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Author, Historian, Storyteller

Happiness, Life, PermissionOne comment so far

Sometimes we have to be reminded that not all ailments can be seen from the outside. That the people with the biggest smiles are often the ones who are hurting the most. Sometimes we have to be reminded that if we are the ones hurting the most, we do not have to bear that pain alone. That we are not a burden. Sometimes we have to be reminded that someone shares our story. That someone has walked in our shoes and knows the weight of our soul. Sometimes we have to be reminded that sharing our traumas does not necessarily mean a transfer of pain. That the sharing can create a lightness for all involved.

Sometimes we have to be reminded that we are not alone. That we have people by our side to catch us if we fall. Sometimes we have to be reminded that the people by our side are not always the ones we think. That love and support can come from unlikely places. Sometimes we have to be reminded that we do not support the world’s weight. That we can stop and take a break without guilt. Sometimes we have to be reminded that taking care of ourselves first is smart, not selfish. That it’s okay to do something that benefits only us. Sometimes we have to be reminded that saying no to one thing is like saying yes to everything. That just because a ball is thrown our way, does not mean that we have to play catch.

Sometimes we have to be reminded that a smile goes a lot farther than a frown. That just because we are surrounded by miserable people, does not mean that we have to be miserable too. Sometimes we have to be reminded that misery loves company. That miserable people, at times, will try to drag us down. Sometimes we have to be reminded that it is our choice if they succeed or fail. That no one but us, gets to determine our happiness. Sometimes we have to be reminded that we get to choose who gets our time and our love. That that time and love should be reciprocated or it is not deserved.

Sometimes we have to be reminded that doing what is best for us, might mean leaving somebody else behind. That we are not in charge of saving everyone. Sometimes we have to be reminded that we can’t save anyone. That they have to save themselves. Sometimes we have to be reminded that showing someone the tools to save themselves is the most precious gift we can give. That confidence is not born from handouts and unearned victories. Sometimes we have to be reminded that life is full of little victories. That each and every one deserves a celebration. Sometimes we have to be reminded that life is full of ups and downs but we only get the one. That that one life is better lived focusing on the ups and surrounding ourselves by those who will celebrate with us.

Sometimes we have to be reminded.

reminder

Life, Top TenLeave a comment

We just had a nasty hot spell, complete with extreme heat advisories, which caused me to say some odd things. Here are the top ten:

  1. When did we move to Arizona?
  2. I don’t care if I have to sell a kidney to pay the bill, I am not turning the AC off.
  3. We’re only allowed to eat cold food or take out, because running the microwave and the AC at the same time flips a breaker. And don’t you dare even think about turning on the oven!
  4. Yes! I’m gonna take a cold shower!
  5. Go outside? You’re funny! Not a chance in hell.

Corn_Popcorn

  1. Don’t touch me, nobody touch me, it’s too hot!
  2. Yes, I was planning on spending the evening moaning on the floor in front of the fan. Why do you ask?
  3. Well this is just stupid hot!
  4. Whatever food we don’t eat is getting tossed, because I’m hanging out in the fridge today.
  5. No, I’m not wearing pants, and you can’t make me!

 

In case you all didn’t notice, I tend to whine when I’m hot . . .

Live and Learn, WomenView all 5 comments

Growing up I always vociferously declared that I was not a feminist. To me, being a feminist was a bad thing because feminists were all about burning bras, down with men, men suck and women are goddesses. Quite frankly, that’s just not how I roll. In my mind, men and women are equal despite society/history’s insistence that we’re not. Therefore, to accomplish that equality, men do not need to be torn down, women need to rise. Pretty simple concept in thought, not so simple in practice. With that belief and the work that I have been drawn to, it has become abundantly clear that I am indeed a feminist and that’s a good thing. I am simply a feminist with a small “f” (second definition) as opposed to a feminist with a capital “F” (first definition). It is through that distinction that I have been able to finally, comfortably declare myself a feminist.

Feminist

However, I’ve discovered that the more research that I do into under-represented women in our past and the more that I read things about under-representation in our present the more that it seeps into my everyday thoughts and the more miserable I get. For example, some friends and I went to see the new Planes movie “Fire and Rescue.” An animated kid’s movie for a cute 90 minute diversion. However, instead of enjoying the show, I left frustrated, hating the movie because I had spent the entire time examining it under a feminist magnifying glass. (For anybody that hasn’t seen it, and doesn’t want spoilers, I would suggest that you stop reading.)

In the movie, there are three memorable female characters. The first we meet is a mechanic – nice, female representation in what is primarily a male dominated profession. The second is a plane in the Fire and Rescue division – again nice female representation. The third is a sweet little old camper lady on vacation with her sweet little old camper husband – gonna reserve judgment on this one. Now as the movie progresses we discover that the female mechanic, who is touted for being an amazing mechanic, is unable to fix our lead character’s engine. Not only can’t she fix it, but she sadly informs him that it can’t be fixed, no way, no how and they can’t find a replacement. Flash forward to the end and the main Fire and Rescue mechanic, who is a man, builds our lead character a brand new engine like it’s no big deal, completely invalidating the expertise of the female mechanic.

Let’s take a look at the second female character – the Fire and Rescue plane. Yes, she works in this great job and she’s good at what she does. However, the primary focus of this character isn’t when she’s working, but during the down time in between. What we see there is a dingy, sex-crazed, socially-awkward woman who unabashedly pursues the main character, despite the fact that he never gives her any indication that he’s interested. This tells us that for a woman to want to hold that kind of job then clearly it’s because there is something lacking in her personality so she is unable to get a husband and settle down. Awesome.

Now let’s move on to the sweet little old camper couple. They venture off to visit the bridge where they met, and of course that’s when the wildfire kicks in and really starts raging. So they’re trapped and have to be saved by our hero the main character. However, when we finally see them on the burning bridge they aren’t both huddled together awaiting a rescue. Oh, no! The woman is practically dangling off the bridge, being held up by her husband. In a situation where both a man and a woman needed rescuing, they had to make it so that the woman needed rescuing more. The silly broad couldn’t stay away from the edge and now she’s made herself a helpless victim twice over.

I was so bitter and frustrated. From an animated movie for kids. Let me repeat that, an animated movie, for kids, left me bitter and frustrated. After I had time to cool down and shake it off, I realized how ridiculous I was being. Instead of just enjoying the stupid animated movie and relaxing for 90 minutes I had fixated on everything that I deemed to be wrong. Instead of focusing on the intended message that you have to face your fears and sometimes you have to be willing to sacrifice yourself in order to help others, I focused on the fact that I wasn’t satisfied with the female characters. It was at this moment that I stopped and asked myself, to be a feminist, do I really have to be a feminist all the time? Do I really have to be on the look-out for every little indiscretion, or slight that is perpetrated toward women at all times, everywhere? Or am I allowed to leave the battlefield behind from time to time and simply live? Live without a bigger purpose, without a betterment in mind. Simply live for the pleasure of the moment, which may mean that I will occasionally enjoy things that don’t fall in line with the feminist agenda.

Tunnel Vision

My conclusion, absolutely. I am not the type of person that can crusade for a cause 24/7 without losing my mind and just being miserable. I know that about myself, I have to split my focus. There is a reason that I find Lucy Stone so much more intriguing and influential than Susan B. Anthony, and that is because Lucy refused to have tunnel vision. Susan B. Anthony and her contingent fought tooth and nail for women’s rights and tried to quash any legislature that did not positively address women – feminist with a capital “F.” On the other hand, Lucy Stone fought tooth and nail for women’s suffrage, but she also fought tooth and nail for abolition and rights for African Americans – feminist with a small “f.” She believed that rights and empowerment for any marginalized group was a step in the right direction for gaining rights and empowerment for all marginalized groups. Her fight for women’s suffrage never lessoned, she simply understood that there were other things in life worthy of her attention as well. Now I’m not saying that I am anywhere near the caliber of a Lucy Stone, I am way too selfish to be placed amongst the likes of her. However, I think we can all benefit from widening our perspective and recognizing that there may be things outside of our main goals that are worthy of our attention too.

Life, PoetryLeave a comment

I am in transition.
I wonder if I can make it through.
I hear my thoughts of self-doubt, but
I see myself succeeding.
I want to see more.
I am selfish.

I pretend that I am renowned.
I feel important.
I touch people’s lives.
I worry about nothing.
I cry rarely.
I am a powerful woman.

I understand that I need to stop day dreaming.
I say I will.
I dream more.
I try to figure out ways to make my dreams real.
I hope that I will amount to something.
I am ready to move forward.

Day Dreamer

LifeOne comment so far

Last night I was exhausted. To tell the truth I was exhausted all day yesterday, but I knew that if I went to bed without showering that I would have to get up all that much earlier the next morning to shower and then dry my hair. Groaning and complaining to myself about my need to “be clean” and “professional looking” at work, I got in the shower. So there I was exhausted, dripping wet with face wash lathered all over my face when I looked slightly up and right as I was closing my eyes to stick my face under the flow of water, what did I see? A spider. A spider descending from the ceiling to land directly on my head.

Now, I am usually pretty ambivalent towards spiders. If it’s not poisonous or dirtying up my apartment with cobwebs than I say live and let live. If it gets near the floor then it’s probably a goner because Zoey likes to chase and eat them. But hey, natural selection. This is usually my attitude toward spiders. However, when one of them descends from the ceiling and lands in my hair while I’m trying to shower, well then that is a whole different ball game my friend! I AM NOT A FAN OF THAT!

I found myself, under the spray of water making the face wash drip all over the place, which meant that I had more soap than eyeballs in my eye sockets and a spider in my hair. Have you ever tried to do the “HOLY GOD THERE’S A SPIDER ON ME, GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF!!!” dance while in the shower? It’s harder than it sounds, because let’s face it, quickly moving your feet around while in a wet bathtub is just gonna lead to you slip and break your neck, especially when you have your eyes closed because they’re full of soap and stinging like nobody’s business!

spider3

I am a problem solver though, so I made do. I maniacally broke into the “HOLY GOD THERE’S A SPIDER ON ME, GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF!!!” dance without moving my feet, while keeping my face under the water in a vain attempt to rinse out my eyes. Truth be told I am amazed that I didn’t throw out my back. While flailing about I smacked my elbow on the wall, tore down the curtain and practically ripped out half of my hair trying to find the spider in it. Meanwhile the puggles had run in, because clearly from the sounds emanating from the bathroom a deranged serial killer must have snuck in and was in the process of ax murdering me. Instead of finding a serial killer, they found me, standing in a bathtub with no curtain, frantically switching between trying to rinse a spider out of my hair and clear the soap out of my eyes.

In typical Bubba fashion he joined me in the shower, leaving me with not only a wet bathroom, but a wet dog as well. Joyous.

Oh, and what happened to the spider you ask? He might have gotten away and went back to all of his spider buddies to tell the tale of the crazy wet woman who had a seizure. Or he might still be in my hair. Hell if I know. I’m going to have nightmares for weeks. It’s gonna be a long day.

Fathers, Life, Live and LearnLeave a comment

Growing up it was a rare occurrence to see my father truly upset or mad. It’s true that my sister and I were better behaved than most kids – that tends to happen when you have to start helping care for your mother by the time you’re eight – but we were not angels, and there were plenty of opportunities for dad to get upset with us. Despite this, he would rarely get mad. One day, after doing something that I was sure would result in at least a few fireworks, and getting none, I actually asked him why he didn’t get upset more often. After all, my friends talked about their parents blowing gaskets on a regular basis. Then my dad said something that has stuck with me ever since. He said, “Kid, there are better things to get upset about in this life than (insert whatever dumb but inane thing I had done).”

There are better things to get upset about.

How simple, yet profound is that statement. Think about all of the things that you got upset about in the past week, the past month. How many of them, in retrospect, weren’t really that big of a deal? I’m gonna guess most of them. That’s at least what I discovered when I really started looking at the things that I got upset about. So I stopped. Now don’t get me wrong, I have my moments and I’ve definitely gotten upset with people, but years later, I find that like my father, it takes a lot to get me truly upset or mad. I’ve learned that I have better things to expend my energy on. I choose my battles. However, what I’ve recently come to discover is that it really goes beyond choosing your own battles because when you get upset you’re actually choosing a battle for someone else as well.

'If you want to yell at our service agent because you're a frustrated psycho who has no say at home or work, and want to take it out on others, press 1.'

I work with a couple of people who get upset about everything, and I mean everything! We’re talking if somebody moves their lunch from one side of the fridge to the other on the wrong day then somebody is getting yelled at, and not necessarily the person who moved the lunch. I’ve seen it time and time again and what I’ve noticed is that it becomes this horrible chain reaction. Person 1 gets pissed off so they yell at Person 2. Person 2 is now upset because they were yelled at, so they take it out on Person 3. Person 3 is now in a bad mood so they take it out on Person 4, etc. It keeps going until somebody finally takes the abuse, but instead of passing it on, they let it roll off their shoulders and they greet the next person they see with a smile instead of a frown. It keeps going until somebody finally realizes that they didn’t do anything wrong, that the other person is having some sort of an issue. It keeps going until someone decides that there are better things to get upset about. But who knows how many people have been negatively affected by the time you get to that last person who chooses to let that battle pass them by.

Think about it, how many times have you been around someone who gets upset at everything and then watched as that ire is passed on to someone else. It’s like a virus and I’ve realized that I’ve come to a point in my life that I don’t have time for people like that. I realize that there are better things to get upset about than the ordinary idiocy of everyday life, and with that I realize that there are better people to spend my time with than those who get worked up over the smallest infraction. I guess I feel like life is too short to be mad all day.

Depression, PoetryLeave a comment

The Fall

I stand atop my hill,
Though not triumphantly.
I stand.
I await.
I await a battle that always comes, but seems impossible to win.
The battle begins, slowly at first.
A harsh word,
Stare,
Or sometimes it only takes a silence to cause me to slide down my hill.
But I fight, and I struggle to regain the top.
I claw and bite and kick.
Anything to keep me from sliding backwards into the dark abyss.
But I don’t win.
By the end of the day every step forward I’ve taken, I’ve fallen back three.
Before long I’ve assumed a continual descent.
Not quietly though.
I grab for every branch, no matter how small.
I scream for help.
Yet nobody hears me. The branches eventually break.
Quickly my descent becomes more and more rapid,
Until the hill is gone.
I fall backwards screaming and kicking into my own dark abyss.
Suddenly I hit the bottom with all the force of a cosmic explosion that no one feels but me.
I weep uncontrollably.
I curl myself into a ball and weep for no reason.
When I am through, I fall into a slumber greater than that of the Beauty.
Slowly I feel myself lifted, as if on a heavenly cloud escorted by a band of angels.
They lift me heaven-ward and deposit me back on my hill.
Where I will awake, once more, to fight my demons.

 

The Recovery

I stand upon my hill.
I fell like every time before,
But this time I did not fight.
I did not struggle.
I did not claw, bite and kick.
I allowed the branches to whiz by,
And I allowed the silence to remain untouched by my screams.
By not fighting I finally won the battle.
I learned something,
My demons inhabited the corners of my mind, and my mind alone.
By denying the fight they had grown to cherish, I denied their existence,
And they disappeared.
When I hit the bottom, it was with a whimper.
However, this time I did not curl up and weep.
I did not give in to the peaceful slumber.
I got up and sent the angels back from where they came.
I got up and climbed,
Hand over hand.
Every slip renewed my strength and conviction that I was going to reach the top.
This time on my own terms.
Exhausted, battered and bruised I reached the peak as the fiery sun crested the ridge.
But I did not need the sun.
For the power that was granted to me through victory out shown even the brightest star.
I finally stood atop my hill, triumphant.
Weary, but too proud to sleep.

Change, Humor, InspirationLeave a comment

There comes a time in everybody’s life when you realize that you are going to have to finally face the music and either accept the life that you have, or start making some serious changes to become the person that you want to be. You can change your look, your location, your job, you can even buy all the latest toys with the coolest bells and whistles available, but until you start to change your own thought patterns and processes you’ll still be the same person. You’ll just look different and be surrounded by cool stuff. But what happens if you choose to make those changes?

I recently made that choice, specifically pertaining to my attitude toward my job, and let me tell you, it has been like a breath of fresh air. I get more done and I’m happier. You see, I am still in a sustenance day job. It isn’t anything that I specifically enjoy doing, but I also don’t hate what I’m doing. The problem lies in the fact that I know what I would rather be doing, but I haven’t gotten to the point that that pays the bills. So until then, sustenance job, and somehow I managed to find that needle in a haystack job that pays the bills, but doesn’t consume my life. It doesn’t stress me out, and when I leave, I leave it all on my desk. Work doesn’t come home with me.

Attitude

Despite this, for a good long while, I have hated my job. Because it wasn’t what I wanted to be doing and it took up precious time that I could have been devoting toward my writing. The game changer for me happened when I realized that by hating my job I WAS taking it home with me. I was creating more stress than necessary and allocating unnecessary head space to a sustenance job. How ridiculous is that? So I decided to stop. I decided to stop dreading coming in in the morning. I decided to stop counting the hours and the minutes until I got to go home. I felt a bit like a fish out of water for a while, but I’ve started to get used to this new attitude and getting out of bed in the morning is so much easier now. Not to mention that my days are much more pleasant!

Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not like every day has become a bed of roses for me. I still have my down days, and every now and then I find myself in bed like a petulant child telling my alarm clock that I don’t wanna get up! But things are better. The fact that I’m getting up earlier also means that I have time to make some coffee to drink on my way in to work, so I’m sure that that helps too. But really, it’s the attitude change that has really made the difference. This is a step. And quite frankly this step is probably the calm before the storm, because I’m a hop, skip and a jump away from being able to venture out on my own and I definitely feel like there won’t be very much calm then. Lots and lots of busy, but good busy so I’m looking forward to it. The trick will be to keep that attitude once I’m there! What attitudes can you change that will make your life better?

cliche2

*This blog brought to you by @SteveLeeHwd who challenged me to write a blog using all nine of the clichés listed in this article from HuffPo.

 

Inspiration, LifeOne comment so far

Over the course of this year I have been put on three different medications, and all three of them came with the oh-so-wonderful side-effect of weight gain. Lucky me! Because of that I now weigh more than I ever have in my entire life. I am overweight. Not to the point that my weight is causing health problems, but to the point that losing some weight should be a top priority. So, exercise and eating a clean, healthy diet are at the forefront of my life, right? Wrong. I was recently diagnosed with costochondritis, a swelling of the cartilage around my sternum and lower ribs. Yes, it hurts. A lot. Wanna know what the cure is? Rest, and don’t use your ribs as much as humanly possible until the symptoms go away . . . which could take up to six months. That’s right, I’m not allowed to exercise for up to six months.

Cookie w Oranges

So I find myself in a year with unprecedented weight gain, unable to exercise. Crap! That means that the only hope I have of getting back into my size 10/12 clothes anywhere in the near future is to watch my diet like a hawk. No sweets, no fried foods, no grease. Sign me up for salads, lean proteins and diet shakes. Right? Wrong.

I am choosing to embrace my new size.

Instead of stressing myself out and hating the way that I look in my size 14/16 clothes, I am choosing to love my body the way that it is right now. A really strange concept for someone who lives in Los Angeles, let me tell you. But this is the first time in almost a year that I have actually felt healthy for more than a day or two in a row, and that is more important to me than fitting back into a size 10.

Do I still plan on watching what I eat and filling my diet with fruits, vegetables and lean proteins? Of course. But I’m not going to deny myself a cookie every now and then. Or a burger with fries or pizza while out with friends. I have no intention of denying myself or being miserable simply because of a number that is sewn into my clothes. That number doesn’t dictate who I am, no matter how big or how small. Do I plan on exercising as soon as I’m able? YES!!! I can’t tell you how much I would love to have my ass kicked by a Pilates instructor right now. Or how fantastic going to the gym and zoning out on a rowing machine sounds. That would be absolutely blissful! But I can’t. I’m one month post-diagnosis and walking my dogs is still too much for me.

So I am choosing to embrace my current reality. I am choosing to embrace the rest and relaxation that have been prescribed. (For all those who know me, pick your jaws up off the floor.) I am choosing to embrace my size. I am choosing to embrace the way that my body looks right now. There is time for weight-loss later. For now I am going to heal, and that’s going to happen a lot faster if I’m not miserable and stressed-out.

Cookie

Humor, Top TenLeave a comment

1. The thought of eating ethnic food you’ve never tried before makes you break out in a cold sweat. Actually the thought of eating anything new makes you break out in a cold sweat.

2. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve had to employ the courtesy flush more than once in a sitting. See #1

3. You will eat the same thing every day for a month with no complaints, because your IBS isn’t acting up and you don’t dare rock the boat. See #2

4. Going from trim to muffin-top back to trim over the course of an afternoon isn’t disconcerting, it’s just a day of the week that ends in Y.

5. You’ve come to accept that a bad IBS day during allergy season means that you’re staying within 10 yards of a restroom. At. All. Times.

IBS6. Conversations about poop don’t strike you as odd. In fact you find it a little bit odd when you realize that some of your friends don’t talk about poop at all, and you have a special bonding moment when your new-mother friends realize that they have someone to talk about poop with.

7. You are familiar with every homeopathic and OTC “tummy fix” and are secretly, or sometimes openly, annoyed when someone offers you one that isn’t your preferred brand.

8. You know that if you ever get appendicitis you’ll probably die because you won’t realize that that pain isn’t your normal pain/cramps/malaise until too late.

9. You play the “Is it worth it?” game with at least one dish at every buffet, BBQ and party you go to. Sometimes it’s totally worth it, other times you rue the day you were born.

10. You’ve perfected the art of farting in public . . . because it happens . . . a lot.

fart fish