I am in such a terrible funk right now. I believe I am suffering from lethargic monkey mind. So unmotivated to do anything productive but I keep giving it a half hearted effort anyway. My kids have turned into playstation zombies and its so quiet around the house I have a hard time mustering the energy to shake them from their spell. What do I need??? A can of Red Bull? Another chocolate? Heavens no. I need to rid my house of Christmas. I'm stuck in holiday mode. Throw out all left over sweets. Take the tree down. Untrim the mantel. Stash the stockings. Disrobe the shrubs. Christmas is OVER baby.
Yes. That's what I need.
Meanwhile...while I deChristmasfy our house, I'm thinking of part three.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
Part Two
What is an argument? Let's say an argument is a stated claim which is supported by one or more underlying premises. What are premises? How about we say that a premise is a statement meant to interpret some reality, whether true, false, or a mixture of both. When these statements are strong enough or "true" enough to support the claim, we could say that this is a valid argument, maybe we could even call it a fact. But there are number of problems that can occur when making an argument. There could be factual errors, a misrepresentation of data, facts and details. Or there could be errors in reasoning, or how we manipulate and combine the supportive statements and the conclusions we draw from them. Errors in logical reasoning seem to be so easy to make but so hard to recognize.
But one could make the argument that when discussing things of a spiritual, religious, or metaphysical nature, logic need not be part of the equation. Faith is not limited by logical constraints. Faith is much larger than this. Faith is transcendent. Faith is all encompassing. Faith exists even in the heart of a disbeliever. Remember..there ain't no atheists in a foxhole. Therefore, faith claims do not have to play by the same rules as do the secular claims.
To this I would say...nice try George.
A claim is a claim is a claim....and logic belongs in the debate regardless of whether you are arguing for cold fusion, or Heavenly Mother. State your claim and support it with what lead you to this conclusion. If it is solid, it will withstand the harshest scrutiny.
But there are problems with differing opinions on what is considering factual statements when it comes to religious claims. Largely because what is considered truthful by the faithful is not measurable or observable. This is where that concept of faith sneaks back in and when religion lays down the trump card, the get out of jail free card...the "I don't need no stinkin' logic because I feel the burning bosom" card. But still, before the burning bosom, some idea was articulated either verbally or in written form to you and it made it's way into your cranium. This idea bounced around in there, the brain held it out, studied it, made associations with it and decided it was good which stimulated the emotional brain to send out the feel good stuff. Maybe it decided it was good because this message has been repeated over and over and over to you since you were born. Maybe it decided it was good because the person who delivered the idea was someone you love and trust and this benevolance was transferred to the idea. Maybe it decided it was good because you are bathed in a culture that thinks this idea is a good thing. Or maybe the idea makes sense to you and fulfills a need in you, maybe it helps you lead a better life. Maybe life would be better or easier for you if this idea was good. Or...maybe it is as you have suggested..the idea itself is good, true and real.
I'd like to ask you George to set aside the view of your religion as a set of principles dictated to man from God, and consider that religion is in essense a set of ideas. A set of ideas that you believe have come from God. You can still hold that belief. But I'm asking you to set aside the issue of origin for just a minute. I'm not asking you to deny your belief, I'm only asking you to narrow your focus slightly. Just isolate the ideas themselves, or the claims that are represented in this set of ideas. I find it's very difficult to have a discussion with a believer because a believer often tends to back their ideas with a divine authority by citing what a prophet has said or written, a prophet who got it straight from the big guy Himself. (you did this too George). Since I don't believe in divine authority I don't know what to do with this or where to begin. We aren't starting from the same place so of course we'll never end in the same place. Which, despite our claims that we aren't trying to convince each other, I think it would feel good to come to some kind of agreement. Even if it is only partial concession.
So..I'm proposing that we find some common ground from which to start. A place where we both find agreement. I'd like to say that religion is a well polished set of ideas. Ideas that are codified and cannonized. Ideas that are well organized and protected. I'll allow for the possibility that these ideas came to men through a form of inspiration from a divine being. I don't personally believe this, but because I can't disprove it, I'll concede that it is a possiblity. But if we're looking for common ground, it is necessary for us to set aside this question of origin and focus on the ideas themselves and how one comes to adopt these ideas. That is where I' d like to start.
But one could make the argument that when discussing things of a spiritual, religious, or metaphysical nature, logic need not be part of the equation. Faith is not limited by logical constraints. Faith is much larger than this. Faith is transcendent. Faith is all encompassing. Faith exists even in the heart of a disbeliever. Remember..there ain't no atheists in a foxhole. Therefore, faith claims do not have to play by the same rules as do the secular claims.
To this I would say...nice try George.
A claim is a claim is a claim....and logic belongs in the debate regardless of whether you are arguing for cold fusion, or Heavenly Mother. State your claim and support it with what lead you to this conclusion. If it is solid, it will withstand the harshest scrutiny.
But there are problems with differing opinions on what is considering factual statements when it comes to religious claims. Largely because what is considered truthful by the faithful is not measurable or observable. This is where that concept of faith sneaks back in and when religion lays down the trump card, the get out of jail free card...the "I don't need no stinkin' logic because I feel the burning bosom" card. But still, before the burning bosom, some idea was articulated either verbally or in written form to you and it made it's way into your cranium. This idea bounced around in there, the brain held it out, studied it, made associations with it and decided it was good which stimulated the emotional brain to send out the feel good stuff. Maybe it decided it was good because this message has been repeated over and over and over to you since you were born. Maybe it decided it was good because the person who delivered the idea was someone you love and trust and this benevolance was transferred to the idea. Maybe it decided it was good because you are bathed in a culture that thinks this idea is a good thing. Or maybe the idea makes sense to you and fulfills a need in you, maybe it helps you lead a better life. Maybe life would be better or easier for you if this idea was good. Or...maybe it is as you have suggested..the idea itself is good, true and real.
I'd like to ask you George to set aside the view of your religion as a set of principles dictated to man from God, and consider that religion is in essense a set of ideas. A set of ideas that you believe have come from God. You can still hold that belief. But I'm asking you to set aside the issue of origin for just a minute. I'm not asking you to deny your belief, I'm only asking you to narrow your focus slightly. Just isolate the ideas themselves, or the claims that are represented in this set of ideas. I find it's very difficult to have a discussion with a believer because a believer often tends to back their ideas with a divine authority by citing what a prophet has said or written, a prophet who got it straight from the big guy Himself. (you did this too George). Since I don't believe in divine authority I don't know what to do with this or where to begin. We aren't starting from the same place so of course we'll never end in the same place. Which, despite our claims that we aren't trying to convince each other, I think it would feel good to come to some kind of agreement. Even if it is only partial concession.
So..I'm proposing that we find some common ground from which to start. A place where we both find agreement. I'd like to say that religion is a well polished set of ideas. Ideas that are codified and cannonized. Ideas that are well organized and protected. I'll allow for the possibility that these ideas came to men through a form of inspiration from a divine being. I don't personally believe this, but because I can't disprove it, I'll concede that it is a possiblity. But if we're looking for common ground, it is necessary for us to set aside this question of origin and focus on the ideas themselves and how one comes to adopt these ideas. That is where I' d like to start.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Part One
Here the first part of my reply to the fictional George. I worry that because the original author isn't here, and thus cannot explain or defend himself, I may be caught in the straw man fallacy. But, I am morphing the current author with my former self and I will allow my righteous self to step in in George's defense where needed. Like I said, it wasn't that long ago that I could have been the author.
If I were to pull out all the claims made in this response and lay them all out side by side, it might look like this:
1-Sin is a valid concept. (ie...we will all eventually be held accountable to some higher authority for all our actions)
2-Jesus Christ (God) is alive and he has a church (which is the Mormon church)
3-Being selfish is a bad thing, not obeying authority is a bad thing, lust (which I'm going to interpret as desire)...is a bad thing.
4-The author of the Doctrine & Covenants (the premise of this would be a subject of disagreement...I believe it to be Joesph Smith and his lackeys....You would say it is Jesus Christ)....has the authority to define reality,...yours, mine, everyone's.
5-There are two ways of thinking....the believer's way and everyone else's. (or "our way" vs the "world's way").
6-The following practices will help me earn an eternal life (the imbeded claim here is that there is such a thing as eternal life), or at the very least, a life that is in line with the teachings of the Mormon church... prayer, following the rules (being obedient to authority), having faith,(which I define as believing in something despite the lack of tangible evidence) being humble (from my experience in the church this means to rely on and acquiese to a power greater than the self. Which seems like a beautiful concept at first, until you start thinking about how to define that power and who interprets it.)
7-Having a testimony...(which I'll define as having a belief in the teachings of the Mormon church) takes honesty.
8-Those who question the teachings of the Mormon church are probably reacting to some offense, and they should be more forgiving.
9-It is important to keep every commandment. (commandment or "the word of God" but the word of God as interpreted by whom? So ultimately who am I being obedient to?)
10-There is such a thing as priesthood, and powers of heaven and they are connected. These powers of heaven can be controlled by someone who is righteous.
So far, I'm trying to lay out what his claims are and begin to examine the underlying premises for these claims. Which I'll get into more later....
If I were to pull out all the claims made in this response and lay them all out side by side, it might look like this:
1-Sin is a valid concept. (ie...we will all eventually be held accountable to some higher authority for all our actions)
2-Jesus Christ (God) is alive and he has a church (which is the Mormon church)
3-Being selfish is a bad thing, not obeying authority is a bad thing, lust (which I'm going to interpret as desire)...is a bad thing.
4-The author of the Doctrine & Covenants (the premise of this would be a subject of disagreement...I believe it to be Joesph Smith and his lackeys....You would say it is Jesus Christ)....has the authority to define reality,...yours, mine, everyone's.
5-There are two ways of thinking....the believer's way and everyone else's. (or "our way" vs the "world's way").
6-The following practices will help me earn an eternal life (the imbeded claim here is that there is such a thing as eternal life), or at the very least, a life that is in line with the teachings of the Mormon church... prayer, following the rules (being obedient to authority), having faith,(which I define as believing in something despite the lack of tangible evidence) being humble (from my experience in the church this means to rely on and acquiese to a power greater than the self. Which seems like a beautiful concept at first, until you start thinking about how to define that power and who interprets it.)
7-Having a testimony...(which I'll define as having a belief in the teachings of the Mormon church) takes honesty.
8-Those who question the teachings of the Mormon church are probably reacting to some offense, and they should be more forgiving.
9-It is important to keep every commandment. (commandment or "the word of God" but the word of God as interpreted by whom? So ultimately who am I being obedient to?)
10-There is such a thing as priesthood, and powers of heaven and they are connected. These powers of heaven can be controlled by someone who is righteous.
So far, I'm trying to lay out what his claims are and begin to examine the underlying premises for these claims. Which I'll get into more later....
Saturday, December 27, 2008
To my dear George....
Recently I was reading the newspaper (online) about the declining rates of Mormons in Utah. A welcome trend in my opinion, I would love a little more diversity around here. (and I think many active Mormons would agree with me). I usually try to avoid this, but I found myself reading the comment section at the bottom of the article. I think the Trib and Deseret News comments are usually thoughtless, offensive and polarized dribble. I don't usually waste my time on them. But today, I got pulled in by a catchy title and ended up reading this one. (author unknown).
"The path to overcome our selfishness, disobedience, lust and other sins is a continue source of opposition. As we slip into the ways of the world, we will surely lose our ways. When we gained a testimony, It seems to take a certain amount of honesty to see the truthfulness of the fullness of the gospel. However, staying active in the true church of Jesus Christ is another story. We must endure to the end. We must keep every commandment. Everyone will get offended, and we must forgive. God lives, I have a testimony of the eternal nature of the only true church of Jesus Christ on the earth, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. If you have slipped and are questioning, ponder this scripture in Section 121 of the D&C: 34 Behold, there are many called, but few are chosen. And why are they not chosen? 35 Because their hearts are set so much upon the things of this world, and aspire to the honors of men, that they do not learn this one lesson— 36 That the rights of the priesthood are inseparably connected with the powers of heaven, and that the powers of heaven cannot be controlled nor handled only upon the principles of righteousness. Don't give up your path to eternal life. Prayer, obedience, humility, faith can be called upon to strengthen your testimony. "
A part of me reads this and I feel an odd sense of kinship with the author. Not because I agree with any of it, but because not that long ago, I could have been the author. I feel like I understand where the person is coming from, and the feelings that motivated this comment. I don't believe this commenter is a "mindless drone" like many reading it have asserted. But I do not agree with even one line of it. In fact I think the ideas presented in this comment are dangerous. I want to break it down and explain why I think these ideas are dangerous...line by line. Respectfully. It's not that I am really all that distracted by the Mormon debate anymore, I feel like I've moved on from that. I don't think I have the ability to change anyone's mind, and I no longer concern myself with trying. I feel comfortable with where I'm at, and where I'm going. I have found beauty and meaning in my life and it is not enhanced by "being right" and proving someone else "wrong". Yet, maybe for the same reasons that compelled the author of this comment, (lets call him "George" for convenience sake.)..to write this, I too feel compelled to counter it with my own opinion. I think George is wrong. I may be wrong too. But I believe engaging in dialogue, if we follow the rules of respectful debate....will help us, if not anything more, than to at least understand where the other is coming from, even if we can't ever agree. If George is able to convince me, using logic, feeling, examples,...I would be willing to move from my opinion. I want to maintain an open mind, and if I'm wrong, I want to be shown how I'm wrong. I would hope that George would be willing to do the same. My goal however, is not to convince George of anything, more than it is to explore and challenge (or have challenged) my own viewpoint. I think the worst thing for me is to maintain a rigid stance when there is so much out there that I haven't yet considered. I'm not jumping from one ideology to another, more than I am seeking to layer my perspectives and hopefully what I will end up with is a mixture of truth. Not "objective truth" as I am very suspect of anything claiming to be objective truth. But truth that resonates for me. My own truth. Or the truth that informs my behavior. Which really, when it all comes down to it, is the only thing that I have any control over.
So George...what do you think? Do you want to play? Are you in? It will have to wait until later because I have a house full of wrapping paper to contend with. That, plus I need some time to get my thoughts lined up.
"The path to overcome our selfishness, disobedience, lust and other sins is a continue source of opposition. As we slip into the ways of the world, we will surely lose our ways. When we gained a testimony, It seems to take a certain amount of honesty to see the truthfulness of the fullness of the gospel. However, staying active in the true church of Jesus Christ is another story. We must endure to the end. We must keep every commandment. Everyone will get offended, and we must forgive. God lives, I have a testimony of the eternal nature of the only true church of Jesus Christ on the earth, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. If you have slipped and are questioning, ponder this scripture in Section 121 of the D&C: 34 Behold, there are many called, but few are chosen. And why are they not chosen? 35 Because their hearts are set so much upon the things of this world, and aspire to the honors of men, that they do not learn this one lesson— 36 That the rights of the priesthood are inseparably connected with the powers of heaven, and that the powers of heaven cannot be controlled nor handled only upon the principles of righteousness. Don't give up your path to eternal life. Prayer, obedience, humility, faith can be called upon to strengthen your testimony. "
A part of me reads this and I feel an odd sense of kinship with the author. Not because I agree with any of it, but because not that long ago, I could have been the author. I feel like I understand where the person is coming from, and the feelings that motivated this comment. I don't believe this commenter is a "mindless drone" like many reading it have asserted. But I do not agree with even one line of it. In fact I think the ideas presented in this comment are dangerous. I want to break it down and explain why I think these ideas are dangerous...line by line. Respectfully. It's not that I am really all that distracted by the Mormon debate anymore, I feel like I've moved on from that. I don't think I have the ability to change anyone's mind, and I no longer concern myself with trying. I feel comfortable with where I'm at, and where I'm going. I have found beauty and meaning in my life and it is not enhanced by "being right" and proving someone else "wrong". Yet, maybe for the same reasons that compelled the author of this comment, (lets call him "George" for convenience sake.)..to write this, I too feel compelled to counter it with my own opinion. I think George is wrong. I may be wrong too. But I believe engaging in dialogue, if we follow the rules of respectful debate....will help us, if not anything more, than to at least understand where the other is coming from, even if we can't ever agree. If George is able to convince me, using logic, feeling, examples,...I would be willing to move from my opinion. I want to maintain an open mind, and if I'm wrong, I want to be shown how I'm wrong. I would hope that George would be willing to do the same. My goal however, is not to convince George of anything, more than it is to explore and challenge (or have challenged) my own viewpoint. I think the worst thing for me is to maintain a rigid stance when there is so much out there that I haven't yet considered. I'm not jumping from one ideology to another, more than I am seeking to layer my perspectives and hopefully what I will end up with is a mixture of truth. Not "objective truth" as I am very suspect of anything claiming to be objective truth. But truth that resonates for me. My own truth. Or the truth that informs my behavior. Which really, when it all comes down to it, is the only thing that I have any control over.
So George...what do you think? Do you want to play? Are you in? It will have to wait until later because I have a house full of wrapping paper to contend with. That, plus I need some time to get my thoughts lined up.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Post Christmas Ruminations
All the Whos in my little Whoville are pleasantly entertained with their new gadgets and do dads. The roast beast was delicious. I'm now surrounded in wrapping paper that I was too tired to clean up this morning, and too apathetic to clean up now, a reminder that this time of year is an orgy in consumerism and I am a willing participant. Christmas is one of those things that I really doubt I'd get into much if I didn't have kids. I also wouldn't be driving as big as car, or driving a car at all. But, I push away the edge of nagging guilt that reminds me to set a good example to the next generation, especially if it calls for sacrifice. But, lets face it...challenging the status quo takes energy and planning, something that often runs in too short supply around here. My life is mostly about putting out what immediate fires are burning the hottest. Christmas is another fire that is now a meek burning ember for 2008. But my guilt doesn't ruin my pleasure of listening to my oldest belt out the lyrics to "Eye of the Tiger" with his new Rock Band game. Does he know this came out back when "I" was cool? and young? (Okay....I was never cool). He's now singing an old Duran Duran song..."do do do do do do do do do do do...do do." .... "I'm on a hunt I'm after you." (...oh the memories! )....."and I'm hungry like a woooooooolf." Maybe it's okay, if once or twice a year I am allowed to spoil them a bit. As long as I keep it to once a year. Regardless, the guilt is still there, sitting quietly in the corner with a pinched and condescending expression. If I am to follow my own advice, I'd ask that guilt to sit down to hot cocoa with me and have a conversation. Who are you? Why are you haunting me? What do you want from me? Can you not allow me a little hedonistic pleasure now and then?
I am your conscience. Guilt would say. I keep you honest. I keep you from making the really big mistakes,....like going down the really dark path. I am here to remind you of your incorruptible ideals, your untainted inner life, the better you, the perfect you. I help you keep all four wheels on the road.
No you don't. I still make those mistakes, you just make it so I don't enjoy them. Besides...maybe I'd like to corrupt my incorruptible ideals. Maybe I'm tired of holding myself at a safe distance from reality. Guilt, you have your ethics, but do they keep you warm at night? do they put a fire in your belly? do they challenge you to stretch out of the box? Who's ethics are you really following anyway? How do you know they are your ethics, if you don't challenge them? Maybe, I LIKE the dark path. Maybe I like to wallow about in my orgy of consumerism, my non-ecofriendly car, my high fructose corn syrup.
Suit yourself, says Guilt, feeling a bit victimized....I am here just to inform, I don't call the shots.
That is probably where the conversation would end, and where it does end everyday. Where we look at each other, our cocoa growing cold...and have nothing left to say.
"they got the beat, they got the beat, they got the beat...yeah....they got the beat". It makes me want to go put on pixie pants, an argyle sweater and wear my neon sunglasses. I have no idea if that was in fashion in the 80's, but its what I wore. (remember, I wasn't really that cool).
Merry Christmas, Kwanza, Hannakah, Pagan Tree Worshippers.....May your double AA always stay charged.
I am your conscience. Guilt would say. I keep you honest. I keep you from making the really big mistakes,....like going down the really dark path. I am here to remind you of your incorruptible ideals, your untainted inner life, the better you, the perfect you. I help you keep all four wheels on the road.
No you don't. I still make those mistakes, you just make it so I don't enjoy them. Besides...maybe I'd like to corrupt my incorruptible ideals. Maybe I'm tired of holding myself at a safe distance from reality. Guilt, you have your ethics, but do they keep you warm at night? do they put a fire in your belly? do they challenge you to stretch out of the box? Who's ethics are you really following anyway? How do you know they are your ethics, if you don't challenge them? Maybe, I LIKE the dark path. Maybe I like to wallow about in my orgy of consumerism, my non-ecofriendly car, my high fructose corn syrup.
Suit yourself, says Guilt, feeling a bit victimized....I am here just to inform, I don't call the shots.
That is probably where the conversation would end, and where it does end everyday. Where we look at each other, our cocoa growing cold...and have nothing left to say.
"they got the beat, they got the beat, they got the beat...yeah....they got the beat". It makes me want to go put on pixie pants, an argyle sweater and wear my neon sunglasses. I have no idea if that was in fashion in the 80's, but its what I wore. (remember, I wasn't really that cool).
Merry Christmas, Kwanza, Hannakah, Pagan Tree Worshippers.....May your double AA always stay charged.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Walmart girl
I've managed to avoid Walmart this entire Christmas season. Well..almost. I tried to find this one special item (PS3 "Call to Duty: World of War" video game) for hubby...elsewhere but like the vortex it is, the whore of the Earth sucked me in and I found myself herded with the rest of the cattle into the bright fluorescent halls of the local Walmart. Lordy lordy....how I hate that place. In the electronics section, I was trying to get the attention of a friendly Walmart associate to open the locked case containing the beloved item. This wasn't easy because I was literally surrounded by a hoard of people, each with their own particular and urgent need. It felt sort of dirty and wrong. I wanted to take a shower. Instead I practiced assertiveness and weaseled my way through the crowd until I found someone with the magical key. I asked her how she was holding up as she rang up my purchase and she was very forthcoming with her views of the Walmart customers tonight. I took no offense because I know she speaks the truth. She looked haggard. One lock of hair had escaped from her pony tail and fell in her face as she was scanning my item, her face was blanched, she had tired eyes. Her eye make up had smeared giving her a gothic, black eyed look. I've worked in retail at Christmas and it took me years before I could enjoy Christmas again, even after I had quit the retail job.
So tomorrow and the next day, if you hold up your glass to make a toast, please sneak in one toast for the Walmart girl. She deserves it.
So tomorrow and the next day, if you hold up your glass to make a toast, please sneak in one toast for the Walmart girl. She deserves it.
fifthly
....NO filling up a plastic bin full of snow and sneaking it downstairs. Snowball Fights=OUTSIDE.
And no science experiments with anything that will stink or smoke, and no feeding it to the dog or your brother.
Santa is watching!!!! ( I threaten with my shrill authoritative big girl voice). But only one of them is still a solid believer so my leverage has slipped significantly this year.
How long is this Christmas Break? Would it be wrong to sedate them for a couple weeks?
And no science experiments with anything that will stink or smoke, and no feeding it to the dog or your brother.
Santa is watching!!!! ( I threaten with my shrill authoritative big girl voice). But only one of them is still a solid believer so my leverage has slipped significantly this year.
How long is this Christmas Break? Would it be wrong to sedate them for a couple weeks?
christmas break
This morning I sat all my little savages on the couch for "a meeting." Now that we're going to be spending more time together for the next couple weeks with school out...lets lay down some ground rules. First of all....mommy likes to sleep in. Mommy can't sleep in when school is open because mommy gets up early to help boys go to school. But that's not an issue now so when you open your little peepers in the morning, don't ask me to open mine. Yes, we can snuggle. But the dog isn't invited. Secondly...you each get one and only one hour on the computer. No whining about this, and don't even ask, even if it is "educational" Yes,...I'm asking you to do what I say and not what I do. Whenever I'm on the computer, I'm "working". (unfortunately kids are sensitive to the bullshit factor and they can see through my lies and excuses). Thirdly...please no more making that annoying squishy sound in your cheeks, it's making everybody crazy. Fourthly....when you want to talk to me, or you need my help, please don't just yell..... "maaaaaaoooommmm" from whatever part of the house you are in, unless you're on the toilet. (but I'm not wiping if you haven't already tried at least three wipes on your own)
During my lecture, Noah who lives in his sleeping bag lately crawled under the sofa table and did his worm impressions which incited the dog to catch and eat the worm (one of their favorite games)....which made Christian giggle and start making his cheeky squishy noise which made Josh shove Christian which made Christian wail...and so it goes. Never a boring moment.
During my lecture, Noah who lives in his sleeping bag lately crawled under the sofa table and did his worm impressions which incited the dog to catch and eat the worm (one of their favorite games)....which made Christian giggle and start making his cheeky squishy noise which made Josh shove Christian which made Christian wail...and so it goes. Never a boring moment.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
No thanks Mr. Hugo.
It's late. 12:32 am. I believe a change in my blogname is called for because lately it is anything but "disregulated. " My days of open up laptop, open up brain and let everything flow out unrestrained appear to be over. My steady stream of consciousness is now constipated. Then again, that is just one way to look at things. Maybe I'd like to take my blog writing up a notch and be a little more deliberate about what and who ends up in my posts. Particularly the "who" part because I think this is an area where I must tread lightly. I'm developing a growing sense of the privacy and respect that others deserve. So as I pull in personal experiences, I feel compelled to present the characters in these personal dramas in a fair and anonymous way. Maybe this is why I've felt the need for such a long break from frequent blogging activity. Maybe I needed some time to fine tune and create a plan. (even though I have still have no plan). Once I get a plan, I also plan to deviate from my plan as the need arises. But in this moment, my plan seems to be falling asleep. I wake up enough to crank out another sentence before I slip back into my altered state. Probably not a good time to be blogging. Who knows what secrets I will divulge in this condition??? My kids used to love my bedtime stories when I was really tired. Now Josh doesn't want to hear one, unless he is pretty sure I'll fall asleep as I'm telling it. Mainly because I tend to fall asleep as I'm talking and yet I continue with the story mostly uninterrupted. It is when my unconscious starts talking and then things get really bizarre. Josh still likes to remind me of the story that started out like any respectable fairy tale does with a prince on a mission quest...but then it ended up with everyone getting on a school bus. They were all taken to a hospital where the bus driver ordered everyone out of the bus. He marched into the hospital and yelled,..."Can I get back to work here????" He laughed and it woke me up. I asked him to tell the story back to me because I had no idea where it had gone and I laughed in spite of myself. I'm hopeless at this. When I'm awake, my stories are so boring and predictable, when I'm asleep they make absolutely no sense. They toggle between mundane and incomprehensible. This reminds me again of my blogging history, which I believe has followed a similiar pattern.
It's now 12:54. Twenty minutes have gone by and what do I have to show for it? Only a cup of cold Candy Cane Tea that I forgot I made for myself an hour ago. I was distracted by a quote by Victor Hugo on the package of the box of tea... It said something like..."a smile is the sun that wipes the winter off of the human face." I found myself becoming oddly annoyed by that quote, which on the surface seems benign enough. Maybe I'm annoyed because of his insinuation that winter is a negative thing, that sun is a good thing and that smiling is our ultimate goal. I like winter. Today I took the kids sledding. Noah and his cousin launched repeatedly off of a snow jump. Every time they aimed correctly, they were rewarded with the flight of several feet off the ground. Which often led to a messy landing, which then led to giggles and big clouds of snow and then another haul up the hill to do it all over again. Christian and I shared a sled for most of the afternoon because of his timidity with solo runs. My anxiety over a metal post stuck inconveniently in the middle of the sledding field didn't help much. Christian asked me why we were sledding down a hill when there was a fence surrounding it with the words "no sledding" stamped repeatedly down the several horizontal fence planks. When he asked me, the metal post came to mind and I told him that this was more of a "suggestion". Oh...he said. So they aren't telling us...they're just "asking" us not to sled here. Yeah. I guess you could say that. So we won't go to jail. No, we won't go jail. Actually, I thought, the consequences would be much worse if we were caught by the menacing post, than any rebuke by a grumpy Parks and Recreation employee. However, we were not caught by either one today. It was a wonderful day and we had a great time. On the way home, I could feel my toes start tingling from the sensation of warming up and I thought to myself that there aren't many sensations in the world that I like better. (of course...I can think of a couple...lets face it, who doesn't enjoy a healthy bowel movement? Come on. Be honest). My face was red, glowing and wind kissed. Sun kissing the winter from my face? I think not. Winter is welcome on this face. At least for a few months out of the year.
But Shelly...I tell myself...you dope, you missed the whole metaphorical meaning of what poor Hugo was trying to express. No. I think I got that too. Winter=Sadness and Despair. Sun=Hope and Optimism. Hope and optimism shuts out sadness and despair and nothing helps the process more than a cup of Candy Cane Tea. But....obstinate doof that I am...I want to know why I need to have hope kiss away my despair? If I am despairing, I want to sit down and drink my tea with my despair. Welcome it as an important guest and get to know it. Not wallow and surrender to it,.....but look my despair square on until I understand it. Confront confront confront...until I understand. It's the only way I think to real hope and optimism rather than the counterfeit kind that we hold onto tightly because we should.
It's now 1:26am. Over an hour has passed. My brief sleeping spells are increasing in frequency and duration. Maybe its time I surrender to it.
(yaaaaaaawn) Good night!
It's now 12:54. Twenty minutes have gone by and what do I have to show for it? Only a cup of cold Candy Cane Tea that I forgot I made for myself an hour ago. I was distracted by a quote by Victor Hugo on the package of the box of tea... It said something like..."a smile is the sun that wipes the winter off of the human face." I found myself becoming oddly annoyed by that quote, which on the surface seems benign enough. Maybe I'm annoyed because of his insinuation that winter is a negative thing, that sun is a good thing and that smiling is our ultimate goal. I like winter. Today I took the kids sledding. Noah and his cousin launched repeatedly off of a snow jump. Every time they aimed correctly, they were rewarded with the flight of several feet off the ground. Which often led to a messy landing, which then led to giggles and big clouds of snow and then another haul up the hill to do it all over again. Christian and I shared a sled for most of the afternoon because of his timidity with solo runs. My anxiety over a metal post stuck inconveniently in the middle of the sledding field didn't help much. Christian asked me why we were sledding down a hill when there was a fence surrounding it with the words "no sledding" stamped repeatedly down the several horizontal fence planks. When he asked me, the metal post came to mind and I told him that this was more of a "suggestion". Oh...he said. So they aren't telling us...they're just "asking" us not to sled here. Yeah. I guess you could say that. So we won't go to jail. No, we won't go jail. Actually, I thought, the consequences would be much worse if we were caught by the menacing post, than any rebuke by a grumpy Parks and Recreation employee. However, we were not caught by either one today. It was a wonderful day and we had a great time. On the way home, I could feel my toes start tingling from the sensation of warming up and I thought to myself that there aren't many sensations in the world that I like better. (of course...I can think of a couple...lets face it, who doesn't enjoy a healthy bowel movement? Come on. Be honest). My face was red, glowing and wind kissed. Sun kissing the winter from my face? I think not. Winter is welcome on this face. At least for a few months out of the year.
But Shelly...I tell myself...you dope, you missed the whole metaphorical meaning of what poor Hugo was trying to express. No. I think I got that too. Winter=Sadness and Despair. Sun=Hope and Optimism. Hope and optimism shuts out sadness and despair and nothing helps the process more than a cup of Candy Cane Tea. But....obstinate doof that I am...I want to know why I need to have hope kiss away my despair? If I am despairing, I want to sit down and drink my tea with my despair. Welcome it as an important guest and get to know it. Not wallow and surrender to it,.....but look my despair square on until I understand it. Confront confront confront...until I understand. It's the only way I think to real hope and optimism rather than the counterfeit kind that we hold onto tightly because we should.
It's now 1:26am. Over an hour has passed. My brief sleeping spells are increasing in frequency and duration. Maybe its time I surrender to it.
(yaaaaaaawn) Good night!
Monday, November 17, 2008
E=mc2
CI gently reminded me that I've been slackin' on my bloggin' lately. It's true. I couldn't even remember my password for a minute or so. It not that I've left this community altogether, I still think of it often, and the relationships I've discovered through it... It's more that my time has shifted into a higher gear lately. I cannot believe how fast everything seems to be flying by. When my kids were little, time was molasses. Everyday clicked off one tick tick tick at a time. Sometimes it was fun and rewarding, but mostly I was terribly bored and lonely and really really tired. It's not that I didn't love my babies, or the time I was able to spend with them (cleaning up pooh, wiping boogers, playing in the leaves, rocking them to sleep, watching PBS, taking long walks where no twig in our path was left undiscovered). It was a sweet time of life and I think back on it with great nostaglia. Now my kids are all in school, my time has entered into a much much quicker pace. Homework, piano, scouting, soccer, endless volunteering, the PTA... I decided that once all my kids were in school, that would be the time to reopen the business idea (with all that extra time I'll have when they are in school). HA! I haven't touched accounts receivable in a month, it's all in a stack waiting for me. It's now on my afternoon agenda. Because I've just spent all morning helping out in the 5th grade class. They have huge class sizes in Utah and I feel it is a priviledge, a duty and an honor to help decrease the ratio of kids to adults. Okay....hang on...let me climb down from my high horse. Not to say this isn't true... but my primary motivation is to be involved enough that I know what's goin' on. That I know when to fill in the cracks of my kids education, and to also compare the stories that get carried home with what I am perceiving first hand. I'm not easy to please, but I'm pleased this year. There will never be the "perfect" match, but there is a strong community feel and people who seem passionate about these kids. That's enough for now to keep me happy.
I know this isn't really a post. Just a quick update. I'm slowly figuring out how to shift the burdensome minutia of the little clinic onto others...my partner, a bookkeeper, an answering service, etc. I'm gradually letting go of micro-management. I miss my free time. I miss connecting with friends and blogging. And..ski season is starting soon. For my big 40th birthday that is coming up way too fast, I'm hoping to get myself a fancy new snowboard and carve out time to actually use it. My current board is over 12 years old and it has seen it's better days.
I hear rumors of another Exmo Expo coming up. I hope I'm not an Ex Exmo Expo Member. If there is a minimum number of posts required before an invitation to attend is issued, let me know and I'll get crackin'.
I know this isn't really a post. Just a quick update. I'm slowly figuring out how to shift the burdensome minutia of the little clinic onto others...my partner, a bookkeeper, an answering service, etc. I'm gradually letting go of micro-management. I miss my free time. I miss connecting with friends and blogging. And..ski season is starting soon. For my big 40th birthday that is coming up way too fast, I'm hoping to get myself a fancy new snowboard and carve out time to actually use it. My current board is over 12 years old and it has seen it's better days.
I hear rumors of another Exmo Expo coming up. I hope I'm not an Ex Exmo Expo Member. If there is a minimum number of posts required before an invitation to attend is issued, let me know and I'll get crackin'.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Lord Mortar and the killer thunder strike
I heard an interesting metaphor the other day. A doctor had a patient come into his office who was convinced that he was dead. The doctor asked him to describe a dead person, how he looks, behaves,etc. The doctor asked.."Can a dead person bleed?" ...the patient said, "no, a dead person does not bleed". So the doctor pulled out a needle and pricked the patient's finger. Since the patient was not in fact dead, he started to bleed. The patient stared at the blood and said. "oh...I guess dead people DO bleed." The implications behind this metaphor go beyond the need for further explaination. Politely transparent walls and closed doors which are shut off to all influence allow us to nuture our prejudicies and neglect our sense of reason.
I took the kids to their first day of school today. I felt like crying. We had fun together this summer. On the other hand, the last couple weeks I've been counting down the days. Right now I'm watching my five year old (who starts kindergarten next week) and his best friend practice their Power Ranger moves. It's incredibly endearing. I wish I could describe it in a way that would do it justice. Right now they are using"power blows" and "mystic kicks" to fight the evil Lord Mortar. Ooooh...just finished him off with a "thunder strike"...except one of them just kicked the shelf by mistake with his bare foot and I'm not sure who is the worse off.
I'm trying to wake up from my funk this morning. I had another one of those gut wrenching emotive kind of dreams. In fact I woke up sobbing. My oldest was being shot and bludgeoned to death by an army of Chinese soldiers. Only it wasn't really my Josh, it was Josh's clone but I loved him like he was the real Josh and I was in a panicked helpless state. When I woke up, I decided the dream was about killing the false self. But it drained me. I wish I understood it. I wish I could go back and rewind it and analyze it frame by frame but the memory of it is hazy and mostly what I am left with is the feeling. Which right now feels empty. Not a bad kind of empty but an empty like I've just been "purged" kind of empty. Like my thinking brain has shut off and my emotive brain has taken over. Except that part of me is so powerful that I have just numbed everything up so I am left comfortably empty and dumb. No one is manning the ship right now, except for perhaps the automatic pilot. I hope she remembers to pick the kids up from school and give the dog his medicine (he has developed a nasty case of oral warts...gross).
I have to admit I have some theatrical leanings. But the dream was powerful. It will be fun to ruminate on it when I have more energy!
Now that Lord Mortar has been vanquished from the dark corners of my house (and my brain), maybe I can breathe easier now.
I took the kids to their first day of school today. I felt like crying. We had fun together this summer. On the other hand, the last couple weeks I've been counting down the days. Right now I'm watching my five year old (who starts kindergarten next week) and his best friend practice their Power Ranger moves. It's incredibly endearing. I wish I could describe it in a way that would do it justice. Right now they are using"power blows" and "mystic kicks" to fight the evil Lord Mortar. Ooooh...just finished him off with a "thunder strike"...except one of them just kicked the shelf by mistake with his bare foot and I'm not sure who is the worse off.
I'm trying to wake up from my funk this morning. I had another one of those gut wrenching emotive kind of dreams. In fact I woke up sobbing. My oldest was being shot and bludgeoned to death by an army of Chinese soldiers. Only it wasn't really my Josh, it was Josh's clone but I loved him like he was the real Josh and I was in a panicked helpless state. When I woke up, I decided the dream was about killing the false self. But it drained me. I wish I understood it. I wish I could go back and rewind it and analyze it frame by frame but the memory of it is hazy and mostly what I am left with is the feeling. Which right now feels empty. Not a bad kind of empty but an empty like I've just been "purged" kind of empty. Like my thinking brain has shut off and my emotive brain has taken over. Except that part of me is so powerful that I have just numbed everything up so I am left comfortably empty and dumb. No one is manning the ship right now, except for perhaps the automatic pilot. I hope she remembers to pick the kids up from school and give the dog his medicine (he has developed a nasty case of oral warts...gross).
I have to admit I have some theatrical leanings. But the dream was powerful. It will be fun to ruminate on it when I have more energy!
Now that Lord Mortar has been vanquished from the dark corners of my house (and my brain), maybe I can breathe easier now.
Monday, July 14, 2008
that's a lot of bacon
I discovered this morning that there are over 10 million pictures of bacon and related bacon like themes on google images. (thanks to my son who from now on wishes to be called, "the baconator".
waking from sleep
It's barely morning and I'm just waking up. My eyes feel sticky and dry. I had really disturbing dreams last night that pounded me with frustration. In one, I was a traveler and I was trying to get home. Not to the home I'm in right now, but to my childhood home. There was a family party going on there and I knew I would be missed. I was stuck in the middle of a grass field with other travelers each just as lost and as stuck as I was. We were all waiting for a train, but each of us had different destinations. Ironically, trains kept coming, staffed by beautiful Indian attendants...but they were all going someplace else, somewhere we didn't intend to go. I thought of different ways to get home,...I could walk but it was too far. Perhaps I could rent a car... but I couldn't afford it. So I sat down in the grass with the other travelers and just waited.
I woke up from this dream before anything was resolved. The dog was licking the soles of my feet. A sweet way of saying...hey lazy butt, get up and get my kibble. This is becoming a habit for him, I guess my feet get hot in the morning and I stick them out of the covers where they are in his visual field. It wakes me up enough for me to giggle and scratch him behind his ears, but I don't think that is what he's after.
He did get his kibble eventually, but not before I sank back into another dream. This one was less defined with a lot more side action happening but what I remember most was a family meeting with one of my former clients (I am a speech therapist working as a supervisor to graduate students at the U...not sure why I feel compelled to include that fact because anyone who has the inkling to read this already knows this). I've decided not to discuss my client's stories on my blog, even anonymously...privacy is a sacred thing. So I won't tell her story, I'll just say it is the most tragic thing I've ever seen and this girl continues to haunt me. She is my age and from what I've learned about her personality before her accident, I think we could have been good friends. In my dream she was an infant, a beautiful, healthy infant. She was smiling and visiting each of us in the circle the way any normal infant would. Her father (much younger than he is in real life) was reporting on the therapy she had received under my tutelage. (I don't actually provide the therapy at my work, I just supervise). He was harsh. He said of me...."She didn't know what she was doing," "I can't believe she enjoys her work", he said. "My daughter made no progress" "It was a waste of time." Ouch ouch ouch. I nodded in agreement. "You are right. I am a fraud". Then I kissed the little girl and left the meeting and went shopping for clothes. There was a sale going on, in fact, we were having this meeting conveniently right there in the clothing store.
The last dream wasn't completely disturbing, nor would I even call it a dream. It was more of an image and I was already 1/4 awake by this time. The background was completely black. The deepest black I've ever seen. I saw an image suspended in space, floating in this deep black. It was a cyclindrical bag with thick edges. It looked like it was made of soft plastic. This bag was stuffed full of small pastel colored balls. There was no feeling or meaning attached to this image. It was just there and I watched it hanging meaninglessly in space.
Must go. House, boys, dog all in need of attention. (plus I fell asleep before doing my work thing last night)
... Noah is waiting anxiously to tell me his dreams now.
I woke up from this dream before anything was resolved. The dog was licking the soles of my feet. A sweet way of saying...hey lazy butt, get up and get my kibble. This is becoming a habit for him, I guess my feet get hot in the morning and I stick them out of the covers where they are in his visual field. It wakes me up enough for me to giggle and scratch him behind his ears, but I don't think that is what he's after.
He did get his kibble eventually, but not before I sank back into another dream. This one was less defined with a lot more side action happening but what I remember most was a family meeting with one of my former clients (I am a speech therapist working as a supervisor to graduate students at the U...not sure why I feel compelled to include that fact because anyone who has the inkling to read this already knows this). I've decided not to discuss my client's stories on my blog, even anonymously...privacy is a sacred thing. So I won't tell her story, I'll just say it is the most tragic thing I've ever seen and this girl continues to haunt me. She is my age and from what I've learned about her personality before her accident, I think we could have been good friends. In my dream she was an infant, a beautiful, healthy infant. She was smiling and visiting each of us in the circle the way any normal infant would. Her father (much younger than he is in real life) was reporting on the therapy she had received under my tutelage. (I don't actually provide the therapy at my work, I just supervise). He was harsh. He said of me...."She didn't know what she was doing," "I can't believe she enjoys her work", he said. "My daughter made no progress" "It was a waste of time." Ouch ouch ouch. I nodded in agreement. "You are right. I am a fraud". Then I kissed the little girl and left the meeting and went shopping for clothes. There was a sale going on, in fact, we were having this meeting conveniently right there in the clothing store.
The last dream wasn't completely disturbing, nor would I even call it a dream. It was more of an image and I was already 1/4 awake by this time. The background was completely black. The deepest black I've ever seen. I saw an image suspended in space, floating in this deep black. It was a cyclindrical bag with thick edges. It looked like it was made of soft plastic. This bag was stuffed full of small pastel colored balls. There was no feeling or meaning attached to this image. It was just there and I watched it hanging meaninglessly in space.
Must go. House, boys, dog all in need of attention. (plus I fell asleep before doing my work thing last night)
... Noah is waiting anxiously to tell me his dreams now.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Drooling and snoring...
I'm finally beginning to realize that I blog more when I'm using it as an avoidance tactic. I've got something I have to do for work...and it's really not that hard, but I just don't want to do it. Of course, I'll end up doing it anyway, it will just be later tonight and I'll be grumpier and even less willing,less efficient, less complete, and more apt to make mistakes. I resent working on the weekends. But I end up just punishing myself for this resentment.
I'm nursing a wound I have from an argument I had with hubby a few hours ago. It started with (drum roll please) ...dog poop.... but not really. That's what we decided it was about, but what it really was about was much shitter than the dog shit itself, and I think we are only barely aware of what that even is. Maybe it goes back to the ageless argument of who's job is it to do what. But I think underneath that excuse it that universal need to be seen, validated, recognized, appreciated and loved. Something we both have learned very well how to withhold. Why do we withhold? Because it is being withheld. Who makes the first move? Who is adult enough here? Is it really true that you get back out what you put into a relationship? You put love in...you get love out? But how do you protect yourself from being taken advantage of? Is it also true that if you put rancor in, you get rancor back? Is there no other option other than love or rancor?
ugh. I need to change the subject or I'll never get to my work project and I'll get too worked up to sleep.
Last week I pulled several nights with little or no sleep as I trudged through the dbp.* Friday night Jason took the kids camping. (a father/son thing)...and as a reward for my hard work and since I had a whole evening just to myself...I treated myself to a professional massage. I've had plenty of massages before. Most of the time, I leave a little bit disappointed as I attempt to gauge whether the massage justifed the time and money spent to get one. But last Friday there was no question in my mind. It was Nirvana. I now know what I want in a massage. I want the pressure so deep that it hurts (in a good way). It has taken several different people over several different years each trying their own technique until I found one that I really like. After it was done, I felt like he had replaced years to my life that stress and personal abuses had robbed me of over the years. I get a massage every few months or so and I usually just jump around to different therapists. I tried sticking with one but he was really disappointing in the end. But now...I have found him. I have found the therapist with the keys to Nirvana. It will take self control to not go back too soon or too often, given the expense of it. Normally I like to chill out and not talk but I found myself unusually chatty. I found out he was a "gamer". And sometimes he'll play for an entire day without noticing time passing. He's also into creating his own computer programs, (for lack of a better word, he could describe it better than I). This massage thing was just a weekend gig. It was strange really, laying there all but entirely butt naked as this guy I'd never met before sent me to Nirvana, and there was nothing sexual about it. I started to wonder if he ever had fantasies about his clients. Of course he did. But I'm quite sure he won't fantasize about me. I believe I was so sent that I might have started to drool. Plus...I'm old. I'm getting older and as a woman, I'm moving closer and closer into the realm of sexual irrelevancy. (not as far as I'm concerned but I'm describing how I think the larger culture looks at women with gray hair).
Oih. i'm starting to nod here. I cannot fall asleep. Cannot....fall...asleep. can't fall....fall...can't.........................(snore).
*dreaded business plan
I'm nursing a wound I have from an argument I had with hubby a few hours ago. It started with (drum roll please) ...dog poop.... but not really. That's what we decided it was about, but what it really was about was much shitter than the dog shit itself, and I think we are only barely aware of what that even is. Maybe it goes back to the ageless argument of who's job is it to do what. But I think underneath that excuse it that universal need to be seen, validated, recognized, appreciated and loved. Something we both have learned very well how to withhold. Why do we withhold? Because it is being withheld. Who makes the first move? Who is adult enough here? Is it really true that you get back out what you put into a relationship? You put love in...you get love out? But how do you protect yourself from being taken advantage of? Is it also true that if you put rancor in, you get rancor back? Is there no other option other than love or rancor?
ugh. I need to change the subject or I'll never get to my work project and I'll get too worked up to sleep.
Last week I pulled several nights with little or no sleep as I trudged through the dbp.* Friday night Jason took the kids camping. (a father/son thing)...and as a reward for my hard work and since I had a whole evening just to myself...I treated myself to a professional massage. I've had plenty of massages before. Most of the time, I leave a little bit disappointed as I attempt to gauge whether the massage justifed the time and money spent to get one. But last Friday there was no question in my mind. It was Nirvana. I now know what I want in a massage. I want the pressure so deep that it hurts (in a good way). It has taken several different people over several different years each trying their own technique until I found one that I really like. After it was done, I felt like he had replaced years to my life that stress and personal abuses had robbed me of over the years. I get a massage every few months or so and I usually just jump around to different therapists. I tried sticking with one but he was really disappointing in the end. But now...I have found him. I have found the therapist with the keys to Nirvana. It will take self control to not go back too soon or too often, given the expense of it. Normally I like to chill out and not talk but I found myself unusually chatty. I found out he was a "gamer". And sometimes he'll play for an entire day without noticing time passing. He's also into creating his own computer programs, (for lack of a better word, he could describe it better than I). This massage thing was just a weekend gig. It was strange really, laying there all but entirely butt naked as this guy I'd never met before sent me to Nirvana, and there was nothing sexual about it. I started to wonder if he ever had fantasies about his clients. Of course he did. But I'm quite sure he won't fantasize about me. I believe I was so sent that I might have started to drool. Plus...I'm old. I'm getting older and as a woman, I'm moving closer and closer into the realm of sexual irrelevancy. (not as far as I'm concerned but I'm describing how I think the larger culture looks at women with gray hair).
Oih. i'm starting to nod here. I cannot fall asleep. Cannot....fall...asleep. can't fall....fall...can't.........................(snore).
*dreaded business plan
Saturday, July 12, 2008
All Done. Yipeeee!!!!!
oh yeah. uh huh. that's right. ....baby I'm done with the dreaded business plan.... For anyone well versed in the normal operations of a business this would have taken half that time. I think what hung me up was the initial need I felt to adapt to the excel spread sheets offered to me from the free business planning guy at Zions bank. They are supposed to be general enough for most businesses but I found them laborious to navigate. So I learned what kind of info that is important to identify and created my own, perhaps messier, but certainly more personally tailored projections reports. I hope the bank guy feels the same about my creative liberties. It won't kill us not to get a small business loan, but I'm tired of contributing our grocery money to get things jump started. I took my ideas for splitting the business with my partner to an attorney who advised me on how to do this so that neither one of us feel "screwed", especially if one of us ever wants out. Mostly he said I was giving too much away to him and he tempered our arrangement a bit to build in some protection and share the burden of the risk, for both of us. I like how things are forming up and it is exciting to see it all start to come together. Now...we just need clients. Anyone out there need help with your /r/'s? how about tongue thrust? I saw a kid yesterday in Josh's science class who was a major tongue thruster. I've noticed this is a hard thing to grow out of. I've been waiting for my second child to finally get his permanent teeth before we correct that endearing at first, but now becoming increasingly annoying /s/ laterialization issue.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Just scratching my itch.
Starting my day out with my morning blog. I guess it's my equivalent to a morning cup of coffee. Seems to jump start something in the cranium.
The other day I noticed I had one mosquito bite (it could be spider but that makes my skin crawl so I'm going to call it a mosquito bite) on my neck. I am an incurable scratcher. So of course I teased it into something that resembles a goiter. Which probably just enticed the critter so it came back for seconds. Suddenly one was joined by two. This morning I woke up to find another one up a little higher by my hair line. Oh the humanity!!! Will this suffering never end?!
A friend of mine (and you know who you are Tim) turned me on to Morgan Spurlock (the Supersize me guy) and his TV series "30 days". There is a bit of drudgery involved with writing a business plan (yep...still at it)....and while I've plugged numbers into templates I've been watching TV on my ipod. So far I've made it through season one and three, now I'm starting season two. Here is a link to a review it if you are interested. The whole series can be downloaded from itunes.
http://www.tv.com/30-days/show/36402/summary.html
The episodes that I thought were well worth the watch are 1-gay parenting 2-off the grid
3-minimum wage.....
oh hell...they are all worth the watch.
I was hopeful with the Muslims and Christians episode, but it disappointed me. The animal rights was endearing but the hunter seemed to relinquish his opinion too quickly, it didn't seem real. But I trust that this isn't staged. Why do I trust this? I don' know, Morgan just seems like a trustful kind a guy.
I watched the Coal Mine last night and now I see that I have one more thing for which I should feel some guilt as I sit here in front of my laptop, there is a cost to it and I watched the cost last night. Damn. Where is the number for the dancing rabbits farm? (you'll have to watch "off the grid" to understand that).
Okay...better wrap up this. Got things to do. Here is my to do list for today.
1-Scratch my new mosquito bite.
2-Drag Josh to Science Camp. (HE picked this class not me. I hate making him go but its one of those difficult parenting things. Do you be flexible or do you make your kid fulfill a commitment even when it is boooooooooooring.)
3-Business Plan (need I say more?)
4-Scratch my old mosquito bites
5-Appointment with therapist. Seriously...I have an appointment with my therapist today. She said I am exhibiting a reaction to religion that smacks of "trauma". She is going to try something that I'm a little nervous about. It initially sounded liked "shock therapy" (yaaaoowwwzzers) but I was assured it's nothing like that. Its just something to keep my forebrain busy while she digs deeper into the innards of my psyche. I don't think I really was traumatized. I don't believe whatever angst I have can be fully attributed to my conservative Mormon upbringing (although it plays a part I'm sure). I actually think I'm fairly mentally healthy. But I don't understand myself very well. Nor do I understand life in general so much. I often feel baffled by what goes on around me. Maybe I'm just like everyone else, I'm just more honest about it.
6-Go to work. Yes. I still have a job. Even though I don't go there very often. I have come to love the accent clients in this little group I am supervising. Next week is our last session. I'm going to miss them.
7-Scratch you know what
8-Stick a frozen pizza in the oven. (this just tells you the state of my diet. but as soon as I'm able I'm going to make a U turn)
9-Stack all the shit cluttering my floor into piles. Legos. Clean/dirty laundry. Papers/folders, chewed up swimming goggles, balls of fur and dirt, etc.
10-Make love to my husband. Come on honey....it's been forever!!!!! Of course, he won't read this. He never reads my blog. But if he did, he would laugh to read this last one because it sounds like I am trying to convince him when he would assert that it is usually it's the other way around and to be honest, we are both at fault. We are both just too fucking busy to fuck....or love...or be soft and enjoy smooth and uncalloused heels.
I miss the cabin. I miss the river.
Wow. This evolved into something I didn't expect. Why do I feel the need to place my shit out there for anyone to read? It's the hairy weirdo in the woods in the raincoat syndrome perhaps.
Ciao for now.
The other day I noticed I had one mosquito bite (it could be spider but that makes my skin crawl so I'm going to call it a mosquito bite) on my neck. I am an incurable scratcher. So of course I teased it into something that resembles a goiter. Which probably just enticed the critter so it came back for seconds. Suddenly one was joined by two. This morning I woke up to find another one up a little higher by my hair line. Oh the humanity!!! Will this suffering never end?!
A friend of mine (and you know who you are Tim) turned me on to Morgan Spurlock (the Supersize me guy) and his TV series "30 days". There is a bit of drudgery involved with writing a business plan (yep...still at it)....and while I've plugged numbers into templates I've been watching TV on my ipod. So far I've made it through season one and three, now I'm starting season two. Here is a link to a review it if you are interested. The whole series can be downloaded from itunes.
http://www.tv.com/30-days/show/36402/summary.html
The episodes that I thought were well worth the watch are 1-gay parenting 2-off the grid
3-minimum wage.....
oh hell...they are all worth the watch.
I was hopeful with the Muslims and Christians episode, but it disappointed me. The animal rights was endearing but the hunter seemed to relinquish his opinion too quickly, it didn't seem real. But I trust that this isn't staged. Why do I trust this? I don' know, Morgan just seems like a trustful kind a guy.
I watched the Coal Mine last night and now I see that I have one more thing for which I should feel some guilt as I sit here in front of my laptop, there is a cost to it and I watched the cost last night. Damn. Where is the number for the dancing rabbits farm? (you'll have to watch "off the grid" to understand that).
Okay...better wrap up this. Got things to do. Here is my to do list for today.
1-Scratch my new mosquito bite.
2-Drag Josh to Science Camp. (HE picked this class not me. I hate making him go but its one of those difficult parenting things. Do you be flexible or do you make your kid fulfill a commitment even when it is boooooooooooring.)
3-Business Plan (need I say more?)
4-Scratch my old mosquito bites
5-Appointment with therapist. Seriously...I have an appointment with my therapist today. She said I am exhibiting a reaction to religion that smacks of "trauma". She is going to try something that I'm a little nervous about. It initially sounded liked "shock therapy" (yaaaoowwwzzers) but I was assured it's nothing like that. Its just something to keep my forebrain busy while she digs deeper into the innards of my psyche. I don't think I really was traumatized. I don't believe whatever angst I have can be fully attributed to my conservative Mormon upbringing (although it plays a part I'm sure). I actually think I'm fairly mentally healthy. But I don't understand myself very well. Nor do I understand life in general so much. I often feel baffled by what goes on around me. Maybe I'm just like everyone else, I'm just more honest about it.
6-Go to work. Yes. I still have a job. Even though I don't go there very often. I have come to love the accent clients in this little group I am supervising. Next week is our last session. I'm going to miss them.
7-Scratch you know what
8-Stick a frozen pizza in the oven. (this just tells you the state of my diet. but as soon as I'm able I'm going to make a U turn)
9-Stack all the shit cluttering my floor into piles. Legos. Clean/dirty laundry. Papers/folders, chewed up swimming goggles, balls of fur and dirt, etc.
10-Make love to my husband. Come on honey....it's been forever!!!!! Of course, he won't read this. He never reads my blog. But if he did, he would laugh to read this last one because it sounds like I am trying to convince him when he would assert that it is usually it's the other way around and to be honest, we are both at fault. We are both just too fucking busy to fuck....or love...or be soft and enjoy smooth and uncalloused heels.
I miss the cabin. I miss the river.
Wow. This evolved into something I didn't expect. Why do I feel the need to place my shit out there for anyone to read? It's the hairy weirdo in the woods in the raincoat syndrome perhaps.
Ciao for now.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
gills, chest hair and dog vomit
just jump starting my brain this morning with a quickie post.....
Things I learn about anatomy from my kids and my dog:
1-Gills:
Christian to mom: Deep breath.... "I'm glad I have gills. If I didn't have gills I couldn't breathe. If you make your gills angry, they won't breathe for you and then you'll have to breathe for yourself"
2-Body Odor
Noah: "dad forgot his tie"
Mom: "oh yeah, he left it lying on the counter, but I think he wore that yesterday"
Noah: "no he didn't, it doesn't smell"
Mom: "I don't think ties get stinky like clothes do"
Noah: "oh yeah they do. The tie "devolves" into the shirt and then the shirt devolves into the chest hair and the chest hair is what makes everything stinky"
(Noah has had an obsession with chest and underarm hair lately even going to the extreme of creating his own underarm hair with a permanent marker)
3-Dogs do not digest paper towels...and if you've ever wondered whether or not dogs can get car sick, I can assure you that they do. Oh yes. They do.
Only a few more hours until the meeting with the bank dude. He'll be expecting my business plan. Nearly done! Still some tweeking to do. I paid the kids each dollar to play nice and be quiet this morning. Shameless I know. But it is working for the time being. Wish I could pay the dog to not be a pain in the ass. He's in. He's out. in...out...in..out.. Everytime he moves he leaves a pile of fur and dirt....(like PigPen on the Peanuts cartoon and his traveling ball of dirt)
Okay then...nose meet grindstone.
Things I learn about anatomy from my kids and my dog:
1-Gills:
Christian to mom: Deep breath.... "I'm glad I have gills. If I didn't have gills I couldn't breathe. If you make your gills angry, they won't breathe for you and then you'll have to breathe for yourself"
2-Body Odor
Noah: "dad forgot his tie"
Mom: "oh yeah, he left it lying on the counter, but I think he wore that yesterday"
Noah: "no he didn't, it doesn't smell"
Mom: "I don't think ties get stinky like clothes do"
Noah: "oh yeah they do. The tie "devolves" into the shirt and then the shirt devolves into the chest hair and the chest hair is what makes everything stinky"
(Noah has had an obsession with chest and underarm hair lately even going to the extreme of creating his own underarm hair with a permanent marker)
3-Dogs do not digest paper towels...and if you've ever wondered whether or not dogs can get car sick, I can assure you that they do. Oh yes. They do.
Only a few more hours until the meeting with the bank dude. He'll be expecting my business plan. Nearly done! Still some tweeking to do. I paid the kids each dollar to play nice and be quiet this morning. Shameless I know. But it is working for the time being. Wish I could pay the dog to not be a pain in the ass. He's in. He's out. in...out...in..out.. Everytime he moves he leaves a pile of fur and dirt....(like PigPen on the Peanuts cartoon and his traveling ball of dirt)
Okay then...nose meet grindstone.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
day five and the battle ain't over yet honey...
I've been tortured by the business plan for going on (at least) five days now. I just can't seem to even try to finish it. I've been doing everything else (including scrubbing the dead skin off from my big toes)...except this. I've been blaming my distractions on everyone and everything else, especially my family. But now, I'm in my office. I'm alone. It's very very quiet and I'm staring bleakly into the distance. I just now figured out what it is going on and I had to purge this thought briefly before I launch into it. I am afraid. That is what is stopping me. It's not laziness..it's not procrastination...I am afraid to look at the numbers in their faces. What if I prove to myself that I'm doomed for failure? What if I prove to myself that I will succeed? (that almost seems scarier...there's a lot of responsibility that comes with success.) I am like a child in a candy store clutching a sweaty five dollar bill....what you do with it is up to you sweetheart, but you have to live with the consequences. If five dollars were time, I would have spent it on penny candy by now. A little of this....a bite of that....ooohh that looks nice....
I think now that I've recognized that my road block is really just fear...perhaps I can get beyond this. I really do have what I need to write it. I have several blank templates that are just waiting for me to plug in numbers. Waiting....waiting....waiting....
I recently read over a friends business website and called him on a few typos and awkward sentences. ME! Telling someone to watch their typos?! I hear the distant clang of a black pot.
Okay...I'm ready to look fear and numbers directly head on. I'm ready to make the leap out of ignorance.
But first I'm going to go grab a coffee. This is going to be a late night.
I think now that I've recognized that my road block is really just fear...perhaps I can get beyond this. I really do have what I need to write it. I have several blank templates that are just waiting for me to plug in numbers. Waiting....waiting....waiting....
I recently read over a friends business website and called him on a few typos and awkward sentences. ME! Telling someone to watch their typos?! I hear the distant clang of a black pot.
Okay...I'm ready to look fear and numbers directly head on. I'm ready to make the leap out of ignorance.
But first I'm going to go grab a coffee. This is going to be a late night.
Monday, July 7, 2008
start the prozac IV please....
I'm not being commanded necessarily....but I do feel the urge to purge. Today I blew my top. Used my big girl voice, slammed the door and started walking up the street without wearing any shoes. I walked up one block, turned around and came back home. It was silly I suppose. I was in full on tantrum mode. My middle and youngest sons have been pushing my buttons all day and if I do say so myself... for 95% of the day I met this challenge with patience, loving kindness, but firm consistency until they just pushed too hard and I lost it.
tease...scream...whine...fight....tease....scream..whine...fight...tattle. Strike one...five minute time out. Strike two...lose your hour of computer...Strike three...one hour early bed time. Strike four it starts all over times two. I'm just spinning my wheels. They really don't care. Sometimes kids have a way of making you feel completely powerless.
tease...scream...whine...fight....tease....scream..whine...fight...tattle. Strike one...five minute time out. Strike two...lose your hour of computer...Strike three...one hour early bed time. Strike four it starts all over times two. I'm just spinning my wheels. They really don't care. Sometimes kids have a way of making you feel completely powerless.
After I thankfully put them to bed, I flipped open the laptop (ostensibly to work on the dreaded business plan) and instead I read an email from my business partner which made me laugh. A pleasant deep in the belly kind of laugh. He is Jewish and he is often making jokes about his culture. I never know if it is polite to laugh too hard in person but in email format I don't have this conflict. Suddenly I felt so much better. Laughter really is an amazing drug.
Okay..back to the dreaded business plan. I am truly clueless. Any help for the helpless out there??? Anyone??? anyone??? Okay. I guess it's just me and my hopeful pie charts.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
I'm.....still....back?
I guess if I blog once a month, that could be considered blogging? I don't want to blog if I don't want to blog. In fact, I've tried this and it's nearly impossible. I might manage to eek something out but it is usually flat and obligatory. So...I blog when my inner voice commands it and it is screaming tonight. I...must...blog. I have a love/hate relationship with this medium. Love that through a blog I find my voice. But hate it mainly because it is so easy to make a complete ass of myself doing this. Also, it's a bit, shall we say..exhibitionistic? Not all blogs are, but mine certainly tends to be. I am the cyber equivalent to the hairy unstable weirdo that dons a rain coat (and nothing else) and jumps out of the woods at unsuspecting passerbys. Except, I'm not that hairy (see below for more details on this). And the junk that I'm flashing might just be all those crazy unresolved conflicts that I've lugged along with me since childhood. Except tonight...I don't want to talk about any of that. I want to talk about exfoliation. (more about this is a minute).
I don't want to talk about religion tonight. (even though I've got some juicy stories stored in my vault). I don't want to talk about politics. I don't want to talk about my recent vacation. (to the Idaho cabin where on a beautiful walk one morning on a dirt road that opened up into a meadow with an impressive display of wildflowers set in a background of a stereotypical big Western blue sky surrounded by the White Clouds and the Sawtooth Mtns....you feelin' the love yet?.... I resolved that as soon as I'm able, I'm going to buy some land and live there all the time. If I'm still married, he can come. If I'm not, he can still come and visit, but only now and then. I think I just talked myself out of my parenthetical statement. No...no..no... I don't want to talk about any of that.
I want to talk about yesterday. Yesterday I was in an odd mood. The day started out okay, with a visit to the Farmers Market. Initially I was really overwhelmed by it all, the smells, the people, the food. I had too many choices and I felt paralyzed. In the end, I only bought a handful of cherries, a couple onions, some lettuce and a small peach/blue raspberry Italian Ice. I told Jason I was too busy for this, but ended up walking down to the Gateway where I knew he was taking the kids to see the new kid's movie "Wall-E". He wasn't at all surprised to see me. Of course, he wouldn't have been surprised not to see me either. The movie evoked strange emotions in me. It was a hyperbole of where we humans might find ourselves if we don't change our abusive habits. It was a kid's green flick. Sort of like the dancing penguins movie but with a scarier twist. By the end of the movie.... embarrassing perhaps to admit this...I was crying. Crying because the message behind this was too overwhelming for me at the moment. Perhaps it was because of the Market with all the choices of fresh food, and the smell of basil and onions. It really wasn't the movie itself that made me cry, it was the thought that we really could lose this all. I've heard it said that right now we are in a critical position, where if we change our current trajectory perhaps we can avoid what some people are calling the inevitable after we've used up and/or spoiled our natural resources. What will the future generations say about us if we do nothing? If we continue to add to the problem? I thought about my black SUV waiting to take me home and realized that the old adage that if you aren't part of the solution, then you are part of the problem...fit all too uncomfortably well.
On my way home, I decided to stop at the library. This is where the mania of the past few days veers it's ugly head. I initially stopped only to find some books about how to teach myself and the kids how to reduce our carbon footprint. I grabbed a basket and filled it to the top. Then I balanced more books in my free hand until a nice library worker handed me another basket which I filled to the top. I wandered into random aisles and picked up books on "how to organize your life"...."the case against the global economy"...a parenting book...and several books on how to write a business plan. When I was finally finished with my ravenous library kill...I had two baskets and more books tucked underneath my arm and I was headin' to the check out. I had more books than I could possibly read between now and when they are due...even if I spent all my waking hours doing only this. As of yet...I have not opened a single one of them. But the business plan books will be cracked tonight. Yes Sir. Tonight. (been saying I'm gonna write that damn business plan and by Joe I'm gonna get crackin.)
They say that blogging is so free form, stream of consciousness, lacks cohesion, self aborbed explosion of the id. yeah....SO???
After my library adventure...I got back into my Earth hating vehicle. (feeling a little less guilty because now by damn, I was taking action). I decided that I'd head to the grocery store. Only on the way I was listening to something that could be considered "classical". I usually only tolerate classical for brief periods but for some reason this completely sucked me in. I made it to the store but sat in my car and let myself fall into a bit of a trance. It was almost like for a moment...I became part of the music. I can't say much more about it because the experience was so nonverbal and to try and explain it would be so analytical that it would ruin it. I'm sure most people have experienced this at some point in their lives, so no explanation is necessary. You know what I mean, don't you. ( I left out the question mark because I want to say this more like a statement than a question). There I was..sitting in Dan's parking lot in the car with the windows rolled up while the sun pumped out the high 90's ....closing my eyes, blaring the classics. No one seemed to notice. If they did, I didn't notice them. After a while, it led to a day dream about dying right then and there. Killed by the classics, (and from the heat). Which sparked some life back into me and I staggered into the grocery store.
Initally...it was a bread and milk sort of store run. I haven't shopped in two weeks. It evolved into something much bigger, as I strolled down the various aisles. Typically, I hate this kind of shopping. It's so uncontrolled and willy nilly. I ended up in the hygiene section. Now...this isn't an aisle that I'm really all that familiar with. Sure...I shower. But I don't tend to gravitate to all those secret beauty rituals that all the other women seem so competent with but that I sadly was left out of. Most of my teenagehood, I resembled a 12 year old boy. Then I got boobs. I was told they were a rather impressive set. But that was before breast feeding. Now...well...lets just say they are impressive in different categories now. I never really felt the need to buy all that goobly gook that made women smell nice and feel so soft. Maybe I deluded myself into thinking that I was just naturally soft and nice smelling so I didn't worry about it. Or...maybe I decided that men were so distracted by my boobs that I didn't need to worry about exfoliating my elbows. But yesterday..suddenly....I wanted it. I wanted to take on the calluses on my heels, I wanted to rid myself of the peach fuzz on my chin...I wanted a bikini line...damn it. So I started putting all kinds of widgets and dodads in my cart. Creams and waxes, special razors to make your heels soft and supple. I had a picture in my head of my feet while we were on our river trip a few months ago. The cuticles were cracked, the skin was dry and wrinkly, there was dirt embedded deep down underneath my toe nails....they looked just like a pair of monkey feet. I think about my monkey feet every time I slip underneath the covers. If hubby is in an amorous mood, he snuggles up close and I hide my monkey feet.
So...last night...after the kids were in bed, I went into the bathroom, locked and closed the door behind me and I emerged three hours later. I felt like I had just learned the password to a secret club of women only. I left the bathroom a disaster. A jar of green sticky slime, a brown granulated substance running down the side of the tub (it was sea salt if you must know), dead skin everywhere, small black eyebrow hairs peppered the sink... but damn, I felt smooth. And soft. And.... I smelled good. Too bad Jason was NOT in an amorous mood. In fact, we've been fighting for the past few days. No monkey feet last night baby. But only my soft cotton sheets knew the goodness of my soft and delicate skin.
I never quite know what I'm going to blog about before I start. I also never know for sure when I'm done with my post until I am done. I should go back and check for spelling errors and edit my awkward verbage. But if I do...I will probably just delete the whole damn thing.
So with that....I make an end of July's post. Perhaps if I am commanded to do so, I'll post again. Assuming anyone out there cares and is still reading (and I doubt you are because I've been so flaky with this business). At least my epidermis isn't flaky!
I don't want to talk about religion tonight. (even though I've got some juicy stories stored in my vault). I don't want to talk about politics. I don't want to talk about my recent vacation. (to the Idaho cabin where on a beautiful walk one morning on a dirt road that opened up into a meadow with an impressive display of wildflowers set in a background of a stereotypical big Western blue sky surrounded by the White Clouds and the Sawtooth Mtns....you feelin' the love yet?.... I resolved that as soon as I'm able, I'm going to buy some land and live there all the time. If I'm still married, he can come. If I'm not, he can still come and visit, but only now and then. I think I just talked myself out of my parenthetical statement. No...no..no... I don't want to talk about any of that.
I want to talk about yesterday. Yesterday I was in an odd mood. The day started out okay, with a visit to the Farmers Market. Initially I was really overwhelmed by it all, the smells, the people, the food. I had too many choices and I felt paralyzed. In the end, I only bought a handful of cherries, a couple onions, some lettuce and a small peach/blue raspberry Italian Ice. I told Jason I was too busy for this, but ended up walking down to the Gateway where I knew he was taking the kids to see the new kid's movie "Wall-E". He wasn't at all surprised to see me. Of course, he wouldn't have been surprised not to see me either. The movie evoked strange emotions in me. It was a hyperbole of where we humans might find ourselves if we don't change our abusive habits. It was a kid's green flick. Sort of like the dancing penguins movie but with a scarier twist. By the end of the movie.... embarrassing perhaps to admit this...I was crying. Crying because the message behind this was too overwhelming for me at the moment. Perhaps it was because of the Market with all the choices of fresh food, and the smell of basil and onions. It really wasn't the movie itself that made me cry, it was the thought that we really could lose this all. I've heard it said that right now we are in a critical position, where if we change our current trajectory perhaps we can avoid what some people are calling the inevitable after we've used up and/or spoiled our natural resources. What will the future generations say about us if we do nothing? If we continue to add to the problem? I thought about my black SUV waiting to take me home and realized that the old adage that if you aren't part of the solution, then you are part of the problem...fit all too uncomfortably well.
On my way home, I decided to stop at the library. This is where the mania of the past few days veers it's ugly head. I initially stopped only to find some books about how to teach myself and the kids how to reduce our carbon footprint. I grabbed a basket and filled it to the top. Then I balanced more books in my free hand until a nice library worker handed me another basket which I filled to the top. I wandered into random aisles and picked up books on "how to organize your life"...."the case against the global economy"...a parenting book...and several books on how to write a business plan. When I was finally finished with my ravenous library kill...I had two baskets and more books tucked underneath my arm and I was headin' to the check out. I had more books than I could possibly read between now and when they are due...even if I spent all my waking hours doing only this. As of yet...I have not opened a single one of them. But the business plan books will be cracked tonight. Yes Sir. Tonight. (been saying I'm gonna write that damn business plan and by Joe I'm gonna get crackin.)
They say that blogging is so free form, stream of consciousness, lacks cohesion, self aborbed explosion of the id. yeah....SO???
After my library adventure...I got back into my Earth hating vehicle. (feeling a little less guilty because now by damn, I was taking action). I decided that I'd head to the grocery store. Only on the way I was listening to something that could be considered "classical". I usually only tolerate classical for brief periods but for some reason this completely sucked me in. I made it to the store but sat in my car and let myself fall into a bit of a trance. It was almost like for a moment...I became part of the music. I can't say much more about it because the experience was so nonverbal and to try and explain it would be so analytical that it would ruin it. I'm sure most people have experienced this at some point in their lives, so no explanation is necessary. You know what I mean, don't you. ( I left out the question mark because I want to say this more like a statement than a question). There I was..sitting in Dan's parking lot in the car with the windows rolled up while the sun pumped out the high 90's ....closing my eyes, blaring the classics. No one seemed to notice. If they did, I didn't notice them. After a while, it led to a day dream about dying right then and there. Killed by the classics, (and from the heat). Which sparked some life back into me and I staggered into the grocery store.
Initally...it was a bread and milk sort of store run. I haven't shopped in two weeks. It evolved into something much bigger, as I strolled down the various aisles. Typically, I hate this kind of shopping. It's so uncontrolled and willy nilly. I ended up in the hygiene section. Now...this isn't an aisle that I'm really all that familiar with. Sure...I shower. But I don't tend to gravitate to all those secret beauty rituals that all the other women seem so competent with but that I sadly was left out of. Most of my teenagehood, I resembled a 12 year old boy. Then I got boobs. I was told they were a rather impressive set. But that was before breast feeding. Now...well...lets just say they are impressive in different categories now. I never really felt the need to buy all that goobly gook that made women smell nice and feel so soft. Maybe I deluded myself into thinking that I was just naturally soft and nice smelling so I didn't worry about it. Or...maybe I decided that men were so distracted by my boobs that I didn't need to worry about exfoliating my elbows. But yesterday..suddenly....I wanted it. I wanted to take on the calluses on my heels, I wanted to rid myself of the peach fuzz on my chin...I wanted a bikini line...damn it. So I started putting all kinds of widgets and dodads in my cart. Creams and waxes, special razors to make your heels soft and supple. I had a picture in my head of my feet while we were on our river trip a few months ago. The cuticles were cracked, the skin was dry and wrinkly, there was dirt embedded deep down underneath my toe nails....they looked just like a pair of monkey feet. I think about my monkey feet every time I slip underneath the covers. If hubby is in an amorous mood, he snuggles up close and I hide my monkey feet.
So...last night...after the kids were in bed, I went into the bathroom, locked and closed the door behind me and I emerged three hours later. I felt like I had just learned the password to a secret club of women only. I left the bathroom a disaster. A jar of green sticky slime, a brown granulated substance running down the side of the tub (it was sea salt if you must know), dead skin everywhere, small black eyebrow hairs peppered the sink... but damn, I felt smooth. And soft. And.... I smelled good. Too bad Jason was NOT in an amorous mood. In fact, we've been fighting for the past few days. No monkey feet last night baby. But only my soft cotton sheets knew the goodness of my soft and delicate skin.
I never quite know what I'm going to blog about before I start. I also never know for sure when I'm done with my post until I am done. I should go back and check for spelling errors and edit my awkward verbage. But if I do...I will probably just delete the whole damn thing.
So with that....I make an end of July's post. Perhaps if I am commanded to do so, I'll post again. Assuming anyone out there cares and is still reading (and I doubt you are because I've been so flaky with this business). At least my epidermis isn't flaky!
Thursday, June 12, 2008
I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!
How can I ignore the cajoling of a happy heretic! At dinner a couple weeks ago, it was brought to my attention that my blog "sucks" now. I can't say that I disagree. However, I'm not sure it has been alive enough to suck. It's not that I haven't had my moments of wonder and dismay...worthy enough for a full on blog bitch....but my spontaneous expression has been a bit more internal lately. I'm not exactly sure why, I've come to believe that perhaps it isn't something that I fully or at least consciously control. But I do miss engaging with my blogger friends. I was thinking about this in the shower this morning. (the fact that I was in the shower is a purely incidental detail) ...it's just where I happen to have some of my deepest thoughts. Deep thoughts like... "I wonder if the new brand of dog food is what is giving my dog such terrible nose-hair curling gas" or.... "exactly how many days do I have until my kids are all pleasantly back in school?" ...or..."no I think it was the asparagus he stole from the garbage can yesterday"...or..."oih! (looking down)..I really need to do more situps". My thoughts ping and pong through my head most of the day. Sometimes, when I'm lucky...every now and then, I get them rolling on a nice cohesive logic train...but it doesn't take much to derail them. Maybe this is why I've avoided the blog...because it will force me to sit down and lay something out there in black and white and that takes a certain amount of committment, which, as with all commitment, also has it's fair share of fear. In this case, I am committing to ideas. I am incontrollablly open most of the time, a shameless external processor... and the part of me that is usually bound and gagged, the part who actually fears this openness took over for a while. Leaving me subject to "the protector"..."the sentinal"...."the censorer"..."the social filter". So ...now that I believe I have come to the end of my excuses ......I will now say...
"screw you sentinal....I want out."
(although the fact that I said "screw you" instead of "fuck you" makes me wonder how untethered I really am, despite my brave acclaimations)
So I'm out now. Reinvented I suppose, with my new name and my new blog. But not really. I'm just strongly attracted to clean slates. That's all this is. But it's still me writing on this slate, so I don't suppose that anything will be different other than the name.
However,...I do feel this odd sensation lately. Like I've turned some kind of corner and yet I don't really understand this very much yet. I feel.... sort of.... well.... I guess I feel "grown up." I think that might describe it. I also feel happy. Not a constant giddy, just got off the rollar coaster kind of feeling...but more of a settled kind of peace inside. A peace that is there despite what hell might be exploding around me, when it is...and its even there when nothing is happening around me (which might be a context worse than the exploding hell). I'm not sure what I can attribute this to... and I'm not sure it is something that I can fully trust yet. I've been meditating a lot lately. I've also (mostly) cut out sugar, enriched white flour and high fructose corn syrup from my diet....which gives me more energy, but can it also make me happier? Was the emptiness I have felt for long really so easily filled by a bowl of oatmeal and a handful of blueberries?
A good friend recommended a counselor that I've seen a few times and I'm now involving my husband in this activity (which is another way of saying "marriage counseling")... I really like this counselor. I've seen a few and I think she is probably the best match for my personality so far. She is firm, but kind and very smart. To me, she seems like the wise old sage on the hill and maybe I feel happier and more adult lately by what I've come to learn about myself through the discussions I've had with her, and the subsequent reflections on these conversations. It makes me think of this idea of "the other" which I think I've explored before on my former blog...about how important the role of "the other" is in coming to understand oneself. Often I think we use what we are not in order to define what we are. Maybe that is what I was gettin' at with this new blog. I believe I've done a lot of exploring what I'm not. But I'd like to talk more about who and what I am. It all begs the question of how it is that we form our identities. What do we use to define it? (religion..sports...career) and how we can use these same identity markers as something we can also hide behind. Thus protecting ourselves from others, and maybe even from ourselves and when we do, I think we get lost. More than lost...when we disconnect like this, we become vacant.
No man is an island right? We all need "the other", even (or maybe especially) when we don't want to admit this. I realize the tone of this post is becoming a bit "saccharine" (I've got to get my sugar fix somehow eh?) and perhaps bordering on the cliche. But as I've turned my corner, I have to look at what is now in front of me. What I think I see around this corner is a longing for connection. I want connection with the Nature that sustains me, with the Community that surrounds me (yes even with those crazy Mormons!), and with "Beauty" ...a concept that others with a more traditional mindset might call "God".
I have some plans for how to satisfy that longing for "connection". But alas...I am going to save that for another post as it is getting late and what I am currently longing for is to connect with my pillow.
"screw you sentinal....I want out."
(although the fact that I said "screw you" instead of "fuck you" makes me wonder how untethered I really am, despite my brave acclaimations)
So I'm out now. Reinvented I suppose, with my new name and my new blog. But not really. I'm just strongly attracted to clean slates. That's all this is. But it's still me writing on this slate, so I don't suppose that anything will be different other than the name.
However,...I do feel this odd sensation lately. Like I've turned some kind of corner and yet I don't really understand this very much yet. I feel.... sort of.... well.... I guess I feel "grown up." I think that might describe it. I also feel happy. Not a constant giddy, just got off the rollar coaster kind of feeling...but more of a settled kind of peace inside. A peace that is there despite what hell might be exploding around me, when it is...and its even there when nothing is happening around me (which might be a context worse than the exploding hell). I'm not sure what I can attribute this to... and I'm not sure it is something that I can fully trust yet. I've been meditating a lot lately. I've also (mostly) cut out sugar, enriched white flour and high fructose corn syrup from my diet....which gives me more energy, but can it also make me happier? Was the emptiness I have felt for long really so easily filled by a bowl of oatmeal and a handful of blueberries?
A good friend recommended a counselor that I've seen a few times and I'm now involving my husband in this activity (which is another way of saying "marriage counseling")... I really like this counselor. I've seen a few and I think she is probably the best match for my personality so far. She is firm, but kind and very smart. To me, she seems like the wise old sage on the hill and maybe I feel happier and more adult lately by what I've come to learn about myself through the discussions I've had with her, and the subsequent reflections on these conversations. It makes me think of this idea of "the other" which I think I've explored before on my former blog...about how important the role of "the other" is in coming to understand oneself. Often I think we use what we are not in order to define what we are. Maybe that is what I was gettin' at with this new blog. I believe I've done a lot of exploring what I'm not. But I'd like to talk more about who and what I am. It all begs the question of how it is that we form our identities. What do we use to define it? (religion..sports...career) and how we can use these same identity markers as something we can also hide behind. Thus protecting ourselves from others, and maybe even from ourselves and when we do, I think we get lost. More than lost...when we disconnect like this, we become vacant.
No man is an island right? We all need "the other", even (or maybe especially) when we don't want to admit this. I realize the tone of this post is becoming a bit "saccharine" (I've got to get my sugar fix somehow eh?) and perhaps bordering on the cliche. But as I've turned my corner, I have to look at what is now in front of me. What I think I see around this corner is a longing for connection. I want connection with the Nature that sustains me, with the Community that surrounds me (yes even with those crazy Mormons!), and with "Beauty" ...a concept that others with a more traditional mindset might call "God".
I have some plans for how to satisfy that longing for "connection". But alas...I am going to save that for another post as it is getting late and what I am currently longing for is to connect with my pillow.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Saturday, April 26, 2008
dis
I suppose this could have also been titled...disturbed. disgusted. discombobulated. disinformed. disinhibited. disagreeable. disinclined. disparaged. and dissonant. In my search for self actualization, I've explored through "spontaneous expressions" what I'm not. For nearly a year now, I declared my "non"ness. I started with the "dis"
Disbeliever, Disillusioned,
....Disturbed
Now I'm "dis-tangling" myself from the "dis" through my new and dis-improved blog "disregulated." I don't actually know if this is a real word or not. I came up with it before I really considered what it meant but I don't suppose that really matters.
What matters is that I'd like to move on now. Move on to the ying of my yang. (or is that yang of my ying?) What exactly that means, I'm still not exactly sure.
Disbeliever, Disillusioned,
....Disturbed
Now I'm "dis-tangling" myself from the "dis" through my new and dis-improved blog "disregulated." I don't actually know if this is a real word or not. I came up with it before I really considered what it meant but I don't suppose that really matters.
What matters is that I'd like to move on now. Move on to the ying of my yang. (or is that yang of my ying?) What exactly that means, I'm still not exactly sure.
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