time with that person; maybe they aren't someone I can call at 2am, but I am not going to "let them go," simply because they have some darkness and unhappiness around them....

You can't get rid of me that easily.....

To be or Not to be...and to be WHAT is really the question!

I responded to someone who commented on my last post about how my life, and my life's focus seems to be changing, without my permission.  I am trying to find that next step, that next "fun" thing that will hopefully take me out of this mid-life crisis, but as I wrote to her, it is just really hard to make myself FOCUS on something "else" for some reason.  I mean, I have "done" theatre since I was a teen ager.  My family knows me as the dramatic one; i have a multi-page resume that says I "DO" theatre...I have diplomas and awards and stacks of books that say my expertise is in the production of live entertainment of one form or another...It has been what has "defined" me, in conversation (So, what do YOU do?), in my dating profiles (Job?: Creative); even my tax return (Occupation: Director), and so much more...

And now I feel like my very outlines are blurring. I sense my colors seeping out, mixing together, sort of like watercolors that are too watery on paper that is not absorbent enough...I feel like a scribble...

I know no one can TELL me what to do; I suppose medication would be a useful tool....I am sure this is "just" some kind of mid life crisis, but it sure feels hopeless and out of control.

On a good note, in the last week, I have managed to hook up my OWN wireless router; hooked up the adapter to TIVO so now IT gets a wireless signal (the internal analog modem no longer "speaks" to digital Qwest...oh, how I wish I could tell them to go screw themselves like that); AND I got a smart phone....I jumped all the way into the 21st century, from 1994 in one giant swoop!!!  I think these external progresses are a direct and specific desire to avoid the more important internal discussion that needs to be had.....and I cooked, too, twice, this week. If that ain't avoidance, I don't know what it is!!

wordless wednesday

this one's for you Captain Dumbass!

May the Fourth Be With YOU!!!

My take on the death of Osama bin Laden

At an interfaith summit held in Chicago after the events of September 11th, religious leaders from around the world said:

"As we have since 9/11 and the beginning of the war on terrorism: we call for greater understanding; we seek to dispel ignorance; we ask that this be a time of humility not arrogance; and, we hope that all can be mindful of what we have lost." Reuters AlertNet - Muslim, Christian, Jewish Leaders Release Joint Peace Guidelines

I am happy, in my way, the OBL is dead, and now chumming the seas as shark bait, but I am not reveling in the street, and I truly wonder if those that DO, understand what his death represents, or if it is just a BOO YAH, in your face kind of arrogance, the kind of which makes the rest of the world hate us.??

I have chosen to live my life with TOLERANCE and DIVERSITY. Despite having watched the towers fall down out my BEDROOM WINDOW, I still believe that a better way to fight terrorism is NOT to go spread it around the world, but to face it here in our own country where our governments, churches, schools and media are literally terrorizing us into submission - telling us what to think, how to think and WHY we have these thoughts in the first place! Perhaps there are those of you among us who have not experienced the freedom of an original, unpopular, derisive thought....pity...they can be vastly liberating!

Perhaps if our leaders could figure out the answers to WHY those in other countries hate us so much, then perhaps we could FIX what is wrong here before we start telling the rest of the world how it ought to live! - I mean look at our farcical foreign policy just to start... we had no problem supporting and helping Afghanistan, including the Taliban, as long as they were fighting the Russians, but as soon as the Russians left, we tossed off Afghanistan, in the words of a friend, like a used condom! Go ahead, curse France all you want, it is NOT an original thought. People have hated the French for years for their snotty, anti-American attitudes which are perpetuated by the arrogant, rude American tourist, but the bottom line is that they are a free country and we are NOT the boss of them, and they are entitled to their opinions of our actions. Sure, we saved their ass twice, sure they provide arms to our enemies, but to expect, demand, require, loyalty? Puh- leeeeeeze.

But then, this IS America, the country where we blame our schools and those fags and Jews in Hollywood for our illiterate, drug dependent children, where we whine about gas prices as we drive our 4 wheel drive SUVs through the crowded, polluted downtown streets of our nation, where we think we can deny a woman the right to her own body and where a president who loses the popular vote can still be elected to president. God MUST really love America!!
 
Just what is so STUPID or naive or LIBERAL about being opposed to war and the ugly subversive tactics this country uses? What is STUPID or naive or LIBERAL about being disturbed by what we saw happen in the middle east, in Darfur, in Libya, in  Tibet and more and more, and what about what is happening HERE, where the very idea of Free Speech is being challenged?

I am tired...I need a hole to hide in somewhere....

let the healing begin.....sort of

They got him...they got Bin Laden today, as you probably already know, but I needed to write something on this very important May Day - a day to remember.  While the debates and questions are just beginning anew, I wanted a few minutes to just let the feelings wash over me -  elation, not quite "happiness." Definitely relief...whatever the word, this wicked symbol of when my world turned in on itself was GONE...I know the media and Donald Trump will do their best to ruin this speck of joy tomorrow...but I will go to bed knowing one little splinter in the rug burn of my life has been extracted, and for now, no one is pouring salt and lemon juice in the wound.

On a separate, but perhaps related, issue, I went to an audition tonight...the first in over a decade, maybe 20 - usually I am the director, or I am "drafted" into performing, but I had always loved auditions - I always felt totally at ease, cold readings were my forte, and....tonight...I didn't do well; I felt awkward, and ill prepared. I will admit, the play I was auditioning for called for a completely different frame of mind than I was in when I went in.  (I had been listening to Barack Obama in the car before I went in, and I should have been listening to something a little more morose...).

For more than a year now, I have had this little niggling worry that my life was on a dangerous course and that my calling may have shifted....After the last play I directed, something died...the drive and desire to direct, or be involved in any other way was simply gone - heck even to go SEE theatre at some times, was a chore!  I just don't care about it any more. What do you do when your passion of 3 decades no longer makes you happy or gives you a reason to get up in the morning? Is my life now doomed to be just my job and the odd vacation?  

As I was getting out of the car after the audition, the thought crossed my mind that at least NOW I could FINALLY get rid of those 6 boxes of plays and voice books, and scripts and props and costumes that I have been tripping over for ever.  If for no other reason than I could actually maybe put a guest bed in here.....but that feels so superficial...am I really gonna just throw it away? I have an amazing library and collection of STUFF....

ehhhh...like Scarlet, I will think about it tomorrow. For now...Public Enemy #1, the face of Evil, the spectre of death who has haunted my dreams for almost a decade is dead. And frankly my dear, I am damn glad!

Good night....

Almost May? what happened to April?

I do not know how I got here, but here we are, the slippery side of April....I have missed most of the year...oh well...pick me up, dust me off and back in the saddle I hop....er....stagger.

So, perhaps semantic arguments to be won by someone smarter than me, but is "caring" enough? Is simply "wanting" an outcome enough to bring it to fruition? Are "Compassion" and "empathy" the same thing or different?

I find the world has become a truly lamentable place, filled with "beings" who exist without compassion; robots who go through daily routines completely oblivious to the suffering (great and small) around them...I realize the tragic truth that there are many-many-MANY people  who have no sense of "other." All that matters to these beings is themselves, their own moment to moment happiness, (and perhaps extended to their family), but ultimately selfish, competitive, isolated, insulated automatons. These soulless beings'  interest in something is limited to how that something can be applied to their own selves; used to embiggen their lives (thanks for the awesome word, Auds) ...and at the end, what have they GOT that the other has NOT?

Don't know where I read it, but species are not designed to live competitive isolated lives. The ones that collaborate and cooperate are the ones that do better

I definitely believe you can't have empathy or compassion if you don't care, but the other way around is not so touch....Sure, we all go around "caring" for other people - doing good deeds, looking out for their well being, changing diapers (NOT ME), waving to the newspaper seller in the intersection, but is that empathy? Making a connection, and then having the NEED to warm a hearts, and the DESIRE to understand an emotional state, and WANTING to communicate, even without words. This is all much much more useful/important/necessary than merely "caring."

My doctor cares for me, as a fee paying patient, but compassionate? Not so much.  Did he not just stand there, patting me stiffly on the shoulder when I was doing the ugly cry in his office about my 37 year battle with diabetes; My friends with diabetes don't pat me on the shoulder. They REALLY know what is going on, really understand, and in many ways are more useful to me than my "care-taker" (who is actually a bit of a schmuck, and ought to be fired, if truth be told). HAVING empathy can CREATE true compassion. I don't know some guy who was killed in a car accident, but because I can relate to something in his story; where he lived or went to school, or something about his life of family, even if solely within my imagination, I can care for him, about him, and have compassion for his life. 

And that is the thing. I don't believe you can really care for someone else, in pain, in joy, or anything else, unless you can relate to that feeling.....Most people watch tv or movies or theatre, or read the daily paper, or watch the 10 o'clock news, and somehow manage to remain separate from the story - dispassionate; to observe it, almost, clinically.  Then, there are others, far fewer, who are drawn into the reality of the OTHER world, and find pieces to tie directly the their ownselves?

And Hollywood has tapped into that by giving us REALITY TV....that fine line between the observer and the observed blurs into obscurity.....and maybe the NEXT season will feature US!  We could be that family on the desperate housewives of Peoria, AZ!!

If I have to choose, I want empathy...understanding, or simply the DESIRE to understand. I believe honest "compassion" and true "caring" begin with understanding another person, and I am glad I feel enough to cry at commercials and be sick to my stomach during the news. 


So, no, there isn't really a point, and no, I don't care. It IS random Tuesday after all....

A sh**ty tale to tell

Wow, it has been a while since I had time to say anything, let alone time to WRITE anything down. In hindsight, it has been quite the ride for me personally, but I haven't had the energy to organize it into a coherent tale.  I can sum it up with three little words, OH MY GOD, but that doesn't really say anything....so to begin....

End of November - Key West with my mama...she is a tricky dame, and it was tense a few times, but over all it worked out. I was surprised at how nice a time it was, and she only made me cry once or twice, so I count that as a WIN.

December - Work deadlines loom, as well as all that Christmas present buying crap, and traveling to see family and the fake smiles and impossible moods one is forced to have or be called a SOUR PUSS (fuck you too). I spent 3 blissful, Internet and TV free days out at dad's before the onslaught began...and truth be told, that was the last bliss I felt for the next three months!

I was home on the 2nd and left on the 6th for a conference in Michigan. Never one to pass up an opportunity to inflict MORE family on myself, I flew to my sister's, spent a day with her family, then she drove me to the conference which was in a nearby city, but was sadly poorly attended. Back at sissy's, it began to snow the night before I was supposed to leave...when I got to the airport the next day, my flight was merely delayed, then REALLY delayed and finally canceled, so I went back to sissy's for another night.  Highlight on the flight to Denver the next day, I actually sat next to a nice, and cute and single guy. We had lunch at the airport in Denver, then we went our separate ways...and by lunch, I DO mean lunch. (I never had the chance to find out what was WRONG with him, cuz there is always a reason guys my age who are cute and nice are single).

Finally home on the 13th, I had a few days days to pack up everything for my annual national trek for work. I spent the rest of January and most of February fighting weather issues (photo is Central Park), scheduling problems, personality conflicts, and couch surfing. I was in New York, then Chicago, then San Francisco, then back to New York.  I managed to squeeze in some friend visits, and clam chowder on fisherman's wharf AND the San Francisco Aquarium, (love them jellyfsh!) and of course had family working for me in both NYC and Chicago. 

(In the photo at left, that is me, my aunt, my sister, my niece, and a work colleague cutting loose after the day's events - and this is before ANY alcohol or chocolate!)  While in CA, I rented a car and drove up the coast for another conference. As I am enjoying the best falafel I'd ever had (at a strip mall, in Arcata, CA of all places), my mom calls. Grandma is not doing well, so mom was on her way to  Louisiana to see her - and she was in incredible pain in the car. As soon as she arrived, her sister took her to ER, where she was diagnosed with shingles!! Stress anyone?

Back in NYC for a few days, I saw a show and some friends, and my wallet was either lost or stolen somewhere between Times Square and 207th Street.....Stupid cops at precinct #34 were of NO help, no consolation to a sobbing, hysterical lady with NO money!  Gone are my ID, building pass, credit cards, the key to my car, my National Parks Pass, my health insurance card with my social security number on it, my Medic Alert Card, my STUDENT ID, which was the golden ticket to getting discount tickets everywhere, and last but not least, $450 cash I had been given at Christmas, and which I was going to use THAT weekend to buy an Ipad or a Nook or something like that.  The nicest person I met all day was the subway guy, who let me in without charging my metro card, after I counted out the pennies and nickels I had in the bottom of my purse to scrape together the fare to get to my office (where I had some cash)! 

So, I spend a last weekend hating New York, and then sob my way through the TSA, without an ID (and NO grope this time!!!!) and get home towards the end of February. I spent the next week replacing credit cards, putting a fraud watch on my social security number, and trying to figure out how to get a new ID without having to actually become a resident on AZ.  I said last rites to ALL of my plants that died while I was gone - (and when I say ALL, I mean every fucking one is a brown stump of organic matter.  They are all still out there...I water them once a week.  I can't believe they are all dead - maybe a little water and sun will help???) And MAN is the weather nice...such a change from the pissing rain in Northern California, and the SNOW in New York!

March 1, I am about to head to Atlanta for a conference, followed by a relaxing (?) bus ride up through North Carolina to see friends and family, culminating in DC for another conference.  Mama calls; she had just gotten home 2 days earlier and THEN grandma dies. She was 93 but still I am heart broken - she was one of the rare few who "got" me.  I stay up all night, rearranging all of my plans. including a frequent flyer award ticket to get me to Louisiana from Atlanta and then back to Washington, so I can meet my work obligations...my Greyhound tickets are, of course, non refundable.  

Atlanta was a bit of a blur - I saw some cousins, and a friend I hadn't seen in 20 years (I love Facebook), but I lost my jump drive, and yes, as a matter of fact, it DOES have a scan of my passport AND all of my unused Groupons on it.  I left Atlanta and flew directly to the small town where my grandma lived (I figured if I was gonna spend a buttload of points, I might as well get all the way there, even if it meant a propeller plane, rather than renting a car in Houston).

It was horrible, simply ghastly being in that house with my sister and brother and their families.  My grandma had lived in the same  house since well before I was born, and there is a certain smell, you know what I mean...and certain places in the house, and special items...and I cried for about 24 straight hours - Mama wasn't there yet, obviously.  The tears stopped when she arrived, (she has that incredible ability to make me angry enough to stop feeling bad...but not for long).  Then my aunt destroys EVERYTHING!

My  mom has two younger sisters. Aunt T, who is the youngest and Ain't D, who is the middle.  Ain't D TELLS mama and Aunt T that her OWN lawyer has been looking at the will and there are some CHANGES to go over, and things are going to be DIFFERENT...and all this happens right before the viewing. My mom and Aunt T are distraught - the will has been around for decades and always said the same thing! Mom is still suffering with the shingles anyway, so this is NOT a pleasant situation.  Ain't D, my fricking GOD MOTHER, (who I have made significant efforts at maintaining our relationship over the years, though she has all but alienated herself from everyone else in the family),  separates herself (and her live-in "room mate" - yes, we all KNOW she is gay, but she will never come out and admit it);  she doesn't come to the huge family gathering AFTER the funeral. She commands that NO ONE remove anything from the house (all the cousins ignored that at our mothers' insistence - we all went over and selected a couple of things we wanted as mementos. I got the Archie and Veronica jelly jar glass from when we were little kids, as well as a couple of other meaningless things).

So Ain't D has found a loop hole in the Louisiana code that entitles her to a portion of the property Aunt T and mama inherited (it is called Succession if you want to look it up). Basically property doesn't go to a surviving spouse, it goes to the children, so when grandpa died 40 years ago, technically, his HALF of the property actually belonged to his three daughters, and even though Grandma "left" the house to my mom and the flower shop to Aunt T, she only left HER half.  So Ain't D is claiming her 1/3 of the grandpa's half - and is telling my mom and Aunt T that if they DON"T buy her out (to the tune of about $30K EACH), she will SUE them. Neither has 30K to just hand her, so both will be forced to SELL their inheritance to pay her off!  

In addition, NONE of the contents of the house can be divided up cuz the estate is now in probate!  Even though Grandma specifically said certain things went to certain people. For example, the grand piano was going to a cousin; the Dining room set that was my GREAT Grandmothers, that my grandma got expressly for my mother back in 1978; a chair my great grandmother left ME but it stayed at grandmas for thee last 30 years.  The CAR was supposed to go to ME to, I have been told (and saw it in Grandma's notes), cuz Grandma hated my old car!  And in fact, all 6 grand kids have CDs, in our own name that are now frozen with the other assets. Ain't D wants to sell EVERYTHING and get her third.  She doesn't give a dead rat's ass that everyone else in the family wants to keep these things in the family! The china my Great Grandmother brought from Italy...the silver set.  (I absconded with a spoon from the set, so Ain't D won't be able to sell it as a complete set - HA!).  And where the hell is ALL of grandma's jewelry???

AND for a little bit of lemon in this paper cut of inequity, Ain't D inherited two income generating properties Grandma owned free and clear of Grandpa, which means mom and Aunt T have ZERO claim on THEM...So basically Ain't D makes out like a bandit to the tune of almost 1/2 a million, while Mama and Aunt T, AFTER they sell their inheritance and pay off Ain't D will come out with about 100K!!!

So, in the middle of all this falderol, Mama has another attack of Shingles.  I never thought I'd have to see my mama's naked butt, but my sister and brother were already gone, and I couldn't exactly leave her there writhing in pain, (could I??).  So I  kindly and gently tended to her...and she barked and screamed and tried to make me cry but I persevered and catered to her and made her eat and drink and take her medicine. I even called 911 for her one morning when she was sure she was having a heart attack.  The ER doctor said it was just anxiety (DUH - I had been asking someone to give her a Valium since she arrived, or at least give ME one). So she gets a prescription for something mood calming, and Aunt T took over, and I escaped headed to Washington for my other conference.

Oh but wait, first, I got sick in the middle of the night the day before I left. Now, I had not been sleeping anyway, between shuffling from couch, to houses, to sleeping on the ends of beds cuz baby nieces spread out quite a bit. since it is the single, childless person who makes adjustments in these situations (right?), but I wake up at 3am and I am definitely SICK....I am sitting there on the potty trying to puke quietly in the trash can, while trying to silently shit liquid out of the other end, and sobbing that I can't call out for my mommy, who is in the next room covered in pain patches and zonked out on vicidin.

So, I live through the last day without eating a thing and gingerly get on a propeller plane (adter being GROPED at the smallest airport in America -  literally 3 gates...and I am "randomly" selected?  Was it the vomit bag in my hand that gave away my treasonous thoughts).  My friend, a former lover, picks me up. I was staying with him on  his boat, which kinda worried me, cuz I am not INTO  him like that anymore, but he assured me he had two berths and it was no problem...Well, first off, he decides we are going sailing with some of his friends....I had not eaten anything in going on 48 hours, and he stops at McDonald's, so I have some nice greasy fries to quell the insurgencies in my belly and we get on the boat...I pop one of mom's Elavils (OK, so I snuck a couple - I deserved them) and pray for calm water. Yeah, it was so calm we had to motor half way from Mt. Vernon back to DC...it took 7 frickin' hours to go less than 10 miles!  Once we finally got off, and got back to HIS boat, i was definitely not feeling good...AND he only technically had ONE berth.  The other one was really a shelf he was going to put some clothes on to sleep....I said he could sleep in the berth...and spent all night praying i neither snored or puked or farted.

The next day, he had a brunch and I begged off, so he dropped me on the Mall and I shuffled through the Natural History Museum and around the Washington Monument. I SO wished I felt better!!  When he picked me up, we went to the American History Museum so I could see the Red Shoes from Wizard of Oz, then we drove to Annapolis for dinner.  I ordered soup and salad and picked at it.....back at the boat, there was definitely intestinal distress going on, so i went to bed, and he stayed up playing on his computer...about 1am, I woke up, sick. I begged him to let me go alone to the dock where the toilets were, but he was gentleman enough to not let me wander  off in the dock.....god damn it, I just wanted to let my intestines DO their thing and i didn't need some GUY there listening to me....So I puked several times instead...not that I really had any control over that. 

So, restless sleep ensued, don't care what noises I made and the next day he drove me into town where my hotel was....I checked in and have never felt so happy to be in private hotel room in my entire life!

The next 2 days were spent "on the hill" in meetings, which is kinda cool and I was definitely feeling physically better, and even managed to meet up with my FBI guy cousin for a cider at an Irish pub; but the gravity of the drama with Ain't D was finally hitting...she really robbed me and my family of our time to grieve for grandma. I know some day it will really hit me...and I get little snatches of it every now and then, but there is so much to do here that I really don't allow myself the luxury of wallowing, like I think I need to do...

Instead, I have thrown myself into serious body modification.....22 pounds in 13 weeks....I have a high school reunion coming up in June. So, I have been working my ass off for the last week, and not one single ounce on the scale! I mean, I did 4 miles on the treadmill on Saturday AND 4 miles on the actual road on Sunday and yet, NADA.....I got a trainer Groupon and he better help me see some results, or i will just have to explode.....

and now you are where I am...Where the hell did the first quarter of the year go? How did I get here? This is not my beautiful house? You are not my beautiful wife? My beautiful car needs work, or I need a new one...I need a new phone. I need new plants.  I want to hide away from it all....

So....anyone?  i would love to hear your comments...Don't you think this would make a GREAT movie?  I can't see how it ends yet, but it better be good.....

Post script:  Sunday night, I get a call from my dad, he leaves a message to please call him as soon as possible. When I reach him, he is in an ambulance on the way to the hospital....He feels the way he did when he had his heart attack in 2000....and he has been throwing up....Turns out he has vertigo, which apparently runs in our family - we are all a bunch of Busy Ditches.....but COME ON....enough is enough...I didn't think I was gonna sleep that night but thank god for chemistry....He is still drugged up today, trying to get some head scans, MRIs and he is such a hard headed cuss, he might just blow it all off....AGHHHHHHHHHH

My grandma

my grandma died today.....She was 93 and lived a full life - she didn't suffer at the end, and now she is with my grandpa who died more than 40 years ago...and her sisters and her baby brother...and best of all, no more old biddies to cheat her at bridge! She would have loved dying on 3/1/11...she had a thing about numbers...had three siblings, 3 daughters, 2 of whom had 3 children....

I had no words before to fill this useless blog...and I really still don't,  but I wanted to tell the entire world how sad I am, and how much I will miss her.