not in a while

i've not had much to say in the blog for awhile. i am tired. running a lot. playing the vball. a lot of my friends are in babyland. it's nice there. very cute and entertaining. i am going home to MN for the first time in 12 months on Friday and i am very excited about it. i really enjoy peanut butter and movies. i miss my friend in Haifa and i would like to travel soon. i would also like to take a nap and after that make food. i told my boss the other day that i would go where the company would take me. this means that i may have opportunity to move to Atlanta or LA or some other place. change would be something. that is about it. i would try and garner more written enthusiasm but that would employ creative juices that are currently depleted! i am content and love people in the world. i love you, in fact. yep.

Delightful Weekend Discoveries

1. The Webster movie theater has remodeled. The seats are gloriously comfortable. I think it has been possibly 4 years since I have been there, wow.

2. Printer's Row. Everything about it. Went with Sarah Abbott, had a lovely walk and meal at a cute restaurant.

3. Printer's Row. Again. Loved it. Chestnuts roasted on an open grill. Historical buildings, cute cafes and book shops, the ardent holiday cheer.

4. I can in fact fit children's classes, a 2. 4 mile run and weight lifting, three loads of laundry and a holiday party into one day. That's traveling all over the city in one day via PT. hardcore.

5. Movie in the suburb
6. Got mostly through Halo 2 with Gavin before realizing we were playing the heroic level. I was impressed with us. Proceeded to finish the game. Woot.

Delightful Discovery

The grocery store by my house DOES have gluten free pasta which means my current craving for homemade mac and cheese can in fact, be appeased this very evening. Hooray!

The Last 29 of 29

So today marks the first of the last 29 days of my 20s and the last 29 days of being 29 and I wanted to mark this moment as a happy and contented moment. I have a good job. I can pay my bills. I have people in the world who love me and I am generally doing the things in life that I want to do right now. I know I have growth and pain to come. I know I have goals in my future. I know that I want to accomplish some pretty fantastic feats in the next few years.

In the next few days, however, I think I just want to be thankful and reflective. I am not sad to be turning 30. I am no longer surprised that I did not get married at 24, an age I used to think was damn grown up. After some pitfalls and astonishing leaps in spiritual growth and maturity at 26 and 27 I no longer have an imaginary ‘grownup’ age in my head. Instead I harbor an image of consistent growth and self-awareness as each day passes. I am wistful but not overly so at the thought of children in my future. I think my patience can be maintained. I am working towards financial security, albeit one or two steps behind the race, but it’s aiight.

As I have grown through my 20s I discovered there were too many moments of disappointment based on expectations of a world that only truly existed in fantasy, on television, songs or movies that never quite captured the multiplicitous nature of real life. Going from disappointment to bitterness, to acceptance and love was something that has really started happening for me in these last couple of years, and I suspect that the next few years will serve to solidify that. And I am so ridiculously excited about this happening in my soul.

I am no longer caught up in the current, unaware of the flow that carries me in directions I don’t necessarily want to go. I made the leap and swam out, and am able to watch the world go by without being crippled by it. I am also able to watch the world go by and better appreciate it’s immeasurable beauty.

My younger friends have been very loving and supportive when I mention that I am turning 30 soon-and even though my mentions were not made in dismay, they read into it anyway, and encouragingly tell me that I seem and look 24. Or that 30 ain’t so bad. I just say thank you and smile and agree, but my friends who are already there know the unspoken words behind my casually strewn-about statements. They recognize the triumph and the battles we each fought, internally and externally to get here and be content.

While I cannot say that perceived expectations for women vary much for those of us in our later vs. earlier 20s, I can say that my 22-year-old co-worker used Power Point when she was in 8th grade and I barely used it in college. Cell phones were huge and extremely rare when I graduated college and yet my younger 20-something friends had one in high school. Because of the immense advances in technology over the last 20 years and it’s impact on showing women how to be women, our battles are changing or intensifying (or disappearing) on a daily basis and what I self-imposed on myself and later had to break-down and dissemble is likely different than what younger and older generations of women will have to dissemble to attain self-love.

But what remains clear for all of my extended family is that we all work hard and deserve to appreciate our growth, no matter what.

And some of my sisters know now what I mean when I smile and say I am turning 30. Others will know later. Simply put, the battle is being won every day. Hooray for 30!

Work learns me again.....

Apparently the PC term for toilet paper is 'bath tissue'. We are currently working on a project for (untold sum) of bath tissue for one of our clients. So no more TP'ing people's houses, more like, bath-tissuing people's houses. Hmmmm...does not have the same feel to it. Not as rough. A bit softer really. 'Hey guys, my house totally got bath-tissued. Aw man, this blows, they got it in the trees, too. Man what a hassle to clean up, all that damn bath tissue.' Yep, softer.

Pie Making

Every few months or so I become infected with a domestic ‘bug’ and I find myself battling mad urges to cook, clean and care-take. All that is fine and well ‘cept the fact I’ve no one to share the fruits of my labor with….So last week when I heard there was a potluck to go to, I finally gave in to my steadily growing urge to bake a pie. (I also took a day off work last week to scrub the kitchen floor and pull one over on the bathroom. That was a damn good day)

I’d like to think that the aforementioned affliction has absolutely nothing to do with a movie I saw on the plane not too long ago starring Keri Russell where she makes these really wonderful looking pies-but I suspect that the movie, and my weakness for fall season food both contributed to the conviction that without ever having tried before, I would churn out an ABSOLUTELY fabulous pumpkin pie. And then bring it to the potluck where everyone would be amazed by my skills and eat my pie so fast that I would be bitter but secretly glad I didn’t get a piece, what with my intolerance to gluten.

Earlier in the week I located the recipe. Read it through several times. Blocked out several hours on Saturday for the cooking. ( I planned to watch Smallville episodes too, I mean, fabulous pie-making also involves ‘down time’ aka, while-the-pie-is-in-the-oven tv watching) I had some flour-had it for some time, too. I bought it during my last, desert-inspired domestic infection nearly two years ago-more recent infections dealt with stuffed mushrooms and BBQ meatballs and pulled chicken.

So Saturday after children’s classes I went to the store and threw down $8.99 for a rolling pin. Um, excuse me? Why in the world is a rolling pin $8.99? Also threw down more than I expected for a glass pie plate as the metal ones I had at home were apparently not conducive to fabulous pies. Ok Betty Crocker, if you say so….. I got the rest of the ingredients and went home.


I set everything up and proceeded to make magic. Ater I destroyed 3 pie crusts –over nearly as many hours (don't ask) I realized I was out of luck and out of time so I high-tailed it to the store and bought the ready-made crusts. (word to the wise:use fresh flour, and genuinuely cold water, not tap water with ice cubes in it to cool it down)

When I returned from the store I noticed the ready-made crusts and pans seemed smaller than the illustrious glass pan I had purchased but I paid that no mind and poured in the filling…and kept pouring and pouring and then I realized I had overfilled the pan. The pie crusts were small enough that I could have made two pies! But by then it was too late.

Well the pie was made, overfull and not as from scratch as I wanted, and because I overfilled it I couldn’t put the foil around the crust so the edges burnt a bit. I brought it to the potluck and like all successful potlucks, there was too much food so when the night ended, my burnt pie had not been touched. So I lugged it home. Sigh. I also tasted it. And it was mighty tasty. But was it easy? Not so much. And now I have a whole pie at home with only me to eat it. Hmm.....

announcement of miniscule proportions

I would like to announce that despite the fact that I still do not have internet access at home, I am now firmly esconced in the world wide web, aka interweb, aka online universe. It's been slow in it's approach....blog some 4 years ago and Friendster some time around then. Later and very begrudgingly, MySpace....and now in just the last two months, Flickr and Facebook. I am here. I ain't leaving. I live here now.

rockstar

Nothing like being on a slow-moving train on a gloomy fall morning while listening to a melancholy love song to make you feel like you are in a music video. I felt just a little more glamorous when I realized that all things had converged at just the right moment and were eliciting feelings of decorative sadness in my being. I leaned my head against the window and clung tightly to my backpack and tried to assume the 'life sucks' facial expression that properly befits a music video, but no one will ever know how successful I was in creating said artistic image. Probably the business professional outfit did not help. But the backpack I held did have a hole in it, but instead of all my worldly posessions, it contained my gym shoes and sports bra for the run I plan on attempting later at the gym in my building....sigh.

Specialty Speciality and Specialness

Ergh. I've been staring at the word Specialty all day while updating contact information for the gas project I am working on and just now I finally got to sending out the email to the 30 or so suppliers I've chased all day. And believe you me, I looked and looked through the email, saw nothing amiss, and sent it out. Composed initially by my colleague and teammate, and altered twice by me, I thought to myself, in lower case letters (because one is always more interesting when one thinks in lowercase), 'there ain't no mistakes here, no siree.' But then when the email showed up in my boss' inbox, and she sits right behind me, I noticed it said 'speciality gases' instead of 'specialty gases.' mortified i asked her if there was any chance speciality was the proper British way to say it. She abstained from answering, not wanting to incriminate herself, having been burned before in the past what with the different way her people and my people flaunt the English language to each other.

I looked it up on the internet (oh the internet) and both words DO exist. Slightly different uses, of course. But I was not necessarily wrong in not catching and correcting that extra i. All I can say is that the word special has ABSOLUTELY NO MEANING for me whatsoever, and I do not think it will for a very long time.

Take-Out Box

he sat there with his head down
his take-out box next to him on the bench
but instead of food inside
it carries a little piece of him

happiness and laughter mingle
with loss and sorrow
in the halls of a place where neither pair
recognizes the other for what it is

‘Oh kitty!' cried the group that walked by
oblivious to the colors of misery shading our tread
part of me wants to correct them
but the moment passes all too quickly

you can tell that the men who do this
do it everyday hundreds of times,
their manner not quite reverent enough
their explanation not quite long enough
as they skim through the details like
rocks skim over water

i keep trying to ask more questions
or maybe just the same one over again, rephrased, each time
expecting more detail, expecting them to say that
the injection actually cures cancer and heals any sickness

she seems calm and unafraid to be handled by a stranger
and when it’s done she lays on the table and actually sighs-
breath once ragged and quick becomes slow and peaceful
and her whole body gives off slight purr that fades
very slowly into nothing

she sleeps, and because instead of fire we choose earth,
we, too, get a take-out box of our own.

10 Things I like About Myself

I was reprimanded by Abi for not doing this yet. So I do it now. I do not know who to tag because the people I know who visit here have been tagged already. Except Ingrid. And Sarah A. I think anyway....so umm..yeah you are tagged. Am I supposed to link you now?

1. I am nearly never bored
2. I have passion for beautiful things
3. I crack myself up. A handful of others think I am funny too and that is good.
4. I like my hair
5. I am resilient
6. I am reflective and positive
7. I love people easily
8. I like my writing and my volleyball
9. I am a good friend when you need it
10. I have straight teeth and a nice smile

Let's Talk about Race, Baby

So a co-worker and I have been having fly-by book conversations for the last few months, starting from when she spied my lunch time entertainment "The Children of Hurin" by JR Tolkien. Later she saw me pouring over the last Harry Potter and these two titles convinced her that we might have similar reading interests. I was suspicious, because I had yet to notice certain tell-tale affinities in her that I usually notice in my fellow book fan buddies. But taking it in stride, I agreed to read a couple of her suggestions and even gave her two of my own for our respective upcoming plane rides.

Neither of the books she gave me inspired immediate response, so after I tore through three library books on my vacation last week I finally decided to read the one she gave me with the most renown....."East of Eden" by John Steinback. It is well written but the first several pages are so full of descriptive nature prose that I kept throwing the book down in impatience. I then realized I hate descriptive prose about nature. It bores me. But that's just me.

But the image of her asking me if I had read either book kept popping into my head and though I imagined she would not be too offended if I told her I couldn't get into it, I managed to perservere enough into the story...

I came to not one but several places in the story where they talk about black people very casually using the N word. One character, a brothel owner, is referred to simply as the 'N' and she possesses a steel sexuality that he talks about in a poetic way. It goes on for most of a short prose-y descriptive chapter. And by the time I am done with the chapter I feel really offended and angry at the person who gave this book to me telling me how it was her favorite favorite book in the whole world.

Now I am not beyond recognizing good literature in spite of history. But a part of me wants her to REMEMBER that that was in the book and REMEMBER that that is my biological history and at the very least, call it out for what it was. It makes me wonder however briefly, what white people internally feel and think when they come across stuff like that. Do they recognize themselves in the literature, do they feel horror, are they alienated from the writer as I am? I seriously doubt it. But I learned last night that I am supposed to suspend my suspicion, be grateful and forgiving.

In a discussion last night, a friend was expressing her difficulty with maintaining good feeling toward members of society who make racially insensitive or ignorant comments in her presence. Our mentor had been reading to us quotes from the "Advent of Divine Justice" and another person in our group said he, as a Persian, could identify with her black experience and for a moment it felt heated in the discussions about the differences in those two historical experiences and their subsequent impact on the groups of people involved.

But it got me thinking about how much we need to talk about it, keep talking about it. A few months ago an acquaintance of mine joyously pronounced how wonderful her mother was for not being afraid to speak to a black person. When I mentioned my issue with this, I was told that in that particular ethnic group, this was a huge accomplishment.

Back to the book, I wondered what I could possibly communicate to my co-worker that impresses upon her how it feels to read something like that without getting her defensive, which accomplishes no feat......I thought about what it might feel like if we lived in a world where prostitution was so taboo, it had been banned on an international scale for over 200 years and completely and utterly frowned upon not just in public, like it is now, but in private too. If women finally reached a status where we were universally viewed as equally valuable citizens whose purpose is ever so much more than a tool for man's sexual 'needs'. And yeah, then I could tell her that it's like reading a book where prostitution is the norm and some man gives it to you raving and you wonder and think and suspect that the man who gave it to you takes no issue with the inequality of description. And you fear, too, that if you brought it up the man would laud the ART of the book and the talent, and excuse the language as a function of the past, not worth talking about at all because after all we did BAN it long ago.....

I'm just saying we should talk about it. That's all. Even if it feels like nails on a chalkboard sometimes.

Upon Returning....Lots of Dirty Work

This is a quick update. I have returned from my nine days away from the city. I had a great time. A very good time. Made me realize some big changes are needing to be made. Aside from those big changes, which are a few months in coming and not worth mentioning here at the moment, other things are happening.....

Let me preface what I am about to say by pointing out that I am not yet emotionally distraught. I could be soon.

1. My cat is dying. I do not have any details I feel like sharing at the moment. Funny enough, another cat showed up on my doorstep the other day and I thought very seriously about keeping it....but I didn't. I will likely be putting her down within the next two weeks but this all depends how soon I can get a friend to help me by driving me and her to the appropriate place.

2. I seem to be a victim of fraud. Someone managed to get my numbers and used my CC at Greenlake, of all places, and then this morning at Walgreens, for some VERY LARGE purchases that have maxed out my credit card and put me in a very frustrating position. I am still waiting to find out about more details on this as well.

3. The exterminator came while I was gone to get rid of the mice who were leaving me presents in the kitchen for the last couple of weeks. He came and was successful at killing them, but now they are dead in my walls and my apartment smells like dead animal. Luckily it's been breezy and with my windows open it is not so discernible.....

the highlight of the weekend...

I am aware of my obstinancy. I know when I am being 'uptight'. I have certain fears, complicated ones, beset by past experiences and colored by mere physical emotion that force words to come out of my mouth and deem me the official 'uncool' party pooper. And mostly I am ok with that. I also know that mostly I can be a delightful and charming soul. And I was looking forward to canoeing, I really was. Being on or near bodies of water calms me and rejuvenates me. I had the pleasure of paddleboating the day before and was generally enjoying the last day of what proved to be a lovely weekend out of the city.

But when Eileen and I got out on the lake, rowing far enough out that we were the only humans around, she started talking crazy and my uptight side reared it's ugly head. Neither of us had suits, and though I had the sense to leave my bag and phone and shoes at the dock with the rental gal, I still did not fancy a swim. She did.

Visions of lost jewelry, contact lenses, soaking pants, and tipped over boats swirled in my head as I tried to dissuade her from her intentions whilst avoiding looking like a complete scaredy-cat. She was nice enough to not take the mickey out on me and her kindness relieved me enough to modify my protestations to a form of brave detachment: "Well, if you really want to and you think you won't tip the boat over when you get back in...." Splash!

It was all she needed in terms of permission. She swam like a fish for mere minutes before getting back in the boat. When she crawled over the side and sprawled part on the canoe bench and mostly on the floor, I turned around to tell her she was my hero for doing it without incident. I suddenly felt brave and hopeful...if she could do it...then maybe......I was verbally applauding her and mentally hoping she would sit on her bench soon so we could balance correctly and get a move on when I found myself under the boat and submerged in water.

"Omigod! Do you totally hate me?" she cried from the other side of the boat as I marveled at the buoyancy of my capri jeans. I was laughing hysterically. We had capsized. I turned the canoe over but it was filled with water. I grabbed the oars and Eileen's plastic shoes and started using one to get water out. She asked me what I was doing-I was totally committed to sitting there for ever how long it would take to get the water out but apparently you cannot 'unswamp' a boat like that. So we gathered ourselves and began to swim ashore, dragging the boat behind us.

Apparently she was a boat something or other and knew about things like unswamping boats. Almost to the dock, we were 'rescued', sort of, well, the boat was. The rental gal took our boat and we crawled up the side of a concrete wall to land with the help of a nice lady and dripped our way over to the docks where Erik took a picture of us. After I had changed, we left Green Lake behind..only to contemplate next years memories. Sigh.

Had to happen eventually.....

I was robbed on the train. They didn't get much, just my lunch bag with dirty tupperware and a large large cucumber....
Leslie

Terrifying

I dreamed last night that I was baking fresh cut green and red peppers and when I was getting ready to take them out of the oven, they slipped back further into the oven hot place and combusted. I was in my parent's house except it was my house. I saw flames shooting out of the back of the oven and through the bottom and then they filled the room (like in that movie Backdraft) and I was incredulous because how does that happen when baking peppers? I tried to put it out but I knew as I tried that I was signing my own death certificate by standing there futilely throwing water on the fire that was already catching on my clothes and skin. After I abandoned the effort and dream-slow moved toward the back door which I knew would be locked, I began to contemplate the way my skin would look after they found my body. And then I woke up. EWW! I have never ever had a dream like that.

I looked up the meaning on my trusty website and I am still at a loss as to my own inner psyche. Damn. I am burning up inside apparently....


Fire

To dream of that you are being burned by fire, indicates that your temper is getting out of control. Some issue or situation is burning you up inside.

To dream that a house is on fire, indicates that you need to undergo some transformation. If you have recurring dreams of your family house on fire, then it suggests that you are still not ready for the change or that you are fighting against the change. Alternatively, it highlights passion and the love of those around you.

breakfast

also, i had sloppy joes for breakfast. in a corn tortilla with some cheese. it was very satisfactory.

unfortunate

its terribly unfortunate that i have fallen into a self-induced harry potter coma. i have not surfaced for weeks and i am afraid i will suffer from severe withdrawal when ive reentered the world of the non magical....i read the last book and then i reread all the rest and am now rereading the last book again. please note i have ingested no less than 200 pages of hp every day for the last three weeks. you do the math. ok wait i will do the math....that is more than 4200 pages. i am on the last book now and keep looking at the clock maniacally waiting for lunch time to roll around so i can reimmerse myself in the illusion. i know what happens and i am still addicted. what is wrong with me?

friends...

i don't think i've mentioned the fact that lately i spend most of my social time with three white men over the age of 50. i can't tell you how strange that is or how indicative it is of how i am changing. these are kind men, supportive men and there is nothing untoward about my friendship with them at all. nor is there anything fatherly. mentorly, perhaps.....but these are just friends who share a love of the same thing: volleyball. i've seen them each in turn in pain and weakness and in great strength. i am not sure if they've seen me in the variety of lights that tend to strengthen a friendship but i do believe they have. anyway just was thinking about it!

If I were a smart ass columnist who had a column I would write this....

I keep seeing people who are lost in the '80s and I'm not talking about those little fashionistas who were too young to get tired of stretch pants and off-the-shoulder shirts, skinny pants and pointy toed shoes. They forget we used to layer our socks, too.

The thing is I've been in the world long enough to see that what my mom was saying is, in fact, true and now I begin to wonder as we cycle through a new stage of 'cutting edge' fashion which era I will inevitably get lost in-unaware as these men and women are-that feathered hair, wings and mullets and banana clips only make you look dated and not dateable.

When I was in college and serious platforms were in style, my mom would scoff at me and lament me as unenlightened-she seemed disappointed and determined to connect my fashion choice to some failure of the feminist movement of the 60s. I looked at pictures of women wearing shoes from 'back then' and managed to convince myself that my shoes were TOTALLY different. Which they were, and they weren't. A few years separation from that time period and the occasional glance at my bright red platform tennis shoes from 1997 at the bottom of my shoe shelf have since convinced me of that.

The fact is I've noticed a bit of recycling going on, and try as I might, as I've seen things go out of style, I loathe them coming back into style. Of course, my attachment here and there to a favorite shirt or pair of pants has had me treading in dangerously unfashionable waters and I have a few things in my closet that came back in style so I was happy about that.

I am sure my disgust is in part because I suffer a little bit from consumer conditioning, I mean, how can I move on to the next fashion if I am still digging the one from last week, or from 10 years ago? Gotta spend spend spend, right? But a big part of my irritation with fashion recycling is that changes in fashion mark passages of time in an undeniably vivid way.....and if you've had hopes and dreams that have not been realized this can be a crude, colorful and expensive awakening.

And so my flippant mind sometimes thinks little smart ass thoughts about people as they pass me by and then I worry and wonder if maybe I need to go shopping again.

(Truth is, I've started to like those pointy toed shoes but you can bet I will NEVER try skinny pants or them dresses over 'leggings' formerly known as stretch pants-much too much like my first day of school outfit in 7th grade)

babies!

My apartment is not baby-proof. I knew that. But when Kayla came over I knew that I underestimated my own energy levels at keeping her away from items of interest. Last night Kayla (age: 17 months) came over while her Mom went to a birthday/benefit party. Mom left at 750, running late. After she teared up a bit at the disappearance of her mother, I made Kayla dinner (pizza and strawberries) and tried to get her to watch the Electric Company, which held her attention for approximately 3 minutes. She ate the strawberries and tried to clean up after herself, "Ah None!" she kept saying. (translation, Alll Done!) barely gripping the bowl as she tottered to the kitchen to put it away. Came back and kept opening her mouth wide to receive pizza that I was apparently supposed to put in her mouth, only to have her grin and say "HOTTT!" as she slobbered over half a bite and put it back on the plate. Then I watched her chase my frightened cat around the apartment while screeching-Addy was very disturbed. I watched her bang on my keyboard (recently re-acquired after 4 years on loan to someone) and I watched her try to turn on my tv, turn off my tv, turn on my tv, turn off my tv, and then try to destroy a DVD. I watched her attempt to play in the toilet, crawl on top of chairs, try to open the refrigerator, and huff and puff when she couldn’t do that. At one point she grabbed my bedroom trash bin and carried it around triumphantly for a bit, it was the same size as she was. I was running after her like a crazy woman. At some point I knew, just knew, it was time for Mommy to come back….and I looked at the clock, and it was 845. I had been running around for less than an hour!

Then I found out today an old best friend from high school is a few months pregnant as are other members of a very fond crew of mine from back in the day. Sigh.
To Moms all around, I salute you!

the horse and the realization

These last two Monday evenings at the beach I've had a delightful sighting. A gorgeous chestnut horse galloping the length of the beach and traipsing by the court where I play volleyball. It is ridden by a cop who seems to think his presence is in dire need at the beach, where lots of dangerous people go to sunbathe. Actually I think he just goes because he knows at that time of the day his beautiful horse can stretch his legs a little.

I have discovered something about myself. I am nervous around most people when it comes to performing. HORRIFICALLY nervous. I play ball worse, dance worse, sing worse, speak worse, etc. I hate performing. But I love doing all of those things. I have not been able to play normal on a Monday night this whole summer because I am playing with people I do not know. I get all angry and imaginative before the game and then when I finally get on the court I get all shaky. And then my game sort of goes out the window.

Also, I hate going to parties by myself. I don't know if this is a new thing, but I think it is.....in the past I believe I would always make sure I had a couple of drinks before going to a party but that is not something I can do anymore. This sounds a bit bad, and it is. I don't know how much this habit caused my current reluctance or merely masked it.

There have been times when I have actually gone all the way to a place, and stood outside the party and then gone home. I did that this weekend. I called the one person I thought would be there whose presence would give me comfort and when she did not answer, I went home. I think I know why I am like that, but I am not sure how to put it into words. At least not right now.

Morning Story

So this morning when I got out of bed I felt well-rested because I finally had the brilliant idea of shutting my door and keeping the air conditioner on so I couldn’t hear my slightly demanding cat meow at me through the night. Therefore I only snoozed once or twice before getting out of bed at 6:40am to get ready for work. Feeling chipper and only slightly regretful that I did not get up in time to go running, I started to tackle the disarray in my apartment. I put all my dirty clothes in a pile in the hallway for when I come home later. I washed some dishes that had been sitting there for a couple of days. I emptied the litter box and the garbage. All this while barefoot and as the clutter disappeared my heart felt lighter and lighter. At one point, while putting something away in the pantry, I stepped on something and heard a distinctive crack. Cringing, I looked down, wondering what delightful item I had broken with my bare feet. It was one of those plastic hanger thingys that you can get from Target and stick on your wall to hang things on. I had been using mine to hang the broom and mop, but humidity had long since helped this lone white piece to the floor.

Relieved it wasn’t something I valued a bit more, I continued on my morning duties. Looking at the clock I realized I had just enough time to shower and put together my volleyball stuff and possibly even make a lunch to bring to work. I jumped in the shower (who jumps in showers, really, though? I actually stepped quite gingerly into mine) and when I was done I began my after shower rituals of tooth brushing and lotion applying….and stepped on something in the bathroom and heard another distinctive crack. “Crap, what else could I possibly be breaking this morning?” I said to myself. Then I looked down and much to my disgust a very large, very dead spider sat in the spot my foot had just been.

bowling and burritos

so last friday we had our quarterly away-day and we did a group volunteer project (a company first) and then they took us bowling and fed us mini burgers, fries, chips and salsa and corn dogs, hummus and veggies, and loads of pop and beer. i did not consume all that was offered. i did have a mini burger though, no bun. and lots of chips. and some veggies for good measure. and we had a bowling contest. and i love bowling but am unashamedly awful at it. or so i thought....

when they named our teams (split the whole company into four groups) for the bowl off i was a bit worried about me and my team for various reasons. i turned to my colleague and we both agreed our team would probably lose. not sure of his reasons why but i was certain we would because of my own personal track record-i have never not come in last place in a bowling experience.

we began our venture with a bit of hilarity and half-heartedly cheered each other on. halfway through the game when we realized we were in fact, very close to winning, things got a little out of control. on my team was one Welsh man and a Brit and a very loud Midwestern former NFL pro-football player. i am not kidding. there was shouting. shouting with accents. hand claps all around. more shouting. we won by two points. qualified just barely for the championship round. this time around our competition was fierce and we had to bring it. the other team had an award-winning bowler and another chap, both of whom had their OWN SHOES AND BALLS. and guess what? we still won. very obnoxiously, i've been told. it was about the most fun i'd had bowling in a long, very long time. i rolled a handful of strikes. it was unbelieveable.

then this morning we got our mucho coveted prize. a $25 gift certificate to chipotle. yes. fantastic.

Honey I Baked!

Here is something the person I next live with ought to know about me. I tend to find motivation and inspiration to do pressing things mostly in the early morning or late at night, when I should be doing other things like sleeping or getting ready for work.

For example, last night I vacuumed, washed dishes, scrubbed the floor and made lunch for the week all starting at about 1045pm. Finished around midnight. Listened to Damian Marley and Corrine Bailey Rae. Made homemade salad dressing and cut up my spinach and romaine for a delicious avocado salad and also an Ethiopian lentil dish. I am set for the week of lunches and then some.

But I had a bit of a problem, and this is not the first time this has happened with my late night cooking affairs. Namely...the onions and the garlic. Cutting them up in little tiny pieces is something I am not particularly good at. I cry a lot. My fingers get all stained, and last night, stinged. I had three or four completely invisible cuts in my hands that kept getting all full of onion....even after I was done cutting and washed my hands. It was so bad that when I flossed my teeth later, my lips got all tingly and swollen from my fingers. Bleh. Then this morning, when I thought I was safe, I tried to put in my contacts and stung my eyeballs. ger. I need a solution to this issue.....

because that's how it is...

i spoke quite a bit of french today at work and while i am sure the Quebec-ians(?) understood me, i could not understand them. but it was fun...i need to brush up. we are referring our london office to call them now because we are a bit incapable....but someday perhaps....also, for lunch i am walking over to the taste......yum, grease.

sidenote

i didn't realize my only opportunity to see transformers (much anticipated and looked forward to) with friends was foiled mostly by the fact that i do not have a car. i was stuck in a place with no way to get to the place i wanted to be. now if i want to see it i have to go alone and i may be pms'ing but i feel like crying my eyes out right now. i don't want to go see it alone. but i want to see it. i was thinking all sorts of dreadful and weepy and largely untrue thoughts and feeling really sorry for myself and then someone here mentioned they are getting rid of their car and my brain started thinking......on my lunch i did some checking and it turns out.....i may, just may, be able to buy and afford a car! rearranging has to be done, but i might be able to do it. won't bring me back to a time when i can see a movie i really want to see with friends, but it may have an impact on future opportunities. turns out my insurance would be really cheap depending on some things......must look into it.....must call dad.....excitment ensues. i still feel a bit weepy though. go away unhappy thoughts.

goodbye phone

so i bought a new phone the other day. it was time. the old one was nicked and old enough that the phone man at the store snorted and scoffed in disbelief when he saw it. but i loved that phone. it had a little mirror on it, which, i'm not gonna lie, i used to see if i had unsightly things on my face. very useful and handy. nobody likes a booger nose. also, i dropped it in green lake, once-the deepest lake in wisconsin-two years ago. after some days, the phone worked just fine. it was a miracle and put me forever in trust of the LG brand. plus, LG, i mean, those are my initials! it's seen me through becoming a Bahai, losing a best friend, new jobs and lost jobs, new apartments and new pets, friends moving to different countries.....it's been with me through all of that. and it's been trusty and dependable. i loved it. i'll admit there were times when i wanted fancy new fangled technology, like maybe a camera or video, or even better ringtones. but i was content. i was happy.

but like i said earlier, it was time.

so i went to the store and i got one. with a text plan. (i really don't like texting. i think it's a cop out on communication but people were texting me so much that i was literally paying out my ass to read their crap) someone actually asked me out via text. i still haven't replied. is that mean? but really that is neither here nor there. what is here is the fact that i got a phone with all that new fangled technology and i am charmed. i'm not gonna lie. i like it. i already have a video of cutie kayla dancing to the 'wheels on the bus'. and a picture of me and two ladies who do not live in chicago.....memories frozen on a thing that fits in my pocket. don't know what i will do with it all just yet. but it's there. and people can text me now. i am only paying 4 dollars a month for it as opposed to what i what i was paying before. hooray. no more bitterness. just love and love. and technology. gee......but i still miss that old phone.

im pretty sure this is me venting a little

i am very cranky today. my natural state of being is 'lazy' and i have not been very respectful of that lately. i have even said the f-word a few times today, and i am not a swearer.

do you ever feel like you are sliding over ice (very thin and breakable) when trying to communicate with someone? i called a company to determine if they produce a certain type of steel and instead of answering my question i was given a spiel and i was completely unable to recover and determine whether what the person was saying was in any way an answer to my question. i re-asked my question and was given another spiel with a slightly defensive edge to it and again i was unable to find the means to clarify the encounter. finally i just told him i did not understand what he was saying and asked him for his email-maybe the written word will pull me out of the icy waters i've fallen in.

either way, i am cranky and i've just told my teammates that i cannot make the vball game tonight, which makes me feel relieved because now dirty clothes can get cleaned and food prepared for the week and sleep acquired but makes me feel guilty because i am the only girl who showed up last time (it's upper inter 4's) and my other female teammates do not show they will have to forfeit-and we are a decently good and competitve team. plus, i like vball so i miss it when i don't do it.

all i know is i need to be honorable to my natural state of being very soon...perhaps in the form of a few days off from work??? i do get that whole 4 week thing to think about. grr. argh.

Double booked

I made plans to see this bluegrass band in my 'hood tonight with an old roommate of mine who is moving to NY in a couple of months. I also made plans to see a Brazilian band downtown with a new friend of mine. I had not heard from Bluegrass friend, and after I called and left two messages, decided she was standing me up and I fatefully made other plans-not out of spite but because I genuinely wanted to spend time with this other friend and listen to music.

Secretly, I knew I wasn't being stood up but I was frustrated that she never returned my call (note: we never spoke about the event, I had just left a message asking if she wanted to go a month ago and she did not return my call until late yesterday) I meant to have gall and when she did call me to tell her I had made other plans but I sheepishly called the other friend and canceled, asking forgiveness. Then I called Bluegrass friend and re-established, or, just established, our plans.

I am happy to see her tonight, we only see each other once every 4-6 months or so....and she was once a very good friend. But I am not happy about my insecurity and behavior and ultimately, my attachment to the situation in general.

I will not go into detail but every once in awhile life jerks you back to the past in a such fierce way that you begin to question yourself and feel all uncomfortable in your skin and *gurg*, I like it not.

New name

Let's face it, I haven't been a waitress for several years. And I am no longer disgruntled. I am quite content, really. This blog has taken the place of my diary, er, journal (last regular entry was circa 2003) and while I can pretty much guarantee the raw stuff that usually goes in the journal (much more grown up word than 'diary') did not and does not make the cut for this blog, the blog has still accomplished the feat of soothing my overly obsessive mind at times and given clarity to turmoil over the years.

So hence, the new name....delineations. I think I may still have to revive the journal, some thoughts should remain raw and uncut.

But it was time for a change. Not a big one. But a change.

Buried Steel

So I've finished up the cheese project. Rick, one of the suppliers who participated in the event is going to send me a few pounds of cheese as a thank you. It's because I am fabulous and helpful.

I am currently working on four other projects, one of which is disposable gloves. I can't tell you who the disposable gloves are for, but think MAJOR FAST FOOD CHAIN. It is very interesting- I have a hand in helping billions of people get gas and indigestion.

My next project? Steel sheets for coffins. I'm not kidding. Next week I begin researching manufacturers who make steel sheets for coffins. Quality steel, mind you. Not the cheap raw steel for use in countless other products, but the pretty kind that gets buried with memories and broken hearts.

Days later....

She sits at her desk and craves....something. She smells the ghost of a taste and wonders what delightful memory hides just outside of her consciousness. She stares sublimely at the steel and stone buildings outside her window, framed by sunshine and blue sky, and tries to recall the taste-Indian? Persian? But no, it's Ethiopian food she craves as her stomach starts to remind her of her simple human need for sustenance every few hours.....mmmmm.....Ethiopian.

you know it's late when....

You say "It gut my wrench," about a movie (Children of Men) and the one person you are with says, "Yeah, me too," and the other person you are with merely murmurs a wordless assent and then you all move on without the slightest acknowledgement.

I don't feel nearly as bent as I thought I would this morning which is nothing but fantastic. The weekend was wonderful an mildly exhausting and now we are all IPG-ing and I am slotted to teach teach teach all week. I am looking forward to some things I have planned.....

I can take the tenderness but not the taste

Made my second trip to the dentist this week (it seems one more is in order after this) and they finished the 'deep cleaning' needed to attack my rather decidedly stubborn gingivitis. Next week we tackle the small small cavity. Three visits in all is not bad after a 7-year hiatus.

Doctor S very efficiently applied the anesthetic to my upper gums and within minutes I felt numb and she proceeded with her cleaning, sticking the pointy thing in my mouth and deep into my gums....it was only slightly painful (anesthetic!) and apparently very bloody.

Because of the blood I was prescribed a mouth wash for the next....year. Morning and night. After I brush and before I floss. I am gross. It is gross. On Tuesday I tried to eat breakfast after the mouth wash and could not not taste my food. At lunch I could not taste my food. Finally at 8 pm that evening I could taste my food.

My gums are still a bit raw and tender after the cleaning. Kind of like I imagine they are when you are a baby and your teeth are coming in. I actually enjoy flossing b/c it feels like scratching an itch. But I could do without the mouthwash, thank you. Thank you very much.

One thing to note though, when I left the Dr's office and wandered around my neighborhood in an anestheticzed haze, I kept touching my upper lip, which felt indescribably soft. Softer than my lower lip. It got me thinking. I touch myself all the time and never feel like that. (ok no need to go THERE, you know what I am saying) But I was thinking about the sensation of touch and how there are two things going on when I touch my own lip. I feel my lip with my finger and I feel my finger with my lip. Both body parts are sending signals to the brain simultaneously.

Which brings me to the question; was my lip soft because of the anesthetic? Or because for once, I could feel my lip with my finger without my lip feeling my finger? (Does that make sense?)

Does the way my finger feels somehow cancel out or negate or equalize the standard lip softness and the medicine allowed me to take a perspective on my own person that I had never experienced? I would have given anything at the moment to have a friend around to verify the varying level of softness of my upper and lower lips...that is weird I know but come on, isn't this interesting?

accomplishment

I've been on this ten week plan to get me to running 1 mile to running 5 miles. I decided in order for me to finally and really get in shape after quitting smoking that I would have to set an action type goal rather than 'just work out' and I've been toying with the idea of doing a triathlon. Trouble is, I've HATED HATED HATED running. I like biking and swimming, though I am not so good at it at the moment.



But running is another thing coming, literally. But a little over a year ago I ran for three minutes and walked for 30 and it felt like death. I have been slowly working my way up to running for about 17 minutes, when a couple of months ago when I asked a co-worker and marathon runner to help me work my way up to 6 miles- the distance of a 10K run-typical for the type of triathlon I am interested in.



Hence, the plan...which requires that I run 4 or 5 days a week with increasing time and distance goals. I went to NY a couple of weeks ago and had to take some days off due to severe lower back pain (bad air mattress sleeping). So last week I took it easy, running 3 times and only 1-2miles a day. I felt like crap trying to go one mile last week. But this week I am determined to forge through with my schedule. If I start from where I left off, this week I run 3 miles a day, 4 days a week, with one day reserved for 'x train' or volleyball, in my case. Next week I run 35 minutes 4 days, the week after I alternate 40 and 30 minute runs, with the last day being 4 miles, and so on for another three weeks until I've hit 5 miles. Then I will work it up to 6 and voila!


Crazy right? I would have quit long before now if hitting these gradually increasing goals wasn't so ridiculously satisfying. It's kind of like my new cigarette, if you will. ENDORPHINS. This morning I ran a lovely 3 miles and it felt so damn good. And who doesn't like that feeling?

it's my half birthday today

and i went to the dentist for the first time in 7 years. i have to go back so i still await the total damage report...but i think minor gum disease and one cavity and eventual removal of wisdom teeth is what i am looking at. but she said my teeth look good. oh glorious and coveted good health insurance hooray! and in six months i will have been in this world for 30 years....golly.

i love dirt

this weekend i got to sift, with reckless abandon, through pounds and pounds of dirt and it was fun. i love dirt.

Brothers and Mothers

My brother, whom I love dearly, is about as smart as they come and he is warm and loving soul who is always educating himself, and sometimes, educating us. And it's always so wonderful to hear from him. The following is an email he sent to us this past weekend:

Hey Family,I hope everyone is doing well... I just wanted to pass along something I just heard about the origins of Mother's Day. Apparently, the holiday we know as being mostly about cards, flowers and brunch actually has its origins in this country as a day for peace. In 1870 Julia Ward Howe, better known as the author of the famous Civil War song Battle Hymn of the Republic, began a movement to have Mother's Day recognized as a national holiday. Her interest in this idea grew from her outrage at the violence and carnage of the Civil War. For several years she convened a gathering of prominent women's rights advocates for the Mother's Peace Day Observance on the second Sunday in June. Though she didn't live to see the adoption of Mother's Day as a national holiday, the day we celebrate tomorrow owes its origins to the efforts of this revolutionary woman, and many others like her.

Here are the words of Julia Ward Howe's Mother's Day Proclamation of 1870 that convey the spirit of her intent or Mother's Day:

Arise then...women of this day! Arise, all women who have hearts!Whether your baptism be of water or of tears! Say firmly:"We will not have questions answered by irrelevant agencies,Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage, For caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.We, the women of one country,Will be too tender of those of another country To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."From the bosom of a devastated Earth a voice goes up with Our own. It says: "Disarm! Disarm!The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."Blood does not wipe our dishonor,Nor violence indicate possession.As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war, Let women now leave all that may be left of homeFor a great and earnest day of counsel. Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means Whereby the great human family can live in peace...Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar, But of God -In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality, May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenientAnd at the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,The amicable settlement of international questions,The great and general interests of peace.

I wonder if this is going to wind up on a Hallmark card anytime soon? For a short reading of this proclamation by stars like Vanessa Williams, Felicity Hoffman, and Alfre Woodard, check out this link: http://youtube.com/watch?v=LtzAwo1HU2w

Jeffrey

isnt that just the thing?

1. I bought stamps last week. It usually takes me a few months to go through an entire book of stamps. Prices went up today.

2. Since I am running quite a bit I have gotten it into my head that I need more running gear. I stopped into a 'running' store and was amazed by the tiny, miniscule pieces of 'wicking' material that is supposed to constitute women's running shorts. They were ranging in price from $40-100 and wouldn't even cover one cheek, if you know what I mean. They also had skirts. Who runs in skirts? Answer: People in my neighborhood as witnessed by me this morning on my way to the gym before work.

In case you were wondering about cheese, part 2

Blue Cheese Description#1

Blue cheese is made from cow's milk and inoculated with Penicillium roquefortti mold spores that result in the characteristic veining and flavor.

Blue Cheese Description#2

Crumbled white-yellowish cheese with greenish blue veins evenly spread throughout the cheese. Some irregular distributed holes with a tangy sharp taste.


Oh, and the difference between Feta and Goat? Feta can be made from goat or sheep's milk but is increasingly made from cow's milk (I suspect to save on costs) and goat cheese is made from....you guessed it, goat milk. Which is better for you? Neither but if you have to pick go with Goat b/c of all the SODIUM and CHOLESTEROL in the Feta......

I did not like blue cheese before and I was iffy on Feta. This 'new' information reinforces those feelings.....

Descriptive words used for cheeses:

rindless, smooth, creamy, nutty, slightly acidic, lactic flavor, salt notes, off flavor, porcelain-like, soft


Ok I'm through.

blacktrap

I was at the Center for most of the day Saturday for a training session and truth be told, several of us were typical humans gawking when we discovered a speed trap had been set up behind the center on MLK Drive.

We stared, we wondered and pondered. At lunch time, we took a picnic out back and got prime seats to the spectacle. Must be the end of the month quota, we figured. We saw some get arrested (my heart twisted, as it always does, when I see a fellow black person get arrested-no one speaks more accurately and eloquently to this emotion than Joy Leary in her talks about Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome) and we saw cars being confiscated.

I thought no more on it until the next day when I was on the South Side again, different neighborhood, and I was the one who got pulled over. Specifically, me, an eight-year-old, a 1-year-old, and their mother.

Our crime? Making a left hand turn. Was it an illegal left turn? No, in fact, it wasn't. Were we driving erratically? No, not even. What did the cop have to say? When making a left turn, you have to keep driving if you see any cars are coming towards you. (In our case, the cars coming towards us were well over a block away) but you cannot make left handed turns over railroad tracks if cars are coming towards you and you cannot stop either, you can only turn if there are no cars in sight. Or something along those lines. I am not really sure what he was saying.

Unfortunately, the mother did not have her DL on her person (she was driving).It was an interesting exchange and without sharing too close of detail, he was trying to catch her in a lie or incite her emotions and increasingly worse threats were thrown at us and though she started out polite it started to move in another direction. Switching to "sales/customerserviceperson deals with a possible disastrous situation" mode, I played a bit female dumb, addressed him "Well, officer, I'm just not sure we understand just exactly what it is you are trying to say to us." To which he puffed up a bit and proceeded to explain again about the not turning, and even though he did not make any sense still, I nodded when he expected me to nod and he smiled and said, "well ladies, I'm not going to give you a ticket this time but..."

(I mention the sales thing only because I learned that even when you think you are right, agreeing with a person when they tell you you are wrong and asking them to explain what they mean to you and then being attentive while they speak is an extremely effective tool in retaining business, getting more business, and getting an angry person to not be angry anymore. Sincerity is essential of course, but it took me three years to put my pride aside and do this well and it's been very helpful ever since-but I realized when I became a Bahai that this also could be seen as being loving..making a concious decision to be loving even when it goes against your immediate emotion and reaction..)


Afterwards, when the craziness of the move (we were moving them to their new home on the South Side) subsided, and she drove me home after we found her DL amongst boxes and bags, we discussed the incident.

We talked about the fact that something like a speed trap that intense is just not seen on the north side of Chicago, about this perhaps being someone's way of quelling crime in the so-called 'crime-infested' neighborhoods of the city--although to me that's like putting a bandaid on a scrape when both your legs broken.

We talked about a well familiar anger and attitude that so many of my peers and family have towards the police for the profiling and the injustices they have experienced over the years. We talked about how most members of her family had been beat down at least once by police in Mpls. And though she insisted- part of me did not want to believe it.

The other part of me was like, ok, but we live in this world. We know this happens. What can we do within our power to fight it and stop it? She and I talked about whether it is ever beneficial to let someone know they are mean and hurtful (a-holes) and if by saying such things is that just you sticking up for yourself? If you speak up or show anger is that pride and not getting all walked-over? How important is it to not get walked over?


We talked about turning the other cheek and about how it has to start somewhere and that anger and powerlessness with police could always be channeled into volunteer work and numerous other activities.....we talked about how ENDLESSLY hard that would be-to turn the other cheek and not sort of talk back, if you will.

She told me I live in a fantasy world. But what I thought about was this-how many people in the world feel hopeless and powerless? How many are driven to hurt others out of a genuine belief that that is the only way to protect themselves? How? And Abdu'l Baha's words rang through my mind and I found this letter which is more about war, but isn't it a war on the streets we experience? not in the same vein perhaps, but in the end it is people stepping on others to gain things that are not becoming to us....

Abdu’l-Bahá said:
I hope you are all happy and well. I am not happy, but very sad. The news of the Battle of Benghazi grieves my heart. I wonder at the human savagery that still exists in the world! How is it possible for men to fight from morning until evening, killing each other, shedding the blood of their fellow-men: And for what object? To gain possession of a part of the earth! Even the animals, when they fight, have an immediate and more reasonable cause for their attacks! How terrible it is that men, who are of the higher kingdom, can descend to slaying and bringing misery to their fellow-beings, for the possession of a tract of land!
The highest of created beings fighting to obtain the lowest form of matter, earth! Land belongs not to one people, but to all people. This earth is not man’s home, but his tomb. It is for their tombs these men are fighting. There is nothing so horrible in this world as the tomb, the abode of the decaying bodies of men.
However great the conqueror, however many countries he may reduce to slavery, he is unable to retain any part of these devastated lands but one tiny portion—his tomb! If more land is required for the improvement of the condition of the people, for the spread of civilization (for the substitution of just laws for brutal customs)—surely it would be possible to 29 acquire peaceably the necessary extension of territory.
But war is made for the satisfaction of men’s ambition; for the sake of worldly gain to the few, terrible misery is brought to numberless homes, breaking the hearts of hundreds of men and women!
How many widows mourn their husbands, how many stories of savage cruelty do we hear! How many little orphaned children are crying for their dead fathers, how many women are weeping for their slain sons!
There is nothing so heart-breaking and terrible as an outburst of human savagery!
I charge you all that each one of you concentrate all the thoughts of your heart on love and unity. When a thought of war comes, oppose it by a stronger thought of peace. A thought of hatred must be destroyed by a more powerful thought of love. Thoughts of war bring destruction to all harmony, well-being, restfulness and content.
Thoughts of love are constructive of brotherhood, peace, friendship, and happiness.
When soldiers of the world draw their swords to kill, soldiers of God clasp each other’s hands! So may all the savagery of man disappear by the Mercy of God, working through the pure in heart and the sincere of soul. Do not think the peace of the world an ideal impossible to attain!
Nothing is impossible to the Divine Benevolence of God.
If you desire with all your heart, friendship with every race on earth, your thought, spiritual and positive, will spread; it will become the desire of others, growing stronger and stronger, until it reaches the minds of all men.
Do not despair! Work steadily. Sincerity and love will conquer hate. How many seemingly impossible events are coming to pass in these days! Set your faces steadily towards the Light of the World. Show love to all; ‘Love is the breath of the Holy Spirit in the heart of Man’. Take courage! God never forsakes His children who strive and work and pray! Let your hearts be filled with the strenuous desire that tranquillity and harmony may encircle all this warring world. So will success crown your efforts, and with the universal brotherhood will come the Kingdom of God in peace and goodwill.
In this room today are members of many races, French, American, English, German, Italian, brothers and sisters meeting in friendship and harmony! Let this gathering be a foreshadowing of what will, in very truth, take place in this world, when every child of God realizes that they are leaves of one tree, flowers in one garden, drops in one ocean, and sons and daughters of one Father, whose name is love!

In case you were wondering about cheese....

I've recently learned that Michigan specializes in cottage cheese, Ohio specializes in Swiss cheese, and Illinois mostly dabbles in Ricotta and Italian cheeses (hmm, pizza, anyone?).

Yes folks, all told, I have called nearly 300 companies on the search....the search for cheese.

I still need to hit up California and Texas...I have at least 100 more companies to peruse. And it's quite entertaining really, to hear folks talk about their beloved cheese. And it's hard work before lunch time.

i feel so unused

i got up early this morning to get all these things out of the way to prepare for my doctors appointment and my evening study circle and my terribly busy short work day. now both have been canceled and I got all my work done and I have nothing to do tonight and I feel so.....foiled. I am trying to think of someone to call to hang out with me tonight so I can fill in the gap but no one who is free comes to mind....grr. are you ever so busy that you feel wrong when your schedule opens up? that is me now.

tracing back and looking forward

I just spent the last few minutes glancing over my blog, which is going on 4 years old. And, just as with the diaries I used to keep when I was younger, you can tell when looking through it: I'VE GROWN. Very distinctly grown, my writing voice is consistent but the things I concerned myself with then, the fears I struggled with and overcame are very apparent and I love that about writing. Snapshots of days gone by that serve to remind you of your resilience, strength, and your mistakes, nothing like that to keep you humble. Anger and frustration, sadness and loss, and of course, pure joy. Ok moving on, just a bit nostalgic.

I just noticed that I have been spending more time with mothers in the past 6 months than I have with pretty much anyone else, except my married friend Kiyomi. Rather than make me depressed and anxious, it is relaxing and delightful.

On the flip side, I went to a club a couple of weeks ago to support a single friend who was promoting a new event and realized that that part of my life is really over-I just no longer see the point in going to clubs. I still enjoy dancing and would be willing to sacrifice my growing distaste for the environment for a bit of getting down with my girlfriends, but I am by no means intending to seek it out like that again.

While I was there I spent the entire time talking to a young man (who was trying ask me out) about how I was waiting to meet my husband and about chilren's classes and about the Faith and etc.

Surprisingly, he did not run away screaming but he did make a polite exit after I made it clear that I was closer to 30 than he was to the beer he was drinking. I wasn't awful, but I did break all the rules of club socializing. And more importantly-I didn't care!

(By the way, what is it about some women that when they see a man talking to you they automatically assume you will go out with him? It's like some unspoken assumption, that if a man finds you attractive you must find a way to like him back and if you don't, you are a snob or too picky-are we really that mind-warped, my friends?)

I spoke with my platonic soul mate and sister from another mother, in Haifa, last week and she announced that she too, is feeling the way I am feeling about our futures. It took her awhile and I think she thought maybe it would never happen....but she was happy about it. I tried to make a joke about it but the thousands of miles between us made it not too funny-the point is, I know what I want and she does too and we are not fearful of our future or our capabilities.

I am also not really distrustful that I won't get what I want exactly. Positive thinking does wonders in that department. I've shed the things in my life that are not conducive to what I want and I think that is part of the process, really. But anyhoo, that being said-

This is a good place to stop the ramble, I think.

my new favorite quote

"Strain every nerve to acquire both inner and outer perfections, for the fruit of the human tree hath ever been and will ever be perfections both within and without. It is not desirable that a man be left without knowledge or skills, for he is then but a barren tree. Then, so much as capacity and capability allow, ye needs must deck the tree of being with fruits such as knowledge, wisdom, spiritual perception and eloquent speech."
-Baha'u'llah

And as my mentor so dubiously pointed out when we were studying this quote-we must strain EVERY nerve to acquire both inner and outer perfections. Straining EVERY nerve implies just how hard one must work to do this and at all times, too. I also like the part where it says inner and outer perfections. To me that means spiritual and physical and mental etc......which is why I started running.

OK well not entirely why, but I am certainly committed at this time in my life to attaining better physical health. I am going to the dentist for the first time in seven years. Aack! I've been avoiding it but no longer! And also the running. I have a woman who is helping me put together a running schedule. I started to get shin splints the other day but managed to do some things to avoid the debacle. Today, for the third time this week, I am going to run two miles before I go off to a wonderful event where I will be blessed to spend time with other wonderful people and vote for wonderful people for a wonderful cause. YAY!

In other news, some of the people I have attempted to contact this week have returned my calls and emails, others haven't. Grr. They better recognize! No one avoids me, NO ONE! Ima call them agin, you know what I'm saying?

get er done

Why is it I am always so much more effective at getting things done when I have little time and lots to do then when the opposite? I thrive off busyness. But become slightly sluggish when there is time to spare.

Last night on my way home from work I made like a thousand phone calls 'taking care of business' and today I tried to tie up the loose ends. I did the IL portion of my taxes on lunch and in a moment I am whizzing off to a B4 study session, tomorrow I plan the reflection meeting, thursday laundry, friday voting, saturday field trip with the kids and sunday reflection meeting, not to mention work and the fact that I have to go running at least 3 more times this week.

But I am happy and content, if not a little anxious that the people I contacted (the ball is in their court) get back to me soon....

Anyway one thing I have learned about myself is that I am persistent and annoying. Ok re-phrase that. My last job and my current job have developed in me a shameless aggression (my journalistic roots reveal themselves) in making sure I get the information I need. I call people ALL DAY requesting information. And most people, best friends included, can be 'distracted' and forgetful about returning calls and returning requested information. And many people (not sales people or journalists) seem to feel it is a bit rude to persist and keep calling someone when they've already left a message.

This is why sometimes some things never get done. Good intentions fall by the wayside with busy lives......my sales skill helps me to push it like I need to at work. My customer service/friendship side helps me to plead with shameless dignity to my friends....


Anyway, part of me feels a bit guilty at my pushiness. I think I will manage to accomplish certain feats (one website development comes to mind) that have been waited for and longed for. Anyway...that is all

TURTLES!

I belong to the Turtle Clan of the Ojibwe tribe. I'm not kidding. That bit of knowledge and the online 'family tree' I found a couple of months ago represents the majority of cultural knowledge I possess about that half of my chemical makeup. Oh, Booshoo is hello in Ojibwe.

But I say this all not because I am hankering to investigate or even emunerate. (is that a word? geez) But only because my twin brother is obsessed with turtles (they represent wisdom in my culture) and he has about a thousand strewn about his home and I have the good luck of taking care of two very live and very charming turtles this week while their adoptive parents are away.

I am about to go hang out with Michelangelo and Leonardo? I hope to goodness the names are right...these guys are not teenage but I've seen some pretty ninja-like moves over the last couple of days and I'm quite enjoying them a lot. (I'm also quite taken with the British accent of my co-workers and seem to have found a way to work their wording, if not their tone, into my writing....they would be having a bit of laugh at me if they knew...)

Craving baloney and movies

Grr. I meant to be done at 530 today. It is 7pm. Due to a snafu with the computer that is my life blood here at TP, I was unable to work for several hours today. Then, when the technician left, I only then discovered that a special map I had been building for several hours over the last few days had been completely taken off my computer. So now, here we are at 7-I should be at the movie 300 right now. And I feel like a baloney and cheese sandwich.

That is all. I am outta here.

wipes sweat off her brow

today at lunch i went to the gym. i walked on the treadmill (gotta lighten the workout on account of the fast) and listened to THE SECRET, my very first audio book. turns out it's a bit difficult to work out and listen closely to life-changing things at the same time.

i spent the morning calling turkey, france, portugal, ireland, czech republic and france again. yesterday i was all about mexico. so even though i don't get to travel to those places i still feel quite accomplished spending a couple hours every day saying-habla inglais? or parlez vous anglais? or just-speak english? to various individuals around the world. the fun part is when their english is only passable and i try to ask about things like injection molded plastic and they tell me their emails using non-english alphabets......i love my job.

i really do. and i really want to learn another language.

Lunchtime solutions

First of all, it's about 70 degrees out and people are definitely ice skating at Millenium Park. Awesome, why didn't I bring my skates? Imagine, lunch break ice skating in 70 degree weather

Second of all, I made an executive decision after being stranded on the South Side last night after having gotten on the wrong bus and needing to use the restroom with none in sight and not making it home for 2 and half hours instead of the usual 1 hour. I have decided to 'liquidate' my IRA. It's not a large sum, but it's at least 5 times as large as I am in the hole right now and I figure since I plan on living a good long life it would be much better suited to me now than then. Plus I will start a 401 here soon enough.

So they are putting the check in the mail and hopefully I will be able to get a manicure and few more bills paid soon enough....

Third, I found a temp agency for catering. I am sending my waiting tables resume and will soon be able to pick up a few extra dollars on the weekends WHEN I WISH. That is the key, the when I wish part, all I have to do is say-hey I want some more money! And then call in my availability and poof, I'm serving food at a fancy party for some extra change on a random, planless Saturday or Friday evening. And I have a few of those planless weekend nights in the future, you know?

Ok today I am running my first auction at work. woot. I'm a professional.

Lunch Break

1. Checked my balance, faced the music and it wasn't good. I have a very negative balance and 12 days until my next paycheck. This catching up thing is not working out too well.

2. Spoke with my father and he met a woman on match.com and is dating. He loves match! He is having a good time of it-it's quite adorable, really.

3. Hung out on State Street while ingesting the money predicament and speaking to my dad. Got approached by men who felt I needed to be told about the dust on my back. Saw lots of people.

4. Enjoyed the sunshine.


5. Listened to "Whatever Happens" by Michael Jackson on my iPod while riding the elevator.

A new experience

Trying to do your taxes on your lunch break in the middle of a fasting day.

Then calling your landlord to explain how you can use the return you just figured to pay back at least one of the months you are behind on rent.

I am a little loopy but I think the math is right and my Federal Return is just about the amount of one month's rent which makes me happy. I am not sure why I capitalized federal return but I did my taxes so there.

technical difficulties

So I find writing very therapeutic, heck, it's what got me through the worst parts of childhood. I was going to post something here to do with the awful nightmares I've been having and the dreammoods corresponding assessment, but I wrote a letter to my good friend Abi and no longer felt the need to expel here in blogosphere.

But I took a moment and did it anyway. And felt satisfied. And cleansed and clear. And I pressed publish, and it disappeared. The whole, rather long and 'unloading a burden' post just disappeared. And for a moment I was....slightly annoyed. But the writing itself had served to further calm my anxieties.

Here is the thing that is accurate from dreammoods. That is all I will say.

Pool
To see a pool of water in your dream, indicates that you need to understand and deal with your emotions. You need to dive right in. Alternatively, a pool may indicate your need for cleansing. You need to wash away the past.


I know what my fast is all about, folks.

seconds to stay

last night when i went to bed i smelled a strange smell, a pleasant smell. i was a bit weirded out by it, to be honest with you. i thought about it for awhile since sleep seemed elusive. then it hit me! i washed my comforter last night. yes i did. finally. several weeks ago my cat threw up on it and i took it off my bed of course (i'm gross but not that gross) but prior to the cat barf, it had been months since my last comfort launder. is that a word? i just made it up, maybe. anyhoo. i actually had a hard time falling asleep to the unfamilar smell of laundry detergent and fabric softener. also, i worked out 5 times last week at the company's free gym. woot.

Un-pause

So I got a job last week and afterward I cried for two days in a row. And you know, that's not a normal reaction so I commissioned myself some time to think about the tears and here's what I came up with:

1. Residual fears

2. Inexplicable feelings of failure

3. The strong desire to avoid complacency and see clearly at all times

My latest guilty pleasure has been watching American Idol and it's an agonizing and delightful pass-time, I tell you. I love to hear the unsuspecting beautiful voice but I am also endlessly fascinated by the seemingly high level of delusion of some of the contestants. They really believe in themselves. Or maybe, like a certain acquaintance of mine who has a wicked sense of humor, they just think it's funny to be on national television and are willing to subject themselves for that reason alone. Perhaps this is my imagination but sometimes it seems, behind all the bravado and hoopla that at least some of them know they can't sing well, but they want it soooo bad, that the strength of their desire, the force of the dream itself, will somehow magically pull them through. Their hope alone will charm the judges and mask the lack of tone in their voice.

It makes me think of how my parents lead me to believe that I, too, could do anything I wanted when I grew up. My parents, of course, have a candid honesty about them, the Aries that they are, and I believe that if I had any notion I was a fantastic singer and ought to try out for something like that, that they would have just said no. My mom always wanted me to be a writer. Just a few weeks ago, when the job search was pissing me off, she reassured me that when the book I was not writing took off, that I wouldn't have to worry so much about the day job. But seriously, I digress.

What I mean to say is that I too, believe in myself, or my future, rather. Strongly believe. And that if I too, want IT bad enough, and I have the courage to go for it, that I will get IT too. IT, in this case, was a job that would render me financially stable. I didn't mean to cry when I got a job, but the thing is, as perfect as the job itself seems, the pay is lower than what I made at my last job. And I feel like I've been on this ride for long enough and I'm tired. I still look for a moment when all my dreams come true. Oh boo hoo, right? I should be jumping for joy, right? I am thankful, though. I get to practice seeing the bright side of the coin (I majored in self-pity in college, thank you very much)and taking this on as a challenge.

But the pleasure I have is guarded and I've realized just how damaged I was by my last job. I became complacent and I managed to be ok with getting up early every morning and going to work for people who didn't like me and didn't trust me and didn't respect me. I comforted myself by saying-You're building character and learning patience love and restraint. But the toll it took finally caught up to me and the reality of precarious living settled in the form of tears when I tried to negotiate a better salary and came up short.

I am better now. Better and cautious. Prayerful and conscientious of the part I played in my last employed experience. Eager to employ lessons learned and remain aware. For a second I feared I was that girl-the one who just got out of an unhealthy relationship and snapped up the next boy who came along just because he was nice though not really right for her. Better than the last one is not always good enough you know.

But here are the things I look towards- 4 wks paid vacation, quarterly bonuses based on team-work performance, that, if acquired, will put me above my last job's salary, good health coverage, good location, and the knowledge that these people were really impressed by me. My recruiter who facilitated the process could not stop telling me how PICKY these people were. I made it through an apparently highly selective process and seemed to knock their socks off. I gotta say, my low self-esteem is convinced they won't like me, but my sensible brain says, but they do! It's a London-based business and it's NOT A SALES JOB. They have offices in Milan, Munich, Shanghai and New York and if I'm awesome enough someday I may get to go to those places.

So the search is over and I no longer have to feel guilty about staying at home after work rather than high-tailing it to the library to send off resumes. I no longer have to feel pulled in several directions with the activities I am participating in. Like Kari says, now I only have two jobs, service to the Faith and, well, the day job. I get learn how to budget (for real this time) and maybe start playing vball again and in general moving on with my life. I can un-pause.

waiting for maybe

i have sweaty palms and there is an empty nothingness where my stomach should be and my heart beats faster than normal and i keep swallowing and my attention span is terribly short. there are so many things, intangible and possibly imaginary, that ride on the approaching moment that i feel a little like death. if the moment should pass and the outcome not be to my desire, i know other moments would come but OH IT WOULD BE SO NICE TO BE DONE SEARCHING!!!!

I know what my oldies are going to be

A friend gave me a $25 GC to Itunes and I have been thoroughly enjoying picking out songs. Also, some months ago when I was more gainfully employed I decided to make my siblings a CD of songs from our childhood....it was a smashing success for a Christmas gift for all but my youngest brother-who is 21 and was just too young to remember most of the songs we all thrived on.....but let me tell you what.

What?

Some stuff I love:

En Vogue
The Boys
Johnny Gill
Babyface
After 7
The Jets
Troop
The Sounds of Blackness
Tracie Spencer
Tevin Campbell
Mary J (OF COURSE) Blige
Billy Ocean
DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince (Summertime)
ABC
Bel Biv Devoe
Shanice
Atlantic Starr
El Debarge

I know the list could go on. Ahh memories!

in my building/where did the time go?

just discovered recently that the building I work in has free wireless....which solves my access problem somewhat. If I bring my laptop to work I can do some job searching during my lunch hour. problem is is that i just spent an hour writing a response on my last entry and visiting some sites i haven't seen in awhile....where did my hour go?

boo....

but i want you to think about it

i am going to do something that could very well be the death of my 'blogger ego'. I am going to ask a question and i want some answers. i am guessing that at the most maybe 3 people visit here regularly, with maybe 3 or 4 more visiting more sporadically. if you should be one of those, humor me! if i had a roommate i would have come home tonight and asked that person. i could call a few of you and ask, but since it is friday i doubt many of you would answer your phones and i could try to remember to ask later but i will forget.
here it goes:


If you died right now, and were given the option of coming back to this earth-would you? I am not talking about reincarnation (well I am) and I am not asking you to think about the 'afterlife'. Assume it's great, but that since we live in eternity you will have an eternity to enjoy the afterlife, is there anything that would ever make you choose to come back to this? As a human. Suffering the same, less or worse than you do now....I think about it sometimes.

I think about it for different reasons-misery or wonder mostly....and I usually think that if I could I would come back to see real space travel or what human beings can accomplish in the future or... how we will handle global warming. It's sick but today I actually thought to myself-"what if global warming got us to the point that earth was mostly water? what would that be like?" I would want to see it. We would adjust. There would be tragedy and sadness. But there is that now. Then we would use these amazingly inventive minds and create a way to go on in a WATER WORLD!......and I want to see it. I have't seen the Al Gore movie yet and I think I probably should but I guess what I am saying is even as miserable as I feel sometimes, wallowing in self-pity and longing for release from money trouble, or lonliness, or conflict or loss, through all of my hardships, sheer human existence has always fascinated me. I'd go see the dinasoars too if I could. I would for all the pain, try it again, I think. At least, that is my answer today.

are we there yet?

the year of 2006 is over. i have a job interview tomorrow and a suit that is a tad too big. i wonder what will happen this year...i sort of can't wait to find out.