All posts made on May 8th, 2010...
"This is an exercise for one of my Psy classes, please indulge me as I keep a record of a Daily graditude log on facebook: Today I am grateful for the sunshine. Today I am grateful for the beautiful card from my family in Grants Pass. Today I am grateful for the potted tulips Gary gave me, thank you husband." (Posted by Anita Larsen)
"A good cup of coffee,a great Cd,and a town full of Garage sales....Does a day get any better??...We shall see:)" (Posted by Jauna Hash)
"There is no sweeter commodity than that of time." (Posted by Adrienne Stuart)
"Soccer, cheer, sun, dinner with friends, does it get any better?! :]" (Posted by Andrea Tunick)
"Can you get any better than this ???? Woooo Hoooo !!!!!!!!" (Posted by Tony Michael)
I find it eerily serendipitous when so many people are thinking alike on the same day. On this day, this was just a random spattering of thoughts from my Facebook friends, but everyone was saying the same thing - the best of the best was happening all over the country.
Everyone's best thing was a bit different, but everyone was enjoying SOMETHING. Being grateful, garage sales, soccer, sunshine, time, friends, family, who-knows-what! It just goes to show that people everywhere really do enjoy life. When you are alone in your own world, it is often hard to imagine that the things that would make you happy, make others happy too. That life is just that simple sometimes. That the little pleasures in life are things we all cherish, and regard highly, and sometimes keep us going for weeks after they've transpired.
It fills my heart to know that there are people everywhere making life happen. Going to garage sales, bringing each other flowers, watching a soccer game, having a movie night. Since moving to Las Vegas, I rarely do these kinds of things. It's not because I don't want to, it's because I have no one to do them with most of the time. I'm not so insecure as to never venture out alone, but having fun is better when shared...almost always. I look forward to the day when I meet more people here who actually want to do something besides drink and gamble. :)
Monday, May 10, 2010
Cloning
Posted on May 7, 2010 by Maggie Hadley Crook: "is thinking of cloning herself, but doesn't think she could live with the bitch!"
Well, Maggie, I know just how you feel. There are definitely a lot of days where I'd like another Me around, just so I could get more things done. But I fear this is how the day would go...
Me: Okay, Clone, you go to the grocery store, and I'll stay here and do the dishes.
Clone: Why do I have to go to the store?
Me: Because your purpose here is to do what I say, to help ME.
Clone: Well, I'm not sure I like you making all the rules.
Me: You are ME, so you are really making the rules.
Clone: Ummm...
Me: Drive safe.
Clone: I'm a great driver...you know that!
Me: Sorry, I forgot you were me.
Clone: Your mind is slipping.
Me: No, YOUR mind is slipping.
Clone: Whatev.
Me: Are you going to the store now, or what?
Clone: What do we need?
Me: There's a list.
Clone: Can I get ice cream?
Me: We don't even like ice cream.
Clone: Maybe I like it now.
Me: YOU ARE ME! WE DON'T LIKE ICE CREAM!
Clone: Geesh, ya don't have to yell.
Me: Jesus! Give me the keys, I'm going to the store.
Clone: Want me to do the dishes?
Me: Figure it out.
While I'm at the store, Clone is watching "Real Housewives" marathon reruns, chain-smoking, and making lists of chores for me to do when I get back.
Well, Maggie, I know just how you feel. There are definitely a lot of days where I'd like another Me around, just so I could get more things done. But I fear this is how the day would go...
Me: Okay, Clone, you go to the grocery store, and I'll stay here and do the dishes.
Clone: Why do I have to go to the store?
Me: Because your purpose here is to do what I say, to help ME.
Clone: Well, I'm not sure I like you making all the rules.
Me: You are ME, so you are really making the rules.
Clone: Ummm...
Me: Drive safe.
Clone: I'm a great driver...you know that!
Me: Sorry, I forgot you were me.
Clone: Your mind is slipping.
Me: No, YOUR mind is slipping.
Clone: Whatev.
Me: Are you going to the store now, or what?
Clone: What do we need?
Me: There's a list.
Clone: Can I get ice cream?
Me: We don't even like ice cream.
Clone: Maybe I like it now.
Me: YOU ARE ME! WE DON'T LIKE ICE CREAM!
Clone: Geesh, ya don't have to yell.
Me: Jesus! Give me the keys, I'm going to the store.
Clone: Want me to do the dishes?
Me: Figure it out.
While I'm at the store, Clone is watching "Real Housewives" marathon reruns, chain-smoking, and making lists of chores for me to do when I get back.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Change is Good
Posted on May 6, 2010 by Lindsay Bradbury: "Change is good...only if you are ready."
I tend to believe that change is generally good, even if you're not so ready for it. But what makes us ready, anyway? Careful preparation and weeks of planning? Lists all checked off? I suppose it depends on what it is we are changing.
If we are changing the place we live, often times weeks of planning is a pretty good idea. But what about the woman who takes her child and leaves in the middle of the night because he would kill her otherwise? It's definitely a good change, but not necessarily one that has taken a lot of planning.
If we are changing our job, looking for a new one first is definitely a good idea. But what about the man who gets laid off without notice? Might he find that in the weeks to come, his circumstances changed for the better? That he learned more about his children, more about himself, more about how to survive?
If we are changing our relationship, careful talks and willingness are for sure crucial. But what about the woman who goes out on a limb and says, "I love you" before he said it? Will it end the relationship, or make it stronger? Whichever change should happen, is likely for the best, don't you agree?
If we are changing the paint on our livingroom wall, the sheets on our bed, the kind of socks we wear, the thoughts in our head... if we are changing the lightbulbs to "green" ones, the tires on the car, the way we look, or the way we feel... isn't it probably true that on some level we are ready, already? Without the lists, the careful planning, the weeks of preparation? When things happen sometimes, forcing us to change, isn't it generally the only time it could have changed us?
The adaptability of a human being never ceases to amaze me. Whether we think we're ready for it or not, we change, we grow, we learn, we live, and we love.
I tend to believe that change is generally good, even if you're not so ready for it. But what makes us ready, anyway? Careful preparation and weeks of planning? Lists all checked off? I suppose it depends on what it is we are changing.
If we are changing the place we live, often times weeks of planning is a pretty good idea. But what about the woman who takes her child and leaves in the middle of the night because he would kill her otherwise? It's definitely a good change, but not necessarily one that has taken a lot of planning.
If we are changing our job, looking for a new one first is definitely a good idea. But what about the man who gets laid off without notice? Might he find that in the weeks to come, his circumstances changed for the better? That he learned more about his children, more about himself, more about how to survive?
If we are changing our relationship, careful talks and willingness are for sure crucial. But what about the woman who goes out on a limb and says, "I love you" before he said it? Will it end the relationship, or make it stronger? Whichever change should happen, is likely for the best, don't you agree?
If we are changing the paint on our livingroom wall, the sheets on our bed, the kind of socks we wear, the thoughts in our head... if we are changing the lightbulbs to "green" ones, the tires on the car, the way we look, or the way we feel... isn't it probably true that on some level we are ready, already? Without the lists, the careful planning, the weeks of preparation? When things happen sometimes, forcing us to change, isn't it generally the only time it could have changed us?
The adaptability of a human being never ceases to amaze me. Whether we think we're ready for it or not, we change, we grow, we learn, we live, and we love.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Nicknames
Posted on May 5, 2010 by Josh Cordell: "i don't know if there is anything better than giving someone a really great nickname... no matter how they feel about it! :-)"
I quite agree, Josh! My family is one of the most nicknamey families I've ever seen. It all started with my Grandpa. He had nicknames for almost everyone! And there are a lot of us. There's just something about getting a nickname, or giving one, that brings you a little closer to each other. It's a bond of sorts, a right of passage, a badge of friendship or love. It's often inside information, a key to a memory from long ago.
Some of my Grandpa's nicknames for us:
Me (Julie), I'm Jellybean. My Grandpa named me this shortly after I was born, I'm not sure why, but it stuck. There have been lots of variations over the years. Sometimes he shortened it to just Jelly, my brother has now morphed it into Jellybug, my cousin teasingly and meanly morphed it into something quite wicked - Jubee Squib - and no, I will NOT tell you the circumstances in which that name came about.
Aunt Karen is Tuh-Tuh. This is apparently what one of my uncles used to call her when he was a baby because he couldn't say Karen correctly. It stuck. Interestingly enough, her daughter (my cousin) Kristie, was nicknamed Tee-Tee by the young daughter of a family friend years later, for virtually the same reasons.
My Uncle Gary is Short. And he kind of is...hence the name. His brother, Harvey was, for a long time Denny, because he looked like Dennis the Menace when he was little. I didn't even know his real name was Harvey until I was in my twenties.
Uncle Gary's wife, Anita, is Taco. She's half Mexican, and that was my Grandma's nickname, so Gramps picked it up and ran with it after she died. It's really a loving name, not derogatory. But in Grandpa's style, anything that caused even little ruffles, proved hilarious to him, and so...Taco remains Taco to this day.
One of my cousins he nicknamed The Village Idiot. I'll say this, Gramps was never one to mince words.
He had lots of other nicknames for us all, sometimes we were all just Myrtle - everyone, men and women. If we put on a few pounds, we were named Skinny. If we lost those pounds, we were back to our original nicknames. Almost every one of us was named The Fish Wife at one point or another - and again, men or women. This was because Gramps owned a fish hatchery and we all helped out during the busy seasons, weighing fish and collecting money, making bamboo fishing poles, and doling out kernel corn for bait.
Everyone in our family called him Grandpa Fishie. And we still do.
I, myself, have had many, many nicknames bestowed upon me. A lot of them are because I have a stupid last name that no one can pronounce. It is Krewina. You pronounce it Crew-ee-na. Pretty simple. But my cousins used to tease me and call me Krewiener, I have an old friend who calls me Crouton to this day. Some of my friends over the years have pegged me with Cruella (maybe I was bitchy that day). Most people call me Jules, Julz, Julsie, etc... and there are variations like Hoolie and Banulie that I also love! I can't say that any of this bothers me in the slightest. When someone takes the time to give you their own pet name, it is generally an honor.
In my circle of friends I have an Eme-Puta, a Jenni-bear, a Banana, a Tracie Lou, a Garb, a Romainiac, a Patty Cake, a Marth, an L-Mick, a Megs-a-bub, a KellyBell, a Lizzer, a Sarangie, a Step-On-Me, a Pagina, and a million Sisters. As I type each one, I remember their faces, I think of a time when we were together and laughing. I smile and know that even though we are far apart, we are always close.
I quite agree, Josh! My family is one of the most nicknamey families I've ever seen. It all started with my Grandpa. He had nicknames for almost everyone! And there are a lot of us. There's just something about getting a nickname, or giving one, that brings you a little closer to each other. It's a bond of sorts, a right of passage, a badge of friendship or love. It's often inside information, a key to a memory from long ago.
Some of my Grandpa's nicknames for us:
Me (Julie), I'm Jellybean. My Grandpa named me this shortly after I was born, I'm not sure why, but it stuck. There have been lots of variations over the years. Sometimes he shortened it to just Jelly, my brother has now morphed it into Jellybug, my cousin teasingly and meanly morphed it into something quite wicked - Jubee Squib - and no, I will NOT tell you the circumstances in which that name came about.
Aunt Karen is Tuh-Tuh. This is apparently what one of my uncles used to call her when he was a baby because he couldn't say Karen correctly. It stuck. Interestingly enough, her daughter (my cousin) Kristie, was nicknamed Tee-Tee by the young daughter of a family friend years later, for virtually the same reasons.
My Uncle Gary is Short. And he kind of is...hence the name. His brother, Harvey was, for a long time Denny, because he looked like Dennis the Menace when he was little. I didn't even know his real name was Harvey until I was in my twenties.
Uncle Gary's wife, Anita, is Taco. She's half Mexican, and that was my Grandma's nickname, so Gramps picked it up and ran with it after she died. It's really a loving name, not derogatory. But in Grandpa's style, anything that caused even little ruffles, proved hilarious to him, and so...Taco remains Taco to this day.
One of my cousins he nicknamed The Village Idiot. I'll say this, Gramps was never one to mince words.
He had lots of other nicknames for us all, sometimes we were all just Myrtle - everyone, men and women. If we put on a few pounds, we were named Skinny. If we lost those pounds, we were back to our original nicknames. Almost every one of us was named The Fish Wife at one point or another - and again, men or women. This was because Gramps owned a fish hatchery and we all helped out during the busy seasons, weighing fish and collecting money, making bamboo fishing poles, and doling out kernel corn for bait.
Everyone in our family called him Grandpa Fishie. And we still do.
I, myself, have had many, many nicknames bestowed upon me. A lot of them are because I have a stupid last name that no one can pronounce. It is Krewina. You pronounce it Crew-ee-na. Pretty simple. But my cousins used to tease me and call me Krewiener, I have an old friend who calls me Crouton to this day. Some of my friends over the years have pegged me with Cruella (maybe I was bitchy that day). Most people call me Jules, Julz, Julsie, etc... and there are variations like Hoolie and Banulie that I also love! I can't say that any of this bothers me in the slightest. When someone takes the time to give you their own pet name, it is generally an honor.
In my circle of friends I have an Eme-Puta, a Jenni-bear, a Banana, a Tracie Lou, a Garb, a Romainiac, a Patty Cake, a Marth, an L-Mick, a Megs-a-bub, a KellyBell, a Lizzer, a Sarangie, a Step-On-Me, a Pagina, and a million Sisters. As I type each one, I remember their faces, I think of a time when we were together and laughing. I smile and know that even though we are far apart, we are always close.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
A New Bike
Posted on May 4, 2010 by Suzanne Silvonen: "i really, really, really want a new bike!!! ugh!!!!"
Hahahaha, I think the last time I said this, I was maybe 6 years old! Suzanne is actually a very athletic person, always posting updates about running marathons and working out. I commend her! If only I was so motivated...
Let's take a trip back in time, shall we? When I was 6 years old, in first grade, I wanted a bike so bad I could taste it. Some of my friends not only had bikes, but had bikes with no training wheels. I had a bike, a little piece of shit, with training wheels that rattled their plastic nonsense all around the playground's asphalt. Mocking me. I wanted a REAL bike, a big girl bike. And I wanted to ride it without restraint, with the wind blowing in my hair, like the big kids.
Lo and behold, for my 7th birthday, I got a real bike. My cousin Nikki was the only brave soul who would embark on the challenge of teaching me to ride it. It was summer and I lived across the street from my school, so we had a huge open playground in which to perfect my new-found big-kidness. Nikki's method of teaching me to ride a bike was, to say the least, a little mean. I think I remember her saying something like "don't be a pussy, just go for it." And I wanted to. It was so scary, climbing on that real bike, wobbling to and fro, wanting so bad to just get it right. I fell and fell and fell. And Nikki just told me to get up, try again, and don't be scared. At one point, after giving me a push, she ran away and hid. And I rode that bike. If Lance Armstrong would have been known at that point, I could have rivaled him on any bike...at least for about 20 feet, until I fell again. When I got up and looked around to celebrate with Nikki, she was gone. I yelled for her, and she yelled back from her hiding place, "good job goober, do it again!" I was shaking. I was angry. I was determined. I didn't need her anyway. I got on that bike, gave myself a little shove with my foot, and pedaled like my legs were on fire. I rode, and rode, and rode, in big circles all around that playground. I heard Nikki yelling, saw her waving her arms out of the corner of my eye, turned to look at her, and almost ran into the monkey bars. But I didn't. I corrected myself, wobbled a little, and pedaled on, all the way back to where she was jumping and flailing about. She had to reach out and grab me to help me stop - we hadn't really gotten to that part yet, and otherwise I'd have been in a big heap on the ground, bloody and broken for sure.
Nikki taught me to ride a bike. My first real bike. She actually gave me a hug in the end and told me she was proud of me. We high-fived until our hands turned red. We danced around a lot, and did some cartwheels. She knew what I needed - independence - and she gave it to me. Or, she got bored and wanted to sit inside the big tractor tire on the playground and pick her nose. I don't know. But what I do know is that it is one of my favorite memories with her. I think, a time we both learned something...about life, about freedom, and about each other. And I wouldn't give it back for a million new bikes. Or a million dollars. Thanks, Nikki.
Hahahaha, I think the last time I said this, I was maybe 6 years old! Suzanne is actually a very athletic person, always posting updates about running marathons and working out. I commend her! If only I was so motivated...
Let's take a trip back in time, shall we? When I was 6 years old, in first grade, I wanted a bike so bad I could taste it. Some of my friends not only had bikes, but had bikes with no training wheels. I had a bike, a little piece of shit, with training wheels that rattled their plastic nonsense all around the playground's asphalt. Mocking me. I wanted a REAL bike, a big girl bike. And I wanted to ride it without restraint, with the wind blowing in my hair, like the big kids.
Lo and behold, for my 7th birthday, I got a real bike. My cousin Nikki was the only brave soul who would embark on the challenge of teaching me to ride it. It was summer and I lived across the street from my school, so we had a huge open playground in which to perfect my new-found big-kidness. Nikki's method of teaching me to ride a bike was, to say the least, a little mean. I think I remember her saying something like "don't be a pussy, just go for it." And I wanted to. It was so scary, climbing on that real bike, wobbling to and fro, wanting so bad to just get it right. I fell and fell and fell. And Nikki just told me to get up, try again, and don't be scared. At one point, after giving me a push, she ran away and hid. And I rode that bike. If Lance Armstrong would have been known at that point, I could have rivaled him on any bike...at least for about 20 feet, until I fell again. When I got up and looked around to celebrate with Nikki, she was gone. I yelled for her, and she yelled back from her hiding place, "good job goober, do it again!" I was shaking. I was angry. I was determined. I didn't need her anyway. I got on that bike, gave myself a little shove with my foot, and pedaled like my legs were on fire. I rode, and rode, and rode, in big circles all around that playground. I heard Nikki yelling, saw her waving her arms out of the corner of my eye, turned to look at her, and almost ran into the monkey bars. But I didn't. I corrected myself, wobbled a little, and pedaled on, all the way back to where she was jumping and flailing about. She had to reach out and grab me to help me stop - we hadn't really gotten to that part yet, and otherwise I'd have been in a big heap on the ground, bloody and broken for sure.
Nikki taught me to ride a bike. My first real bike. She actually gave me a hug in the end and told me she was proud of me. We high-fived until our hands turned red. We danced around a lot, and did some cartwheels. She knew what I needed - independence - and she gave it to me. Or, she got bored and wanted to sit inside the big tractor tire on the playground and pick her nose. I don't know. But what I do know is that it is one of my favorite memories with her. I think, a time we both learned something...about life, about freedom, and about each other. And I wouldn't give it back for a million new bikes. Or a million dollars. Thanks, Nikki.
To Work, or Not to Work...
Posted on May 3, 2010 by Jay Pedro: "monday is the zit on your forehead before the big dance, of the week."
Posted on May 3, 2010 by Christopher Nipper: "first day being unemployed in quite a while...yep, this sucks."
These two posts, from literally opposite ends of the country, obviously say a lot about our economic status these days. One complains about work, the other laments about no work. In fact, I see this every single day. Someone is always complaining about their job at one of the places I work. As do I. I kick myself every time I whine about the state of my workplace, and the job I do there, or how much it seems the owners don't care about their employees. I am employed. And there are many not as fortunate as that.
But when did it become the status quo to just work? And work for people who don't care about you any more than they care about a mere piece of trash? People that throw the common worker away because they can, because it makes the numbers look better, or the equation equal out?
In this city I live in, the world's adult playground, the capital of sin, Las Vegas, everyone is disposable, transient, replaceable. There is no job security. And the people who run things know this fact all too well. They know they have the power to feed a family, or send them to the welfare line. But, I doubt they ever think of it on that personal of a level, because if they did, they wouldn't use such reckless abandon when making these decisions. Or maybe they would.
The reality of our world today is that there are not enough jobs for the people who want, or need to work them. A lot of good, hard workers - with families - are left to beg borrow and steal just to survive. Some of us are fortunate enough to have some stability in employment. A lot more of us are not. Companies are becoming stricter and stricter about who they hire. There are sometimes thousands of applicants for one or two openings. Competition and qualification are the highest rungs of the ladder. And everyone is fighting. To win, to survive, to eat.
Chris, I truly feel for you during this time in your life. I hope you will soon find work and be able to breathe a little easier.
Jay, get your head out of your ass. You have a great job, and dealing with its stresses is something you'd rather have than dealing with the look on your childrens' faces when you can't feed them.
Posted on May 3, 2010 by Christopher Nipper: "first day being unemployed in quite a while...yep, this sucks."
These two posts, from literally opposite ends of the country, obviously say a lot about our economic status these days. One complains about work, the other laments about no work. In fact, I see this every single day. Someone is always complaining about their job at one of the places I work. As do I. I kick myself every time I whine about the state of my workplace, and the job I do there, or how much it seems the owners don't care about their employees. I am employed. And there are many not as fortunate as that.
But when did it become the status quo to just work? And work for people who don't care about you any more than they care about a mere piece of trash? People that throw the common worker away because they can, because it makes the numbers look better, or the equation equal out?
In this city I live in, the world's adult playground, the capital of sin, Las Vegas, everyone is disposable, transient, replaceable. There is no job security. And the people who run things know this fact all too well. They know they have the power to feed a family, or send them to the welfare line. But, I doubt they ever think of it on that personal of a level, because if they did, they wouldn't use such reckless abandon when making these decisions. Or maybe they would.
The reality of our world today is that there are not enough jobs for the people who want, or need to work them. A lot of good, hard workers - with families - are left to beg borrow and steal just to survive. Some of us are fortunate enough to have some stability in employment. A lot more of us are not. Companies are becoming stricter and stricter about who they hire. There are sometimes thousands of applicants for one or two openings. Competition and qualification are the highest rungs of the ladder. And everyone is fighting. To win, to survive, to eat.
Chris, I truly feel for you during this time in your life. I hope you will soon find work and be able to breathe a little easier.
Jay, get your head out of your ass. You have a great job, and dealing with its stresses is something you'd rather have than dealing with the look on your childrens' faces when you can't feed them.
Destined for Greatness
Posted on May 2, 2010 by Maggie Hadley Crook: "I'm pretty much destined for greatness. I'm just pacing myself so I don't freak you out."
Thanks, Maggie. But I already knew that about you, so hurry up and get to your greatness!
Seriously, though, even if this post is supposed to be funny, there's a lot of truth to it. A lot of people hold back their greatness because of the ones they love. Mothers forget their passions because being a Mom is more important, or so they say. Fathers take jobs they hate, and work them 12 hours a day because they need to support the family. Sons and daughters go to schools or jobs their parents want them to go to, so they can become what their parents didn't.
People hold off on their own greatness, their own passions, their own dreams because they don't want to freak their loved ones out, so to speak. They don't want to ruffle feathers, make waves, or be selfish. But is it entirely selfless to live a life for someone else? To embark on someone else's dreams and adventures? To abandon all inner peace in order to satisfy another person's soul? How selfless do you become, when all at once your actions speak louder than words...you start to have regrets, remorse, resentment? You yell instead of hug. You're too tired to do anything but watch t.v. and go to bed. You feel stuck in your life, a life you didn't choose, a life that strangles you. And you start to hate. And you start to covet. And you start to keep little things for yourself, because it's all you have to call your own. And you start to lie. Or drink too much. Or even worse, just stop talking, loving, hoping, changing, and feeling.
What sometimes, or a lot of times, people miss is that in order to truly be selfless, you must be happy within yourself. You must give to yourself what you want, what you dream of. Or at least try. Your children or mothers and fathers will be much happier in the end if you are passionate, open, and live an honest life. The greatness you achieve, and I promise you this, will forever change the people around you. There's no getting around that. But there is no fear to be had, because the people who mean the most will thank you for it, in some way, forever.
Thanks, Maggie. But I already knew that about you, so hurry up and get to your greatness!
Seriously, though, even if this post is supposed to be funny, there's a lot of truth to it. A lot of people hold back their greatness because of the ones they love. Mothers forget their passions because being a Mom is more important, or so they say. Fathers take jobs they hate, and work them 12 hours a day because they need to support the family. Sons and daughters go to schools or jobs their parents want them to go to, so they can become what their parents didn't.
People hold off on their own greatness, their own passions, their own dreams because they don't want to freak their loved ones out, so to speak. They don't want to ruffle feathers, make waves, or be selfish. But is it entirely selfless to live a life for someone else? To embark on someone else's dreams and adventures? To abandon all inner peace in order to satisfy another person's soul? How selfless do you become, when all at once your actions speak louder than words...you start to have regrets, remorse, resentment? You yell instead of hug. You're too tired to do anything but watch t.v. and go to bed. You feel stuck in your life, a life you didn't choose, a life that strangles you. And you start to hate. And you start to covet. And you start to keep little things for yourself, because it's all you have to call your own. And you start to lie. Or drink too much. Or even worse, just stop talking, loving, hoping, changing, and feeling.
What sometimes, or a lot of times, people miss is that in order to truly be selfless, you must be happy within yourself. You must give to yourself what you want, what you dream of. Or at least try. Your children or mothers and fathers will be much happier in the end if you are passionate, open, and live an honest life. The greatness you achieve, and I promise you this, will forever change the people around you. There's no getting around that. But there is no fear to be had, because the people who mean the most will thank you for it, in some way, forever.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Contemplating Karma
Posted on April 30, 2010 by Katie Redden: "is contemplating karma."
It's a tricky thing, that karma. Sometimes I wish I had an actual chart so I could know where I stand in the karma ranks. I'm sure I've racked up some good karma along the way, but I KNOW I've brought on some bad karma too. So, where do we begin?
This week on Facebook, I called a Christian woman out on some hypocritical bullshit. Bad karma? You decide... A week prior, I noticed she became a fan of a page that in a "joking" way, wished for President Obama's death. After apparently getting some backlash from someone else, she apologized for the action. But then...and here's what pissed me off...she became a fan of a page called 1,000,000 Christians praying for President Obama. What? Really? First you want him dead, then someone doesn't like you for it, then you decide it's time to pray....for him. I'd say it's time to pray for your own stupid self than for him. Ok, so, my response was to ask if this was her way of making amends for fanning the other page, and to tell her just how hypocritical I think her actions were, and to tell her that the way I pray, everyone gets love...LOVE...not hate or ill will. LOVE. Well, she sent me a message slamming my choice to post updates about drinking and swearing, unfriended me, and told me to have a nice day. I'm just glad she didn't say she would pray for me. My only response to her was, "How very Christian of you." My real thoughts were...who the hell do you think you are, the only time you've ever commented on anything I wrote on Facebook was when you were trying to sell me something from your company, posting things about having fun is not the same as wishing someone dead, and once again, who the hell do you think you are? I think her answer would probably be...a good Christian woman. Hmmm...
So, I don't know what kind of karma that brought me, but I'm now wondering what kind of karma another friend of mine will get for one of his recent posts. Yesterday, he posted a story about how he was at McDonald's and an old man there was short about two dollars for his meal. He said in the post it was the man's first meal in two days. He said he paid for the man's meal. At the beginning of the post, he said sometimes there are angels in hiding. Hmmm....first he claims to be an angel. Second, he talks about how down-and-out this man LOOKS, and because of that, decides the man hasn't eaten for two days. I REALLY doubt, knowing this guy, that he had any sort of conversation with the old man, or really knew how long it had been since he'd eaten. But it sounded good for his story, since buying lunch for a pretty girl or teenage kid at McDonald's wouldn't have been so angelic. The kicker is, at the end of his post, he tells us all to "pay it forward". Okay, good message, but really??? Tooting your own horn because you spent maybe five bucks on a Big Mac meal for some random guy kinda defeats the purpose, no?
Honestly, I can't count the times in my life where I've wished someone dead. Because there are none. And I can't count the times where I've helped someone I didn't know because I could afford it (or sometimes couldn't). Because there are too many. I'm pretty sure this is the case for most people. I don't deem myself special, and certainly NOT an angel. And I don't think I need to tell everyone every detail about it. Actually, I think it's best kept close to my heart, a sort of secret karma tally for myself. Something to feel good about without screaming it from the rooftops. Something to just do, when need crosses my path. Like a reflex.
So, there you have it...karma via Facebook. What do YOU think?
It's a tricky thing, that karma. Sometimes I wish I had an actual chart so I could know where I stand in the karma ranks. I'm sure I've racked up some good karma along the way, but I KNOW I've brought on some bad karma too. So, where do we begin?
This week on Facebook, I called a Christian woman out on some hypocritical bullshit. Bad karma? You decide... A week prior, I noticed she became a fan of a page that in a "joking" way, wished for President Obama's death. After apparently getting some backlash from someone else, she apologized for the action. But then...and here's what pissed me off...she became a fan of a page called 1,000,000 Christians praying for President Obama. What? Really? First you want him dead, then someone doesn't like you for it, then you decide it's time to pray....for him. I'd say it's time to pray for your own stupid self than for him. Ok, so, my response was to ask if this was her way of making amends for fanning the other page, and to tell her just how hypocritical I think her actions were, and to tell her that the way I pray, everyone gets love...LOVE...not hate or ill will. LOVE. Well, she sent me a message slamming my choice to post updates about drinking and swearing, unfriended me, and told me to have a nice day. I'm just glad she didn't say she would pray for me. My only response to her was, "How very Christian of you." My real thoughts were...who the hell do you think you are, the only time you've ever commented on anything I wrote on Facebook was when you were trying to sell me something from your company, posting things about having fun is not the same as wishing someone dead, and once again, who the hell do you think you are? I think her answer would probably be...a good Christian woman. Hmmm...
So, I don't know what kind of karma that brought me, but I'm now wondering what kind of karma another friend of mine will get for one of his recent posts. Yesterday, he posted a story about how he was at McDonald's and an old man there was short about two dollars for his meal. He said in the post it was the man's first meal in two days. He said he paid for the man's meal. At the beginning of the post, he said sometimes there are angels in hiding. Hmmm....first he claims to be an angel. Second, he talks about how down-and-out this man LOOKS, and because of that, decides the man hasn't eaten for two days. I REALLY doubt, knowing this guy, that he had any sort of conversation with the old man, or really knew how long it had been since he'd eaten. But it sounded good for his story, since buying lunch for a pretty girl or teenage kid at McDonald's wouldn't have been so angelic. The kicker is, at the end of his post, he tells us all to "pay it forward". Okay, good message, but really??? Tooting your own horn because you spent maybe five bucks on a Big Mac meal for some random guy kinda defeats the purpose, no?
Honestly, I can't count the times in my life where I've wished someone dead. Because there are none. And I can't count the times where I've helped someone I didn't know because I could afford it (or sometimes couldn't). Because there are too many. I'm pretty sure this is the case for most people. I don't deem myself special, and certainly NOT an angel. And I don't think I need to tell everyone every detail about it. Actually, I think it's best kept close to my heart, a sort of secret karma tally for myself. Something to feel good about without screaming it from the rooftops. Something to just do, when need crosses my path. Like a reflex.
So, there you have it...karma via Facebook. What do YOU think?
Friday, April 30, 2010
Positive Flow
Posted on April 29, 2010 by Tammy Daniel Coles: "thinks that I need to get my mind in a positive flow tonight."
I'm right there with ya, Tammy! It's funny, because even though I know exactly how to keep myself in a positive mindframe, I don't always do it. I am a firm believer in "there has to be a down to have an up, rain to make things shine, and heartache to be able to fully appreciate true love". And I think the only people who truly stay happy all the time are either totally mental, or fully medicated, or both.
A good cry, a day or two of sorrow, a morning of mourning....these are all things we need every so often, just to remind us how much better we feel when we are enjoying life. But, there is often a fine line, one I have personally walked several times, between a day or two of sorrow and a year or so of depression.
I guess the key to everything in life comes down to balance. This is no new, earth-shattering revelation I'm making here. It's just a simple truth, but one we tend to forget from time to time. One that seems so easy some days, and impossible other days. Keeping balance, of everything, can be tricky....time for friends, time for family, time for self, money in, money out, laundry clean, dishes dirty, love gained, love lost, goals made, goals met, happiness kept, sadness kept at bay.
I suppose all we can really do is, well, our best. Every day. Whether that means being loaded with happiness so much so that we sleep with a smile, or just barely keeping ourselves from the pit of despair. Our best IS good enough.
I'm right there with ya, Tammy! It's funny, because even though I know exactly how to keep myself in a positive mindframe, I don't always do it. I am a firm believer in "there has to be a down to have an up, rain to make things shine, and heartache to be able to fully appreciate true love". And I think the only people who truly stay happy all the time are either totally mental, or fully medicated, or both.
A good cry, a day or two of sorrow, a morning of mourning....these are all things we need every so often, just to remind us how much better we feel when we are enjoying life. But, there is often a fine line, one I have personally walked several times, between a day or two of sorrow and a year or so of depression.
I guess the key to everything in life comes down to balance. This is no new, earth-shattering revelation I'm making here. It's just a simple truth, but one we tend to forget from time to time. One that seems so easy some days, and impossible other days. Keeping balance, of everything, can be tricky....time for friends, time for family, time for self, money in, money out, laundry clean, dishes dirty, love gained, love lost, goals made, goals met, happiness kept, sadness kept at bay.
I suppose all we can really do is, well, our best. Every day. Whether that means being loaded with happiness so much so that we sleep with a smile, or just barely keeping ourselves from the pit of despair. Our best IS good enough.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
An Institution
Posted on April 28, 2010 by Adrienne Stuart: "'Marriage is a fine institution; but I'm not ready for an institution yet.' -- Mae West"
I've thought a lot about marraige throughout the entirety of my life. Most of us, as little girls, dream of the time we get married, and how wonderful it will be. With almost every man I have encountered intimately, or relationship-wise, one of the first thoughts that crosses my mind is, "could I see myself marrying him?". Now, I don't know if every woman does this, or if it's just me and my crazy brain, or if I've just wanted to be married for so long that it's a smart thought, so I think it.
I was told about a year and a half ago by a man I was dating that he wanted to be with me forEVER. That he loved me and wanted me to be the mother of his children, and once again, love me FOREVER. Wow. This was huge for me, a first, really. I had felt this way about other people, but this is the first time someone had said it to me. Nonetheless, it was all a lie, and we broke up a few months later. Cest la vie, I guess.
Anyway, I think about this Mae West quote and what comes to mind is how crazy I feel, and likely act, when I think marraige might be an imminent possibility. If I imagine it, believe it to be a real possibility, I tend to obsess over it a bit. If we get married, will I care how his breath smells in the morning? Will he be sweet and bring me coffee? Is he faithful, strong, handy, considerate? Will we have children, and agree on how to raise them? Will that bump on his ear still be cute, or will it turn into a grand annoyance? Can I make love to this person, and only this person...FOREVER?? Will our sex be adventurous, but not too kinky? Will I find him one night on the computer, surfing internet porn? How long is it before I can pee with the door open? Or what if I fart in front of him? Will he still love me tomorrow?
So, I figure the mere idea of marraige sort of puts me in a state of madness. One might even suggest counseling or, perhaps, a padded room for me. Well, then, maybe I AM ready for marraige, after all.
I've thought a lot about marraige throughout the entirety of my life. Most of us, as little girls, dream of the time we get married, and how wonderful it will be. With almost every man I have encountered intimately, or relationship-wise, one of the first thoughts that crosses my mind is, "could I see myself marrying him?". Now, I don't know if every woman does this, or if it's just me and my crazy brain, or if I've just wanted to be married for so long that it's a smart thought, so I think it.
I was told about a year and a half ago by a man I was dating that he wanted to be with me forEVER. That he loved me and wanted me to be the mother of his children, and once again, love me FOREVER. Wow. This was huge for me, a first, really. I had felt this way about other people, but this is the first time someone had said it to me. Nonetheless, it was all a lie, and we broke up a few months later. Cest la vie, I guess.
Anyway, I think about this Mae West quote and what comes to mind is how crazy I feel, and likely act, when I think marraige might be an imminent possibility. If I imagine it, believe it to be a real possibility, I tend to obsess over it a bit. If we get married, will I care how his breath smells in the morning? Will he be sweet and bring me coffee? Is he faithful, strong, handy, considerate? Will we have children, and agree on how to raise them? Will that bump on his ear still be cute, or will it turn into a grand annoyance? Can I make love to this person, and only this person...FOREVER?? Will our sex be adventurous, but not too kinky? Will I find him one night on the computer, surfing internet porn? How long is it before I can pee with the door open? Or what if I fart in front of him? Will he still love me tomorrow?
So, I figure the mere idea of marraige sort of puts me in a state of madness. One might even suggest counseling or, perhaps, a padded room for me. Well, then, maybe I AM ready for marraige, after all.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Selfish
Posted April 27, 2010 by Michael Miller: "why oh why are some people so selfish?"
Good question, Mike. I really have no answer for you, just a lot more questions. Why do people take your heart and smash it like a bug because they know they can? How can someone who claims they care about you, just be mean, plain mean? Why is it that the more we give of ourselves, the more some people take, take, take? Who do they think they are? My new word for depression is selfishness. Blaming your rude, thoughtless actions on the fact that you are depressed is bullshit nonsense fuckery. Oh yeah, and why is it that when we are so forgiving and loving that it seems others act even more monstrous? Why do they try and make US apologize for their rotten behavior, like it's OUR fault?
Why can't we just be loved? Why can't we just be enjoyed, encouraged, smiled at? Why can't we just be cared for, cared about, and wanted? Why can't it just be easy for once?
Good question, Mike. I really have no answer for you, just a lot more questions. Why do people take your heart and smash it like a bug because they know they can? How can someone who claims they care about you, just be mean, plain mean? Why is it that the more we give of ourselves, the more some people take, take, take? Who do they think they are? My new word for depression is selfishness. Blaming your rude, thoughtless actions on the fact that you are depressed is bullshit nonsense fuckery. Oh yeah, and why is it that when we are so forgiving and loving that it seems others act even more monstrous? Why do they try and make US apologize for their rotten behavior, like it's OUR fault?
Why can't we just be loved? Why can't we just be enjoyed, encouraged, smiled at? Why can't we just be cared for, cared about, and wanted? Why can't it just be easy for once?
Think, Think, Thinking
Posted on April 26, 2010 by Karen King Hedges: "has lots of things on her mind and plans to bring them all to fruition!! Motivated and focused!!!"
I am blessed and cursed with a mind that constantly thinks, thinks, thinks. About my life, my family's lives, my friend's lives, things I want to do, things I want to be, things that can make me money, when I'm going to find love, when I'm going to feel better, what I want to do for business, when my bills are due, how many dishes I can fit in the dishwasher for maximum efficiency, how to give back to my community, how to feed my soul, who to trust, who to love, HOW to love, how to be a good friend, when to say goodbye, who I miss that has died, how to stay positive, how to create a fulfilling routine, how to stay in touch with people I love, how to remember people I've lost, which stores have the things I like on sale, which coupons I can use before they expire, what to do when someone is just blatantly mean to me, how to heal my heart after it breaks, when I'm going to have a family, when I'm going to get a book deal, what I'm going to cook for dinner, how much my apartment costs, what I need to get at the store, what work is going to be like tonight, why I still have stuffed animals, that I need to get some cold medicine soon, that I want to go home and see my Mommy, that I could sure use a hug right about now, how lonely Las Vegas is most of the time, how many times I have been hurt by people I love, that I need to buy new socks and underwear and a headlight and a tail light for my car, that this month is going to be the biggest financial struggle I've had for a long time, that I'm hoping my car will make it through another year, that I wish I could buy a real house, that I wish my tax refund was in the mail today, the fact that I now have like ten blogs set up and need to write more often, hoping that my neck stops hurting and the blisters on my feet go away soon, wishing that the snap of my fingers would clean my house like it did on Mary Poppins, missing my Mom A LOT, and that all I want to do is stop thinking. About what's on t.v., where is Jimmy Hoffa buried, who is Roger Rabbit, which one of these things doesn't belong, what is the letter of the day, how do you like me now, who's on first, what's the meaning of life, is it evolution or creation, why do we drive on a parkway and park on a driveway, why aren't we supposed to sweat the small stuff if it's the little things that count, who put the ram in the ram-a-lam-a-ding-dong?
I am blessed and cursed with a mind that constantly thinks, thinks, thinks. About my life, my family's lives, my friend's lives, things I want to do, things I want to be, things that can make me money, when I'm going to find love, when I'm going to feel better, what I want to do for business, when my bills are due, how many dishes I can fit in the dishwasher for maximum efficiency, how to give back to my community, how to feed my soul, who to trust, who to love, HOW to love, how to be a good friend, when to say goodbye, who I miss that has died, how to stay positive, how to create a fulfilling routine, how to stay in touch with people I love, how to remember people I've lost, which stores have the things I like on sale, which coupons I can use before they expire, what to do when someone is just blatantly mean to me, how to heal my heart after it breaks, when I'm going to have a family, when I'm going to get a book deal, what I'm going to cook for dinner, how much my apartment costs, what I need to get at the store, what work is going to be like tonight, why I still have stuffed animals, that I need to get some cold medicine soon, that I want to go home and see my Mommy, that I could sure use a hug right about now, how lonely Las Vegas is most of the time, how many times I have been hurt by people I love, that I need to buy new socks and underwear and a headlight and a tail light for my car, that this month is going to be the biggest financial struggle I've had for a long time, that I'm hoping my car will make it through another year, that I wish I could buy a real house, that I wish my tax refund was in the mail today, the fact that I now have like ten blogs set up and need to write more often, hoping that my neck stops hurting and the blisters on my feet go away soon, wishing that the snap of my fingers would clean my house like it did on Mary Poppins, missing my Mom A LOT, and that all I want to do is stop thinking. About what's on t.v., where is Jimmy Hoffa buried, who is Roger Rabbit, which one of these things doesn't belong, what is the letter of the day, how do you like me now, who's on first, what's the meaning of life, is it evolution or creation, why do we drive on a parkway and park on a driveway, why aren't we supposed to sweat the small stuff if it's the little things that count, who put the ram in the ram-a-lam-a-ding-dong?
Monday, April 26, 2010
Do Not Impose
Posted on April 25, 2010 by Mark Andrix: "Do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire..............."
This post by Mark makes me think of a very specific time in my life. When I was a child, up to about the age of 14, a lot of my family imposed upon me their ideas of what I should do with my life. In the youngest years of my life, I thought this was great. Everyone looked upon me as "the helper", the "creative one", the "smart one". They wanted me to become an artist, a baker, a writer, a crafter of fun, useful things. They wanted me to sell things because I was good at it. They wanted me to build things, because I could see a thing built before it actually was, and then make it so, quickly and correctly.
The pressure of this kind of expectation from an entire family broke my spirit at the age of 15, and I resented them, I resented my own talents, I rebelled against it all. I abandoned all art, craft, and creativity. I acted dumb, spoke like a thug, made stupid decisions on purpose. I wanted to prove them all wrong, so that I could have a little piece of mind. So that I could just be ME. So that everyone would finally see that I wasn't the answer to our age-old family question, "Who's going to get rich and take care of us all when we're old?"
In my life now, at the age of 32, all I really want is to write things, bake things, create and build things. Use and exploit my own talents for money, self-fulfillment, happiness, contentment. This is my dream. Not theirs. but somehow, they wanted it for me before I knew I wanted it. Somehow their pressure was founded, not imposed. They don't want to write, or bake, or create and build things. They want ME to, because it's what I want, and it makes me happy.
Like most families, I suppose, mine is a great big mixture of emotions, memories, thoughts, fights, parties, and hopes. The love and support we show each other has really never waivered - even through some very roller-coastery times. And sometimes, when I really think about it, I realize how lucky I am to have their expectations hanging over my head. Though at times, they hang like a huge dark cloud, other times they hang like a mobile of rainbows, jingling a soft harmony that lulls me to sleep with a smile on my face.
This post by Mark makes me think of a very specific time in my life. When I was a child, up to about the age of 14, a lot of my family imposed upon me their ideas of what I should do with my life. In the youngest years of my life, I thought this was great. Everyone looked upon me as "the helper", the "creative one", the "smart one". They wanted me to become an artist, a baker, a writer, a crafter of fun, useful things. They wanted me to sell things because I was good at it. They wanted me to build things, because I could see a thing built before it actually was, and then make it so, quickly and correctly.
The pressure of this kind of expectation from an entire family broke my spirit at the age of 15, and I resented them, I resented my own talents, I rebelled against it all. I abandoned all art, craft, and creativity. I acted dumb, spoke like a thug, made stupid decisions on purpose. I wanted to prove them all wrong, so that I could have a little piece of mind. So that I could just be ME. So that everyone would finally see that I wasn't the answer to our age-old family question, "Who's going to get rich and take care of us all when we're old?"
In my life now, at the age of 32, all I really want is to write things, bake things, create and build things. Use and exploit my own talents for money, self-fulfillment, happiness, contentment. This is my dream. Not theirs. but somehow, they wanted it for me before I knew I wanted it. Somehow their pressure was founded, not imposed. They don't want to write, or bake, or create and build things. They want ME to, because it's what I want, and it makes me happy.
Like most families, I suppose, mine is a great big mixture of emotions, memories, thoughts, fights, parties, and hopes. The love and support we show each other has really never waivered - even through some very roller-coastery times. And sometimes, when I really think about it, I realize how lucky I am to have their expectations hanging over my head. Though at times, they hang like a huge dark cloud, other times they hang like a mobile of rainbows, jingling a soft harmony that lulls me to sleep with a smile on my face.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
A Spider in the Toilet
Posted on April 24, 2010 by Allison Kelly: "I put a spider in the toilet an hour ago. Now I'm afraid to go to the bathroom. I don't want it to bite my butt."
Seriously, Allison, I can't count how many times I've probably done and said this same thing! Too funny! But, on a deeper level, it started to make me think about life a little. I know, I know, what?!?!?!
But hear me out...as ridiculous as the idea of a washed away spider crawling its way back up the toilet and biting your butt might sound, such are the ludicrous thoughts we sometimes harbor about letting go of something that might come back and haunt us.
If I take this job, instead of the one that makes more money, will I regret it? If I let a lover go, will I want him back after it's too late? If I move to a new city, will I be so lonely that I won't succeed? If I say goodbye to a friendship, will I miss out?
The entire act of seeing a spider, freaking out a little, finding a tissue, racing to the toilet, and flushing it down while watching to make sure it REALLY goes down, takes approximately one minute, maybe less. The thoughts that cross our minds after the deed is done can consume an entire evening. Will it come back and bite my butt? Should I have put it outside? How important are spiders to the planet, or my house? Maybe I should have just squished it until it's guts popped out, then I KNOW it couldn't have come back to bite my butt. Shit, it's just a damn spider, what am I worried about? There will always be another spider....and maybe I'll let it outside next time....maybe. But I don't LIKE spiders. I don't need spiders. I don't care about spiders, until they are in my house where they don't belong. So, there. Away with you spider. But...
Sometimes in life we grab a tissue, scoop up an issue, and flush it away without even thinking about the repercussions. After the fact, an obsession often ensues. Until sometimes, we even get out the plunger to try and suck the dead thing all the way from the sewer and back into our lives, if only to squish it's guts out, kill it again. Or at least to make a more thought-out decision this time.
Seriously, Allison, I can't count how many times I've probably done and said this same thing! Too funny! But, on a deeper level, it started to make me think about life a little. I know, I know, what?!?!?!
But hear me out...as ridiculous as the idea of a washed away spider crawling its way back up the toilet and biting your butt might sound, such are the ludicrous thoughts we sometimes harbor about letting go of something that might come back and haunt us.
If I take this job, instead of the one that makes more money, will I regret it? If I let a lover go, will I want him back after it's too late? If I move to a new city, will I be so lonely that I won't succeed? If I say goodbye to a friendship, will I miss out?
The entire act of seeing a spider, freaking out a little, finding a tissue, racing to the toilet, and flushing it down while watching to make sure it REALLY goes down, takes approximately one minute, maybe less. The thoughts that cross our minds after the deed is done can consume an entire evening. Will it come back and bite my butt? Should I have put it outside? How important are spiders to the planet, or my house? Maybe I should have just squished it until it's guts popped out, then I KNOW it couldn't have come back to bite my butt. Shit, it's just a damn spider, what am I worried about? There will always be another spider....and maybe I'll let it outside next time....maybe. But I don't LIKE spiders. I don't need spiders. I don't care about spiders, until they are in my house where they don't belong. So, there. Away with you spider. But...
Sometimes in life we grab a tissue, scoop up an issue, and flush it away without even thinking about the repercussions. After the fact, an obsession often ensues. Until sometimes, we even get out the plunger to try and suck the dead thing all the way from the sewer and back into our lives, if only to squish it's guts out, kill it again. Or at least to make a more thought-out decision this time.
Friday, April 23, 2010
The Right People
Posted on April 23, 2010 by Tony Michael: "The right people come together at the right time, for the right reasons, to do the right things, right when they are supposed to."
Let me just say first, Tony Michael is a quote machine. So, I'm sure this won't be the only post I use his words in. And this one, I happen to agree with.
At some points in my life, it seems I missed the proverbial boat. Or, at least that's how I felt at the time. I would arrive or leave somewhere, missing some sort of contact or excitement. I always felt like things were just a little bit off, and that I was being left out of the equation somehow. But now I realize that, where I am now, who I am now, creates the circumstances of my life. When I want something, I think about it, ask for it, and it happens.
There are a lot of people that have come in and gone out of my life over the years for one reason or another. And for the most part, their presence in my life has been for the better. People have helped me, I have helped people, and we have, at times, helped the world...together.
Though I do believe that we don't always know the actual reasons, there ALWAYS is a reason people connect. ALWAYS. There is a design to it all, albeit sometimes it's an ever-changing design, but it's there. And we are fated to meet, love, live, create happiness and success and enlightenment for each other.
Let me just say first, Tony Michael is a quote machine. So, I'm sure this won't be the only post I use his words in. And this one, I happen to agree with.
At some points in my life, it seems I missed the proverbial boat. Or, at least that's how I felt at the time. I would arrive or leave somewhere, missing some sort of contact or excitement. I always felt like things were just a little bit off, and that I was being left out of the equation somehow. But now I realize that, where I am now, who I am now, creates the circumstances of my life. When I want something, I think about it, ask for it, and it happens.
There are a lot of people that have come in and gone out of my life over the years for one reason or another. And for the most part, their presence in my life has been for the better. People have helped me, I have helped people, and we have, at times, helped the world...together.
Though I do believe that we don't always know the actual reasons, there ALWAYS is a reason people connect. ALWAYS. There is a design to it all, albeit sometimes it's an ever-changing design, but it's there. And we are fated to meet, love, live, create happiness and success and enlightenment for each other.
Funny Kids
Posted on April 22, 2010 by Erin Muntinga Wolfe: "Cory just said to me 'Mom...what are we going to do if when Karsen gets a little bit bigger she starts to speak spanish and we can't understand her?' He is so funny sometimes!"
Ahhhh, kids! This is precisely why I want to have a big family. Yes, Bill Cosby, kids DO say the darndest things. I look forward to the day when I can post baby pictures, stories, and mishaps about my children on Facebook. It's a sort of string, connected to my soul, pulling at me these days. Except the string is a 5-foot wide strand of twine, and the thing pulling it seems to be the size of a semi-truck. I want a baby. Or five. Right now.
I want to see in their little faces some part of me. I want to pick them up and swing them around, and make them giggle. I want to teach them how to be good people, to be intelligent and happy and funny. I want to love, love, love them until their little hearts explode love all over the place.
And maybe I'll even teach them Spanish...
Ahhhh, kids! This is precisely why I want to have a big family. Yes, Bill Cosby, kids DO say the darndest things. I look forward to the day when I can post baby pictures, stories, and mishaps about my children on Facebook. It's a sort of string, connected to my soul, pulling at me these days. Except the string is a 5-foot wide strand of twine, and the thing pulling it seems to be the size of a semi-truck. I want a baby. Or five. Right now.
I want to see in their little faces some part of me. I want to pick them up and swing them around, and make them giggle. I want to teach them how to be good people, to be intelligent and happy and funny. I want to love, love, love them until their little hearts explode love all over the place.
And maybe I'll even teach them Spanish...
Back in Time
Posted on April 21, 2010 by Lacee Jordan: "love that dreams can take you back in time...."
I love that too, Lacee. But this morning I'm thinking how dreams might also be able to show us the future. I had a dream just before waking this morning, about a man I have feelings for. I haven't seen him in a really long time, something like 14 years. We have been talking, texting, messaging, what-not for several months now, and I'm anxious to see him in person again. I dreamt that we met up at a cafe of sorts, and greeted each other with a hug and a half-kiss. You know, the kind of kiss where you're not sure if you're gonna go for it, or kiss on the cheek, and something in-between happens? Awkward. The next thing that happened was worse. He sat on the other side of this sort of open bar thing, and attempted to have a conversation with me. But he was so far away, and I wanted him closer. I wanted to touch him, kiss him, laugh with him, but I could barely even hear him. It was unsettling, to say the least. And then I woke up.
The question is now, is this a harbinger of a future event, or merely anxiety about not being able to see him now, and wanting to? I suppose only time will tell.
I love that too, Lacee. But this morning I'm thinking how dreams might also be able to show us the future. I had a dream just before waking this morning, about a man I have feelings for. I haven't seen him in a really long time, something like 14 years. We have been talking, texting, messaging, what-not for several months now, and I'm anxious to see him in person again. I dreamt that we met up at a cafe of sorts, and greeted each other with a hug and a half-kiss. You know, the kind of kiss where you're not sure if you're gonna go for it, or kiss on the cheek, and something in-between happens? Awkward. The next thing that happened was worse. He sat on the other side of this sort of open bar thing, and attempted to have a conversation with me. But he was so far away, and I wanted him closer. I wanted to touch him, kiss him, laugh with him, but I could barely even hear him. It was unsettling, to say the least. And then I woke up.
The question is now, is this a harbinger of a future event, or merely anxiety about not being able to see him now, and wanting to? I suppose only time will tell.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Just Let Go
Posted on April 20, 2010 by Cory Buckley to Jonny Dickson's wall: "Some people believe that holding on and hanging in there are signs of strength, but there are times in life when it takes much strength to just let go."
I don't know the context of this post exactly, but I don't need to know it either. This sentiment is, I believe, one of the most all-encompassing jewels of logic there ever was, or will be.
I think about what letting go means, and why, at times, it is the most frightening, anxiety-ridden possibility we face. To a lot of people, letting go means forgetting. Forgetting someone we love or loved once. Forgetting our hopes. Forgetting what makes us who we really are. But, letting go can be quite the opposite. It can be a revival of our spirit, an acceptance of our mistakes, a respect for our selves and the decisions we must make.
The proof's in the pudding, or so they say, about when exactly it's time to hold on or let go. For each of us, for each particular situation, that knowledge comes upon us differently. Sometimes it takes a friend to tell you it's time. Sometimes there's just a twinge in our soul that won't let us move left or right until we release it. Sometimes, we just forget for a little while, and when we remember again, we realize we must have started to let go already.
But the catch is....we decide.....always. No one can tell us to let go. No one can make us do it. We decide. When we're ready.
I don't know the context of this post exactly, but I don't need to know it either. This sentiment is, I believe, one of the most all-encompassing jewels of logic there ever was, or will be.
I think about what letting go means, and why, at times, it is the most frightening, anxiety-ridden possibility we face. To a lot of people, letting go means forgetting. Forgetting someone we love or loved once. Forgetting our hopes. Forgetting what makes us who we really are. But, letting go can be quite the opposite. It can be a revival of our spirit, an acceptance of our mistakes, a respect for our selves and the decisions we must make.
The proof's in the pudding, or so they say, about when exactly it's time to hold on or let go. For each of us, for each particular situation, that knowledge comes upon us differently. Sometimes it takes a friend to tell you it's time. Sometimes there's just a twinge in our soul that won't let us move left or right until we release it. Sometimes, we just forget for a little while, and when we remember again, we realize we must have started to let go already.
But the catch is....we decide.....always. No one can tell us to let go. No one can make us do it. We decide. When we're ready.
The Beauty of Dreams
Posted on April 19th, 2010 by Shiloh DeWolf Pyne: "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams". -- Eleanor Roosevelt
There are many people among my Facebook friends list who often post uplifting quotes about life. This one I really liked. It very well could have said "The future belongs to those who believe in their dreams". But "the beauty of their dreams" is so much more believable to me.
Everyone has a dream. Some people dream of being the best parents, or the most skilled carpenter. Some dream of being a published writer/author. There are dreams of innumerable types because there are billions of people on this planet who all hold a different perspective, and different ideas about their lives. Some people are actually living thier dreams right at this very moment. But what I think gets lost a lot of the time is the BEAUTY of not only having a dream, but working for it, and then actually achieving it - if only to have another dream take its place.
The beauty is in the process, the lessons learned, the people met along the way. The beauty is in the reward of achieving something you may have once felt it impossible to achieve. The beauty is having faith in yourself no matter what the obstacle. And the beauty is also knowing that if you feel like it, you can change your dreams, because they are YOURS.
There are many people among my Facebook friends list who often post uplifting quotes about life. This one I really liked. It very well could have said "The future belongs to those who believe in their dreams". But "the beauty of their dreams" is so much more believable to me.
Everyone has a dream. Some people dream of being the best parents, or the most skilled carpenter. Some dream of being a published writer/author. There are dreams of innumerable types because there are billions of people on this planet who all hold a different perspective, and different ideas about their lives. Some people are actually living thier dreams right at this very moment. But what I think gets lost a lot of the time is the BEAUTY of not only having a dream, but working for it, and then actually achieving it - if only to have another dream take its place.
The beauty is in the process, the lessons learned, the people met along the way. The beauty is in the reward of achieving something you may have once felt it impossible to achieve. The beauty is having faith in yourself no matter what the obstacle. And the beauty is also knowing that if you feel like it, you can change your dreams, because they are YOURS.
The Status Book
For a long time, I've been wanting to write a book of sorts about either the lists people make, the texts people send and receive, or some compilation of snippets from peoples' individual lives. I've decided on Facebook status updates as my inspiration. There is so much we share, and so much we don't share via Facebook. I have friends from way back that I went to school with, friends from work and play all througout my life, new friends, old friends, somewere-in-between friends. It is a VERY random spattering of people. These people are often my collective "muse". I draw insight, inspiration, courage, and even anger from their short status updates. I see life, or what they want me to see about their lives. I make plans, gain prospective, wonder about things I never thought of before. I laugh out loud quite often, staring at the home page of my Facebook. Once in a while, I cry too.
So, this "book" is dedicated to all of my current, future, and past Facebook friends. Without you, none of this would be possible. Keep updating your status, and keep living your life, and sharing it with the rest of us. No matter what you think, your words, and your lives are making an impact on the world...or at least my world. Thank you.
What's on YOUR mind?
So, this "book" is dedicated to all of my current, future, and past Facebook friends. Without you, none of this would be possible. Keep updating your status, and keep living your life, and sharing it with the rest of us. No matter what you think, your words, and your lives are making an impact on the world...or at least my world. Thank you.
What's on YOUR mind?
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