So I just spent an hour reading blogs by Marc Ensign and they were thought provoking and well written and I enjoyed them quite a lot. They were recommended to me by a friend of mine who writes a clever little wine blog after we had a conversation about narcissism on the web. I'm pro narcissism by the way, not that you wouldn't have known that already, after all I'm writing this aren't I?
Anyway....while reading Mr. Ensign's well thought out and edited and planned blogs I read all of the ways that I am doing it wrong. I publish too much. Write often, publish less frequently was a suggestion. Basically write everyday, like I do but only publish once or twice a week. That way only your very best stuff gets out there. Edit, rethink, reread, polish, perfect! All of this is brilliant advice and would deliver a superior product to you, my handful of readers. And possibly deliver more readers to me. And while there was a part of me doing the amen pew nod while reading there was another part of me that was quietly settling in to the corner, arms crossed, lips pursed, eyes beginning to roll.
Because here is the real secret, I like my blog raw. I really do. It's a brain dump space for me. Sometimes something really awesome comes out of here that sparks discussion and debate. Sometimes something really awesome comes out of here that triggers memories and sharing of stories. Sometimes something really awesome comes out of here that you ask to hear more about. Fiction or nonfiction. And sometimes what I write is pretty much a waste of space. But that's my blog. It's Totally Random But....
The whole reason I started blogging was as a way to hold a conversation online with anyone who wanted to listen. Knowing full well that sometimes no one would. But as I started writing I discovered that really the function my blog holds in my life is a space to unclutter my brain. To put the ideas out there that are banging at the gates on a daily basis. I think this saves the checker at the grocery store from hearing every thought in my head when she makes the mistake of asking how things are. It keeps Brent from having to nod and smile as I tell him about the COOLEST THING I EVER THOUGHT OF! Well sometimes...because he has to listen to all of those thoughts when I am not sitting in front of a computer screen where I can dump them out on you instead.
It's a place for me to pontificate about my political, religious and social beliefs. It's a place to share things that make me happy. Or sad. Or that I find to be interesting. And I feel like the people that read my blog (mostly if not all already friends of mine) know what to expect when they come here. Because they know me. And this is what it's like to be my friend. I talk, a lot. But I also listen, a lot. I want to know why you think the way you do (so I love the comments) and I want to take your ideas and spin them off in to what they made me think about (ME! ME! ME!!).
So though I agree with Mr. Ensign's ideas on how I could make my blog so much better I guess I just don't feel the need to make it better. Or maybe it's that I don't necessarily agree with what better is in this case. I'm not trying to reach a wider audience (though you and I both know I have at times gotten wrapped up in the numbers of who is or isn't reading my work), I'm not trying to sell a product. I'm not promoting myself as an expert in any field. I'm writing. I'm sharing. I'm talking. Not polished, not edited, not perfect. Just Totally Random But....
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
A stranger....
So for today's themed picture of the day the clue was A Stranger. Sometimes right when I read the subject I have an idea. This time as soon as I read A Stranger Billy Joel's song The Stranger started playing in my head. One of my all time favorite songs. I love the whole slightly sinister feel behind it, the thought that no matter how well you know someone or how well they know you everyone still has their secrets. A part of them that they keep to themselves. I loved it when I was very young and thought of it in more literal terms, visualizing the masks. I loved it even more as I got older and started to understand what he was really talking about.
Even though Brent and I have been married for a quarter of a century (I like saying it like that, it makes it seem really substantial!) there are times when we still surprise each other with things. Sometimes something as simple as not knowing that there is a food that one of us likes or doesn't like. When we went back to Kalamazoo two years ago and drove around the town where he grew up and his cousin Kim and he shared stories of his childhood I realized how much of that part of his life I had never heard about. The time with the cousins. It was fascinating to me. This is the person that I know about as well as you can know someone and there were still things about him that I had no clue.
We had one of those moments this last weekend with his mother. We were sitting at lunch talking about her parents and Ann casually mentions that she hadn't met her father until she was 16. What? Really? I had no clue. And it turned out that Brent didn't either. It was a pretty significant piece of Ann's history that had just "never come up." And as I got that piece of her history the respect I felt for the job she did raising Brent went up even more. Her mother is unpleasant. If unpleasant means horrible, then she is truly unpleasant. And to learn that Ann didn't know her father until she was 16, and it was at her insistence...well....She had no good role models for parenting and still managed to do a pretty bang up job with Brent. There were oddities for sure and he changed those things in his parenting of C. But if Ann hadn't broken her cycle and parented Brent in a way she had never seen then Brent wouldn't have had the head start he did to be the type of parent he is to our son. Just amazed me.
And then while I was thinking all of these thoughts on people being strangers to us even when we know them very well I started thinking about writing. I make up strangers all the time. People you've never met because they don't exist anywhere except in my head until I write them down and let you "meet" them. So the picture of the day worked for me on two levels. The Stranger with Billy Joel and the strangers that live in my head.
And then I decided I should blog about it because I thought that you all would be dying to know the random thoughts in my head!
Which you and I both know you didn't find strange at all...
Not the thoughts, those you might have, the fact that I shared them with you!
Even though Brent and I have been married for a quarter of a century (I like saying it like that, it makes it seem really substantial!) there are times when we still surprise each other with things. Sometimes something as simple as not knowing that there is a food that one of us likes or doesn't like. When we went back to Kalamazoo two years ago and drove around the town where he grew up and his cousin Kim and he shared stories of his childhood I realized how much of that part of his life I had never heard about. The time with the cousins. It was fascinating to me. This is the person that I know about as well as you can know someone and there were still things about him that I had no clue.
We had one of those moments this last weekend with his mother. We were sitting at lunch talking about her parents and Ann casually mentions that she hadn't met her father until she was 16. What? Really? I had no clue. And it turned out that Brent didn't either. It was a pretty significant piece of Ann's history that had just "never come up." And as I got that piece of her history the respect I felt for the job she did raising Brent went up even more. Her mother is unpleasant. If unpleasant means horrible, then she is truly unpleasant. And to learn that Ann didn't know her father until she was 16, and it was at her insistence...well....She had no good role models for parenting and still managed to do a pretty bang up job with Brent. There were oddities for sure and he changed those things in his parenting of C. But if Ann hadn't broken her cycle and parented Brent in a way she had never seen then Brent wouldn't have had the head start he did to be the type of parent he is to our son. Just amazed me.
And then while I was thinking all of these thoughts on people being strangers to us even when we know them very well I started thinking about writing. I make up strangers all the time. People you've never met because they don't exist anywhere except in my head until I write them down and let you "meet" them. So the picture of the day worked for me on two levels. The Stranger with Billy Joel and the strangers that live in my head.
And then I decided I should blog about it because I thought that you all would be dying to know the random thoughts in my head!
Which you and I both know you didn't find strange at all...
Not the thoughts, those you might have, the fact that I shared them with you!
Friday, July 20, 2012
Moving and shaking...
Brent and I are thinking about moving. This isn't a surprise to anyone who knows us, we are almost always thinking about moving. We moved every two years when he was in the Navy and then again his first few years with Intel. We only stopped being so mobile when C went in to middle school and we decided it was best for him to have stability through the rest of his school years. But we had talked about moving as soon as he graduated.
Brent actually interviewed with a company in Pittsburgh C's junior year but it would have meant him being there and us being here for just over a year and that puts a strain on a family financially and emotionally so he turned down the job. The there was the interview last summer with the company in Tennessee. If that had been a better fit and a slightly bigger town we would have accepted the job offer there. Instead he ended up with a promotion and a new position at Intel so he moved (desks) and we stayed here.
But that doesn't mean we aren't still thinking of moving. It just might not be to a new city. Though if an offer in San Diego came about we would be packed and out of here so fast it would leave a little cartoon dust cloud behind us. So for now we are thinking of moving in to town. Or farther out of town. One of those. We are waiting until after C graduates college and settles down someplace. With the way the economy is we feel like we need to make sure we still have space for him just in case he doesn't fall right in to a position after graduation. Though, honestly, we both think he will do fine. He picked up a very marketable minor so he has double skill sets going in to the workforce. But just in case it seems like a good idea to keep room for him for another couple of years.
But then we move. Maybe. I am torn right now between three ideas. One is the downtown condo that I have dreamed of for years. Something with a view of either the skyline or, even better, a slice of the river. Something neat and tidy and within walking distance to just about anything you can imagine. The second is moving toward the coast or up in to the hills. Going more rural instead of more urban. Living on the beach would be outstanding, except for Brent's commute. Trying to get in to work could be a real challenge and would be super time consuming. Living in a little house in the middle of a wooded lot would be excellent as well. I love both ideas equally. Beach and mountain. *sigh*
And then there is the third option. We bought in to the townhouse at a pretty darn good price. We didn't get caught up in the refinancing boom when the houses were being over appraised so we don't owe more on it than it's worth. With only Brent working it's a nice manageable mortgage. There are benefits to staying put. We need to start doing the maintenance that you do after being in a house for 10 years. And part of me thinks that maybe I should just redo the floors and the kitchen and the bathrooms and stay here. We could take the money we aren't spending on a bigger mortgage and use it to go have fun. Maybe travel to mountains and beaches all over the place instead of moving to one or the other.
And I do like where we live. The inside and the proximity to things at least. I'm not thrilled with the car lot outside my window (seriously people use your garage!) and it makes me sad that they have pushed the urban growth boundary (and are petitioning to do it again!) so instead of the apple orchard and the farm land across the street I will have a new bright and shiny Arbor Homes development. But should we stay or should we go?
I have just over a year to decide I guess...though if we are staying I am doing the floors soon. George McPukington the First aka the Vomit Comet has pretty much trashed my carpets and wood floors seem like a gift from heaven...
Anyway...what do you all think? A new place on the beach, in the hills, downtown? Or this place just gutted and redone fancy and shiny? And how often do you get itchy feet and want to move and go someplace new? For me I am ready to leave a city after about 18 months. The fact that we have lived here for 10 years this time and two years before that shows how much we do love Portland. Maybe I just need to bite the cheap bullet and book a lot more travel to solve the itchy feet issue? It's a problem I have, for another day to discuss, I get a vacation all lined out then see the price at the end and FREAK THE FUCK OUT and don't book.
Hmmm....things to ponder...moving on up...to the East Side...to a deluxe apartment in the sky....or in the hills...in the woods...on the beach...to the west....
Brent actually interviewed with a company in Pittsburgh C's junior year but it would have meant him being there and us being here for just over a year and that puts a strain on a family financially and emotionally so he turned down the job. The there was the interview last summer with the company in Tennessee. If that had been a better fit and a slightly bigger town we would have accepted the job offer there. Instead he ended up with a promotion and a new position at Intel so he moved (desks) and we stayed here.
But that doesn't mean we aren't still thinking of moving. It just might not be to a new city. Though if an offer in San Diego came about we would be packed and out of here so fast it would leave a little cartoon dust cloud behind us. So for now we are thinking of moving in to town. Or farther out of town. One of those. We are waiting until after C graduates college and settles down someplace. With the way the economy is we feel like we need to make sure we still have space for him just in case he doesn't fall right in to a position after graduation. Though, honestly, we both think he will do fine. He picked up a very marketable minor so he has double skill sets going in to the workforce. But just in case it seems like a good idea to keep room for him for another couple of years.
But then we move. Maybe. I am torn right now between three ideas. One is the downtown condo that I have dreamed of for years. Something with a view of either the skyline or, even better, a slice of the river. Something neat and tidy and within walking distance to just about anything you can imagine. The second is moving toward the coast or up in to the hills. Going more rural instead of more urban. Living on the beach would be outstanding, except for Brent's commute. Trying to get in to work could be a real challenge and would be super time consuming. Living in a little house in the middle of a wooded lot would be excellent as well. I love both ideas equally. Beach and mountain. *sigh*
And then there is the third option. We bought in to the townhouse at a pretty darn good price. We didn't get caught up in the refinancing boom when the houses were being over appraised so we don't owe more on it than it's worth. With only Brent working it's a nice manageable mortgage. There are benefits to staying put. We need to start doing the maintenance that you do after being in a house for 10 years. And part of me thinks that maybe I should just redo the floors and the kitchen and the bathrooms and stay here. We could take the money we aren't spending on a bigger mortgage and use it to go have fun. Maybe travel to mountains and beaches all over the place instead of moving to one or the other.
And I do like where we live. The inside and the proximity to things at least. I'm not thrilled with the car lot outside my window (seriously people use your garage!) and it makes me sad that they have pushed the urban growth boundary (and are petitioning to do it again!) so instead of the apple orchard and the farm land across the street I will have a new bright and shiny Arbor Homes development. But should we stay or should we go?
I have just over a year to decide I guess...though if we are staying I am doing the floors soon. George McPukington the First aka the Vomit Comet has pretty much trashed my carpets and wood floors seem like a gift from heaven...
Anyway...what do you all think? A new place on the beach, in the hills, downtown? Or this place just gutted and redone fancy and shiny? And how often do you get itchy feet and want to move and go someplace new? For me I am ready to leave a city after about 18 months. The fact that we have lived here for 10 years this time and two years before that shows how much we do love Portland. Maybe I just need to bite the cheap bullet and book a lot more travel to solve the itchy feet issue? It's a problem I have, for another day to discuss, I get a vacation all lined out then see the price at the end and FREAK THE FUCK OUT and don't book.
Hmmm....things to ponder...moving on up...to the East Side...to a deluxe apartment in the sky....or in the hills...in the woods...on the beach...to the west....
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
More Music Monday!
Okay, I know it's technically Tuesday but the blog idea came to me yesterday so I am using it.
I was reading a book yesterday about sociopaths and at the beginning of a chapter the author quoted a song lyric that has to be one of my all time favorite lyrics ever. (Yes, I am reading a book about sociopaths, it's called The Sociopath Next Door and so far it's an excellent read, nonfiction, psychology) So I get to the new chapter and there it is, "I saw a werewolf drinking a piña colada at Trader Vic's and his hair was perfect." I love that line. I love the way it feels in my mouth when I say it. I love the images it brings up in my head when I hear it.
I've blogged about music before here and again a couple of days after that here. I'm a lyric person, Brent and C are about the music itself, doesn't matter what the lyrics are as much as the overall feel of the song. For me I like the lyrics. But that doesn't mean they have to be deep or meaningful or even make sense. Sometimes it's just the way the words sound together, or the way they make you feel when you sing them that matters to me. And if there is a story as well? Bonus!
Yesterday at the gym I turned off my workout playlist and went with Bat Out of Hell. The whole album for me is just perfection. Each song is a story. The words all hang together in the best ways. It's big and bombastic and over the top and just the best thing. I have loved it since I was a little kid and I still do. I can remember writing the lyrics to Two Out of Three on my notebooks when I was in high school. I thought it was just about the most perfect song ever. And honestly, I still do. Though I discovered that it's not the best gym soundtrack because I want to belt it out with Meat on every song and I do find myself doing big over the top hand and arm gestures à la Neil Diamond and Celine Dion....
Then there are issues when I am the only one listening to lyrics and have to point out that it's a happy little song about date rape. Or killing your partner's lover when you in fact have been out cheating on them as well. Or when I ask if it's the finest silver from the South of Spain when looking at jewelry and no one else gets it. Or at least they pretend not to. Because they like to pretend that Brandy isn't one of the greatest songs ever. I mean come on...she's a fine girl who is in love with a man who will never stay with her because his life, his lover, his lady is the sea!
When I was little I used to make up little dance routines to songs acting out the lyrics. And there are times that muscle memory tries to take over and I still want to "gather up the tears" when Steely Dan starts singing. I can usually restrain myself, but it can be really difficult at times. Like yesterday at the gym when I had to keep putting my arms back down toward my sides when I was listening to Meat Loaf.
I think song lyrics were as much an inspiration for me to want to write as books were. I am not very musically talented but I did try my hand at a song once when I was younger. I still have the line in my head and someday it will probably work its way into a story so it has someplace to go.
A well crafted lyric, whether it's a story, an image or just a fun line to say can be a wonderful thing. Lyrics can stand the test of time. Make you remember where you were when you first heard them. They can make you happy when you are sad, bring on melancholy or nostalgic feelings towards days gone by. Or just make you glad to have heard the song and gotten a chance to sing along.
Even if it's something as silly as Do Wah Diddy Diddy Dum Diddy Do....
I was reading a book yesterday about sociopaths and at the beginning of a chapter the author quoted a song lyric that has to be one of my all time favorite lyrics ever. (Yes, I am reading a book about sociopaths, it's called The Sociopath Next Door and so far it's an excellent read, nonfiction, psychology) So I get to the new chapter and there it is, "I saw a werewolf drinking a piña colada at Trader Vic's and his hair was perfect." I love that line. I love the way it feels in my mouth when I say it. I love the images it brings up in my head when I hear it.
I've blogged about music before here and again a couple of days after that here. I'm a lyric person, Brent and C are about the music itself, doesn't matter what the lyrics are as much as the overall feel of the song. For me I like the lyrics. But that doesn't mean they have to be deep or meaningful or even make sense. Sometimes it's just the way the words sound together, or the way they make you feel when you sing them that matters to me. And if there is a story as well? Bonus!
Yesterday at the gym I turned off my workout playlist and went with Bat Out of Hell. The whole album for me is just perfection. Each song is a story. The words all hang together in the best ways. It's big and bombastic and over the top and just the best thing. I have loved it since I was a little kid and I still do. I can remember writing the lyrics to Two Out of Three on my notebooks when I was in high school. I thought it was just about the most perfect song ever. And honestly, I still do. Though I discovered that it's not the best gym soundtrack because I want to belt it out with Meat on every song and I do find myself doing big over the top hand and arm gestures à la Neil Diamond and Celine Dion....
Then there are issues when I am the only one listening to lyrics and have to point out that it's a happy little song about date rape. Or killing your partner's lover when you in fact have been out cheating on them as well. Or when I ask if it's the finest silver from the South of Spain when looking at jewelry and no one else gets it. Or at least they pretend not to. Because they like to pretend that Brandy isn't one of the greatest songs ever. I mean come on...she's a fine girl who is in love with a man who will never stay with her because his life, his lover, his lady is the sea!
When I was little I used to make up little dance routines to songs acting out the lyrics. And there are times that muscle memory tries to take over and I still want to "gather up the tears" when Steely Dan starts singing. I can usually restrain myself, but it can be really difficult at times. Like yesterday at the gym when I had to keep putting my arms back down toward my sides when I was listening to Meat Loaf.
I think song lyrics were as much an inspiration for me to want to write as books were. I am not very musically talented but I did try my hand at a song once when I was younger. I still have the line in my head and someday it will probably work its way into a story so it has someplace to go.
A well crafted lyric, whether it's a story, an image or just a fun line to say can be a wonderful thing. Lyrics can stand the test of time. Make you remember where you were when you first heard them. They can make you happy when you are sad, bring on melancholy or nostalgic feelings towards days gone by. Or just make you glad to have heard the song and gotten a chance to sing along.
Even if it's something as silly as Do Wah Diddy Diddy Dum Diddy Do....
Monday, July 16, 2012
Oh the Horror!
Okay, not horror. But horo. As in scope. Horoscope. Yeah, it was a long walk for that one but I liked the title and wanted to make it fit.
Do you read your daily horoscope? Do you follow it? Do you know your sign? Do you think you fit the description? And do you think you would have fit the description if you had never read it? Like, have you changed aspects about yourself to blend more with what you view as the positive aspects of your sign?
I'm a Leo. People who are familiar with the signs of the zodiac and their descriptions who also know me are not surprised by this. Leos tend to be loud, like to be the center of attention, like to entertain, are optimistic, idealistic, curious, are fiercely loyal to their friends and are generous. There are a few things I can own on that list, not all but some. They are also described as domineering, pompous, inflexible, status conscious, vain and childish. I can own a few of those as well, again not all, but some.
But I always wonder if I were another sign would I be a different person or would I just pick things out of those lists of personality traits that would fit me? Because in any description of Leos, the negative and the positive personality attributes there are some that just don't fit me at all. Leos are supposed to be highly social. I am not. Leos are highly ambitious. Nope. Status conscious, nope. But if I were to take a different sign, let's pick a water sign since they are opposite, what could I pick out of that one that would fit me?
Here were go, Aquarius:
Challenging Traits/Keywords
Absentminded, reclusive, eccentric, perverse, fixed opinions, detached, tacky, unpredictable, temperamental, bored by detail, cold, exploitive, radical, impersonal, rebellious.
Beneficial Traits/Keywords
Broadminded, idealistic, inventive, helpful, original, intuitive, independent, tolerant, individualistic, progressive, creative, scientific, logical, humane, intellectual, altruistic.
Okay, so I am absentminded, reclusive, eccentric, detached, tacky, broadminded, idealistic, inventive, helpful, intuitive, independent, tolerant, individualistic, progressive, humane...oh holy crap! I'm an Aquarius!
Okay, so you see what I mean right? I am pretty sure I am solidly Leo because I pay attention to the Leo descriptions and horoscopes, but I can pick out as many Aquarian attributes as Leo ones that match me. So do I just think of myself as a Leo because I always have?
I also get my horoscope by email everyday. Last Monday my horoscope was all about how I was in the middle of a creative boom and to ride the wave. Well, I wrote fiction pieces for the blog Sunday, Monday and Tuesday and worked on some other pieces that I didn't post as well. Later in the week it was all about repeating the same patterns over and over again and right at that point I was thinking about exactly that sort of situation. Saturday my horoscope told me I needed to get dressed up and go out that night. Well, I went to a wedding! It's amazing isn't it?
But you see what I did there right? I only pointed out the ones that fit what was actually happening that day. I don't remember the others. I know there was one about getting out and dating again. Well, Brent would probably have issues with that one so I ignored it. I know that there was one a few weeks ago about having more children which I adapted to Grandchildren so it made more sense. But basically we notice the ones that seem to speak to us and ignore the ones that don't. So does that mean you believe in your horoscope or you don't?
I've talked before that I believe the Universe gives you signs. When you are looking for answers to questions, guidance on which way to go, I think that the world starts showing you the direction. Now I believe it partly does this through your subconscious pointing things out to you, PAY ATTENTION HERE! sort of thing. But I also do believe that sometimes something random comes along and focuses your attention on the path you are supposed to be taking. Horoscopes. Song lyrics. Street Signs.
So I checked my horoscope for today and it reads:
You may find yourself in a difficult position today, Denise, as if you are literally being pulled in two completely different directions with little say as to how things are supposed to end up. The acting forces are likely to be manipulative, and you should take special care that no one takes advantage of you in any way. The problem is that this may be easier said than done at a time like this.
OH MY GOD! That's totally right! I didn't want to go to the gym, but C did and since I told him we would work out together I really had no choice but to go with him. And at the end of it he tried to totally make it seem like it was a good thing to be exhausted and sweaty...manipulative little thing! Or it means something totally different than that (shocking I know) but it doesn't apply right this second so I will ignore it and forget about it by tomorrow.
Or in the wise words of The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel which just happened to play while I was at the gym so it was totally a sign that it should wrap this blog up....all lies and jest still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest...
Do you read your daily horoscope? Do you follow it? Do you know your sign? Do you think you fit the description? And do you think you would have fit the description if you had never read it? Like, have you changed aspects about yourself to blend more with what you view as the positive aspects of your sign?
I'm a Leo. People who are familiar with the signs of the zodiac and their descriptions who also know me are not surprised by this. Leos tend to be loud, like to be the center of attention, like to entertain, are optimistic, idealistic, curious, are fiercely loyal to their friends and are generous. There are a few things I can own on that list, not all but some. They are also described as domineering, pompous, inflexible, status conscious, vain and childish. I can own a few of those as well, again not all, but some.
But I always wonder if I were another sign would I be a different person or would I just pick things out of those lists of personality traits that would fit me? Because in any description of Leos, the negative and the positive personality attributes there are some that just don't fit me at all. Leos are supposed to be highly social. I am not. Leos are highly ambitious. Nope. Status conscious, nope. But if I were to take a different sign, let's pick a water sign since they are opposite, what could I pick out of that one that would fit me?
Here were go, Aquarius:
Challenging Traits/Keywords
Absentminded, reclusive, eccentric, perverse, fixed opinions, detached, tacky, unpredictable, temperamental, bored by detail, cold, exploitive, radical, impersonal, rebellious.
Beneficial Traits/Keywords
Broadminded, idealistic, inventive, helpful, original, intuitive, independent, tolerant, individualistic, progressive, creative, scientific, logical, humane, intellectual, altruistic.
Okay, so I am absentminded, reclusive, eccentric, detached, tacky, broadminded, idealistic, inventive, helpful, intuitive, independent, tolerant, individualistic, progressive, humane...oh holy crap! I'm an Aquarius!
Okay, so you see what I mean right? I am pretty sure I am solidly Leo because I pay attention to the Leo descriptions and horoscopes, but I can pick out as many Aquarian attributes as Leo ones that match me. So do I just think of myself as a Leo because I always have?
I also get my horoscope by email everyday. Last Monday my horoscope was all about how I was in the middle of a creative boom and to ride the wave. Well, I wrote fiction pieces for the blog Sunday, Monday and Tuesday and worked on some other pieces that I didn't post as well. Later in the week it was all about repeating the same patterns over and over again and right at that point I was thinking about exactly that sort of situation. Saturday my horoscope told me I needed to get dressed up and go out that night. Well, I went to a wedding! It's amazing isn't it?
But you see what I did there right? I only pointed out the ones that fit what was actually happening that day. I don't remember the others. I know there was one about getting out and dating again. Well, Brent would probably have issues with that one so I ignored it. I know that there was one a few weeks ago about having more children which I adapted to Grandchildren so it made more sense. But basically we notice the ones that seem to speak to us and ignore the ones that don't. So does that mean you believe in your horoscope or you don't?
I've talked before that I believe the Universe gives you signs. When you are looking for answers to questions, guidance on which way to go, I think that the world starts showing you the direction. Now I believe it partly does this through your subconscious pointing things out to you, PAY ATTENTION HERE! sort of thing. But I also do believe that sometimes something random comes along and focuses your attention on the path you are supposed to be taking. Horoscopes. Song lyrics. Street Signs.
So I checked my horoscope for today and it reads:
You may find yourself in a difficult position today, Denise, as if you are literally being pulled in two completely different directions with little say as to how things are supposed to end up. The acting forces are likely to be manipulative, and you should take special care that no one takes advantage of you in any way. The problem is that this may be easier said than done at a time like this.
OH MY GOD! That's totally right! I didn't want to go to the gym, but C did and since I told him we would work out together I really had no choice but to go with him. And at the end of it he tried to totally make it seem like it was a good thing to be exhausted and sweaty...manipulative little thing! Or it means something totally different than that (shocking I know) but it doesn't apply right this second so I will ignore it and forget about it by tomorrow.
Or in the wise words of The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel which just happened to play while I was at the gym so it was totally a sign that it should wrap this blog up....all lies and jest still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest...
Friday, July 13, 2012
Yes, I know we've talked about this before...
Today is a navel gazer of a post so you can back out slowly and I will pretend I never saw you here. It's okay...go now. I will be back this weekend with frothier posts or maybe some more fiction. Steering away from politics because I am JUST SO ANGRY right now about the WASTE OF TIME AND MONEY that continues to happen while congress does nothing but pander to their special interest groups and FYI you and I are not their special interest groups...so I will stay away from that...So anyway you get a rehash of my issues instead.
Why a rehash if I've already posted about them? Because I might have blogged about it in the past, but I haven't gotten over it yet so rehash it is!
So here we go. I was talking to a friend of mine yesterday who is in recovery for his own addictions. He has been out of touch and off the grid while he went through rehab and post rehab and is just now starting to come out to face the world. I asked if he was healthy and strong and happy and he said that he was and that he was doing really well and trying to make sure he didn't get cocky. Because cocky is what gets you in situations like that. You think you have it all under control and then you start to slip. You let in behaviors that trigger relapse. It happens. It's why addicts refer to themselves as in recovery instead of cured. Because as soon as you think you are cured you are using again.
What does this have to do with me and my navel gazing you ask? Is it that I am addicted to navel gazing? No. Well, maybe. But it's okay. I think everyone who writes is to a point and that's okay. Where this really resonated with me was from something I caught myself doing on Wednesday and then a conversation I had with Brent about it that night. See there is this woman at the gym who is there when C and I go work out no matter what day or time we work out she is there, my guess is that she's actually there all of time. Looking at her I can recognize a lot of the signs of anorexia, though my guess would be she actually is more likely to be an exercise bulimic. She has the dry, thin hair and gaunt face of an anorexic. The absolute lack of body fat. Watching her on the mountain hiker machine it's slightly fascinating for me because I can see each individual muscle bundle working. She also never works her arms on the weights, only her legs so my guess would be that she doesn't want to add any bulk to her arms but sees her lower body as a "problem".
Yes, I know I am putting a lot of supposition on this woman that I don't know at all, and she might just be extraordinarily thin with bad hair, but the real point is the one I am coming to now. Watching her work out and seeing how skinny she is (not thin, thin can be healthy, she is was well into skinny) I started wondering how much she weighs. And wondering what it would take to get there. See? Don't get cocky because it's always there. I work out at least 4 times a week, sometimes 5. I eat what I want to eat. I'm not thin but I'm not fat either. I am 20 pounds lighter than my heaviest and 20 pounds heavier than my thinnest. I would like to lose about 5 pounds but I'm not working on it right now because though I say 5 I am thinking 10, and I know I would go for 15.
When I first decided that I wanted to drop a few of the extra pounds I put on last year I went back on Weight Watchers, it's what I did to lose the weight three years ago and it really worked for me. I lost the weight I set out to, then I lost about 13 more pounds just because I could. And then I thought I would lose about 5 more just to be the weight I was on my wedding day (after having been super sick for months and not able to eat) and then I was looking at pictures from a party I was at and didn't recognize one of the people that was there...until I realized I was looking at myself. Holy shit. No wonder people kept asking if I was done losing weight. And the funny thing is when that picture was taken we had just gotten back from vacation so I had actually put on a few pounds and wasn't at my thinnest.
So after I saw that picture I went upstairs to the bathroom took off all my clothes and really looked at myself. And I didn't like what I saw so I decided to put back on some weight. And then I got to the point where I had put on more than I really wanted to so back on WW I went. But I didn't stick with it because I could see the warning signs and the bells were clanging loudly for me early. I was already down 3 1/2 pounds and I was counting the next 10 in my head...so off again. And I've been maintaining ever since then. And that was in February so it's not bad at all to have maintained.
So anyway, I was telling Brent about seeing this woman at the gym and about how my reaction had been to get to that, even knowing how unhealthy it is, even knowing that it's not even attractive, but just this desire springs up to get there. And he and I started talking about what I could and could not do. Because I can take a really healthy plan (like Weight Watchers) and bend it to my will. I can take working out and turn it into a death march. So what do you do? And being Brent he sliced it right to the core. You just have to be extra careful and healthy about it. And then the next day I had the "don't get cocky" conversation.
Which is so much easier said than done. Because the funny thing is, I really do like the way I look. I like my curves. I like myself a little too heavy more than a little too skinny. I like the fact that I have boobs and a butt. I like the fact that I have strong legs that could kick down a door bad ass style if I ever felt the need. I like that I am getting my biceps definition back after having to take it easy from my shoulder injury. I like all of those things. But I also know that voice in the back of my head is still there....that, "five more pounds, five more pounds" chant can and will start at any point in time. So I just have to be extra careful. And not get cocky. And try to not look at the skinny woman at the gym with envy.
And just because I talked about this being a rehash I thought I would post a link to a blog I wrote three years ago where I weighed pretty much what I weigh today and was having pretty much the same issue...It's also humbling to see how far I haven't come. Still working on that total self acceptance part. I guess accepting the demon skinny bitch voice in the back of my head is part of that. But can I accept that it's there and not listen to it? Understanding that the temptation will always be there, but the follow through is totally in my control. That's the next step.
And done...
Maybe I should get my belly button pierced....if I'm going to spend this much time looking at it something shiny seems appropriate.....
Why a rehash if I've already posted about them? Because I might have blogged about it in the past, but I haven't gotten over it yet so rehash it is!
So here we go. I was talking to a friend of mine yesterday who is in recovery for his own addictions. He has been out of touch and off the grid while he went through rehab and post rehab and is just now starting to come out to face the world. I asked if he was healthy and strong and happy and he said that he was and that he was doing really well and trying to make sure he didn't get cocky. Because cocky is what gets you in situations like that. You think you have it all under control and then you start to slip. You let in behaviors that trigger relapse. It happens. It's why addicts refer to themselves as in recovery instead of cured. Because as soon as you think you are cured you are using again.
What does this have to do with me and my navel gazing you ask? Is it that I am addicted to navel gazing? No. Well, maybe. But it's okay. I think everyone who writes is to a point and that's okay. Where this really resonated with me was from something I caught myself doing on Wednesday and then a conversation I had with Brent about it that night. See there is this woman at the gym who is there when C and I go work out no matter what day or time we work out she is there, my guess is that she's actually there all of time. Looking at her I can recognize a lot of the signs of anorexia, though my guess would be she actually is more likely to be an exercise bulimic. She has the dry, thin hair and gaunt face of an anorexic. The absolute lack of body fat. Watching her on the mountain hiker machine it's slightly fascinating for me because I can see each individual muscle bundle working. She also never works her arms on the weights, only her legs so my guess would be that she doesn't want to add any bulk to her arms but sees her lower body as a "problem".
Yes, I know I am putting a lot of supposition on this woman that I don't know at all, and she might just be extraordinarily thin with bad hair, but the real point is the one I am coming to now. Watching her work out and seeing how skinny she is (not thin, thin can be healthy, she is was well into skinny) I started wondering how much she weighs. And wondering what it would take to get there. See? Don't get cocky because it's always there. I work out at least 4 times a week, sometimes 5. I eat what I want to eat. I'm not thin but I'm not fat either. I am 20 pounds lighter than my heaviest and 20 pounds heavier than my thinnest. I would like to lose about 5 pounds but I'm not working on it right now because though I say 5 I am thinking 10, and I know I would go for 15.
When I first decided that I wanted to drop a few of the extra pounds I put on last year I went back on Weight Watchers, it's what I did to lose the weight three years ago and it really worked for me. I lost the weight I set out to, then I lost about 13 more pounds just because I could. And then I thought I would lose about 5 more just to be the weight I was on my wedding day (after having been super sick for months and not able to eat) and then I was looking at pictures from a party I was at and didn't recognize one of the people that was there...until I realized I was looking at myself. Holy shit. No wonder people kept asking if I was done losing weight. And the funny thing is when that picture was taken we had just gotten back from vacation so I had actually put on a few pounds and wasn't at my thinnest.
So after I saw that picture I went upstairs to the bathroom took off all my clothes and really looked at myself. And I didn't like what I saw so I decided to put back on some weight. And then I got to the point where I had put on more than I really wanted to so back on WW I went. But I didn't stick with it because I could see the warning signs and the bells were clanging loudly for me early. I was already down 3 1/2 pounds and I was counting the next 10 in my head...so off again. And I've been maintaining ever since then. And that was in February so it's not bad at all to have maintained.
So anyway, I was telling Brent about seeing this woman at the gym and about how my reaction had been to get to that, even knowing how unhealthy it is, even knowing that it's not even attractive, but just this desire springs up to get there. And he and I started talking about what I could and could not do. Because I can take a really healthy plan (like Weight Watchers) and bend it to my will. I can take working out and turn it into a death march. So what do you do? And being Brent he sliced it right to the core. You just have to be extra careful and healthy about it. And then the next day I had the "don't get cocky" conversation.
Which is so much easier said than done. Because the funny thing is, I really do like the way I look. I like my curves. I like myself a little too heavy more than a little too skinny. I like the fact that I have boobs and a butt. I like the fact that I have strong legs that could kick down a door bad ass style if I ever felt the need. I like that I am getting my biceps definition back after having to take it easy from my shoulder injury. I like all of those things. But I also know that voice in the back of my head is still there....that, "five more pounds, five more pounds" chant can and will start at any point in time. So I just have to be extra careful. And not get cocky. And try to not look at the skinny woman at the gym with envy.
And just because I talked about this being a rehash I thought I would post a link to a blog I wrote three years ago where I weighed pretty much what I weigh today and was having pretty much the same issue...It's also humbling to see how far I haven't come. Still working on that total self acceptance part. I guess accepting the demon skinny bitch voice in the back of my head is part of that. But can I accept that it's there and not listen to it? Understanding that the temptation will always be there, but the follow through is totally in my control. That's the next step.
And done...
Maybe I should get my belly button pierced....if I'm going to spend this much time looking at it something shiny seems appropriate.....
Thursday, July 12, 2012
It's a lecture, so you might want to sit down...
New findings are out today in the Penn State investigation. It seems as though everything is pointing towards Paterno knowing about the 1998 allegations when he had said that he didn't. Nike has announced it is taking his name off of one of their buildings due to this. Which is the right thing to do. And Nike was right to wait until the investigation reached this point to do it, in my opinion.
I have not made my feelings about this whole issue secret, I blogged here when it first was breaking and I blogged here when Sandusky was found guilty. I think the school was wrong in the way they handled it from the start. I think Paterno was wrong. I think the administration was wrong. And I think it was the sort of wrong that really could be called evil. But here's the thing that is bugging me right now. A lot of people are taking this opportunity to do a lot of "See? I told you so" and it bothers me.
It bothers me because the people they are "I told you so"ing are dealing with their own grief today. And we need to let them grieve. I blogged here about the same sort of issue when the world didn't end last year. I don't approve of being a jerk. And you sitting smugly in your warm safe house telling your friends who went to Penn State that the man they looked up to for years was evil and you had told them so all along is being a jerk.
Losing a hero is hard. Losing a hero because you see that they did something that was not only not heroic but just flat out wrong is even harder. And to those that now say, "This is why I don't do hero worship." To you I say, "Fuck you, stop being a smug bastard (or bitch as the case may be)" We have all had our share of hero worship in our day. Athletes, musicians, fireman, astronauts, political figures, family members...who ever it was that you looked up to. What ever field it was that you wanted to go in to and thought, "They are the best, I want to be like them." We've all done it. And to lose a hero is a hard thing.
I'm not asking you to ever feel sorry for those that knew what Sandusky did and did not stop him. I would never ask you for sympathy for Sandusky. But just stop and think about the people who knew nothing about it, who never had a chance to stop it, who it was hidden from who are also dealing with knowing that it was their hero who did part of the hiding.
End of lecture, you can carry on with your day now....
I have not made my feelings about this whole issue secret, I blogged here when it first was breaking and I blogged here when Sandusky was found guilty. I think the school was wrong in the way they handled it from the start. I think Paterno was wrong. I think the administration was wrong. And I think it was the sort of wrong that really could be called evil. But here's the thing that is bugging me right now. A lot of people are taking this opportunity to do a lot of "See? I told you so" and it bothers me.
It bothers me because the people they are "I told you so"ing are dealing with their own grief today. And we need to let them grieve. I blogged here about the same sort of issue when the world didn't end last year. I don't approve of being a jerk. And you sitting smugly in your warm safe house telling your friends who went to Penn State that the man they looked up to for years was evil and you had told them so all along is being a jerk.
Losing a hero is hard. Losing a hero because you see that they did something that was not only not heroic but just flat out wrong is even harder. And to those that now say, "This is why I don't do hero worship." To you I say, "Fuck you, stop being a smug bastard (or bitch as the case may be)" We have all had our share of hero worship in our day. Athletes, musicians, fireman, astronauts, political figures, family members...who ever it was that you looked up to. What ever field it was that you wanted to go in to and thought, "They are the best, I want to be like them." We've all done it. And to lose a hero is a hard thing.
I'm not asking you to ever feel sorry for those that knew what Sandusky did and did not stop him. I would never ask you for sympathy for Sandusky. But just stop and think about the people who knew nothing about it, who never had a chance to stop it, who it was hidden from who are also dealing with knowing that it was their hero who did part of the hiding.
End of lecture, you can carry on with your day now....
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