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Friday, December 30, 2005

Is There Anything to Be Thankful For?

Not to be annoying and add too much more to the endless and mostly innane End O' Year List O' Mania but... there are a couple of things that I would like to mention about this year...

SOv.2 had her 1 year birthday this year and has grown into a spectacular toddler with a surprisingly sophistocated sense of humor

SOv.1 is on his way, if not quite well on, to learning how to use the potty and successfully wear underwear thus diminishing the resources put out towards diapering and all its sundry glory

SO has discovered the wonder of the SAM-e and Vitamin B combo to even out the moods which helps out in many areas of life, his, mine and ours

I am thankful for all the friends who have kept in touch with us despite the continued exhile in the desert

I am grateful for the visits we have been honored with from family and friends... I know its a trek and its not always pleasant here though apparently people pay through the nose to stay here on a weekend... we do have to appreciate swimming in December, especially when our East Coast family and friends are experiencing snow... (SO likes to rub it in)

I am grateful to have met some new people this year who have inspired me... it is especially nice to leave 2005 on a high note of a possible film production for early 2006 in the works... and if it doesn't pan out then at least I got to leave this year hopeful!

I am so glad that we continue in good health

I am glad that I turned 40 this year but don't feel it and was told today (thank you Judy!) don't look it

I will miss my Uncle Tom who passed away in October but am so thankful to me Mommasita for framing lovingly and giving me his last painting...

I look forward to 2006 and will probably ring in the New Year with a book in hand, nursing SOv.2, listening to SOv.1 snoring beside me in 'big bed' while SO, poor lovely, works hard for the money at the hotel where he will be dodging drunken revellers swaying down the hallways. I am grateful he will get off late, well past the time most of them will be drooling on their hotel pillows and not on the roads.

Happy New Year everyone!

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

I was going to write this week about the futility of it all, feeling as if I am stagnating in my job. (Oh yes, easy for you to say, "You, the mother, should be happy just to be raising your children". But you weren't brainwashed by the women's lib movement in your formative years convincing you that you were supposed to be successful in your career TOO otherwise you are a LOO-ZER!) But then, something happened. Things began to shift slightly and now there is a very strong possiblity that we may actually get a film in production. Not just that but one of the projects I would be a Producer on. That's right, full fledged, grown up title that it is, that's what I would do. Wow.

Not that it will all come to fruition. I fully expect each time something looks hopeful for it to fall through. That's not negative thinking. In the film industry that is just called realistic thinking. Staying IN the business is considered positive thinking and no other actions or statements are required to prove that you are indeed a hopeful person.

Now, I can't remember all the brilliant things I was going to write about faith and hope and the futility of planning... Now, I am just too busy planning for aproject that, hopefully will come together and if it does I have total faith that it will turn out great.

So much for pesimissm... can't seem to hold on to it when things go well. Funny that.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Why Don't Movies Tell the Real Story!?

... of putting little ones to bed? Add this to the annals of Things They Don't Tell You About Parenting, Volumn 500.

Its all sweetness and light in those magazines and books and websites, isn't it! Why don't they tell you about how when you finally get them to agree to stay in their own bed they revert back to yours the first time they are sick and its start from square one!

Why don't they tell you that nursing a baby till they are 2 years old is a swell idea until you consider the TEETH!

Why don't they tell you that you can't force your children to use a pacifier, soft animal or blanket to comfort themselves to sleep but that they are very likely to want to use your BOOBS!

Why don't they tell you that once asleep its not likely they will stay that way for the minimal 6 hours, forget about the 8 you really need!

This is the scene:

Wife walks into living room where Husband is embedded on the sofa. He looks up lovingly.

HUSBAND: Did she go down?
WIFE: Yes. She actually fell asleep about an hour ago but I just couldn't stop looking at that angel face.

Husband chuckles, kisses Wife on cheek as he throws a loving warm arm around her, pulling her in close for a snuggle.

What really happens:

Husband is vegging out on sofa, not listening at all to the baby monitor when Wife stomps in.

WIFE: Didn't you hear me? I have been screaming for 20 minutes!
HUSBAND: Hunh, whaa?
WIFE: Milk! The boy needs milk.
HUSBAND: Are we going to watch a movie?

Wife rolls her eyes as she stomps back into the bedroom. Sounds of screaming come from the baby monitor.

Later:

Wife sneaks quitely into the living room. Husband is sleeping, mouth agape, on sofa. The remote control dangling from his fingertips.

WIFE: Honey. Honey!
HUSBAND: Hunh, Whaa?
WIFE: You were sleeping.
HUSBAND: Uhn... Kids asleep?
WIFE: (rolling eyes) Finally. I swear if that kid keeps chewing on my boobs I am just going to cut them off! Ugh! Why can't they just go to SLEEP!
HUSBAND: Speaking of, I'm exhausted. I think I'll just go to bed. Kids in their own beds.
WIFE: (rolling her eyes) No! If you wake them up...

Sounds of rustling from the baby monitor.

WIFE: Shhhhh!
HUSBAND: Huhn, whaa?
WIFE: The babies.

Sounds of crying from baby monitor.

WIFE: Gaddamnit! Uh. I better go back in there.
HUSBAND: What time did they go down?
WIFE: Two hours ago.
HUSBAND: Alright. Well, I'll be out here watching the Daily Show.

Wife stomps back into bedroom.

Scene end.

I think we know from watching Nanny 911 and Supernanny that we are not alone. But even those shows only serve to make us feel superior. I mean, 'we' aren't as bad as those parents. But I suspect there are alot more things like sleep rituals that parenting books, magazines, websites and shows fail to mention you will have difficulty with as a parent. Can we just come clean, and not in the "parenting is the hardest job in the world" namby pamby kind of way, but in the real, yes I let my children sleep in my bed because if I don't they scream all night and make the neigbors want to call social services kind of way.... I mean please! Can we just?

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Thanksgiving.

You know, some years you skate by these holidays without event... and then some years...

We had planned on convening at my sister's house but that plan got scotched when my Grandmother had a bad fall and had to be hospitalized a few days before. I suppose we could have just stayed home but it seemed unthinkable. We wanted to be together (my sister will be in that hurricane state for Christmas this year. No, not that one, the other one. Right. The long one that gets all the aid.) so we piled kids in car at the last minute, got days off and just went.

My Grandmother was brought home from the hospital the day before Thanksgiving. Nothing broken apparently but at nearly 90 a fall takes a long time to recover from. We made the 6 hour trip, stopping along the way for food and to amuse the kids at a little park in Cabrillo on the slides, and everyone was in good spirits. Grandma seemed to be OK, my mom was there supporting my grandparents and we all wanted to support her. When we arrived at the hotel where my sister and her family were already in the suite, we called to see if we should push on to the GPs (Grandparents) or not. Nope, says my mother, go feed yourselves and then call later.

There's nothing like searching for food in a strange city. One always ends up chosing a know evil. Our choice: Hometown Buffet. I know what you're thinking! But how can you beat feeding a toddler for $1.95! And we've got a littler one (Significant Other version 2) who eats alot! It is always good on the way down but once it gets there all bets are off. Back in the hotel, everyone still in good moods if a bit loagie from too much mac and cheese and frozen yougurty-ice creamy substance with sprinkles we call Mom, who says, "Come on over. Grandma is waiting for you".

My sister drives pretty fast so here Significant Other was, in the dark on strange roads he hadn't travelled in years, trying to keep up with my saying, "Slow down. I know how to get there!" The second he whips round the corner to park in the driveway, SOv.2 throws up. I mean tons. I thought at first it was just the Hometown Buffet punishing her. Its all over her car seat. All over her and of course I have nothing but a baby blanket to wipe it all up. She's crying, SO runs into the house to get towels and bags for the clothes. I manage to clean her up, change her and make a decent, if smelly, greeting to Grandma who is bedridden.

So, poor little sweet gal, SOv.2, pukes all night long. Which means of course that I am up and awake all night. I send SO out into the foggy wilds of Santa Maria in a questionable part of town at 3 in the morning for Pedialite, which she won't drink and when she does, pukes back up. You know, there is a real problem with Pedialite that I think the manufacturers should consider: KIDS WON'T DRINK IT! In the morning I think she's finally done but just as I am getting in the shower I see my sister whip past me with a towel. Poor gal. Twelve hours of puking. That's too much for an 18 month old to take! But she handled it with her normal good grace.

Thanksgiving day went fine. I shared cooking with brother-in-law and my mom. Everyone ate, including SOv.2 who by that time was feeling better. Except me. My stomach was dodgey all day and I felt sure I was to follow in SOv.2's footsteps at any moment. But no.

Then it came time to spread the ashes. My Uncle died in October and was cremated. We had not yet planned what to do with them though my Grandma felt sure he'd want to be spread in Avila Bay. So, since we were all there, including my other Uncle, we all piled in cars, sans GPs of course and went off to Avila Bay. It was not as emotional as I had expected given but that my Uncle passed away a month earlier I presume we had all done our own seperate grieving already and collectively were only to share the acceptance portion. It was almost solemn and I'd like to say it was quiet but SOv.2 cried the entire time!

The rest of the night I thought SO and SOv.1 had dodged the bullet. They played and were happy but then on Friday we set out for home. Passing Santa Barbara we decided to stop at the beach to play a bit. Six hours in a car is kinda cruel for a toddler so you have to give them something to look forward to and back at to make the time pass more smoothly. But I should have known something was up when SOv.1 said when we stopped for a snack "Cheese icky". He's never made such a ridiculous statement in his life being that he is a great lover of cheese. So, sure enough as soon as nightfall both SO and I got the sense and I looked back and sure enough, it was his turn. I mean, being sick is bad enough but being sick while travelling is insulting.

Saturday rolls around, SOv.1 is past his 12 hours of puking and he and his sister are both firmly ensconced in sick the other end. I am feeling none too well but time does not stop for mommy, oh no! SO had to go to work so I saw to the puky clothes and car seats - which had to be dismantled, washed, sprayed, Febreezed and reassembled. There should be an award for every mother who has to do that job. I am thinking, "Cool, tailend, all on the mend" when I see SO lomping down the walkway and hour early home from work. Uh oh. No sooner than he is out of his work clothes but he's in the bathroom. At least that was his sole trip. The small benefit of years of illnesses.

I seem to have dodged the puke bullet and the backend bullet this time but I always end up sicker longer than everyone else because of it. It all has to converge somewhere those pesky germs and usually they end up in my sinuses, making my jaw throb and using up at least one full tree's worth of Kleenex.

We hope for an uneventful Christmas.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

I had my annual exam yesterday by the wonderful doctor who delivered SOv.2 in May 2004. He is a really nice guy and always seems happy even though he is perpetually sleep deprived. We had the opportunity to gossip about celebrities, talked about our kids and finally came around to the 'age' thing. (Maybe this is my new obsession alongside real estate prices.) The issue came up because he looked at my chart at the same time as he asked if I wanted to have another baby and he said "Tick tock, girl. Better get hopping on another if you're going to do it at all". I've hit that magic 'worry' number for obstetricians.

He has just turned 45 himself and thought, for him, it was a milestone. Because, as he said, he could imagine living to 80 but not quite to 90, so 45 officially meant the beginning of the end. It means for the first time he has more years behind him than in front of him. I actually thought of this when my uncle died last month. Does everyone have this thought at some point? And how does everyone shake the 'hurry up and get something noteworthy done' panic? Or worse, the 'why bother I haven't enough time anyway' malaise. Even my doctor, an OB/GYN who has delivered hundreds of babies, feels it. "I feel like I haven't accomplished anything yet!" he said. Not a comforting thought for ME. My accomplishments are slim compared to his. But then he was talking about things like travelling in Europe, seeing movies, reading books... not work accomplishments. What I was thinking about were work accomplishments. And in that regard I have fared poorly. I have been busy busy busy trying to accomplish things my whole adult life and several years back into my childhood when I was certain that acting was my path (at the age of 7 no less) and was trying to rack up credits. But frankly, when I look at it now I have very mixed feelings. I am proud of the work that I have done. But work itself doesn't impress and could I talk about what I have accomplished in my worklife at, say, a cocktail party and be as proud? I haven't one (or several) things that I can point to that make me feel, "See, I did what I set out to do".

I pointed out to the doctor that since I just turned 40 that I was officially invisible to the world. He looked a little worried until I told him that for a man they didn't really have to worry until they were 65... or poor. I guess one of the beauties of being invisible is that you can do whatever the hell you want to. But one of the problems with that is that since you are invisible, no one will notice. (Its just slightly possible that I am overly concerned with what others think of me but you would never be able to tell that by my appearance!!)

Another gloomy consequence of being 40 is the onset of the annual mamogram. I now have a referral to have one, once SOv.2 stops nursing that is, and a handy little bit of concern about The Mom ' Pop Boob.

(OK, that's a long story: When I was struggling to nurse SOv.1, who was born about 6 weeks prematurely, my sister - who was, like SO and myself, out of work at the time - spent alot of time with us and the new baby. Since SOv.1 was not really good at nursing I had to pump and the left boob was always the big producer. I remarked that SOv.1 didn't like the left breast much because it was the big one, but he liked the littler right one because it was not so looming and more friendly. My sister then named them The Corporate Boob (left) and The Mom 'n Pop Boob (right). There you have that story...)

No doubt, it amounts to nothing but that since I am still nursing baby at night and mornings and my appointment was at 2pm my milk ducts were filled. But the doctor was being overly cautious, making me promise to wean that girl soon and go get a mamogram. One out of every eight women now gets breast cancer. The incidence is on the rise and they are not sure why and on top of that in his particular practice they have had a spate of incidents. Rotten.

"Boobs. Whaaa. Good god... What are they good for? Absolutely nursing. Say it again. Huuuu. Boobs..."

Of course, SO would not agree with above assessment. But really at this age, what are they doing dangling there all vulnerable being possibly 1 out of 8? Why isn't testicular cancer as prevelant? Fat tissue? Male dominance? We're starting to close the ranks in female heart attacks but they'll never catch us at breast cancer! Ha! Though some men do get it and no doubt its much more scary for them.

I wish I had some sort of conclusion to this line of thought to console myself with... The only thing I can think is I must remember to always take my vitamins... and hope I live to 90. Oh, imagine the dangling then!

Monday, October 31, 2005

We lost my Uncle Tom on Thursday. He was only 55. He was my 'favorite' uncle. He being an artist, a musician and in his last years a gardener. He was creative, like me and so I related to him well. He was also just 15 when I was born and so I saw more of him during visits to my Grandparents than my other uncle. I just thought he was cool and funny.

We found out on Tuesday that he had been admitted to the hospital. He was in intensive care and hooked up to all sorts of ventilators, feeding tubes, etc. I spoke to the nurse who told me a lot more than perhaps she was meant to, he being an adult, and me being just a neice. But she could hear in my voice, no doubt, the grief and sadness I already felt. Its like being encased in gelatin. You feel insulated by the emotion from the rest of the world. Sometimes the outside is so blurry, and sometimes it comes into such stark focus, but its as if the volume has been turned down. You see and hear everything, they just do not impact you as normal. Then as days go by and you begin to deal with the process of what a loss means to your life and your family the layer of gelatin begins to diminish. But that sock in the gut can come at any moment and the ping in the jaw that alerts you to the iminent tears.

I have always tried to keep regret at bay in my life. Partially because I believe its mostly a wasted emotion and partly because I believe its a little self indulgent. But I do regret the times when I had an opportunity to be closer to my uncle and I didn't take advantage of them. Or didn't create them. I suppose that is normal. But a thought keeps coming back to me that I must hang on to. That its an honor to share a part of someone's life. A life is such a monumental thing. No one has any obligation to share any part of theirs with you, for afterall who are any of us anyway? But to be able to share in someone's life is special.

I have always felt grateful to people who actually want to spend some of their time on me. And this morning, as I was starting t0 forget all the poignant and important things that grief teaches, I was reminded. I stopped by Staples on my way to work and was approached by a man. He actually pursued me down the aisle. Now, you can look at it either way. I could have run scared and thought "crack pot". But then what do each of you gain? He was a vivacious and vibrant person and obviously on some sort of drug, X or shrooms or something. It would have been much simpler to panick and run away. But I made myself stay and LISTEN to him. You know, methed out or whatever he may have been, he is still a human being and has value and an important life. He chose me to share some of it with for a few minutes in a Staples in Cathedral City. It may not have lifelong impact as a family member has, but it certainly was a little hello for both of us. We walk around the world so all alone sometimes that maybe we forget a little bit that there are others and that we affect them.

It occurs to me that life is not just experienced individually but collectively. And when I start thinking, "Why did my uncle have to die so young?" I remember that without loss there can be no experience of joy in gain.

In the way of major life events, my sister's baby was born on Monday, October 24th (the day my uncle was admitted to the hospital and in effect, lost to the world) in Guatemala City, Guatemala. They were told on Thursday that he belongs to them, the same day my uncle died. We lost one man in the family and we gained another little one. Its just so like life. It made for a terrible wonderful week.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

Well jeez... after my birthday on Tuesday I thought I would write something profound about turning 40, after my Significant Other (SO) and my son (SOv.1) and daughter (SOv.2) came to take me to lunch. But profundity escaped me then and has elluded me for the past few days.

But I did have a nice birthday. My SO made sure that many of my friends knew I was turning 40 by emailing out a picture of me looking rather demonic, an "oh my God I can't be this old" smile on my face, alongside my lovely sister who had just passed on the "This is what 40 looks like" T-shirt. We can thank SO's mother for finding the shirt and giving it to her oldest who then passed it on to SO who then passed it on to his younger brother, in turn it went to my sister then to me last Saturday. It will go to my sister's SO in just a year and a half. So no smirking bro!

I recall starting my graduate degree at SDSU and being a little overwhelmed by the youth there! And I was 28 then! I remember walking around the campus on the first day looking at all the teenaged freshmen, in their high heeled boots (they were in for a brief period in the 90's if you remember) and short skirts - no they weren't hookers in broad daylight - and their smug "I'm so hot and I'm gonna get laid whenever I wanna" attitudes and thinking, "Gals, time and gravity. Happens to everyone." But certainly I didn't contemplate that I would get THIS old, I was just thinking that they would all get as old as I felt then, being ten years older than most of them! Funny how as human beings somehow you don't really believe the rules apply to yourself... this is the primary problem in Washington at the moment...

But, no. Nothing really eyeopening to add to the discourse on aging. All I can say is I love my friends, many who emailed with good wishes, I love my SO and the kids - SOv.1 and SOv.2. I love my family who all came to spend the day with me on Saturday before my birthday. When it comes right down to it, its ALL about your relationships with the ones you love and as I lift my fingers, and move on to my toes to count the ones I love and who seem to love me back, I find I run out of appendeges on which to number them and find I am really, really, really lucky. I have a lot of 'people' and that is the prize I get for my birthday.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Earthquake, mudslide, hurricane, tsunami... Manmade: Genocide, war, terrorism

Is it just me or does this seem like a bad year?

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

My biggest fear is that I will have no impact.

Monday, September 26, 2005

Tragedies have a way of focusing individual dialogue on the meaning of life, particularly big ones like Hurricane Katrina and the tsunami... And inevitably, someone, or I should say, somemany begin to try and 'dialogue' about if we, as individuals, are doing "enough" to make the world a better place. The implication being something like, if you aren't volunteering, giving of time, money and/or resources then somehow you don't care or are, worse, useless and/or a malignant force in the universe.

It irks me. Not because I don't believe this isn't a valid line of questioning. But shouldn't we always be questioning what we are doing? I wonder what ever happened to being a good person? Why isn't being a good person contribution enough to society? And what do you tell a 3 year old is contribution enough to (his) world if being a good person isn't enough?

I think all line of reasoning should be simplified to a 3 year old level. If it doesn't make sense to a 3 year old then we are just making it too damn complicated, as we human beings are wont to do.

Here's my thinking. If you can't give money because you don't it; you can't give time because you don't have any to spare; if you can't give other resources because you have just enough for your own - are you automatically uncaring and not a good person? No! Duh! Because, its not just in hurricane zones where people have needs, its in all zones at all times. We all have a need to be respected, valued and cared about even if that doesn't include the sending of a care package. That's what good people do afterall, isn't it? Care at all times and do what they can to contribute always, even if it is a modest contribution like saying hello to the postal worker instead of just demanding stamps...

I know we are a 'do do do' society and the beef most people have at times like this is that it seems to translate into 'do for myself' often. It can seem like someone else has so much and you yourself have so little so why don't they give some of it up! And in the aftermath of a hurricane, I admit that I had more shampoo than many of the survivors did at first... But, that doesn't make my work, raising children, running a family and trying to get films made any less giving to society, does it?

And the whole talk of connecting, as long as we are talking about making connections with each other, with ourselved and not with our stuff, I suppose that is alright. But when making a connection, lending a hand, giving, is put in a way that elicits guilt, isn't that just as bad as being materialistic?

Clearly I am rambling... If I am making any sense responses welcome...

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Thanks to Anonymous who posts the following in response to the yearning for fame I mused about:

"Emotional and intellectual maturity should eventually kick in but for some reason this has not happened to far too many. Will the tide turn, will we learn what is important, did 9/11 give us a clue, Katrina show us how immune we've become to our fellow humans? Answers?"


Wondering if our national obsession with youth is coming back to bite us. When you sequester all your old people and ignore what they have to say, and believe that your parents are "like stupid" well into your 30s (because of course you have now people in their late 20s behaving like teens - because our country has such a lust for youth and all that is pretty), and most of what is "wowed" on TV is youth, beauty and wealth its pretty simple to lose perspective. Life is long and hard. We will all grow old if we are so lucky. Funnily enough, time and gravity works the same on everyone.

Question arises, is anyone growing old gracefully anymore?

When you spend alot of time alone, watching TV or going to movies, which I think a disproportionate number of Americans now do (I think it was my mom who noticed the statistic that now more than half of all Americans are single and live alone!!), you start to believe that the only interesting/important/worthy people are young and pretty and reeeeely reeely famous! No wonder all the old people tend to congregate together. Its probably less we shooed them away than that they just couldn't stand young people anymore. Which reminds me of the marker of adulthood I noticed I'd hit several years ago; You know you're old when 20-somethings start to irritate you.

So, what ever happened to Mike Douglas? (I don't mean him in particular, I mean his ilk.) What ever happened to talking to people who have actually accomplished something in their life, or have something interesting to say? Where are all the Nobel Prize winners being interviewed these days? Probably only in print, in small circulation magazines... because really who cares about science when
BritneeeSpeeers just had a baybeeeee! Uh mu God!

Monday, September 19, 2005

So, what do we think? Is blogging meant to say something of importance that has been burning within? Or really just to post pictures of your children so you can stop clogging up your relatives' and friends' emails? Or a mixture of both? Or maybe just a whine page... I think that mine will be for insomnia. I often wake up two or three times in the night... thinking. There are times when the brain beast can't be shut up... or sometimes its just the little one wanting nursed or me out of the way (yes, shocking, we sleep with our baby. People have done it for thousands of years, I can't understand why now its controversial... this is a whole other subject to be blogged about at some later date).

But I have been musing on why blog. And it occurs to me that it is just another way to feel important. OK, hackles down, I mean that in the best possible way. We all should feel important but doesn't it seems as if most of us may not anymore? Fifty years ago, how many really wanted to be famous? Now, doesn't everyone? Or seems like. Its no longer enough to be famous in your own life. No, for it really to count, one must be nationally recognized! On TV, in the paper is not even enough anymore!, in People Magazine! When did we all get so out of sorts on this issue? And what is ironic is that, most people, if they could really live the life of someone famous would probably not want it.

And it also occured to me, as I was thinking about this, that the only significant difference between being famous and now, say for instance for me, would be that there would be more insincere people in my life. If there was financial prosperity that went along with the fame I would be doing the exact same things, but in better clothes. I'd still have the same family, the same friends (I wouldn't trade the ones I got for none others!), the same kids, the same weight probably, the same face... and on and on... Same you, different stuff.

So, my only conclusion can be that in our individual lives we feel insignificant, a hole, that we feel fame - adulation from somewhere else - would fill. Its sad. Maybe we are too dispersed. I met James Howard Kunstler (http://www.kunstler.com/) when I was going to graduate school in SDSU, when I worked as the Speaker Coordinator on a conference held by the International Center for Communications housed on that campus. He was the keynote speaker and blew the audience away... not in the way they would have liked, 'they' being a bunch of conservative businessmen and women. James is the sort of anti-businessman. Not that he wants there not to be any, but that he doesn't believe the paradigm can last. We are too far afield from what is important. I certainly feel disjointed being so far away from most of my friends. But also things that we as humans cling to but may not quite consciously realize, like a Whole Foods, a park, a neighborhood street with houses you like to look at, a favorite burrito place. Life used to be encased in a little community and that was where you found your importance, your feelings of belonging and self-worth. Now that we are so seperated we cling to images and ideas that stir us, like Oh, wouldn't it be great to win the lottery and buy a big house. Could it just be possible that what we really all want, what we really all need, is a little company now and then?

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

OK. And now reading my own post I find that, in light of all the tragedy in the world, I sound quite whiny. Gross and apologies all around...
You ever feel like there must be a sea change coming and then it doesn't happen... here is my beef for the day. I am a big one for affirmations and taking personal responsibility for your actions and eating right and taking your vitamins and... but at some point, despite all the optimism you were able to generate out of thin air, you just need results!

I don't think I need to go into my myriad petty frustrations {INSERT COMPLAINT HERE}... you all can relate, anyone can relate. I just want to know when things are gonna start to happen!