“Nothing in human life is natural.” Millard Kaufman
I am a self proclaimed nerd. I was listening to NPR while Millard Kaufman, a 90 year old man, talked about his life. I stopped to ponder - what in life is truly natural? Actually, I can think of only ONE thing that is truly natural and that is our bodies in the natural state, aka- in the buff, aka- stark naked.
Now my dad has always told me “naked” (neh-ked) is what you are when you don’t have any clothes on but “naked” (nay-ked) is what you are when you are (neh-ked) and you are doing something you probably shouldn’t be doing.
So, I think that since my last blog, I was as natural as one can be and I was doing something I probably shouldn’t have been doing…No, don't go there-that is not what I was doing and ok, wait, who said I shouldn’t be doing it? I broke no laws –in fact, the only thing I did break was my previous record for the craziest thing I have ever done and being on a golf course (keep in mind that golf stands for ‘Gentleman Only Ladies Forbidden) makes is all the more sweet!
It was one of those nights- you know- FUN- and possibility was in the air. I had a brilliant dinner out at a very nice establishment and, after going into the main dining room to 'borrow' a few pieces of the wedding cake that had just been cut by the bride and groom I did not know (I was on a mission )- my friends (who will remain nameless) and I went back to said home where the power of the red grape continued to bring me to what was to be become my 'natural' state.
The golf course looked so lovely...all lit up...and oh, there was the 16th hole- JUST outside the doors of the house. A walk on the green was in order and oops, my dress fell off. Never mind that God only knows who could have been watching but most importantly, my form while doing cartwheels was stellar. I delighted in frolicking about and feeling the turf under my feet. I have never played a game of golf in my life- no need to now. Golf has taken on a whole new meaning. My 'dismount' from the 16th hole was not as graceful as I would have liked (who knew the green actually dropped off there at the end) but all in all, I would say my game was spot on. Too bad there were no golf carts.
I think we have the most fun in our natural state - so long as it does not end up on youtube- and everyone you are with is blind.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Friday, September 28, 2007
Irking Me
It is a sunny, cool, splendid fall Friday here in New York. I have zero reason to have a bone to pick but I am gonna pick it. Why? Because I can and this is my blog. Hmmpph.
Ok. Two things that have been irking me for a LONG time and I thought sharing would a) make me feel better (and yes, it will) and b) maybe shed some light as to our own awareness. Here it goes.
Number one:
Email Forwards. I will be honest. I hate em’. No, I mean HATE THEM. Are some of them great? Funny? Rewarding? Sure. Am I guilty of sending them? Yes. BUT, people…please do me this favor.
CUT & PASTE!
When you send me a forward I don’t want to have to scroll down 3 miles to finally get to the actual message itself AND I don’t want to have to see the 629 names of all those people who have read it before me! I don’t care! Please, open a NEW email, rather than just hitting that ‘forward’ button, COPY AND PASTE JUST THE MESSAGE ITSELF and then put it into a new email….Mmkkaayy?
Number two:
The answering machine message.
I am gonna let you in on a little secret. The shorter the better. If you call me and leave me a message that is 30 minutes long, in which you tell me everything…and I mean, whoa, that was a long-ass message ….basically, you have given me no reason to call you back. You have said all that needs to be said. I say this because I am very guilty (as I know we all are) of being BUSY and when I get a message that rambles on and on…well, I say, “Ok, I get the gist” and hit delete after only the first part of your diatribe. Yes, it is terrible, I know. I should be tarred and feathered. But please, leave a BRIEF message and say, “call me back…I have something to tell you about (fill in the blank).”
Do NOT leave the entire (fill in the blank) on my VM. I love you, but not that much.
Now that I appear a total bitch, remember:
This all comes from a place of love (wink wink).
Ok. Two things that have been irking me for a LONG time and I thought sharing would a) make me feel better (and yes, it will) and b) maybe shed some light as to our own awareness. Here it goes.
Number one:
Email Forwards. I will be honest. I hate em’. No, I mean HATE THEM. Are some of them great? Funny? Rewarding? Sure. Am I guilty of sending them? Yes. BUT, people…please do me this favor.
CUT & PASTE!
When you send me a forward I don’t want to have to scroll down 3 miles to finally get to the actual message itself AND I don’t want to have to see the 629 names of all those people who have read it before me! I don’t care! Please, open a NEW email, rather than just hitting that ‘forward’ button, COPY AND PASTE JUST THE MESSAGE ITSELF and then put it into a new email….Mmkkaayy?
Number two:
The answering machine message.
I am gonna let you in on a little secret. The shorter the better. If you call me and leave me a message that is 30 minutes long, in which you tell me everything…and I mean, whoa, that was a long-ass message ….basically, you have given me no reason to call you back. You have said all that needs to be said. I say this because I am very guilty (as I know we all are) of being BUSY and when I get a message that rambles on and on…well, I say, “Ok, I get the gist” and hit delete after only the first part of your diatribe. Yes, it is terrible, I know. I should be tarred and feathered. But please, leave a BRIEF message and say, “call me back…I have something to tell you about (fill in the blank).”
Do NOT leave the entire (fill in the blank) on my VM. I love you, but not that much.
Now that I appear a total bitch, remember:
This all comes from a place of love (wink wink).
Thursday, September 20, 2007
The Chart
There are days when you feel 'on' and you know what I mean. You carry the energy. You can do no wrong. People smile at you on the sidewalk. You are in your skin, like the skin you are in, and you have a sense of belonging in that moment. You are exactly where you are supposed to be. Now I could go into the days when you are not so 'on' but no need. Those days are far too familiar and exponentially outnumber the previous mentioned.
I bring this up because on the days (most days) when I wonder what it all means and what exactly I am doing here, I think of Syliva Browne. If you don't know her, well, get out from under a rock and read her book, Life on the Other Side, if for no other reason than to open your mind and give you hope that you do actually have a purpose being here. No, Sylvia is not a religious figure and no, she does not throw a bible at you but she does convey her belief in the following:
God did not create us to live only once on this blessed Earth and then return to the bliss of the other side for eternity (how unproductive!). Rather, we come here to live as many lives as we choose, all in our attempt to understand God's intent and love for us and to evolve as spiritual beings...higher and higher.
Here is the kicker. When we leave this life and go back to heaven we sit down and look at the life we lead, what was good and bad and then there, in the complete perfection of heaven with the help of a 'great council' write the chart for our next life, whenever it is we choose to return. We write each and every milisecond that we are to live and though free will still comes into play, we have created this blueprint for our lives on this Earth.
Now I think...what the hell was I thinking? Maybe I have been here so many times that I thought, 'Hey, sure, I can handle that. That is cake in comparison to my last life." Um, yeah, remind me to find that 'council' when I get back to the other side so we can have a little 'chat'.
No really, if we all did write the lives we are living...if we created them, created every heartache and triumph....doesn't that make you think? I did this on PURPOSE. What was I trying to teach myself in this life? I must have wanted to paint a little outside the lines this time around and no doubt, this 'past lives thing' explains some affinities and fears that linger about that I otherwise could not explain. Maybe we carry so much over with us. And you know when you meet someone and you KNOW they are an old soul? They can do everything or you know you have met them somewhere? Makes my brain itch.
But still...I wish I could get a hold of that chart, written in seraphim ink and tweak a thing or two. I know when I get back 'home' it will all somehow make sense...just wish it did now.
I bring this up because on the days (most days) when I wonder what it all means and what exactly I am doing here, I think of Syliva Browne. If you don't know her, well, get out from under a rock and read her book, Life on the Other Side, if for no other reason than to open your mind and give you hope that you do actually have a purpose being here. No, Sylvia is not a religious figure and no, she does not throw a bible at you but she does convey her belief in the following:
God did not create us to live only once on this blessed Earth and then return to the bliss of the other side for eternity (how unproductive!). Rather, we come here to live as many lives as we choose, all in our attempt to understand God's intent and love for us and to evolve as spiritual beings...higher and higher.
Here is the kicker. When we leave this life and go back to heaven we sit down and look at the life we lead, what was good and bad and then there, in the complete perfection of heaven with the help of a 'great council' write the chart for our next life, whenever it is we choose to return. We write each and every milisecond that we are to live and though free will still comes into play, we have created this blueprint for our lives on this Earth.
Now I think...what the hell was I thinking? Maybe I have been here so many times that I thought, 'Hey, sure, I can handle that. That is cake in comparison to my last life." Um, yeah, remind me to find that 'council' when I get back to the other side so we can have a little 'chat'.
No really, if we all did write the lives we are living...if we created them, created every heartache and triumph....doesn't that make you think? I did this on PURPOSE. What was I trying to teach myself in this life? I must have wanted to paint a little outside the lines this time around and no doubt, this 'past lives thing' explains some affinities and fears that linger about that I otherwise could not explain. Maybe we carry so much over with us. And you know when you meet someone and you KNOW they are an old soul? They can do everything or you know you have met them somewhere? Makes my brain itch.
But still...I wish I could get a hold of that chart, written in seraphim ink and tweak a thing or two. I know when I get back 'home' it will all somehow make sense...just wish it did now.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Solo Liberties
I have been debating.... with myself (and the key word here being myself-as we all know, a debate usually happens between 2 or more people (or between the voices in your head...if you hear voices. Hey, I am not judging. I just hope the conversation is stimulating.)
So here is the debate:
What is the greatest part/liberty of living alone?
Please note that most men do all of the following regardless of a partner.
1) Peeing with the bathroom door open.
OK-I have only closed my bathroom door about 3 times.... I should just take it off the hinges.
2) Walking around in the buff (a definite plus for that natural 'air dry' feeling after a shower) but not so great when the Catholic Church across the street has some stragglers who clearly do not want to go inside and find it JUST as entertaining to look into my window (cue curtains).
3) Eating in bed...very nice.... I don't mind the crumbs so long as they are the only non-human things in bed with me (we all know the stories of the New York sized rats...not gonna go there).
4) Not flushing every time- Now, I am back to the potty and I am sorry but come on....'if it's yellow let it mellow..." I consider this doing my part for the environment.
5) The sniff test- Yes, you know it. You take that shirt OUT of the dirty clothes hamper, give it a sniff and say, "Yep, its got one more day."
6) How about perfume? I am not talking about Tiffany...no, the other perfume...the, I just ate a barrel o' broccoli perfume. Yes, I can have the 'silent but deadlies' all I want...bring on the enchilada.... there is no one else to dutch oven...and besides, mine smell like rose petals.
7) Maybe the best? Drinking out of the carton.... no coodies but mine.... forget washing the dishes. A good rinse will do.
8) How about not having to share the remote control- You know, this would be great but I don't have cable-nevermind.
9) Dance sessions. Yes, to lighten my mood I put on 'gangsta rap' and get jiggy all by myself. Ok, so it is kinda pathetic but it makes me feel better.
10) To round out the list? Not to say there are not so many more....I would have to say...the best part about living alone is coming home at the end of the day, in the crappiest of all crappy moods and knowing that you can sit in your funk, have to explain yourself to no one and do not have to worry about hurting someone else's feelings.
But I tell ya, I am kinda hoping for the day when I can come home, let out a big one, walk around in the buff, swig from the milk container, put on that stinky t shirt, and have my love look at me and say, "Honey, I love you anyway, now let's dance."
So here is the debate:
What is the greatest part/liberty of living alone?
Please note that most men do all of the following regardless of a partner.
1) Peeing with the bathroom door open.
OK-I have only closed my bathroom door about 3 times.... I should just take it off the hinges.
2) Walking around in the buff (a definite plus for that natural 'air dry' feeling after a shower) but not so great when the Catholic Church across the street has some stragglers who clearly do not want to go inside and find it JUST as entertaining to look into my window (cue curtains).
3) Eating in bed...very nice.... I don't mind the crumbs so long as they are the only non-human things in bed with me (we all know the stories of the New York sized rats...not gonna go there).
4) Not flushing every time- Now, I am back to the potty and I am sorry but come on....'if it's yellow let it mellow..." I consider this doing my part for the environment.
5) The sniff test- Yes, you know it. You take that shirt OUT of the dirty clothes hamper, give it a sniff and say, "Yep, its got one more day."
6) How about perfume? I am not talking about Tiffany...no, the other perfume...the, I just ate a barrel o' broccoli perfume. Yes, I can have the 'silent but deadlies' all I want...bring on the enchilada.... there is no one else to dutch oven...and besides, mine smell like rose petals.
7) Maybe the best? Drinking out of the carton.... no coodies but mine.... forget washing the dishes. A good rinse will do.
8) How about not having to share the remote control- You know, this would be great but I don't have cable-nevermind.
9) Dance sessions. Yes, to lighten my mood I put on 'gangsta rap' and get jiggy all by myself. Ok, so it is kinda pathetic but it makes me feel better.
10) To round out the list? Not to say there are not so many more....I would have to say...the best part about living alone is coming home at the end of the day, in the crappiest of all crappy moods and knowing that you can sit in your funk, have to explain yourself to no one and do not have to worry about hurting someone else's feelings.
But I tell ya, I am kinda hoping for the day when I can come home, let out a big one, walk around in the buff, swig from the milk container, put on that stinky t shirt, and have my love look at me and say, "Honey, I love you anyway, now let's dance."
Monday, August 27, 2007
If I see nothing else this week...
I just thought I would mention:
You know you live in New York City when you are walking home from the gym on a MONDAY morning at 8AM and you turn the corner to see a pick-up truck sitting at the light. In the truck is an African American man in full NUN uniform (collar and all) smoking a camel cigarette and drinking a red bull...rosary beads hanging from the rear-view mirror and rap music blaring.
Lucky me, I did get to see the 'Rehab is for Quitters" bumper sticker on the dented back end of his 'ride' as he drove away.
You know you live in New York City when you are walking home from the gym on a MONDAY morning at 8AM and you turn the corner to see a pick-up truck sitting at the light. In the truck is an African American man in full NUN uniform (collar and all) smoking a camel cigarette and drinking a red bull...rosary beads hanging from the rear-view mirror and rap music blaring.
Lucky me, I did get to see the 'Rehab is for Quitters" bumper sticker on the dented back end of his 'ride' as he drove away.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Another Kind of Hangover
Too much wine? Too much bourbon? Sure. Next day? Hangover of the painful, headache, spinning kind. Purely physical and you swear to yourself- "Never again"-ya know- till next time. But this morning I awoke and realized I had another kind of hangover. I had been where I did NOT want to be for 8 hours. Trapped. Captive. It was worse than a shopping mall or sitting next to woman who wears no deodorant on a hot New York City Subway in August. I was in a dream and now I have awoken with a dream hangover.
Why do dreams leave this residue on us? Why do our minds' "games' while we slumber affect us so long after we wake? Why does this poo poo (technical term) energy that surrounds us when we have our first Cup O' Joe stick with us? I don't get it. All I do know is that my day has started and I cannot shake the nightmares, the out of control feelings, the abandonment, the fears. At least a mall has a food court. At least the subway has more than one car and air conditioning.
This is what I propose. Pills. Now, we all take pills. Don't make that face- yes you do. It could be Tylenol or something slightly more 'powerful' but we have adopted a world where we try to fix our lives by putting things into our mouths. I have no problem with this- Take em'. We might as well. But, I think we need to take this one step further. If you are a doctor or said scientist, please get crackin' on this one.
How about a dream pill. Can you imagine? One for each night of the week and each one a different color. Take a pink one and you have a dream of flying. A yellow one means you have a super human power for the night. A purple one gives you romance. You get my drift. Each pill makes different neurons fire in the brain and you awake feeling great because you had a dream YOU picked...or at least a topic. Your mind still has the free will, of course, but at least you are not being chased by a nut job with a knife (oops- I think I went off topic-that was last night's dream). No, I want to fly- I want to fall in love- I want to roll around on a pile of money....Yep. Then wake up and think, "Well, hell, at least my dream was awesome.'
If this is too BIG BROTHER for you- ok- I can see your point. But truthfully, there is no one more BIG BROTHER than your own mind. It is the one power you will never ever get away from.
That's my nugget for today. Ah, I feel better. Hangover may lighten up yet.
Why do dreams leave this residue on us? Why do our minds' "games' while we slumber affect us so long after we wake? Why does this poo poo (technical term) energy that surrounds us when we have our first Cup O' Joe stick with us? I don't get it. All I do know is that my day has started and I cannot shake the nightmares, the out of control feelings, the abandonment, the fears. At least a mall has a food court. At least the subway has more than one car and air conditioning.
This is what I propose. Pills. Now, we all take pills. Don't make that face- yes you do. It could be Tylenol or something slightly more 'powerful' but we have adopted a world where we try to fix our lives by putting things into our mouths. I have no problem with this- Take em'. We might as well. But, I think we need to take this one step further. If you are a doctor or said scientist, please get crackin' on this one.
How about a dream pill. Can you imagine? One for each night of the week and each one a different color. Take a pink one and you have a dream of flying. A yellow one means you have a super human power for the night. A purple one gives you romance. You get my drift. Each pill makes different neurons fire in the brain and you awake feeling great because you had a dream YOU picked...or at least a topic. Your mind still has the free will, of course, but at least you are not being chased by a nut job with a knife (oops- I think I went off topic-that was last night's dream). No, I want to fly- I want to fall in love- I want to roll around on a pile of money....Yep. Then wake up and think, "Well, hell, at least my dream was awesome.'
If this is too BIG BROTHER for you- ok- I can see your point. But truthfully, there is no one more BIG BROTHER than your own mind. It is the one power you will never ever get away from.
That's my nugget for today. Ah, I feel better. Hangover may lighten up yet.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
A Dinner Guest
You know how people ask you those dreaded 'party questions' like, 'what do you do?' which I HATE- It is the worst kind of label...."Hi, what's your name? What do YOU do?" Yuck....but then there are the other annoying questions...we can call them conversation starters. Anyone who knows me well knows that I have a plethora of them. Quite irritating, I know.
Here is one I was thinking about because I may just finally have a good answer to it.
"If you could have dinner with anyone, dead or alive, who would it be?"
OK-Now the clever or pious person says Jesus or maybe you are the psych major who wants to share a roll with Hitler but I think I have my answer and I have no idea if this person even exists. Please let me know if you know this person or better yet, you ARE this person. I will bring the wine.
I want to have dinner with a:
Gay, African American, Jewish Republican.
Yep. I said it.
No really. Think about that one.
You cannot tell me it would not be interesting!
Here is one I was thinking about because I may just finally have a good answer to it.
"If you could have dinner with anyone, dead or alive, who would it be?"
OK-Now the clever or pious person says Jesus or maybe you are the psych major who wants to share a roll with Hitler but I think I have my answer and I have no idea if this person even exists. Please let me know if you know this person or better yet, you ARE this person. I will bring the wine.
I want to have dinner with a:
Gay, African American, Jewish Republican.
Yep. I said it.
No really. Think about that one.
You cannot tell me it would not be interesting!
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Mirror Recall
"We do not see things as they are. We see things as we are."
Ok. I am sure we are all familiar with this quotation and rightly so. It has its validity. Case in point....the mirror. You look in it. You see YOU as YOU ARE....maybe not as the world sees you.
This could be good or bad, I suppose. But here in the streets of NYC where one sees everything, I do often find myself glancing in the direction of those whose mirror clearly has a defect. Let's give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she does not have a mirror?
I am not saying my mirror is more just than hers but I think mine would throw something at me or break instantaneously were I to step in front of it in muffin top jeans with halter top, no bra and a cross between a mullet and an electrical accident. That second perm did not help either. 1980 was 27 years ago - when she bought that blue eyeshadow. That must have been a good year for her.
As I try not to stare, I remind myself that this very morning, she got up, ate breakfast, got dressed and looked at her reflection and said "Yes, I look brilliant!".
I am stymied.
Ok. I am sure we are all familiar with this quotation and rightly so. It has its validity. Case in point....the mirror. You look in it. You see YOU as YOU ARE....maybe not as the world sees you.
This could be good or bad, I suppose. But here in the streets of NYC where one sees everything, I do often find myself glancing in the direction of those whose mirror clearly has a defect. Let's give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she does not have a mirror?
I am not saying my mirror is more just than hers but I think mine would throw something at me or break instantaneously were I to step in front of it in muffin top jeans with halter top, no bra and a cross between a mullet and an electrical accident. That second perm did not help either. 1980 was 27 years ago - when she bought that blue eyeshadow. That must have been a good year for her.
As I try not to stare, I remind myself that this very morning, she got up, ate breakfast, got dressed and looked at her reflection and said "Yes, I look brilliant!".
I am stymied.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Mind Itch
After a full 8 hours of NOT SLEEPING, I have come to the conclusion that insomnia is poison ivy of the conscious mind.
Let me recap:
Oh it's late. Better get to bed. Why am I not falling asleep? What time is it now? Oh crap. I have to pee. Wow, look at that lightning. Maybe I should unplug my computer. No. Ok yes. I have to pee again. What time is it? I am gonna be so tired tomorrow. What do I have to do tomorrow? This bed is ridiculous. Why can't I get a comfy bed? Is it 90 degrees in here? Am I asleep yet? Nope. Maybe I was dreaming just now. Was I just asleep? Probably not. Gotta pee again. Ok. Seriously. Why am I not asleep? Now I am hungry. Don't look at the clock-you don't want to know- don't do it! Damnit. You did it. It is so late. I can do it. I have not forgotten how to fall asleep...Ok. Maybe I have. I wonder if that is possible? FALL asleep- NOW- do it. I think I have to pee again...
Repeat.
Because my sense of humor is SO stellar- I decided NOT to yell at the man picking through each bag of trash on the sidewalk just outside my window this morning. I cannot ask him to wait till after 6AM to get his money together for his next meal. So, I am up-sort of- and with the help of Mr. Coffee, I may just function today.
Bright side? When you don't sleep you don't have any nightmares.
Let me recap:
Oh it's late. Better get to bed. Why am I not falling asleep? What time is it now? Oh crap. I have to pee. Wow, look at that lightning. Maybe I should unplug my computer. No. Ok yes. I have to pee again. What time is it? I am gonna be so tired tomorrow. What do I have to do tomorrow? This bed is ridiculous. Why can't I get a comfy bed? Is it 90 degrees in here? Am I asleep yet? Nope. Maybe I was dreaming just now. Was I just asleep? Probably not. Gotta pee again. Ok. Seriously. Why am I not asleep? Now I am hungry. Don't look at the clock-you don't want to know- don't do it! Damnit. You did it. It is so late. I can do it. I have not forgotten how to fall asleep...Ok. Maybe I have. I wonder if that is possible? FALL asleep- NOW- do it. I think I have to pee again...
Repeat.
Because my sense of humor is SO stellar- I decided NOT to yell at the man picking through each bag of trash on the sidewalk just outside my window this morning. I cannot ask him to wait till after 6AM to get his money together for his next meal. So, I am up-sort of- and with the help of Mr. Coffee, I may just function today.
Bright side? When you don't sleep you don't have any nightmares.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Fascination
i have to admit a morbid fascination with the tabloids and all things trash. why be bombarded with the realities of life that are often too painful (war in iraq, disease, hunger worldwide, etc.) No- my escape is celebrities that give us endless entertainment off camera. i admit- i always look at the cover of OK! magazine. what is lindsay lohan doing (will she go to the slammer or won't she?) or britney spears?-the woman cannot possibly get more moronic...it is possible? sure- just wait till tomorrow.
why do we care? i have come to a conclusion.
because, at the end of the day, we want to know that there is someone out there who is more stupid than we are. luckily, each day gives us countless examples of this. ah, i can rest my head on the pillow a little easier at night. so horrible but so true.
why do we care? i have come to a conclusion.
because, at the end of the day, we want to know that there is someone out there who is more stupid than we are. luckily, each day gives us countless examples of this. ah, i can rest my head on the pillow a little easier at night. so horrible but so true.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
A Warm Towel
I wish that I had some witty blog entry jam-packed full of crass, irreverent NYC truths (believe me, those entries are coming) but today, my brain is running and trying its best to wrap itself around gratiude-my gratitude- so large-so all encompassing that I have to admit I cannot process it all. I have accepted the fact that being thankful is a continuum...or it should be. No one wants to be reminded of how blessed they are if it means losing something they once took for granted. For me, yesterday, I was face to face with my blessings-all the while looking at someone else being robbed of hers. I say that. She is so far a superior human being and spirit than I. She probably feels she got the raw end of a deal that has a finite sentence-she can see the good amidst the bad. I just saw how good I have it and how unfair life is. There is no explanation. If I learn nothing else it is just that one has to have faith in God (or in whomever you credit your life on this earth...) Let's face it, He goes by hundreds of names but He is one in the same. And we have no answers here. Nothing makes sense and nothing is black and white. It is the shades of gray that require the most faith, I think. Turning that helplessness over to God is all we can do. Yesterday was like bathing in the tub of life's grayness and hoping that faith is that big, warm towel waiting outside to hold you-to wrap yourself in-to help the chill go away. My towel gets bigger everyday. It has to.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Commentary on Commentary
I just wanted to interject....real quick like (insert southern drawl)...before you read the "3 Things" post below that I just put up....that it JUST occurred to me that you people actually wrote comments to some of my posts! Seriously. Do you know what this means? Do you? It means you actually READ my blog...on purpose...and you retained enough of it to make a comment...the whole time your hand went to the mouse, you could have stopped or changed your mind, gotten up for a snack, had to pee, gotten distracted, ....what was I saying? Oh yeah, thank you. Thank you for reading, now and then, and thank you for the remarks!
3 Things
Nope, not a funny bit today...pensive...but short so no worries...you won't have to reach for your prozac or anything...not that you take prozac...
Today I met up with a friend I had not seen in over 2 years. Perched across from him over a beer we chatted non-stop about everything...never one of those awkward silences. I think good friends are this way- like a book that you can put down, not come back to for months, pick up, and be right where you left off. I am lucky I have more people in my life like this than I can count on my 2 hands.
As we sat and watched rush hour around us, I studied the lines on his face- all of them earned. These 2 years have been good to him- to his mind, to his body, to his perspective. His path has been one that he would never re-live, were he given the opportunity but I commend him...he is not bitter and his priorities were revealed when he told me of the 3 things he holds most dear. 2 years ago these 3 things would never have entered his consciousness. It just made me think. 3 things. We all have and need so much in this brief jaunt on Earth but these 3 things are pretty much at the crux of it.
He said,
"All I need is someone to love, something to do, and something to look forward to."
Today I met up with a friend I had not seen in over 2 years. Perched across from him over a beer we chatted non-stop about everything...never one of those awkward silences. I think good friends are this way- like a book that you can put down, not come back to for months, pick up, and be right where you left off. I am lucky I have more people in my life like this than I can count on my 2 hands.
As we sat and watched rush hour around us, I studied the lines on his face- all of them earned. These 2 years have been good to him- to his mind, to his body, to his perspective. His path has been one that he would never re-live, were he given the opportunity but I commend him...he is not bitter and his priorities were revealed when he told me of the 3 things he holds most dear. 2 years ago these 3 things would never have entered his consciousness. It just made me think. 3 things. We all have and need so much in this brief jaunt on Earth but these 3 things are pretty much at the crux of it.
He said,
"All I need is someone to love, something to do, and something to look forward to."
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Sounds of Silence
I have a unique situation. I live directly across the street from a Catholic Church. Not kind of across, not near to, but if I had a piece of watermelon with 3 seeds and were challenged to spit one seed to its front door from my apartment window? Well, I would not need all 3 seeds. One would do it. That close.
Needless to say this is a very great source of people watching for me and also distraction...I do not have any qualms with the Catholic Church per say (ok I do but that is only because I went in one day out of curiosity and, in my attempt to light a candle for someone as I said a prayer, realized the candles were not real but were machines and I had to put in a quarter to get the candle to illuminate...but I won't go into that now because houses of worship are a personal choice and who I am to say anything? The world would be a better place if we all forked over 25 cents and said a prayer).
However, one activity takes place on the sidewalk in front of the church and I swear, it is the only time I have to reach for earplugs. What is this activity you ask? A meeting group for the deaf.
Let me explain.
I marvel at watching 10 or 20 men and women stand around and sign. This is a world I will never be a part of - hands moving a mile a minute. What are they saying? How do they do that? It is incredible. Then, their kids show up. Keep in mind, the parents can hear nothing. The kids, on the other hand...well, they have screaming matches, are blowing things up, shoot one another with super soakers and water balloons and oh yes, the radio...let's just say it is on a station with a pretty consistent beat. The parents in their silent oblivion, totally uninterrupted, sign on. And I, for that hour or so, have to remind myself that I am the lucky one. All of my senses work. But something about their bliss intrigues me.
Needless to say this is a very great source of people watching for me and also distraction...I do not have any qualms with the Catholic Church per say (ok I do but that is only because I went in one day out of curiosity and, in my attempt to light a candle for someone as I said a prayer, realized the candles were not real but were machines and I had to put in a quarter to get the candle to illuminate...but I won't go into that now because houses of worship are a personal choice and who I am to say anything? The world would be a better place if we all forked over 25 cents and said a prayer).
However, one activity takes place on the sidewalk in front of the church and I swear, it is the only time I have to reach for earplugs. What is this activity you ask? A meeting group for the deaf.
Let me explain.
I marvel at watching 10 or 20 men and women stand around and sign. This is a world I will never be a part of - hands moving a mile a minute. What are they saying? How do they do that? It is incredible. Then, their kids show up. Keep in mind, the parents can hear nothing. The kids, on the other hand...well, they have screaming matches, are blowing things up, shoot one another with super soakers and water balloons and oh yes, the radio...let's just say it is on a station with a pretty consistent beat. The parents in their silent oblivion, totally uninterrupted, sign on. And I, for that hour or so, have to remind myself that I am the lucky one. All of my senses work. But something about their bliss intrigues me.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
The Body Magnificent
I am an observer. I watch. I pay attention. I think this is one of many reasons that I have chosen New York as my home.
It is sensory overload all the time.
I am the kind of person who thinks sitting in an airport for hours is 'fun' because the people watching is excellent.
Yes, New York is my ideal. It is the world's largest airport.
I went for a brilliant walk in Central Park today, as I love to do on the weekends.
And today I paid attention-mostly to the sheer power of the human body.
Today is the day of the NYC Triathlon-About 3,000 people thought this sounded like fun:
SWIM 1500 Meters in the Hudson starting at 5:30AM- Then- BIKE 40 Kilometers and oh, -Then- RUN 10 Kilometers.
I have to hand it to them. What magnificent bodies they have and I do not mean that the way it sounds. I mean, when you think about it...your body can just be your vessel that takes you through life OR your body can be a fine tuned machine, one you build and challenge daily; a machine that surpasses each previous bar set and one that can do far more than any of us has the concept to grasp (with the exception of all you women who have delivered babies...I am convinced this is the body's greatest accomplishment.)
But, It seems like we have a choice: We can walk through life or we can move through life as a physical force.
3,000 people today showed their physical prowess. I applaud them.
This does not, however, mean I do not think they are crazy.
As I huffed and puffed and watched these stellar athletes of all shapes and sizes- I came to 2 epiphanies:
1- Total Eclipse of the Heart may just be the best song ever. (Ok-so I know this has nothing to do with said blog entry but you know you are thinking about it now.)
And...
2-I don't care how 'fine tuned' your machine is. Spandex will NEVER be ok. Never. Nope.
It is sensory overload all the time.
I am the kind of person who thinks sitting in an airport for hours is 'fun' because the people watching is excellent.
Yes, New York is my ideal. It is the world's largest airport.
I went for a brilliant walk in Central Park today, as I love to do on the weekends.
And today I paid attention-mostly to the sheer power of the human body.
Today is the day of the NYC Triathlon-About 3,000 people thought this sounded like fun:
SWIM 1500 Meters in the Hudson starting at 5:30AM- Then- BIKE 40 Kilometers and oh, -Then- RUN 10 Kilometers.
I have to hand it to them. What magnificent bodies they have and I do not mean that the way it sounds. I mean, when you think about it...your body can just be your vessel that takes you through life OR your body can be a fine tuned machine, one you build and challenge daily; a machine that surpasses each previous bar set and one that can do far more than any of us has the concept to grasp (with the exception of all you women who have delivered babies...I am convinced this is the body's greatest accomplishment.)
But, It seems like we have a choice: We can walk through life or we can move through life as a physical force.
3,000 people today showed their physical prowess. I applaud them.
This does not, however, mean I do not think they are crazy.
As I huffed and puffed and watched these stellar athletes of all shapes and sizes- I came to 2 epiphanies:
1- Total Eclipse of the Heart may just be the best song ever. (Ok-so I know this has nothing to do with said blog entry but you know you are thinking about it now.)
And...
2-I don't care how 'fine tuned' your machine is. Spandex will NEVER be ok. Never. Nope.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Gum
There are certain things we take for granted. For example- there are a few things that I know that I think everyone knows, or should know and hey, I don't know everything. In fact, I know next to nothing.
But I do know this:
Smacking gum drops your IQ by 10 points automatically.
I was on the subway yesterday and there in front of me stood one of the most stunning women I had ever seen. Her dress was perfect, her skin, tan, her hair styled to perfection. She was the entire package. Then she turned just enough...the profile...the jaw flailing about...smack smack smack. Damnit. Image shot. She was a gum chewer-no, I take that back- she was a gum smacker.
My grandmother (the embodiment of Emily Post) used to say,
"What is the difference between a cud chewing cow and a gum chewing girl?"
"The intelligent look on the cow's face."
But I do know this:
Smacking gum drops your IQ by 10 points automatically.
I was on the subway yesterday and there in front of me stood one of the most stunning women I had ever seen. Her dress was perfect, her skin, tan, her hair styled to perfection. She was the entire package. Then she turned just enough...the profile...the jaw flailing about...smack smack smack. Damnit. Image shot. She was a gum chewer-no, I take that back- she was a gum smacker.
My grandmother (the embodiment of Emily Post) used to say,
"What is the difference between a cud chewing cow and a gum chewing girl?"
"The intelligent look on the cow's face."
Friday, July 20, 2007
The Start of Day
There is no denying that what happens when you first wake up is likely to set the tone for the entire day- that is, unless you have SUPER, warm and fuzzy, ooey-gooey feelings inside you built up from years of love and appreciation that you can just oh,
'call on' to rise to the surface and cover the present and residual crap that now stares you down like a big zit the day of the prom....
My day began: I just stepped ON and completely crushed my only pair of glasses. It is 6:30AM, I am blind, and now I must resort to my 10 year old Harry Potter frames and HOPE I do not have to see a mirror today.
But hey, it is Friday and I bet, well, maybe, I have some of that 'emergency fund' goodness in me somewhere...I call on it for days like today.
One must turn the tide- even if she cannot SEE it.
Here's to a blind weekend!
'call on' to rise to the surface and cover the present and residual crap that now stares you down like a big zit the day of the prom....
My day began: I just stepped ON and completely crushed my only pair of glasses. It is 6:30AM, I am blind, and now I must resort to my 10 year old Harry Potter frames and HOPE I do not have to see a mirror today.
But hey, it is Friday and I bet, well, maybe, I have some of that 'emergency fund' goodness in me somewhere...I call on it for days like today.
One must turn the tide- even if she cannot SEE it.
Here's to a blind weekend!
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Signs
Okay, so I have not posted in a day or so and guess I was just waiting for something (preferably hilarious) to spark a blog....well, I got a sign- a literal sign- well, not me actually...
A friend of mine was in her semi-new laundromat- her old one ruined her clothes. Hey, I just wanted to interject that ain't no one touching or folding my unmentionables but me, but I digress.
Sitting in said laundromat, she was chatting on her cell phone (and why woudn't she). She was approached by the owner who said "You cannot talk on your cell phone in here" and proceded to point to a sign that read, and I kid you not,
"Cell phones not allowed. They interfere with the machines."
Mmmmwwhhaaa???
Now I have seen a lot of signs in my life, most of which, I feel, serve their purpose...ya know like, "STOP" or "Mason-Dixon Line" but since when did a cell phone, which I can never get reception on anyway, ruin someone's laundry?
A friend of mine was in her semi-new laundromat- her old one ruined her clothes. Hey, I just wanted to interject that ain't no one touching or folding my unmentionables but me, but I digress.
Sitting in said laundromat, she was chatting on her cell phone (and why woudn't she). She was approached by the owner who said "You cannot talk on your cell phone in here" and proceded to point to a sign that read, and I kid you not,
"Cell phones not allowed. They interfere with the machines."
Mmmmwwhhaaa???
Now I have seen a lot of signs in my life, most of which, I feel, serve their purpose...ya know like, "STOP" or "Mason-Dixon Line" but since when did a cell phone, which I can never get reception on anyway, ruin someone's laundry?
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Change of Mood
It is truly one of the great things that God gives us...change.
Though often scarier than not, it is essential and this heavenly A.D.D. He bestowes/imposes allowed my day yesterday to turn.
All it took was music.
Have you noticed how powerful the senses are? And how one will almost always overshadow another? For example, if you are driving and you have no idea where you are going, you have to turn the radio down in order to follow the directions? Or if you are really enjoying the sounds of something...that one song that takes you away, do you not close your eyes to sing it? Why is that?
Anyway, yesterday I put on my iPod shuffle with abuut 13 songs. I had to walk through the park and knew it would take me about 20 minutes. A song came up, not one I am willing to admit right here, and everything CHANGED.
Suddenly, the sun was hitting the buildings in all ways glorious. People were smiling....children were laughing and running about. There are brief moments when you see the face of a child and you could swear, for that instant, you are looking at God Himself...or at least what He intended.
My favorite moment was on Central Park West ( I was huffin' now and my pace was passing a family up on the left). I went to 'pass' and saw a tiny boy, maybe 3, holding so tightly to his granny's neck. He had no shirt on and you could tell she was struggling to keep him steady but I have never seen a more beautiful expression on any 2 faces. She never wanted to let go and he was never going to. He loved his granny. The way he looked at her took my breath away.
I was instantly taken back to summers at the lake in Tennessee, being held by my daddy, the warmth of his body and the towel he had just put around my shoulders the way only a daddy can....hot and sweaty, I was happily glued to him with my sticky, just eaten ice pop fingers around his neck and my face burried there, where beads of sweat gathered above his collar bone.
The song finsished on my iPod Shuffle and rather than 'shuffle' I hit repeat.
I listened to that song a few more times.
Though often scarier than not, it is essential and this heavenly A.D.D. He bestowes/imposes allowed my day yesterday to turn.
All it took was music.
Have you noticed how powerful the senses are? And how one will almost always overshadow another? For example, if you are driving and you have no idea where you are going, you have to turn the radio down in order to follow the directions? Or if you are really enjoying the sounds of something...that one song that takes you away, do you not close your eyes to sing it? Why is that?
Anyway, yesterday I put on my iPod shuffle with abuut 13 songs. I had to walk through the park and knew it would take me about 20 minutes. A song came up, not one I am willing to admit right here, and everything CHANGED.
Suddenly, the sun was hitting the buildings in all ways glorious. People were smiling....children were laughing and running about. There are brief moments when you see the face of a child and you could swear, for that instant, you are looking at God Himself...or at least what He intended.
My favorite moment was on Central Park West ( I was huffin' now and my pace was passing a family up on the left). I went to 'pass' and saw a tiny boy, maybe 3, holding so tightly to his granny's neck. He had no shirt on and you could tell she was struggling to keep him steady but I have never seen a more beautiful expression on any 2 faces. She never wanted to let go and he was never going to. He loved his granny. The way he looked at her took my breath away.
I was instantly taken back to summers at the lake in Tennessee, being held by my daddy, the warmth of his body and the towel he had just put around my shoulders the way only a daddy can....hot and sweaty, I was happily glued to him with my sticky, just eaten ice pop fingers around his neck and my face burried there, where beads of sweat gathered above his collar bone.
The song finsished on my iPod Shuffle and rather than 'shuffle' I hit repeat.
I listened to that song a few more times.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Brussel Sprouts
I think my iron is low or something....I don't feel like myself. Do brussel sprouts have a lot of iron? I think so. I think I'll eat a couple. Ok. I just ate a barrel. I don't feel any better and I have gas. Now I feel like crap and I can't be around anybody. Stellar.
Maybe it is the heat. New York is 8 million people gobbling the same air and walking around on a bagillion miles of sun absorbing asphalt. My shoebox apartment is quiet when the people outside my window don't move or say anything. I am still trying to convince myself that I can make it through the summer without turning on my AC...good idea...I will show you Mr. Utility company...sleeping on my box fan is working well most nights so long as I take a 20 minute iceberg shower. By the time I come back to room temperature, the apartment has cooled off to a pleasant 75 and I can sleep....on my box fan.
Yep. It's fair to say I am in a poop mood today. Oh well. I still have my humor. And my gas.
Maybe it is the heat. New York is 8 million people gobbling the same air and walking around on a bagillion miles of sun absorbing asphalt. My shoebox apartment is quiet when the people outside my window don't move or say anything. I am still trying to convince myself that I can make it through the summer without turning on my AC...good idea...I will show you Mr. Utility company...sleeping on my box fan is working well most nights so long as I take a 20 minute iceberg shower. By the time I come back to room temperature, the apartment has cooled off to a pleasant 75 and I can sleep....on my box fan.
Yep. It's fair to say I am in a poop mood today. Oh well. I still have my humor. And my gas.
Monday, July 16, 2007
I Am Talking To You, Woman
Okay. I am not a body builder or anything but I do consider myself a gym rat of sorts. I mean, I try to go on a daily basis - whether it is to contort myself into positions that could be considered rather inappropriate or just to walk on the treadmill and watch Paula Dean surpass FDA guidelines for cooking with fat batter.
BUT I have do have a bone to pick with you, annoying woman on treadmill next to me- Yes, you. Please try to keep your cell phone conversation down to a quiet shrill while working out. I say working out...did you know your machine goes above 2.0 miles per hour and oh, that Starbucks Frap-a-rap-a-chino (aka- the biggest decision you will have to make all day).. is just another word for milk shake. You burn more calories talking about your Hamptons weekend and your new pair of Jimmy Choos.
BUT I have do have a bone to pick with you, annoying woman on treadmill next to me- Yes, you. Please try to keep your cell phone conversation down to a quiet shrill while working out. I say working out...did you know your machine goes above 2.0 miles per hour and oh, that Starbucks Frap-a-rap-a-chino (aka- the biggest decision you will have to make all day).. is just another word for milk shake. You burn more calories talking about your Hamptons weekend and your new pair of Jimmy Choos.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
I Don't Get It
How many erectile disfunction commercials can they make ? And when they say to see a doctor if your vision blurs or your erection lasts longer than 4 hours...I mean, I'm no man but isn't that the prime time to call a hooker?
Uterus
Okay, so this is my first blog and God knows why I think I have anything to blog about but hey-they say write what you know, right? Well. I know my uterus. That's right. I said it. Wait-I take that back. I THOUGHT I knew my uterus but memory doesn't serve in this case. I forgot my uterus....it forgot me...No - it just stopped working.
I know you women know that 'monthly visitor' (i.e. one more way we got totally screwed over by God in addition to: bras, panty hose, high heels, makeup, chin hair (don't prented you don't have any...lemon juice has its purposes) shaving, PMS, affinity for chocolate and all things fattening, bloating, childbirth, breastfeeding, gravity, menopause, hot flashes, bikinis, and oh yes, outliving everyone else on the planet (where is my retirement fund?)...
Ok but back to the uterus...the period is not always like clockwork. And why would it be? But my uterus went on strike....for a while... and before you think, hey, that's cool, what's the big deal?...Consider....I felt like an 'it'. Maybe I do not want kids but the 'option' is nice. A girl has to have options...this is why I have a closet full of shoes.
Anywho, I decided that my busy lifestyle and trim figure needed to beef up a bit to get my hormones to line up again. Who knew you could eat peanutbutter and almonds and become a woman? BUT- this is not normal, people.
I know my uterus' sabatical was more than a month or so but did it have to come back with friends? What the hell happend? Did it 'outsource' and get donations from other places? Seriously. No one deserves to have to retire 3 pairs of Hanes undies (RIP). And by the way, was the tampon invented by a man? Come on! NO woman would create something that intrusive that serves basically no purpose and, might I just add, that I pray you never experience that twinge of a feeling when you think for one second, oh sh&t...I think my tampon just fell into my sock....yes...we can put space rockets on the moon but 2 inches of cotton that 'expands' is just too diificult.
I know you women know that 'monthly visitor' (i.e. one more way we got totally screwed over by God in addition to: bras, panty hose, high heels, makeup, chin hair (don't prented you don't have any...lemon juice has its purposes) shaving, PMS, affinity for chocolate and all things fattening, bloating, childbirth, breastfeeding, gravity, menopause, hot flashes, bikinis, and oh yes, outliving everyone else on the planet (where is my retirement fund?)...
Ok but back to the uterus...the period is not always like clockwork. And why would it be? But my uterus went on strike....for a while... and before you think, hey, that's cool, what's the big deal?...Consider....I felt like an 'it'. Maybe I do not want kids but the 'option' is nice. A girl has to have options...this is why I have a closet full of shoes.
Anywho, I decided that my busy lifestyle and trim figure needed to beef up a bit to get my hormones to line up again. Who knew you could eat peanutbutter and almonds and become a woman? BUT- this is not normal, people.
I know my uterus' sabatical was more than a month or so but did it have to come back with friends? What the hell happend? Did it 'outsource' and get donations from other places? Seriously. No one deserves to have to retire 3 pairs of Hanes undies (RIP). And by the way, was the tampon invented by a man? Come on! NO woman would create something that intrusive that serves basically no purpose and, might I just add, that I pray you never experience that twinge of a feeling when you think for one second, oh sh&t...I think my tampon just fell into my sock....yes...we can put space rockets on the moon but 2 inches of cotton that 'expands' is just too diificult.
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