Wednesday, December 31, 2008

The Real Auld Lang's Ayne

And I can't spell or understand why it's not Old Lang Sign.
It's New Years Eve. I'm going to be sleeping at the stroke of midnight but this night has become increasingly boring in the past few years. I think more about how long into 2009 I will write 2008 on stuff. I'm thinking by my birthday I'll get it..and that is in March, folks.

I'm getting more disillusioned by the holidays every year and NOT because I don't like to buy gifts or I'm just being a bastard. The greed and expectations become overwhelming. Adults ( well, me) stress over the perfect gift for someone that genuinely expects you/me to fill a part of them that is lacking with a trinket instead of looking inward to the real cause of their emptiness. And I watched, for 2 days, kids open gifts only to be completely overwhelmed and exhausted while they were passed more boxes. This kind of gift giving not only takes away from the spirituality that we express in the faded plastic nativity scene in our yards but doesn't give the giver or the receiver joy. Where is the joy?

My joy came this year by disappointing everyone. I donated money to charity in honor of my family members and printed certificates that listed where the money went and how it will be used 100%. I tailored the charity to the recipient based on how I know them. Animal lovers, cancer survivors, etc. I've have only heard back from one recipient and it was only in passing as he asked about whether I sent him a big Ghiridelli chocolate gift basket. No, I didn't send a damn luxury food basket but thanks for acknowledging that your gift helped saved 20 animals in a shelter. Yeah me.

I take that back. My best friend gets me and I'm continually amazed that we do not have to speak to get the message across. She gave me joy.

So, it appears that I'm expecting something too, right? I'm expecting acknowledgment for doing something different. For trying to bring contentment or meaning back to a spiritual holiday. Both for myself and for them. But there are endless possibilities to someone's definition of holidays so I can't be bold enough to say that anything I think is right. But this is just what I'm feeling more and more. What's really sad is that I begin to shut down just after Thanksgiving as I try to dam the pressure of what I should be doing verses doing what is motivated by my emotions. Sappy, isn't it?

By Oct, it's splattered all over TV about the spirit of the holidays...globally what I see is a market/media driven spirit of buying and desperation. Filling emotional voids with material junk. If I look close I will see great spirits and acts of unimaginable kindness, and these are small feats that have intention behind them not tokens bought out of obligation. Let me see and do more of these. Do little things for others, give to what is truly lacking in someone's life. Something deeper like actions. Nursing homes are a great place to start if you don't know what people need. It smacks you in the face when you walk in the door.

Whoever is reading this - if I never buy you anything, please do not be offended. I probably just want to be with you more than anything at special times. No gifts. I am inadequate with still so much to learn and apply in life; and can never predict what people around me really need but I can guarantee that it can't be bought. I can't end this without the disclaimer that my thoughts apply to me too - don't vie for the best material thing under the tree. Be a presence instead of more presents.

Friday, December 5, 2008

Old Lang Syne

There are a few songs that I really do love but can’t listen to. Conjuring up memories isn’t something that is too hard for me to do but when a poignant song phrase sticks that memory through your heart… I can’t believe that I’d be the only one that will turn down the volume till the moment passes. But isn’t that what makes a great song?

It happened again this morning. Hubby likes softer music than I do and bought a soft little Christmas CD, luckily I’m not tortured with Bruce Springsteen or Mariah Carey, but it’s a short list of mostly songs I haven’t heard. I just don’t want to hear the same songs by 451 different singers. But anyway...

One of hubby’s favorites is Dan Fogelberg’s Same Old Lang Syne - we’ve listened to it for years and almost know it by the first note. I try not to drift off into the past when I hear it but this morning I couldn’t help it – I went back to memories I hadn’t thought of in years. And it got me to thinking about ex’s. Another reason why I went there was that I recently reconnected with folks on Facebook from middle school and early high school – just old friends. We’re catching each other up so old memories are coming back easily.

Going back to ex’s though. Listening to the song he is trying to connect with her in some way – he mentions reaching beyond emptiness. There isn’t anything left of their relationship. But why does he care? The same reason I care about my ex’s – because they are still good people despite the situation. My situation with them is just a small portion of their lives and they go on to be whoever they’re going to be. Why do I feel compelled to find out who they become later? It just fascinates me and I don’t have much fear about contacting them if I happen to run across them; but I’ve been shot down by ones that could care less who I became. And that’s ok too.

I wonder if the honesty that they were having in this brief encounter would have saved the relationship had they done it in the past? Are they questioning this?

At the end the song he goes back to the real memory, being back at school, but he goes back to pain. I am surprised but hurt makes holes in your heart, some just stay tiny and hidden. Another example of never knowing the impression we make on a person. I have those holes and I know who they are but I believe they became better people than who they were when I left them.

I can’t drink a toast to innocence; I have too many regrets from it. But getting closure on those little pains by reconciling with past loves does feel good. Can’t say I’ve ever had a metaphor quite like a change in the weather though.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Accidental Neglect

I have never been a poster child for focus but lately I can’t seem to keep anything in my head. And with this new pregnancy sleep schedule, which feels like 14 hours a night, I’m neglecting the things that are important to me and that I used to do in the wee hours around midnight.

Some of these situations can be important:

I can’t seem to think of music that I want to listen to. Even with my iTunes list gleaming on my screen, it’s just too much to think about. I hear new artists that normally I would have no problems remembering for when I get to my computer – now I get to the computer and they are gone. Gone. And I hope the tune resurfaces at some other random time where I can’t write it down.

My calendar, which was sacred, is pretty screwed up now that I don’t know what day it is. Ever. Don’t ask me what’s going on during this holiday time of “you haveta go’ parties and some parties that I really want to go to – I’ve been relegated to setting timers and computer alert dings for my 74 bathroom breaks a day, checking my 4 email addresses that I can’t remember the password for and resetting them all for my next days events. Next, Thursday? Puleez.
I didn’t realize that I used to be pretty amazing at this, okay?

Sleeping is taking up just too much of my day. I literally get home from work at 6:30-7pm, eat some dinner, and about 8:30 seriously think about a shower and bed. I’m losing 4 hours a day! That’s a part time job worth of hours a week!! I’m getting a bit depressed that I’m neglecting some things and people that are dear to my heart and I can’t seem to get the energy to do it. A good example is our church pantry. Gary and I would be working be at Walmart market at, no joke, 11pm checking out full carts of groceries. I just feel like I’m not doing my job and it bothers me. I can’t accept that I’m unreliable on the big stuff.

Prayer happens throughout the day. Sleep comes on so fast and mornings are regimented to the minute so those times are clearly not going to work. As I see it, I pray for it. Gives me a pick me up as I go along.

And work. Oh my. I hope I complete a task now because I do NOT awake in the middle of the night worrying that I didn’t tell somebody important info or send a certain email. I’ve been mentally demoted and frequently stare off into space wondering what was I just getting ready to do. My boss just shakes his head. Like I said, I wasn’t very focused anyway and looked kinda flighty when I worked on something – now, I just look retarded. HAHAHAHA

Forget anything profound. I know it when I read it but that's it. I’m reading a book by the Dalai Lama and it’s taking me an eternity! I’m forcing myself to stay on a college graduate level but I may save it for later and read mindless fiction in the meantime. I hate to miss how I would interpret the book now but, luckily, conscientiousness doesn’t leave and I’ll have a viewpoint later too.

And there are so many more that…..I can’t think of right now! Surprise!

Exercise. fellowship, bra shopping ( like very week!), family, food, church activities, Christmas stuff, baby furniture and fun all have to fit in life somewhere - I have to use big grown up words like priority, time management and love to fix the disconnect. I’ll just keep smiling and be erratic. Pregnancy does let you get away with a lot!

Friday, November 14, 2008

Expecting Something?

Most folk know now that I am pregnant – I just turned 15 wks today. Holy cow!
Unfortuantly, this was supposed to be a funny recount of stories and reactions but my head has hurt for three days now and my pain tolerance is wearing thin. I’m doing the sort of smile that looks more like a snarl – I promise, it’s a smile!

So anyway, yeah, I’m knocked up. I still can’t believe it. I found out under the best possible circumstances – at the best friend’s house before a crazy weekend! Am I really an eternal teenager? Guess so. She laughed and pointed at me “ Thank God it’s YOU and not me!!!” Very expected expression of love and genuine happiness that it really wasn’t her. But she was supposed to scream and cry with me, dammit!
I got through the weekend in a daze and told Gary in the most crowded terminal of the airport – honestly, could there be any more people within a 6 ft radius?! Half the airport got to see the shock and awe - metaphorically speaking I’m sure it looked like the mushroom cloud from the first ever atomic bomb. The shock was about the same.

It’s pretty much sunk in now and we’re excited as I’m starting to show a bit. Along with this expansion has come the expanded waistline – ugh. I was so annoyed to get my large size jeans out of the attic only to find that the legs and butt sagged to my knees and the waistline was just enough to keep me uncomfortable all day. Nothing like a baby dunlap!
So, I graduated to maternity clothes a little early just for the fluffy soft waistband.
A good friend was generous enough to pass one a few much needed pieces but I needed to get my own – off to the Motherhood store we go!

I’d heard only very recently a rumor about this fake belly you can put on that adds 3 months. I was kinda shy about going in there ( I mean really, it’s not like I was schlepping into a porn store or anything and who would think that I’d care about that anyway) but I didn’t want to ask for it and forgot about it as I got familiar with the morphed clothes. Gary was so sweet and carried my purse which, of course, is a very unmanly cherry pattern but looked really cute on him! This store immediately labeled him as taken so I didn’t have to worry about gals using the purse as a great come on opportunity. He followed me around trying to figure out what size I am and talked to the sales gal that was a rather large 6 months – man, she was short and big! While I was trying on clothes, he asked her if you had to be pregnant to work there!! OMG – I wish I could’ve seen her face when she replied that no, there was not a rotating work force available of only pregnant women HAHAH! I know she heard me laugh in there.

Off to the side of the dressing room I saw a black thing in the corner – I only glanced at it and went about my business though. Feeling dumb at this point I stuck my neck out and asked her about this fake belly thingy – she said it was in there. I looked at the black thing again and actually picked it up. “ Ohhhh, I thought it was a hat!” was all I could say. After Gary’s questions and me thinking there was a random hat just laying in the corner, I’m sure she wondered if we were at all mentally qualified to breed.

I was a little disappointed that the belly wasn’t flesh colored or gelatinous. It was just a black pillow that you affix around your waist – boring! But I busted out laughing when I put it on!! I didn’t care who heard. Gary stuck his head in to check what could be so funny about big clothes – then he saw it. We giggled so hard at the stretchy pantyhose material stretched over this fake BLACK belly. And I added sound effects too – “Come here baby and give me a hug! Ugh!” I tried to get him to put it on, even threatened to chase him around with his cheery little purse, but he was a no go. Unfortunately, I’ve got a reputation for taking pics and he knew not to prance in the belly. I would so use that against him – just give me a small reason.

And I’m sure again the slightly waddling sales gal chuckled to herself “yeh, you laugh now, lady”
We might as well have been 18 year old new parents but, honestly, what is so serious about this anyway? This is the relatively easy part and I have the rest of my life to worry myself silly and concern more than I know what to do with. Why not laugh now?
And I’ve totally bookmarked the website with the pacifier that looks like vampire teeth – this is excitement for me! Poor kid...

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Muse-ik = Aural Enjoyment

What is it with harmony that can be felt? How can I listen to the Beatles (Abbey Road, Rubber Soul) or the Stones Let it Bleed and actually feel the textures and vibrations? I feel good, soul stirred, rejuvenated, at least when I stop singing long enough to listen.

A lasting musical memory is buying a 45rpm ( yeah, i know) of John Lennon's Woman in like 1981. I was 8 and couldn't tell why I loved it. He was an old man to me and only been dead a month or so. The loss of this voice didn't really mean anything as I hadn't learned what he was saying yet. But I listened over and over to the sound, without question.
I still have this record and can hear the longing, sorrow and devotion in those words and arrangement; teaching me at an early age a fraction of the dynamics of a relationship. But it's the sound that is etched in my brain.

I'm kinda musically inclined. It's not a talent to match pitch by ear but it's what I do. Sheet music - forget it. I have no connection there. Matter of fact, when I played the french horn in a symphonic band, I'd look like I was playing a new arrangement the first time through to hear the notes but then I'd have it. Yeah - and I was always last chair even though I played all scales in tune my first week of picking up the instrument. Whatever. Let me hear it. I just want to hear it.

What about my voice or my sound? We all have a sound or resonance. What can it tell us? Kirtan, while a Hindu tradition, is a devotional chant session with notes repeated and held to connect to the vibration throughout your body, like the vibration of holding the Om sound. You don't just say it, you feel it and acknowledge what you feel as release of chakra blockages and admit your prana. Lots of mental imagery and sanskrit but, for me, not worship. Sometimes I really don't know what I believe, you know that?! But I want to feel the sound inherent to me as I hope we all do.

While I'm working on that and the 386574 other things I want to do in life, I'll keep listening to the sounds and harmonies that make me happy. Pure.

BTW - I was just told that I would make a great high school teacher. That my personality is perfect!? I thought that was funny.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

35 Already?

This is a thought-line I made up a few months ago..just more warblings.


I’m 35 now. I personally think that this is middle age. If I’ve basically lived half my life then why am I not even half the person I want to be? What have I been doing all this time? I consider myself lucky enough to at least think of the words like authenticate, visualize and sanctify as this life’s journey draws me nearer to the core of whom I’m trying to discover. My love has always been archeology but I had no idea I’d always be looking into my own past and piecing together my own history.

At the 2008 New Year I woke up in the middle of the night to write what turned out to be my most promising set of resolutions yet. With no fewer than 30 action words, this a list of potential. And one that highlighted my true fears – ignorance and the passing of time. I’m in ruthless pursuit, kinetically charged to make potential a reality. Sorry, science geek, I KNOW.

Potential is what I embrace and fear the most. When a person dies, of course, I mourn the loss of their physical presence but I mourn the loss of their potential. Because are we really as bound as we feel at the time? I fear being old and realizing that I was free but ignorant of the opportunity. So goes my theory of wanting my mind to go before my body.

By the purest definition, potential dreams and goals are stored dreams and goals. Nothing becomes of them without the kinetic push of motivation and nothing stops them faster than friction. This friction manifests itself in the lines on our face or gray hair. The crow’s feet beginning in the creases of my eyes tell stories of squinting - trying to look too far into the future. I’ll never forget living in Missouri, listening to tornado sirens and wondering to myself if when I die I can say I lived through a tornado. I was 6 and already both oblivious and inwardly attuned to the vastness of human time. I catch myself now asking myself if I’ll ever get to donate a kidney, will I ever hang prayer flags in Tibet, will I ever go deaf? There is an explanation about the’s not that random. Of all the senses that I may one day lose I would want to lose my hearing first. I may not be able to hear my loved ones voices but I would be able to see their beautiful faces and the colors God made. And, there is a back up, you can always talk with your hands.

Just as the universe has endless potential, so do we. Are we not perfect, complete beings worthy of our best efforts until we pass? Are we ever too old to live how we’ve imagined? But – more importantly – are we allowed to live as we imagined. Quoting Forrest Gump’s momma “ You have to figure that out for yourself.”

Oooooo, Jealousy.

Thank you Natalie Merchant.
For putting such a sweet spin on a distasteful topic.
For almost making it sound okay to be jealous.

Anyway you look at it, let’s face it, I’m jealous. And I KNOW it’s wrong. I keep thinking of a tainted version of Barbara Mandrell “ If being jealous of you is wrong, I don’t wanna be right”

Unfortunately, reader, you’ll have to sit through a conversation between an immature mind and a sometimes wise but heavily fortified heart.

How do we get to the point that our rational thoughts match our undeniable emotions;
when what we know to be true and sane manifests in our facial expressions, body language and words. I do not have the luxury of a facial filter. If I think you are full of shit, my face shows it. Anger is not hidden by a gentile smile. But the positives are there too – if it’s compassion, I have the brow furrow. Giggly? I have a genuine smile. Is all this lack of self control? Is it self centered? Or is it just being honest?

From what I read, if I am to call myself a Christian, then it is a lack of self control. And, I guess I don’t have God in my response to obstacles. Great.
But….wait a minute…..
Oh crap. I think I’ve just crossed over into the realm of blog incongruence – I’m totally contradicting my previous blog about control!! (volume rising…) Argh! JEALOUSY IS ABOUT CONTROL AND A LACK THEREOF!!! Ding Ding Ding! The light bulb flashes are blinding, whew.
Screw derby, better go sign up for WWE cuz here I go wrestling again and had no idea I’d gone Pro!

Ok, so now that I have that figured out. Now what? The emotions are so right there, in my face (and unfortunately, this person is too). I thought that maybe if I said that with smaller print my immaturity wouldn’t be as noticeable – heehee.
But this is a serious issue! I’m suffocating in an environment where I feel, or perceive myself, powerless while someone else acts like they don’t want said power but don’t mind flaunting it in my general direction when they can. Hmph.

I figure now I will be preying ( oops, Freudian) PRAYING that this person goes as far as their talents take them and that they are very successful. OMG – that almost makes me sick to write out it’s so sappy :D
Nope, I’ll be praying for an attitude adjustment for myself. To overlook faulty situations or injustices and truly wish the best for someone else. So, there.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Irrepairable damage

I know I am personally and spiritually responsible for what I write but I don’t think I’ll ever stop struggling with why these words are here. In my brain. Ready to be purged just when the time is right. Grammatically incorrect and socially irresponsible.

The times when I am most uninhibited is when I scare myself the most. But my consciousness is open, my thoughts free and words come pouring out. I feel more myself and less of a victim of identity crisis. Forget identity fraud – hell, let someone have my identity- it is still unknown to me. What can they do with it that I can’t?

When heart hinges open and pure desire threatens to enrage, drooling red intensity, I know I can’t stay here. I would burn. Fanning flames of hell. How would you like to know that not only would you be in hell – you’d be using a billow?

Mercy and Grace. Reigning down for transgressions and meant to comfort but really only make me question my worth. These are more like names parents use on their kids… or burdens. Grace is a burden because I can’t seem to live by the rules without summoning inner demons.

I’ve often wanted to be something, not someone, else throughout my life – it’s a reoccurring thought that helps escape reality. Immature? Absolutely. But will I fight my nature forever? Probably. Good thing I’m not alone and this isn't new. I'm a cliche.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Of a Controlling Nature

Control. Lack of, too much, in search of, total dismissal of it....good lord, get over it.
Control is a formidable opponent but it's a lengthy, tiresome battle. And why do we pull out the WWE moves with it, wear ourselves out, wrangle it our whole lives?? Most folks seem to be actively fighting it or running from it even if spiritually we are told to hand control over to a god-figure. And what part does Ego play in all this? Isn’t it our ego that would tell us we can wield our perceived mighty power over all people and situations? I'm thinking of words like domain and territory.

Watching a close family member unquestionably (and over confidently) think that his world is truly as he made it has cured me of over-controlling my environment. If anything I've gone too far the other way and am pretty apathetic; leaving the world to rule itself. I was visiting family recently and they cracked up at my unrealized motto to myself - It Just Is What It Is. I said it a few times too many. Sounds like I've given up, right?

Luckily, I don't think I have. Or I’m just trying to justify to myself that it’s ok to be mentally lazy! Seriously though, acknowledgement of forces in this world that I have absolutely nothing to do with is comforting to my small brain. It leaves room for more fun thoughts like “ I wonder what we would look like if there were no noses, hmmmm

Weird thing is, while I don’t necessarily buy the argument that one person can rule their world, I do believe in the power of one person changing the world. One person’s donation to a cause or caring words can always do SOMETHING good. Collectively speaking, we all do huge things, both positive and negative. I'll never know what these somethings are but I believe they are there. Somewhere in the universe, I don’t even care where. It doesn’t matter. Or is this is where you give it up to God and believe in every day mysteries?

Monday, August 4, 2008


Is anyone else aware that there is a sect of soccer moms dedicated to the collection of coupons and free products?! I was just enlightened. They look very distinct - reminiscent of Trapper Keepers and folders with pictures of puppies and kitties and stuff.

They might devote enough mental energy to power Las Vegas into their coupon search but damn, gals got it going on with the $$$! Maybe they'll let me be an underling amongst them and keep my leather zipper notebook with a secret "Money Saver" divider, a little tiny calculator and list of all the free crap coming my way. I'm all about not advertising my manias!
I won't be able to mentally power a blog listing out what I bought and the coupons and the savings and the reward points and then what I bought with the points and then who I'm giving the products to..and, and, and, but I'll get the pointers - only the easy ones though.

Thank you gals for doing all the hard work - I'll be the happy gleaner in the back....