Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Crazy Bitches

Crazy bitches. The subject keeps coming up, it's one that has baffled me for most of my life. Yes, I am a girl, but for the most part, I do not understand a majority of my gender.  Being an only child and a self proclaimed daddy's girl, I have been a tom boy all my life.  I preferred hot wheels and remote control cars to barbies, I liked playing in the dirt as opposed to serving tea, and I liked sports more than dance.  In grade school I was friends with two girls, they were the most RUTHLESS bitches I have ever met.  As soon as high school hit, and the pool of friends widened I dropped them (and most girls).  I hate cattiness, I despise gossip, and most of all I really cannot stand back-stabbing- which eliminates most girls.  So, most of my close friends have been boys- I have accrued a gaggle of 'older brothers' throughout my life- we are family, we are loyal and fiercely protective of one another.  Since the marriage and family waves have hit, I see some of them less frequently, but friendship is not defined by face time.

I have happily welcomed most girlfriends and spouses- if the chick makes him happy, I am all for it.  Some girlfriends and wives are cool with it, others are weird and jealous (for what reasons- I am unsure). But, in recent years I have watched several of my boys go through A LOT of shit because of whatever girl was in their lives.  I have watched crazy custody battles with my friends fighting for their rights as fathers, completely fucked up divorces, I have seen financial turmoil bubble up, simmer over, and explode.  But most of all, I have seen some pretty awesome, sincere, genuine, dudes get fucked over because suddenly the chick becomes a loose cannon with no regard for anyone but herself. And it makes me angry.

What happens to these girls to make them crazy bitches?  Trust, I get that we all have our own terrible moments, but what makes someone wake up one day and say- you know what? I don't want to do this anymore. I get that people change, relationships end, life goes on.  But what makes someone become so ugly? So mean and vindictive? What happens to turn an adult into a child? Why do people think that it is okay to decide- well, I am discontent and unhappy, so I am going to make sure everyone else is too?  At what point do these bitches wake up and become adults?! Or maybe they don't.  Maybe they will spend their whole lives always wanting what they do not have, running around- wreaking havoc on the lives of those around them... I really don't know.

What I do know is that it doesn't have to be that way.  Break ups can happen without nasty interactions.  People can part ways and be cool with one another- maybe not best friends, but they can be amicable instead of hateful.  Unfortunately, it takes two to make it happen.  Most of my friends who have gone through this have done so with an amazing amount of grace and dignity, considering how the other party acted.  And for that, I give them props.  I give any person (guy or girl) props who can see past the end of their fucking nose to realize that nothing has to be dramatic and ridiculous.  That no matter what, there are other people in your life besides YOU!

I get angsty when I have to stand by and watch shitty things happening in the lives of good people.  I know they will make it through, and will probably be better people for it in the long run, but damn it- why can't we reverse that paradigm and watch shitty things happen in the lives of assholes?!  I know, that statement is a bit vindictive in and of itself, and I really don't wish actual harm on anyone, but sometimes I think a little gulp of their own medicine would be nice.

And, for the record, although I have been burned by some crazy bitches myself, I do not hate all girls.  There have been a few in my life who have showed me that I am not the only non-crazy bitch.  There is a glimmer of hope in the vast wasteland that I sometimes feel is the female gender- in fact, it could be that we are the silent majority.  I suppose crazy bitches and bad boys make for better conversation.  But sometimes, at least in my case, I need to be reminded that they are not all crazy bitches and dumbass dudes.  There are good people out there, we just need to stick together.  So, to all my friends who have had their struggles with crazy bitches and dumbass dudes-  not everyone is a card carrying certified nut-case, or a stupid, selfish, son-of-a-bitch. 

It's not about superior morality. We all have our flaws and fucked up things we do.  It's about holding the interest of yourself equal to the interests of others in your life.  It is not hard to just stop for a minute and think about how what you are doing may impact the lives of others.  Do we all make mistakes? HELL YES.  Do we have to be an asshole every waking moment? No.  It is simple- live your life, own your shit, and treat the people in your life with a little respect.  I  vowed some time ago to be as vocal as possible about crazy bitches.  I refuse to consign stupid behavior with silence.  Am I going to personally confront every person I think to be a crazy bitch? No, but I will keep living by example.  I am not special or perfect, but I am honest and up front, something a few crazy bitches I know could stand to learn.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

17 Going on 30

I had this idea that I would write a post about turning 30 before my birthday, and well, like a lot of shit last week- it was slipped under the mental mat.  I haven't posted this entire month, and for good reason- after a whole fucking year of contemplation and learning lessons and awareness and all the other shit I have been working on, I chose to take a mental vacation for the entire month leading up to my 30th birthday.  I jokingly said that I was going to live the entire month as though I were 17 again- and I did. Sort of.

Many of my friends got all weird about turning 30, they dreaded it, they bitched about being old, some got depressed, some just acted like it wasn't happening.  Not me, I was excited! I have been done with my 20's since I was 19, and 30 seemed like a welcomed change.  But somewhere, subconsciously, I guess I was a little leery of it. The mental vacation came to be without any conscious choice on my part- I realized it a few days into it and instead of scolding myself, I chose to ride the wave.  I decided to quit with the mental regiment of "what the fuck are you doing?" "what were you thinking?" and so on, and instead took a huge dose of fuck it.  And, I am not gunna lie, getting the fuck its every now and then is pretty fucking sweet.  It's been nice not to analyze or think much- although some of that happens just because that is the way my monkey mind operates.

I will say the idea of living like I was 17 again was pretty intriguing.  15-17 were the among some of the best years so far... although I am now pretty sure some of that can be attributed to better living through chemistry.  I learned a couple of things about myself in the last month- First and foremost- I am TOTALLY NOT 17 anymore.  Holy cappicola, all nighters are a little more difficult to rebound from now.  When I was 17 my entire sleep/wake cycle was chemically regimented- and while I will say that 5 hour energy is a fucking god-send, it is so not the same!  Secondly- I used to think that there was no room in my life to get the fuck its and give myself a break- now I realize that this is actually imperative occasionally.  I was reaching the end of my patience with myself and now I realize why- because I hold myself to some pretty fucking ridiculous standards sometimes- standards that are often impossible even for me to reach.

So, Friday was my 30th birthday, and I have to say, I had a pretty fucking awesome time.  Surrounded by some of the most bad ass people I know, having fun, raising hell- I have been piecing the night together through various conversations since!  It meant a lot to see most of the people I truly care about all in the same space.  That night, I realized that I have some pretty awesome friends- some that have known me since I was 17 the first time- and trust me, if you knew the asshole I was at 17, it's saying something for those people to be at my 30th birthday!  Some I haven't known as long, but all of you fucking rock my Hanukkah socks! You know who you are, whether you were present that night or not, I love you guys!

But the night also helped me to see crystal clear some things that I have been avoiding up until that night.  I am finally ready to 'clean house' and rid my life of a person or two that I have been allowing to drag me down for far too long- probably since I was 17.  I like to think that I am a pretty fucking awesome friend, and sometimes I think that makes me a target for soul suckers.   But in the end, I am the one who allows my energy to be sucked.  I have let it go on for far too long, and as usually happens, I have to say- big-brother-from-another-mother, you were right YET AGAIN.  Damn it, I hate admitting that so often, especially to you, but it's necessary- and thanks, for loving me enough to let me learn the lesson on my own.  As many times in the last year or five that I know you have wanted to just shake the shit out of me and tell me what I could only recognize on my own, this lesson is sealed and solid now- it is not a points system, but it FUCKING IS!!!! And that realization makes 30 that much more fucking awesome. I don't have to live as though I am 17, I think living as though I am 30 is going to be much, much, more fun :)

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

The Lady with the Letter Press

I had a conversation tonight that reminded me why I started this blog- so I could keep a virtual record of  some of the thousands of things that scurry across my mind daily.  Not all of those things are important, and of those that are important, most are probably of little to no interest to most people.  But I started this blog because I realize how cyclical life is... how (at least I) wander around in different incarnations of the same patterns.  I constantly find myself lifting my palm to my forehead, ala Marc from Empire Records- "Wait a minute! Wait just one minute!"  And in that moment of waiting I realize- I've been here before.  No, not like I have been on this planet before in a past life (although I don't entirely dispute that idea), but more- I have been in the midst of this pattern, learning this lesson, at some point in my life, prior to the present moment.  Those ah-ha moments I babble about- they dissipate, they fade into the routine of day to day if they are not nurtured and cultivated- and this blog is supposed to be a record of those very moments so that I do not completely loose them when I get distracted by the next bright shiny that comes my way.

ADD, it's been a buzz word for years, it's like the blanket diagnosis given to children whose parent's cannot or will not deal with the idiosyncrasies of their child.  Or it's the excuse adults give when they don't want to expand the power and capacity of their thinking.  Truth is, we all have a little ADD in us- we all get distracted from whatever the task at hand may be by the next bright shiny. And I am absolutely no fucking different.

Seems like the idea of permanence and attachment have come up in various conversations quite a bit lately.  I am the first to proudly profess that I have little attachment to the 'things' in my life.  If my house burned to the ground tomorrow, it would be sad- but not devastating.  If my car was wrecked, or my wallet stolen, it would be a pain in the ass, but I would (as I have in the past) deal with it and move the fuck on.  People are a different story- I have yet to be able to apply the principles of impermanence to the people in my life.  I wouldn't say I have truck loads of super close people in my life- and I am good with that, it is by design really- but there are a few who mean the world to me- if/when something happens to them, it will be pretty fucking devastating.  Along the same lines- I care very little about what MOST people think of me- but there are those few whose opinions mean much to me- more than they should really.

Ya see, by not grasping the impermenance of EVERYTHING in this universe, I have left myself wide open for certain struggle.  The current struggle is this- because I have in the past cared so much about what those few think- I am stuck in this crazy pattern in the here and now.  What I think about what other people think of me (follow me here, I am getting to a point!) has wrapped me up in this WARPED idea of reality.  For example- these people want me to be happy, my brain's translation of that is that these people want me to be happy in the ways that they find happiness.  Error! Alert! STOP.  I cannot be happy in the ways that make them happy- I have thus far lived a 29+ year experiment, proving this hypothesis wrong to myself infinite times along the way.  The meat of the matter is that I can continue on this pattern of-do what I think they want, be discontent, rearrange, lather, rinse, repeat- OR I could just figure out what in the flying fuck makes me happy, do that and be done with it.  It's so god-damned simple a two year old could do it- and they do, before they open their mouths and swallow the shit that we are fed our entire lives. until one day when we decide that we are finished eating shit.  Maybe we are 20 (not likely at that age).  Maybe we are 30, maybe 40 or 64 or whatever.  Point being- there are multitudes of chances for us to realize we are eating shit, it is up to me make the decision to stop eating it- So this blog is the birth of that realization, and the record I keep so that I do not forget that this particular struggle isn't without good cause.  And as I was so graciously told tonight- it will get easier.  For my PEACE of mind, I sure fuckin hope so! 

Thanks L.P. for reminding me of what I have known all along, and occasionally forget...much love to you.

Monday, November 28, 2011

Magical 68 and the Hickory

It has been said that I am a snob about certain things. And, I suppose that it is true to a certain degree.  I believe life is too short for shitty coffee, booze, and food.  I also believe that there is much to be said about the nuance of experience in certain places.  I'm not a complete snob- I will bend on somethings- well, except coffee. I won't drink shitty coffee, if there is no good coffee to be had I won't drink it at all.  Whatever, we all have our quirks.  Anyway, since I posted about my obsession with hole-in-the-wall bars, I thought I would take a minute to post about food joints as well.

I spent ten years waiting tables.  For some, this may be a bit shocking, but I LOVED it.  I loved interacting with people- going to the table, gauging the group, putting on whatever personality I thought fit and working it. In the little town I grew up in, there were only a few job options for 15-16 year olds, and most involved restaurants.  For a lot of that period in my life, I worked at one chain restaurant- and we were like one crazy family. We hustled our asses off and had a pretty good time doing it for the most part.  We were tight-knit, and there were a lot of us.  When your shift was over you sat down in the smoking section, drank coffee and hung out.  After closing we would all drive down the street to the other chain restaurant in town and hang out there. Ahh, small town amusement... Pots of coffee and packs of cigarettes.

One summer, I left the comfort of the chain restaurant and went to work at a truck stop about 15 miles out of town. This was a MUCH different environment, in so many ways.  For one, the extent of the ALL employees at the truck stop would have rivaled the number of servers we ran on a slow afternoon at my old job.  There were never more than two servers on at a time, there was no busser, no cashier, no hostess.  There was a cook, a dishwasher and one or two servers. That was it.  Oh, and did I mention that it was family owned and operated? I was one of two employees not from the same gene pool...(this later turned out to be the curse that sealed my fate there, but that's beside the point.)

People came in and sat at the nearest available table, clean or not, and you hustled from the moment you walked in the door.  There was nothing fancy about this place, it was CHEAP home cooking at it's finest.  Pearl, who was in her 90's at the time, came in at 4am every morning and baked all the pies from scratch.  We made the coleslaw in 5 gallon buckets.  The local beef farmer delivered the meet fresh every day, and Friday night all you can eat perch was the most popular occasion for 20 miles.  These people had not reinvented the wheel, they had just been filling a need for decades and had built a HUGE loyal customer base.

So what, your asking... So, to this day, I remember that place, and that feeling when ya walked in the door.  And I find myself seeking out that type of experience wherever I go.  I like beautifully prepared, fresh, fancy, food as much as the next person- well, maybe more in some cases.  But if I walk into an establishment and immediately feel out of place it matters little what the food is like.  The wine list can be exceptional, the food elegant and delicious, but if the vibe ain't there, well... it kind of ruins it for me.  In fact, I have realized that it sometimes the food has NOTHING to do with it at all...I love dumpy hole in the walls that have one badass bartender and one superior server.  The bartender is know for one drink, which she makes better than anyone else in the world, and the server tells you what to order because she knows what's good that night.

There is a place that a few of my friends and I frequent in town- they have been loyal patrons for decades, and I have only recently stepped into the fold.  The first time I went I was taken aback a bit by the 70's decor.  It's dark and dingy in there, I would venture to say the original wall paper still hangs on the walls.  As you walk in, all you see is a big horse shoe shaped bar and a bartender.  Saddling up to the bar, I asked what was good and Faye, the bartender insisted I hadn't lived until I had had her cosmo. My friends eagerly agreed with Faye, and so I obliged and ordered what I considered to be a fru-fru drink.  I could NOT have been more wrong.  What Faye produced was the STRONGEST fru-fru drink I had ever had- problem was, she made that damned thing so well, I was not completely aware of how strong it was.  And let me tell ya, they go down so smooth, it doesn't take long to get yourself in trouble.

After a cosmo or three, we are seated.  Our server is a sweet woman- in her late 40's maybe, she has long hair pulled back in a pony tail and a very friendly face.  From the conversation I take it that she's waited at this fine establishment for possibly as many years as I have been alive.  I like her, she is spunky and quick witted, and she knows the menu backwards and forwards, and she will tell you EXACTLY what she thinks of everything on it. This particular place is known for their barbque, especially their ribs.  The people I am with ALWAYS come for the ribs, they crave them.  My snobbery is immediately apparent. I am not sold on the ribs. I am not a big fan of meat on the bone, especially the kind you have to really gnaw at- if it doesn't fall off, it's a no go.  She kneels down beside me and gives me her honest opinion about this and other menu items and then composes an order for me. 

Truth be told, if I had come on another day, with other people, had a different server and a different bartender, I don't think I would have ever given the place a second thought.  But the people made ALL the difference.  And, it is true, NO ONE makes a cosmo like Faye- no one.  I like the Cheers atmosphere, walk in the door and everyone says hullo.  And I like the dark, dingy, ambiance.  I like that so long as Dawn is serving I don't have to make up my mind, she will bring me whatever is good on that particular night.  I like that they have secret menu items like 'special potatoes' which are not really on the menu, you have to ask for them. I like that they serve the salad in the same plastic bowls we used at the truck stop, and that the bathroom is always inexplicably cold or hot, depending on the season.  I like that I could go in on any given night and sit at the bar with a bunch of people my parent's age and have a far better time than in some stupid, trendy bar down the street from my house. So, yeah.  Maybe I am a snob about certain things, and I like that too.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

The House, the Box, and the Beginnings of the Solids

Ok, as promised, today, the experiences that go with the list.  It all started a few years back.  I had just moved to a new city from a super small town. Day after day I drove by this house, and never thought much about it- hell, I never noticed it really- until one night I went out with a friend, he chose the bar since I was still new to the area and didn't know much about where to go or what to do.  We pulled in the parking lot (one of those classy, parking in rear joints), went to the door and he hit a buzzer.  "What are you doing?" I asked, a bit confused. "They have to buzz you in." He said.  No way! This couldn't be true! But, sure as shit, the door unlocked and we were let in...

Inside it was dark, and dingy, and small, really, really, small.  There were two other patrons in the entire place, one sitting at the bar, dragging on a cigarette and making small chat with the bartender, and the other playing a one man game at the pool table.  I gathered from the conversation my friend had with the bartender that the place used to be a residence and at some point was converted into a bar.  That's right, it was a converted house. This explained why it was so small, and is also the reason it became known to me and my friends as the house bar.  The house bar has a real name of course, but what name could beat "House Bar"? There really isn't much else to tell about the place, other than the drinks were strong and cheap, and the bartender was friendly and there was rarely more than 4 or five people in there at one time.  How the place stays open is a mystery to me, while I still pass it often, I have not stopped in in years.

Something about the House Bar peaked my interest in the 'off the beaten path' watering holes.  I like going to places (be it a bar or a restaurant) that are small and quirky, especially the kind that have not yet found their way onto the 'favorites' list of the masses.  The next dive encounter wasn't for a couple of years, but it was, in different ways, just as fulfilling as the House Bar experience.  As I said in my previous post, many of these places have their own reputation, based on the neighborhood in which they are situated, so this particular place, nestled deep in the east side of town, was known to be a red neck hang out.  The word box is in the name, and how fitting the name is, this place is SMALL, I mean teeny tiny, and it's just one box shaped room.  If I remember correctly, there were maybe 4 or 5 tables in the whole joint, and maybe 10 seats around the bar.  Walking in, I immediately got the feeling like I had just walked into a crowded house party... it's wall to wall people, and there is a sign listing what's on the menu for supper.  No, it's not a restaurant, supper is prepared by the bartender, generally in a crock pot, and offered up to the patrons-for free- on any given night, weird right? Upon saddling up to the bar, ordering a drink, watching the bartender free pour what may be the strongest rum-with-a-splash-of-coke I have ever had, and then paying her the bargain price of $2.50, I now understand.  They have to feed their customers, if any of them are expected to walk out on their own accord...

The walls are covered in pictures, literally wallpapered.  Upon closer inspection, I can see that many of the photos have the same man posing with different, topless women.  A sweet, middle aged man, with a permed mullet and very few teeth notices me sorting through the visual cacophony on the walls and informs me that the man in the photographs is the esteemed owner of the establishment and that the women are all past or present patrons.  Mr. Mullet and I strike up a conversation, he's a construction worker, a veteran, and has some serious opinions about 'Nam.  I skirt the war talk, even though it is not yet 7 o'clock on a Wednesday evening, he is already very much intoxicated and I don't feel as though I have much to add to the 'Nam conversation.  I cash out, worried that Mr. Mullet might have driven to the bar and would hence be driving himself home.  "Don't worry about him sweetheart." The bartender says, as if she reached in my brain and plucked out my thoughts. "He lives next door, comes in every night after work, and leaves after happy hour.  Come on back and see us again sometime."  She says with such a thick hillbilly twang it's impossible not to like her.  I accept the invitation and assure her I'll be back as I walk out the door.

And, I did go back; several times in fact.  The little Box was my favorite hole in the wall for a while.  Cheap drinks, friendly people and ALWAYS interesting people watching and conversation... and, I can say that some of the redneck, white trash stereotypes were true.  There are many east side-isms going on at the place.  Most of the people who go there are working class Americans who work hard and play hard- the average age in that place is probably somewhere between 45-55 and the juke box is jam packed with country and classic rock.  Mullet is for sure the hairstyle of choice, and sweat pants and acid wash jeans seem to be the preferred fashion.  Nope, not your typical hipster joint indeed, but a good time nonetheless. 

Eventually, the novelty wore off I suppose, and I set my sites on discovering a new hole in the wall to experience, and then another and then another.  I usually set my mental sites on a place and stew about it a while.  I wonder if what people say about the place is true, what's it look like inside, who holds the bar stools down night after night?  The next place I infiltrated was a bit of a cheat, it's a hole in the wall from the standpoint that it's a small town bar... most of the people who go there are from said small town, and it's patrons indeed fall into their own particular stereotype.  Many people from around town wouldn't be caught dead in there, and yet, others go every weekend or even every night.  I wanted to check this place out more because I had grown up with the idea that this was not a place I needed to go... WHY NOT? I asked, and the answers were always vague and unsatisfying... and well, when I am told I should not go somewhere my curiosity about the place becomes almost insatiable.  For weeks, months really, I pined to see the inside of the place.  I begged people to go with me... I bribed them even! But to no avail.  Until one night...The night the Solids were born.  There are tales to tell about this night and those that followed and the making of my small town list, but alas, these are stories for another day and another post....

Monday, November 7, 2011

A Different Type of Culture

Anyone who knows me knows I have a thing for the dive bar.  I live in a city where most of the "it" places are concentrated on one, very short, street.  All the cool kids hang out there, on the weekends most of the bars are crowded with 20 somethings, parading around in a hipster haze, drinking over priced PBR, and barely breathing in their skinny jeans.  It exhausts me to think about it really... my days of dressing with whatever fashion is in went out the window with the popularity of 32 inch bottom JNCO's, and I refuse to drink something that reminds me of what a skunk smells like.  Similarly, while I do own a few pairs of stilts disguised as shoes, I refer to them as my 'dinner shoes' for a reason- they are bearable just long enough to go to dinner, come home, and take them off. So needless to say, while I will still occasionally grab a drink with a friend in one of those "it" places, it is most often at happy hour on a weekday, before all the hip kids come out for the night.

The dive bar is different... each has it's own subculture, they are generally small, neighborhood watering holes, the same people go to the same place, day in and day out.  The unspoken rules have been established for years, decades in most cases, and for the most part, everyone follows them.  These are not the places you go for a fancy-pants martini or a scotch on the rocks.  You won't find a craft beer in sight, and most of them offer only cans of beer for reasons that vary- bottles are more expensive, they can be used as weapons, etc.  Anyone who knows me also knows I am a beer snob, life is too short for shitty beer, and if I can't afford a good one, I prefer not to drink at all- same goes for booze... with all that said, you'd wonder why the hell I would venture into these seedy joints, where the premier beer offering is Budweiser, malt liquor is a mainstay, and I am fairly certain they refill their top shelf liquor selections with well.

Truth is, there is SO much to learn about human nature in these places... well, in bars in general... they are great places to people watch... and, since I have already exhausted what the masses do at the hip little joints down town, I find it intriguing to venture out and observe other little veins of the bar culture.  It's tough to do, since most of the people I know would rather stay in the comfort of familiarity than venture into the places I'd like to experience.  I can't blame them really, none of the places have a 'good reputation', (although, I have determined that much of the bad wrap these places have, helps to keep them small and unadulterated).  It's just another piece of what fascinates me about the whole thing. To me, these are the things that male the dive bar so evocative.  I guess I should say that I do not go into these places looking to fit in, it is never my intention to stay in any one bar for more than a drink or two.  All I need is enough time to sniff out the vibe of the place and then I am happy to saunter out in much the same fashion I sauntered in.

What can you learn in the span of one or two drinks you ask? Well, a lot really, in fact much of what I learn, I learn before I ever walk through the door.  Often times when I see a place, I will ask around about it... has anyone ever been there? What's it like? The answers to these simple questions are often quite amusing, especially after I go in and experience the place for myself... many a tall tale have been told about these places "Don't go in there, you will get shot", "You will start a fight as soon as you walk in the door", I could go on, but you get the picture.  It's interesting to note that when it comes to small, hole in the wall bars, racism and classism are alive and in full effect.  That's a black bar, that's a biker bar, that's a white trash bar... all I could think was, really people?? It's like that?  Unfortunately, to some extent, it's true.  But ALL of us feed the stereotypes.

So, you can see how getting into these places is a bit of a task.  I don't go alone, because I don't go to any bar alone, no matter how trendy or divey it is. And who I go with to these types of places is an important decision, not because it matters so much who I am seen with, but it matters a lot who can go in and be respectful.  People are very protective of 'their' bars... especially when said bar is small, with predictable clientele.  When I started getting into the whole dive bar thing a few years back, a very wise friend offered some sage advice- I was frustrated that no one would ever go with me and that the main excuse was that I, being a girl, would start a fight just by walking in- my friend said... "First, it is rarely a woman who starts a fight in a bar.  Most often it is a man who feels as though his ego has some how been accosted... if you go into a place and recognize that you are on someone else's turf, being polite and respectful, everything will be fine."  And ya know what? She was right.  So even if I could get an adventuresome friend to agree to go along, it won't work if they are hot tempered or ego driven.

But, every so often, the stars align, I am in the right place at the right time, and I get to check a couple more places off my list... yes, there is a list, it is a mental list, but a list all the same.  It is categorized into geographic locations and is amended frequently.  The town I grew up in has the most for such a small area- 5 to be exact.  Before this weekend, I had two of the five checked off.  After this weekend, I am happy to report, that only one remains.  Both of the bars I went to this weekend have been labeled 'east end' bars, which means something altogether different where I am from versus where I live now.  In the small town I grew up in, the east end is another way to say black... nobody ever explains it that way, it's just assumed; whereas in the city I currently reside, I live on whats referred to as the "east side" which is inferred to be the 'white trash' side of town. You can imagine that these two places have entirely different kinds of dive bars, each with their own nuances, cultures, and clientele. 

I hadn't intended to ramble on with such a long background about the list or the ideas behind the list, so I will save the bits about my actual experiences for another post... perhaps later today or tomorrow... but do come back, these are interesting topics if you are at all interested in the way we humans interact; we are certainly one of the most amusing species I can think of, and you never know, maybe one of you will change your mind about what you think of the dive bar... This life is after all, all about experience right? So, why not try to broaden your horizons every once in a while eh?

Monday, October 31, 2011

525,600 Minutes Pt II

Taking a retrospective look at the last year seems daunting. It's daunting, but necessary.  A year ago today I began a journey I had begun many times before, the difference this time is that instead of taking a step forward and ten back I took a few more steps forward.  Up until a year ago, I could have been described as a serial relationshipist.  For nearly 15 years, I swung from one long term relationship to the next. 2 years in one, a year or two in another, three here, another year, four, and so on.  Most often said relationships were ended by me, and every time a  relationship came to a close I would vow to take some time to really look at myself, figure out who I was, get grounded, blah, blah, blah.  And every time that proved to be a false statement... within a week or a month I would be well into my next deal.  Each partner was different... VERY different.  Polar opposites really.  One was too controlling, the next was too smothering, then too detached... BUT, let me just mention from the start... they were all great in one way or another, they each taught me something about myself, each of them handed me a piece to my puzzle, even if I could not see it at the time.  This is not a post about my ex lovers, but I think it important to mention credit where credit is due.

After a year alone I have come to realize some important things.  They aren't universal truths by any means- but they are truths for me.  Truths that have been here all along, it is only now that I am starting to recognize them.  First, when a relationship ends, it is necessary to put some serious time in with oneself... something I NEVER did before, no matter how long or brief the period in between partners.  I spent all free moments outwardly focused so that I would not have to evaluate what was going on inside me.  And even when I was in a deal, I did everything I could to busy myself with others so as not to upset the delicate balance of unrest in my head... I would throw myself into my partner's interests or concern myself with the lives of friends or family, or work, or school.  This resulted, shockingly, in failed relationship after failed relationship, and a whole lot of confusion in my own mind.

So, when this last relationship came to it's end, I swore to myself and to those close to me that this time it would indeed be different, that I was committed to myself and would start to cultivate a personal relationship with myself- it's sounds stupid and new-agey even as I type it, but it's true, and that is exactly what I have done in the last 12 months.  I have thought and wrote, talked and listened, cried and laughed, taken 2 and 3 steps forward, and then one or two back.  I have looked so hard at myself my vision blurred, I have concentrated so hard on the lessons in front of me I nearly missed them.  I have made mistakes, won victories, gotten sick, gotten well, been better and been worse.  I started becoming vulnerable, for the first time in my adult life.  And slowly, like maybe in the last month or so, the fog surrounding the enigma that was me has begun to lift... I am starting to actually see me, and see the way I look at and interact with me.

About a month ago, I was chatting with a friend and her mom about health and what that means, specifically about loosing weight... something I have done more times than I care to inventory.  My friends reasoning for loosing weight was to get healthy, her mother agreed.  I said  that I wanted to loose weight so that I would not hate what I saw every time I looked in the mirror- seemed a reasonable enough answer to me, but apparently not.  At once, both mother and daughter snapped there heads around to look at me, as if I surely must've been joking... and I still didn't get it.  "What?" I asked.  "Surely you don't hate what you see every time you look in a mirror!" The mother gasped.  "Well yeah, I do." I said, beginning to feel as if I may have given an un-fit answer, but still super puzzled.  I thought everyone attached their self worth to what they saw in the mirror...

And so, I took the whole conversation home with me that night, and I let it all sink it.  In the morning I awoke with a strange epiphany-like feeling...  "I hate myself?!" I thought.  "Wow, I do.  I hate myself.  Holy fucking shit.  I hate myself!!!!"  It seems a bit emo to be so excited over discovering one's own self hatred, I know... but this was big.  I had never really and truly grasped that concept, or what it meant in the context of my life... the self hatred was the result of a lifetime of pre-programming and brain washing.  Subliminally, I had soaked in all of those ridiculous messages the media throws out for us to catch... The perfect woman looks this way, acts this way, and on and on.  It's freaky that all of this propaganda got to me on such a deep level I wasn't even aware, I had essentially bought into the hype without ever having made a conscious decision to do so...And let me add that this is not some "Woe is me, I hate my life" sort of thing. No, this runs much deeper, so deep that I did not even know it was there until I began clearing the mental clutter I had collected to hide from myself. And further, while on the surface, to me this issue appeared to be about outward appearance, a closer look has revealed that it has nothing to do with the way I look on the outside,  if I do not get right with the way I feel inwardly, than my appearance to myself will always be distorted.

But now, things are making so much more sense... now I am beginning to recognize what was going on all those years... I used relationships as a way to validate who I am as a woman, who I am as a person... I used the relationships to feel needed, wanted, appreciated, and loved.  Talk about looking for love in all the wrong places!  And all the while I knew something wasn't right... I never felt particularly fulfilled, in fact- most often I felt like a foreigner in my own skin... because I was seeking all the right things in all the wrong places.  I knew I needed to develop a relationship with myself, but never knew how or why really. And this isn't a bad thing... there is no one to blame, I am not furious with the media or any thing.  I am really just happy to have finally cracked open this window.  It is time to air out the back logs of my brain!

Over the last year I have many times felt as though I was on the edge of a big break through, I have written about it many times, but I was never clear on what the break through was or where it would come from... now all the puzzle pieces I have been collecting are beginning to snap together. In the spring, I made the realization that tough bitch had to go, and began making an effort to soften my outer shell.  Not long after that, I discovered my wonderwall and had to begin dealing with the dismantle of my own Fort Knox like defenses- these were hard tasks, hell they still are, everyday; and now I am starting to see how all of these things are interconnected to this self hate thing... All the defenses, all of my personas, my whole being, had been carefully crafted by me to protect me from me... crazy huh? Seems as though now that all of that heavy lifting is out of the way, I could perhaps call it done.  Lesson learned, moving on. 

Not so fast... I am to the point now, that I am beginning to see the relationship between all of these pieces... the awarenesses I have been making are now layering together to reveal something bigger, so no, I am not finished.  In fact, as trite as it is to say, I have only just begun.  I am now tasked with dismantling the belief system I have created and reorganizing how I think of myself... In order to really make a lasting change in my life I will have to start looking at how I talk to myself, how I treat myself, and how I conduct myself with others.  I now get that I have a frightening lack of self esteem... all of those defenses were built to mask that, both from the world and from myself.  It's a little scary how much the human psyche resembles an onion... layer built upon layer, built upon layer, and they all have to be tended to if I am truly to flip the script in my life. 


So, here I am.  A year later, a little more aware, a little more awake, and A LOT more eager to continue on.  This solo thing is the toughest thing I have done so far in life, but it is also the most rewarding... knowing is half the battle, and now I know so much more than I did.  There's much work yet to be done, but I can honestly say, 365 days later, I am happy with my progress, I am proud of myself, and I am grateful for all of the growth opportunities that I have had in the last year.  It's funny how long I waited to understand this lesson, how hard I have struggled to see the obvious, and how empowering it is to FINALLY GET IT.  This may take a while, this whole learning to love me thing, but I can already tell how worth it it will be in the end... the only partner I need, and the only one I can truly rely on, is the partnership with myself.  And me and myself, we are finished playing against each other, we have joined the same team and have already begun training together.  It's won't be long, we will be dominating the court of our life :)

Monday, October 24, 2011

525,600 Minutes Pt. I

Things have been super crazy hectic lately, but they are starting to slow down a bit... I have been thinking quite a bit- I know what your thinking, does this chick ever DO anything?! All she does is hammer on about thinking! And, for the most part, it's true- I do spend a lot of time swimming around in my own mind... but I do think it leads to productivity... at least some of the time.  It just seems as though right when I am ready to sit back and rest on my laurels something comes up that requires me to perk back up and pay attention. 

Things topping the contemplation list of late- being a big girl and the struggle involved in standing on my own two feets.  Taking responsibility for me and my actions, learning that humble pie is not one of my favorite meals, but is sometimes a requirement that comes with being a big girl, and- perhaps most importantly, having gratitude for all of the above.

Last week I was very blessed to take a trip to Sin City with some of the BESTEST friends a girl could ask for, it was fun, but seriously mentally exhausting!  Getting to hang out with friends and do fun things was no doubt awesome, but as I suspected, that place is like a visual and auditory energy sucking vampire for those of us who get our recharge from that quiet place within ourselves! Now, don't get me wrong- there are many, many, beautiful things there, and it is for sure one of THE BEST places in the world to observe that infinite possibilities of human behavior.  I could have have easily spent the entire trip posted up on the strip or in a casino just watching people... but needless to say- I was more than happy to get home to my bed and the sweet, sweet, sound of silence!

Anyhow, the trip and the whirlwind of weeks leading up to it led me to this contemplative state... a week from today will be perhaps the most important anniversary I have celebrated thus far in life.  The 31st will mark a full year of being single.  Some might moan and say how sad it is to be single, others might think it no big thing to be single at all.  But for me, this is a milestone.  A year of hard work.  A year of not settling out of fear.  A year of stepping forward, and backward and forward again.  A year of loneliness and despair.  A year of triumph and joy a year of getting to know the most important person in my life... a person I had long ago written off.  A year with me, just me. 

I have learned a lot in the last year, there have been as many Ah-ha moments as there have been damn it moments, but they have all been powerful in their own awesome or painful ways, and in the last few weeks many of those moments have begun to crystallize into cohesive lessons for me.  I plan on committing some of those moments and lessons to text in the coming days, but for tonight I think I will go to bed, alone and happy... thanks to all of you who have helped to reel me back into reality over the last year, those of you who listened, offered advice, let me cry, and all of you who in general helped to foster and facilitate my growth, this leg of the journey is far from over, of that I am well aware, but I think the up-coming mile marker is worth at least a post or two in reflection and certainly worth a more than a fleeting mention of gratitude.  Love to all of you, and as I am still learning- love to myself.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Coming Soon: The Crazy Cafe

For some time now, I have been thinking about diving into a second blog.  Not that I am abandoning this one,  this will still be the space where I babble on about my wonders of human happenings.  But I have been thinking about starting a food blog... I know, how many food blogs are out there right? I am pretty sure the number hovers around eleventy billion... and I would never profess to have a newfangled idea... I am not looking to change the face of food blogging or make crazy waves.  I just thought it would be nice to have a space to keep record both of what I cook and eat. 

I will admit to not being the savviest blogger... this is part of the reason I have pussy-footed around launching a new blog. I don't know how to put fancy piktars up or to use links or any of that technological stuff that remains an enigma to me.  I am NOT my father's daughter when it comes to technology... my dad is a technological geek--and don't get me wrong--I LOVE him for that (that, and a trillion other things of course), but- having that sort of assistance at my finger tips has made me a bit of a nit wit when it comes to all things technology related.  Hell, I quit taking pictures on my camera when I realized they wouldn't just beam to my computer.  I didn't even begin really using email until a few years ago... I have crashed EVERY computer I have ever owned.  At almost every place I have been employed I am eventually banned from using the copier.  I cannot make the DVD player work without assistance from my young and savvy roomie.  Alright, I think you get the picture.

SO anyway... I have been a little gun shy about the food blog, but I think it is time.  I would say cooking is one of two mediums I have for expressing myself (the second being writing, hence the willy nilly blogging:), and I suppose it is time to give the other medium it's due.  So, it will for sure be a work in progress, but I hope to have it launched in the next few weeks... the basic idea is that I will post about things I am cooking as well as reviewing any cool places I eat... I am hoping that by posting what I am cooking it will help me to become a more disciplined cook... BAHAHA! Who am I kidding? Let's just see if I can launch the damned thing first, then I can make lofty goals and promises that I may or may not fulfill! 

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Mr. Jones and Me

"The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself" -Anna Quindlen

A couple weeks ago I had a talk with each of my parents individually.  I don't remember how each conversation started, but they were both about the same sort of things.  Both my dad and my mom said they just really wanted me to be happy.  They both want me to find my place.  I agreed with them- not that I am unhappy so to speak... but I would say that I am discontent and that I have been feeling unfulfilled.  It was really nice to have the chance to speak freely with them.  I love my parents, I think that has been pretty obvious throughout this blog.  My parents are definitely amazing people, I respect their opinions, I look up to them, I am proud to have them as my parents, and I want little else in life than to be the woman they can be proud to call their daughter. (You can call me sappy and lame, that's alright.  It is the truth.)

I mentioned feeling a little like a failure to them both. Many people my age are now settled into careers, marriages, and many have children.  I, on the other hand, have come through the last decade with very little to show for it. I have some of the 'things' on the proverbial check off list- I have a job, two in fact.  I have a house. I work, I support myself... blah blah blah.  I like my jobs alright... although they are like any other I have had... I have been at these two particular jobs for a little over a year and I am beginning to feel stagnant.  There are no opportunities to move up at either and they are just beginning to feel stale.  My house is kind of the same way- it is a fine enough house, but I am ready to go somewhere else, do something else. I am about to finish out my first year of being single in my adult life, and that too is beginning to get old.  I am ready for a change- all the way around.

Of course, my parents are my BIGGEST cheerleaders.  They re-frame the way I look at my 'achievements' and try desperately to help me figure out how to find fulfillment in what I have.  They are concrete and solution oriented... something I WISH I could be right now... something I think they wish I could be at times as well... My mom said "You have always been the one to do things your own way, [the hard way]- but you have always figured it out, and you will figure this out too." God love the woman!  There was a time when they were both so frustrated with the way I bang my head against the wall until I figure things out- they both tried desperately to teach me another way throughout my adolescence, but to no avail. The patience these two people have had with me my entire life is truly immeasurable-miles and miles more patience than I have ever had with myself- and I love them to bits for it.

I shared with my mom that it seems as though I have been stuck in this rut of fear for a while now- probably since I dropped out of grad school.  I know that dropping out was the best decision for me at the time, and I do not regret it for even a moment, but it has set off this unsureness in me.  It's like I have an idea of what I want my next move to be, but somewhere along the way I lost the ability to be sure of myself... I swim around with all of these fears and projections in my head about what could happen if I make a decision... It is not that I think I cannot do option A or option B, because if there is only one thing I know about myself it is that I can and will do whatever it is I set my mind to.  It is more abstract than that- like what if I pursue this one thing that I think will make me happy, what if I make it happen, pour my heart into it and then come to find out it is not what I wanted either?!  I know how ridiculous that must sound to some people- but it is a real and paralyzing fear to me.

Then I start really thinking.  Wait a second dumbass- I am pretty sure that this true happiness and fulfillment you blabber on about constantly comes from WITHIN you- and once you have that, there will be a natural sense of contentment, and you will be happy with whatever you are doing where ever you are doing it. I have written extensively on the importance of doing the work on myself, but I am not sure it set in until I read the quote above... it's the work of BEING myself.  It's giving up on this perfect image of what I think my life should be, because that image is what is holding me back from what my life is- something to enjoy and embrace.  My mother reminded me that there are no mistakes, only experiences to carry forward.  I know there are others out there who struggle with the same stuff... maybe not all of them stammer on about it in a blog, but I think we all go through the types of things that I share on here... which is why I am not embarrassed.  I cannot apologize for my humanness.  But I can embrace this life and share it.

I had a visit from an old friend this weekend and she flipped the ole 'life is short' cliche for me- "Life is long." She said, very matter-of-factly.  And I must admit, I agree.  Life is long; therefore we mustn't cheapen that experience by sprinting through it, we will wear ourselves out far before the 'finish line'.  Equally notable, we cannot trudge along at a snail's pace so as not to disturb that image of perfection. Instead, take the time to drink in every drop AND enjoy every interaction... I have to remind myself of that constantly...I am where I need to be, and I will end up right where I am supposed to... I am not now and never will be a 'Jones', so why drive myself insane with the apples to oranges comparisons?

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Polarized

Last night I caught a glimpse of one of those entertainment shows.  They were talking about Chaz Bono being on Dancing with the Stars.  I could really care less about the show, but was happy to hear that he was on- that it was good step forward for someone who is openly transgendered to be on a prime time show.  The clip they ran was of a woman saying she thought it was wrong, and that it would send a confusing message to children.... and I have to admit, my blood started simmering a little-

What's more confusing lady?!!! Ignoring people who are different than you and trying to 'shelter' your children from, oh- what do you call it? Oh yeah, that's right, THE WORLD! Or explaining something to your child?  I am so sick of people hiding their ignorance under the guise of protecting a child. STOP IT. You lady, you are a part of perpetuating hate and misunderstanding.  By you not dealing with whatever issues you have, you are handing down this sense of intolerance to yet another generation.  It's funny, because these are the same people telling their children that they are special and unique individuals who can do anything in the world, so long as that anything doesn't involve anything "too different", Oi vey.

Perhaps this is why Planned Parenthood funding is in trouble as well- those evil bastards... spreading the free love and safe sex message.  Don't you know sex is never safe?! Unless, of course it is in the confines of the sanctity of marriage- between one man and one woman... and the man's gay lover that he has on the side because he has been conditioned to hide his homosexuality as it is a sin and he would most certainly go straight to hell if anyone ever knew about it, which is why he married a woman and had 3.2 children in the first place- to try to cure himself, being gay is wrong, or at least that is what his mommy and daddy pounded into his head as often as possible throughout his childhood.  Oh, and don't forget about the woman's lover that she was forced to seek out after a decade in loveless marriage which she committed to so that she could keep up with the Jones's.

So, I stewed on this most of the night, and I woke up this morning trying my very best not to be angry.  Then I got in the car to come to work.  As I am tooling down the road, listening to NPR, a story comes on about the views of some of the GOP candidates for presidency.  I am half listening when they begin to talk about Michelle Bachman's 'jokes' that God is sending Washington a message with the recent hurricane and earthquake in DC.  They then go on to play clips of other GOP candidates dismissing that we humans have anything to do with global warming, and further, that perhaps we should not be spending so much money on scientific research for a 'theory' that has not been proven! Bloody hell, you have got to be fucking kidding me!

Firstly, isn't that what research is about? Proving a theory? And secondly, how fucking much evidence does one need to believe it?! Then I start thinking about all the funding that is in danger of being cut- PBS for one.  Right, why should we fund something so frivolous as educational programming?! Especially when they have such silly shows as Nova- a show about science- which means it is obviously about unfounded theory and unneeded research.  Yes, yes, let us keep the masses sleepy and pacified with their cable T.V. and interwebs...

The scariest part of all this, to me, is that some people will hear these things... and BELIEVE them, and worse yet, they will vote for them.  I do not generally speak on politics, but for some reason I cannot get this crap out of my head.  What am I going to do about it? Well, I don't know yet- all I know is that silently disagreeing may as well be agreeing. I am not ok with yet another generation swallowing the shit they have been trying to feed us for years.  Obama is not the problem with our country or economy.  Neither can we blame Bush.  It is not the Repulicrats or the Democrins.  The problem is US!!! The citizens, we are the reason we are where we are right now.  The only freeing thing about that assertion is that- we then, are the only solution as well.  If only we could get people weened off the teat of power and corruption and start them on a regiment of education and open mindedness...

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

All Aboard the Hamster Wheel...

Finally, the inspiration to post struck me today!  There has been a great many changes and shifts going on in the last few weeks and I guess I haven't had a whole lot of words to put with them until now. 

First, I will say that a very wise person offered some incite into how I have been processing things and it created a shift in my thinking.  I have mentioned before that I categorized people in one of two areas- thinkers and feelers; it has been my opinion that thinkers process information in a very pragmatic 'this is the way it is' way and feelers take a more emotional approach.  Upon further examination, I am realizing the error in this approach.  I was attaching incorrect meaning to words (as most of the world does).  Emotions are sensory and uncontrollable, and there are only a few to pick from- elation, rage, and deep sadness.  These emotion come over you like a wave and are as fleeting in their departure as they were in arrival.  That being said, most of what I have attached the 'feeling' word to is actually a thought, as we are all thinkers and feelers to varying degrees.  What I was calling feeling behavior is more aptly described as introspection, thinking about things deeply and intricately, almost like getting on one of those hamster wheels and running non-stop in your mind's eye.

What the hell does this matter you may be wondering? Well, at least for me, this has added a new lens of clarity as to how I operate.  And, I am learning to look at this introspection as a gift rather than a curse, although I will admit that it is tough to do some days.  Some days I would like to turn off the old thinking cap and look at my world in black and white... except I know this is not possible, so the only choice I have is to embrace it.  And, since I started this blog pledging honesty, it is necessary to admit when I am wrong... that is, after all, the only way to learn, right?

Going back to the conversation I had with the wise person- a few other a-ha moments came from it.  It was (again) pointed out to me that I walk around with a really hard shell surrounding me... and she went so far as to guess when and how the shell originated.  Much to my surprise (and dismay) she was right.  To be fair, I have been told dozens of times from different sources that I am intimidating- and to an extent, I was aware of this (Re:Tough Bitch).  However, I had NO IDEA how long I had been carrying around this persona, not to mention what triggered it initially.  I'll save you the lame story, but needless to say, this goes back for decades!  This is incredibly frustrating to me... I pride myself on life happening for me as opposed to it happening to me, and if there is one thing I cannot stand it's the victim mentality.  And yet, here I am, staring 30 down, operating on that very paradigm I cannot stand.

I was told that until I get rid of my anger, I will never get to where I want to go (or to anywhere near my potential).  That, my friends is scary. It is scary to know that while I have a mask for every person and situation (I am not unique, we all do this to some extent), I also have one for myself looking in the mirror.  This is getting sticky now.  How do I peel that mask off? How do I extract the defense mechanism I have used against me for me for decades, and for most of the time without even knowing it?  All I can say as of now is that there ain't no going back folks. I try so hard to be genuine (at least with those who matter to me) and I am now realizing that I have not been genuine with myself, let alone others.  That doesn't mean everything about me or all the interactions I have had with people have been disingenuous, it more means that I can always dig deeper. I can always peel off another layer of the proverbial onion.  And I am glad for that opportunity, because while it has never been my aim for everyone to like me or to view the world as all puppies and rainbows, it has also never been  my intent to make people uncomfortable or for them to feel threatened because I am intimidating due to not dealing with my own stuff.

I think we can all agree I take the long way most often, but that's alright.  I may not get it right away, (whatever it is), but you can trust and believe that I WILL get it eventually.  And if there is one strength that could at times be my greatest weakness, it is determination, I will continue to attempt to get it until I finally do.  Until that day, I am going to jump off the hamster wheel more often, and laugh at myself as much as possible!  Life cannot be taken seriously all the time- that is boring and, more importantly, it is exhausting!  If you haven't lately, step outside of yourself for a moment, observe yourself and the way your are with other people, take note and then have a great, big, deep, belly laugh at your own expense! It's refreshing, trust me :)

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Closed Doors, Open Windows.

Since I have been a bit gloom and doom lately, I thought it high time I do a happy/grateful post. 

So, to start, I am grateful for all the little struggles the last few months-and they have all been little-even if they have felt overwhelming.  I am finally to the point where I think that I am ready to make some big and necessary changes.  I am finished spinning my wheels, feeling stuck, and acting like a powerless victim.  By the end of the year I will have begun looking for a new job and will be setting plans in motion to make all the things I want to happen in my life come to fruition.  I am on the upswing and have a good amount of confidence that I will make it happen.  Struggle is never for nothing and it is certainly not forever.  Although I will say that I know making these changes will come with new and different struggles, but I welcome the new challenges. 

A few weeks back, I was surprised and humbled to find out that a trip I had desperately wanted to go on would be happening due to the INSANE generosity of friends- and for that I am incredibly grateful... like beyond words... like I have never received a gift on such a crazy scale.  And the awesomeness and gratitude doesn't stop there.  My best friend from high school moved to California 11 years ago.  In that 11 years I have seen him 3 times; with the last time being 3 years ago.  We talk on the phone all the time, but- come on.  Talking on the phone is just NOT THE SAME!  Anyhow, when I found out about this trip, my brother from another mother suggested I contact my friend and see if he could meet us. And guess what? I found out this week that he and his beautiful wife will indeed be able to meet up! I AM SO EXCITED I cannot really explain it!

So, this week I have been forcing myself to stop looking at the door that just slammed shut in my face and instead climb through the window that was open right next to it.  So far, it is working.  I have poked my head through the window, and I will say- the skies are clear and blue and the landscape is lush and green.  Now, all I have to do is hoist myself up and slink on through.  I generally spend so much time staring at the closed door that I never notice the open window.  The window is pretty high up, so I will need to whip myself into shape to get up there and through- but it is certainly doable with a little conditioning. And, it just so happens that at this point I have a fair amount of free time to devote to it.  So all I can say is- YAY!!!! Yay for struggles, setbacks and victories.  Yea for having a clear enough mind to finally exit the pot I have been stewing in and begin a new endeavor.  And, most importantly- yea for friends who love and support me along the way- friends and family continue to be the most integral pieces of every success and victory in my life. Love you all!

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Snooze Button

So, I told myself that I would give me a week to get over myself.  Seven days to be sad, angry, depressed and whatever other unproductive emotion I needed to feel.  I have gone through the spectrum, although mostly I have been angry, and mostly at myself.  I absolutely will not own all the blame in this situation; however I have to own my part.  And in weak moments I do indulge those thoughts- why does it seem like I am always the one looking at my shit? Why do I have to stand here, knee deep in 'damn it'? Why can't I be the one who goes on about life like it never mattered anyway? And then, I come crashing back to reality and realize that I CHOSE this path, I chose to look at my shit, I chose to be aware, I CHOOSE to grow, and that means I am obligated (to myself) to look at my part, and even though sometimes I just want to go back to that state of being blissfully un-aware, I cannot.

Each time I want to focus the blame on another- any other, in any situation, I am cheating myself, out of the opportunity to learn.  Oh it feels SO GOOD though! It is so much more satisfying (in the moment) to pick someone else apart.  I want to shred the other person's shortcomings to bits, because I know how good it would feel (in the moment).  However, this is pretty much doing what I have always done.  In any situation where  I feel as though I have been wronged I want to immediately lash out and blame, and it works for a bit... but then I have to deal with dragging around a huge sack of resentments, which ends up being a gigantic pain in the ass... And anyways, all of that blame and anger does not fit in with my belief that we are all right where we need to be and we are all being presented with the opportunity to learn life's lessons at each moment... It is my choice to grab hold of my lesson just as it is anyone else's choice to either grab hold of or ignore their own lessons... and it is not my place to tell someone else what they need to learn, because in that breath I am loosing the opportunity to learn for myself. And let's be honest, I have a hard time recognizing my own lessons, learning the same thing multiple times before I get it, so I couldn't possibly know what others need to learn.

If I were to do what I have always done, at this point I would pack this experience away in a box and shove it as far back into the closet of my mind as possible.  I am tired of dealing with it and just want to be finished with it.  Unfortunately, I know all too well how that shakes out... it will come back to haunt me at some point in the future, in all it's skeletal glory... and I will be MUCH more annoyed with it then.  So, I am giving this particular lesson it's due, in hopes that I can finally see a lesson through to total fruition for once!  I have finally made a commitment to myself and I intend to keep it.  Everyday I get closer to knowing exactly what it is that I want, and doing this sort of work and being this kind of honest with myself, however painful and humbling it may be, is pretty much the only way to get where I want to be in my life, I think.

Anyway, as we should all know by now, life doesn't stop because your having a bad day, or your pissed off or you really want/need a break.  Nope, this is usually when life kicks it into high gear, and I am not special when it comes to this life paradigm. My brother from another mother and his amazing fiance are moving today, to Columbus.  In 15 years, he and I have NEVER lived more than ten minutes apart.  We have always been able to meet up on a whim if we wanted.  He has, for the longest time been the person I call when I absolutely do not want to talk to another soul on the planet.  He's got one of THE MOST optimistic views on life, he is a cheerleader and a rock, he is the voice of reason (although, I will admit to not always listening to that reason) he is a thinker and a pragmatist.  And the best fucking friend anyone anywhere could ever dream up.  And he somehow managed to find a girl who is completely his equal in wonderfulness! The two of them are so unbelievably solid together that there is no doubt in my mind that this move (although difficult) will be awesome for the two of them.

I am happy for them, beyond words.  Better things could not happen to two better people, no doubt.  And of course, in my usual selfish way, I am sad they are moving out of town.  I am really sad, and scared too.  I know, I know, everyone has said EXACTLY what you are thinking right now- it's only an hour away, geeze.  What's the big deal?! Well, the big deal I am realizing, has little to do with the two of them.  It has to do with me not being able to ignore the fact that they are making things happen in their lives- so, I can sit here and cry about them leaving and feel sad and left out and whatever other silly feeling that has danced across the stage of my minds eye in the last couple of months, I can complain about how all of this crap is happening at once and that it is just too much... I cannot handle it... BLAH BLAH BLAH...
It's all so repetitive it makes me sleepy.
OR

I look right in front of me and grab the lesson.  All of these things are happening at once so that I will WAKE UP from my 8 month slumber of laziness and coasting and I will start making shit happen in my own life.  This after all is the only option... If I am bored or feel stuck or whatever it is...I am the catalyst that can change it or I can be the glue that permanently affixes myself to that settled in spot.  I have every fucking excuse in the book as to why I cannot do anything other than what it is that I am doing at this present moment in my life... I am stuck in my house because the market sucks... I am stuck at my job because I have too much debt, and on and on and on.  Unfortunately, I am aware that in any given situation I am both the problem and the solutions, therefore, I have got to change the way I think about things. And NO ONE is ever stuck unless they choose to be.

I have tended in life to be a pessimist, especially when I get lazy; but in the last year or so I have noticed myself getting annoyed with that trait in others and in turn being more aware of it in myself.  Oddly, this is awareness for which I can credit Facebook.  Reading pessimistic people's status updates on a constant- the most popular- "I'm bored", to the more dramatic "My life sucks" has made me acutely aware of the correlation between outlook and outcome in life.  If your bored, DO SOMETHING.  If you think your life sucks, CHANGE IT.  Sure, it takes a bit (and sometimes a lot) of effort, but at least then your busy living instead of dwelling on shit.  So, yes. I gave myself a week to get over myself, but this has been building for a long, long while, and I think I can safely say, I am over it.  I have a list of things that I need to get busy on and I finally have the fire under my ass to do them. 

The two of them moving is going to be hard, it is already sad.  It will change a lot of how our friendships operate.  And we ALL know how much us humans love change ;) There will not be too many 'lets meet up for a beer' nights through the week.  And the chances of she and I going grocery shopping together are pretty slim. Unless Monday is a holiday, wasted Sundays will most likely be a thing of the past as well. And all of these things and more are the silly little things I cherish and have somewhat taken for granted in the last year.  I could sit and think only about the stuff I will miss about them being 10 minutes away FOR WEEKS!!!

But, as my brother from another framed it the other night- "you know, this doesn't have to be the worst thing.  It could be awesome."  And, as is usually the case, he is right.  It could be awesome, it could ALWAYS be awesome.  Even if it sucks, it can still be awesome and THAT is what I want. AWESOME.  Thanks for reminding me chief, sometimes I need it and I always appreciate it.  These little wisdom nuggets are why I love you.  Well, that and the fact that you always fight the urge to say I told you so even though I deserve it (often)! So here's to the two of you and your awesome new life- if nothing else it has already inspired a ripple effect, I will no longer be hitting the snooze button on forward motion. I love you both.



Monday, August 1, 2011

Pieces of What? Part II

Well, the experiment has come to an end. To recap- the experiment was to take a situation where I would attempt to make my feelings objective... In essence I was trying to see if I could think my way through my feelings as opposed to feeling them.  It was a seriously difficult task. I found myself falling from object to subject often, but tried to be persistent and consistent with the effort.  What I can say is that it was a valuable experience and lesson, what I cannot say is that I was entirely successful.

So, lets start with what I gained: Perspective- TONS of it. More than I really wanted, but probably as much as I needed.  I can directly credit this experiment with exposing my wonder wall to me, as well as the need to pay attention to it and do some work in that area.  I am reminded that all humans (not just me) are fallible, that we all make decisions based on whatever data we have on hand and that data is subject to each person's interpretation.  So what I may interpret as positive feedback in the experiment, another may interpret as something negative- or even more importantly, the other may not interpret the data to have any significance at all.  Communication is key, without it both people can interpret the same experience in different ways so that one person works with the information at hand in one way, the other goes the opposite direction and then the experiment is inherently flawed; as ended up the case with this experiment.

Also worth noting about my shifting perspective- when I realized that the experiment had ended, I went with my default reaction- anger of course.  And, to be fair, I will admit I am still angry.  Before this experiment I would have immediately shifted into a vindictive and mean spirited reaction, without even a thought.  And while I have thought about all of that- substantially- I have not acted or rather reacted I guess, in my normal manner.  The fact that I  have actually thought about it at all is actually pretty big for me.  I am not sure if it is just me or human nature to react in anger when you feel hurt or wronged... maybe it's just me; but what I had to realize is that I willingly participated (and really, designed) this experiment. I do not get to pout when the results are not in favor of my original hypothesis- I have to review the experiment, the methodologies, the findings and then draw appropriate conclusions from there.  I knew there was a reason I hate science!

The experiment was never really scientific to begin with, I know that.  Taking a situation in which I am already involved and trying to reverse my feelings to objective anything was doomed from the start.  I do not regard this as a failure; sure, I proved myself wrong and the experiment ended abruptly and without closure, and I feel sad and angry about that, and in the end I did fall completely subject to my feelings.  BUT I can now sit here and look at it in an objective way- perhaps what I thought this whole thing was about was never the case to begin with.  And in the end I am coming out a richer person for the experience and awareness.  And I suppose I can take a moment to relish in the fact that I am growing and will continue to move forward, no matter what.  I am not sure I believe the same for the other party.  I think that they may have taken a few steps back due to fear- and that's fine, everyone has their own process.  I am glad that when faced with the results of someone elses decision, I can choose to grow instead of digress- because I absolutely believe that growth or digression is a real choice in every situation.

I for one, do not at all want what I have always gotten, so I am not doing what I have always done.  This is the moment where I go back into myself, recenter and start back where I left off...no, not start over- to start over would do no justice to all the work I have already completed, it is all necessary and it is all useful.  It hurts right now, and I hate that.  I have spent a small amount of time shoulding on myself for allowing myself to be hurt.  I have also contemplated whether or not this whole vulnerability thing is worth it.  I want to be angry and to say fuck it to the whole vulnerability thing... but in the end, the hurt is part of the cycle- and THIS is where the objectivity really comes in handy... I could fall subject to my 'hurt feelings', I could take on a victim mentality here 'it's not fair' 'they hurt me' 'they invited me to be vulnerable and then took my vulnerability and ran off laughing' 'gotcha bitch'.  But I will not, I do think vulnerability is worth while for the deep and rich experiences it could bring about- what I have to do is reclaim my power, there is much to be gained- me thinks - by allowing oneself to be vulnerable while simultaneously holding on to one's own power....

So, I am sure I will have many more ups and downs concerning this situation.  I am also aware that I am probably not finished hashing this out in my mind.  But at least I can take responsibility for my part and continue attempting not to own what is not mine in the situation.  I need not be concerned with whether or not the other party is learning their lessons... or the 'fairness' of the situation.  Everyone makes choices, and I cannot get hung up on the decisions that others make- even when I think they were the wrong ones.  What I can do is focus on where I go from here and make my own choices.  My heart maybe heavy, but it wont last forever- Lao Tzu said "Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."  I do feel as though I have the courage to get through my weakest moments and now, I will set my sites on strength.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

O.P.P.

In conversation yesterday, it was suggested to me that I need some direction in my life.  I wanted to be offended. I wanted to stand up and yell 'fuck off'.  I wanted to be angry.  Instead, I was frustrated.  I tried to find an witty response, but the only thing I could come up with was 'you are right, I know.' So, in my natural way of doing things, I mulled over it all day, all night too.  I am still mulling as I type.  And, not surprisingly, I have come up with very few conclusions...  All I can think is that for me, life direction, life paths, whatever you want to call it, they boil down to one very simple concept- passion.

I have thus far lived out my adult life based on the principal of being passionate- if you are passionate about whatever it is that you are doing, then you will love it and in turn do it well...right?  Problem is, thus far in life I have not discovered anything I am particularly passionate about... Sure, I have had the privilege of witnessing other people's passions- I have friends who are passionate about their respective art forms... friends who are passionate for some type of social justice... friends who are passionate about raising their children... but I cannot say that I have any of those passions burning within me.

Sure, I am passionate for O.P.P. (other people's passions)... I have been a life long supporter of local music  because 90% of my friends are musicians. The same goes for art in any form- I have friends who are amazing writers, painters, potters, sculptors, etc.  I could go on, but you get the point... In school I swung from one interest to the next as far as learning went... the world's religions, psychology, art, history and on and on. I do think any were really a passion, more like a flavor of the week.  This probably goes a long way to explaining why I had SO many credits when I finally graduated!

I know, get to the point, right? Well, yesterday I also happened to have a conversation with a friend about her plans for her future.  I must admit, I was a bit surprised at the plan (although, at least she has a plan... that's a hell of a lot more than I have at the moment ;)  Anyway, she was telling me about her five year plan, and, because it had been stuck in my mind yesterday, I could not help but ask if she was passionate about what she was proposing to go to school for and make a career out of.  Her answer was that no, she had no discernible passion for the field she was choosing, but that the field in which she does have a passion offers little opportunity for employment, much less making a good living or having any stability.  I berrated the poor girl with a thousand what if's and why not's, and she politely entertained my questions, although I am sure she was annoyed. Who wouldn't be annoyed after finally coming up with a plan and direction for her life only to have it picked apart and questioned, right?

I have had a great many friends do exactly what she is planning to do... go into a career path that may not be of much interest to them, but it is stable and there is the potential to make good money and have a good life.  Very few of them are living a passionless life... they pursue their passions outside the work week.  But you know me, I want my cake AND I want to fucking eat it! Why is that such a ridiculous concept? Why should I have to reserve the cake for evenings and weekends?  Why is it so ludicrous to want to have the pleasure of eating the cake everyday all day... OK, it sounds glutinous, but I really believe that it is a possibility.  Trouble is, I have not yet found my cake.  Some days I think I am searching too hard for it... like it's a snake about to bite me if only I could see past the end of my broken nose...  and then, some days, like yesterday... I feel as though I may not be putting forth enough effort...

I personally consider those who have found their life's passion to be SO LUCKY! I envy every one of my friends who picked up an instrument or a paintbrush or a microphone when they were young and realized that doing that thing (whatever it was for each of them) completed them.  Or those who found this one subject in school to be totally and completely fulfilling such that they wanted to study that for the rest of their lives... Those who went to school and said I want to be a (fill in the blank) and then directed their lives toward pursuing and meeting that goal.

I do not know that my goal of 'I want to be a better human' fits into those criteria... What exactly does being a better human mean you ask? I cannot answer, and that my friends is a problem.  There is no room in this world for yet another wanderer... I need a plan, but from where I stand at this moment a plan looks like lop-sided compromise... like the only way to have a plan is to give up some of the stalwart ideas I have about life... like finding a career path that I may or may not like and committing to it-in the interest of money and stability-forever. GOD I hate that word, forever.  I am standing at the exact same crossroads I stood a year ago... Do I go back and finish school? I do not have any particular interest in going back, but then again I have no other immediate back up... Is $550 a credit hour worth it for 'something to occupy my mind'?  Maybe I should just take on another job- what else am I going to do?! I have a monkey mind and all this free time is driving me crazy!

Do I pursue a passion? How does that work exactly if one has no discernible passion? I don't feel like passion is something you can necessarily seek out... I think that it is one of those things that has to happen organically... I also think it a bit weird that I have nearly made it to thirty without a passion... have I allowed my passions to pass me by? Am I that blind?!  Or, perhaps it's just that I place to much emphasis on passion in general.  So many people I know say- just find a good job and stick to it... all this fence sitting is making me restless.  Some days, I want to go into the basement of my brain and flip the breaker switch! STOP THINKING SO MUCH you weirdo!! But, I can't.  So I guess the next best thing is to write it all out on here... get it out in front of me and then come back to it later... maybe then I will get some clarity.  I guess until that clarity comes I will just keep my eyes open for my cake... Oh look! A shiny!

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Where is my Mind?

Every now and again I go through my back posts and re-read them.  I thought this blog would be a great way to capture the ah-ha moments that I have and then in turn, be able to go back and reference them... which is exactly what I do when I go back through past posts... and it's funny, every time I read them I glean something else... perhaps because my lens and perspective is constantly shifting, or maybe because different things relate to different life situations at different times.  Anyway, for the past couple of days I have been experiencing this weird, sort of intense sadness.  For the life of me I cannot figure out why... everything is as hunky dory as it could be in my life, at least on the surface.

Now, don't go running away just yet... this is not some sappy, sad, I am in a deep dark place, post.  I am more experiencing an emotion I generally block... because this feeling is not anyone's fave.  To me, the best way to describe feeling sad is to picture someone walking around with an invisible rain cloud over their head... You can't see it and most often, neither can they- and it is sunny and hot as hell out so it is difficult for anyone to ascertain.  But it is there... I am not talking about depression, I am talking about sudden and un-explained sadness- it doesn't last forever, it is just uncomfortable at the time. I have heard this feeling is often the precursor to some sort of growth... it shifts you out of your comfort zone just enough so that you will get up off your ass, make an awareness and change something.  And I believe that.

In the last few months I have been faced with some difficult decisions... decisions I have tried my damnedest to avoid making... the kind of decisions that involve other people's feelings.  Believe it or not, I care about most human's feelings... more than I should. More than my own, which is something I have touched on before- it often gets me in trouble with myself.  But now, now I am getting to the point where caring for other people's feelings is starting to impede on my own.  'I don't want to hurt her feelings.' or 'he's not a bad person, I don't want to be mean to him'.  What I have failed to do in those statements is remove the judgment.  In taking care of my own feelings I am not purposefully hurting someone else, although, in my mind it sometimes feels that way...

It sometimes feels as though there is no way to gracefully bow out of an uncomfortable situation.  And, while this may be a bit short sighted in awareness, most of the time I am not the one who makes the situation uncomfortable.  Sure, I can not take the situation personally but, and here is the hardcore truth... but sometimes it just feels unfair to be stuck in the middle of so many fucking weird situations.  No, I do not want to be your third point in this weird triangulation you have going on here- been there, done that, too many times. I know that I am the problem and solution here... I am the common denominator in all of these fucked up situations, so I have no one to blame but myself, but what I struggle with is- how does this happen?

I know this shit is not happening to me, but for me.  There are valuable goldmines worth of lessons in these situations, but I sometimes have a hard time separating what is and isn't mine... What responsibility do I hold? Well, I suppose for starters- I hold responsibility for myself, my actions, words and innuendos.  At some point I gave the impression that I am willing to be dragged through other people's problems (and I am not talking about listening to a friend who is going through a tough time, what I am referring to here are much more random situations, to people whom I have little to no connection with).  At some point people figured out (maybe not consciously) that I would listen, even if listening meant that it would affect me in some way.  At some point I gave away my power.  The silly part is- at ANY point, I could take that power back.  I can own my power whenever I want... I just have to get over the judgment shit I have about that...

This first came to my attention in a profound way a couple of years ago, when a 'friend' shared something with me that was in no way appropriate for her to share with me.  At the time, I thought she had shared it because she had no other option, I thought she shared it because she wanted help, now I know there were plenty of options, for both her and me.  I agonized over the information for a long, long time.  I continually asked myself 'what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?' What I know now it that I owned something that was not mine in that moment. One very brief conversation changed a lot of things.  That conversation began the demise of a friendship that was at that point over a decade in the making.  And to this day, I am still not good with it or the way I handled myself in it.  Since then there have been similar conversations, not in content, but context, where I could either choose to own my power and get out of a situation that was not mine to begin with, or I could choose to try desperately to help the other person while ripping my conscience to bits... and for the most part, I have continued to choose the latter.

But not now.  Now, this awareness is far too glaring.  It is blinding me... my sadness is not un-explainable... it can be traced to a point where I gave my power away for fear of coming across as rude, crass, mean, or uncaring.  It's weird how in certain situations, no matter what you do, people will think what they will about you.  And I am coming to the point where I do not care- not that I do not care about what anyone thinks, but that I do not care about what certain people think.  I am the one who has to live in my mind.  I am the one who has to sleep at night.  And I do not owe explanations to those who dragged me into the situation to begin with...nor should I feel guilty for doing what I should have done in the first place-take care of myself. 

It may sound as though I am bitter, or blaming.  But I am neither.  If anything, I am grateful to finally put words to this shit! I have struggled with this stuff for a long time.  I can remember scolding myself after that friendship dissolved...'what is the lesson here?' I always had an idea of what my part was, but I could never figure out the lesson in my part.  And I feel as though I finally have- I choose to allow myself to participate in such situations.  That is why it seems as though I always find myself in the middle of them... When describing my current conundrum to a few friends one said 'run straight away from this, you stand to gain nothing and lose a lot', another was angry at the situation and told me to ignore it, but what made the most sense was the friend who reminded me to own my power.

I'm still not sure why other people, perfect strangers sometimes, feel the need to come to me with their shit... but at least I am beginning to get a bit more sure-footed in my response- I can sympathize, even empathize with the situations, but in the end- that is your stuff buddy- and you are going to have to figure out how to deal with it, just like the rest of us are trying to figure our own stuff out.  The biggest gift in this entire situation is that I do have real and genuine friends who love me enough to listen and give me sound advice when I find myself in the midst of yet another 'pickle', and they have the patience to continue loving me while I figure my own stuff out. There is no doubt some of them ask the same question of me as I do myself- Where is my mind? Well, I do not always have the answer for that, but today my mind is right here with me... And I hear you all, I get what you are saying, it's just that, as you all are well aware by now, sometimes it takes a bit for my mind to catch up ;)