I haven't been here for a while. It's for the best reason. I've been living. I try to fight against the whole writing more when I'm sad cliche, but I admit, I've been running around in happy land and jotting down a private smile here and there--but not here.
But now it's the last day of the year, and that calls for some public reflection--or at least some acknowledgement of this place, eh?
I have such vivid memories of last New Years Eve--the choices that were taken away from me by mr. pickpocket and the choices I made afterward. The night is a perfect snapshot of what 2012 would become--my year of choosing and my year of learning.
I remember that as we drove South the next morning, he asked me if I'd made any resolutions for the year. I didn't have a great answer at the time. The thing is, I think it was an entire year of resolution--and revolution. I've found a place to live where I'm constantly resolving--evolving. But that place coexists with the beautiful peace I found, too.
If you'd been looking into my window this year, it would look like not much has really changed. I can tell those who really know me, though. Because they can see how eventful this one was for me--inside out. In 2012, I was reignited. I am light again. The path was often ugly. But standing here at the end, looking back, almost all of it finally makes sense. And I have this wonderful feeling that sometimes eludes us adults. I have that first day of rehearsal excitement about the coming year. I can't even see that path yet. But I know I'm going to make it the best one. I have everything I need to get everything I want. I have myself. I have my people. I have fire. And that is all I need.
My heart is very full today as I let go of this year and get ready to welcome the next one--with a big, cheesy hug. I feel very lucky, very grateful, and now very eager to make 2013 shine as brightly as I'm smiling.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Wouldn't you?!
While watching the Bears game today, I got a text from Badass mentioning how good the Bears looked. I texted back, expressing how happy I was about that very fact. He said I must be extra happy that his team, a Bears rival, had lost. At this point, I had just gotten into my car and heard that with 4 seconds left in the game, his team had tied it up and gone into OT. Confused, I texted back--
Me: Did you turn off the TV too soon? I heard they were in OT.
B: Oh shit. You're right!
Me: And you were gonna give up... :)
B: Wouldn't you?!
Me: I always watch till the end. I'm an optimist, remember?
B: Of course you are!
His team won a few minutes later, and as I got out of my car and started to walk home, I started laughing to myself. Sure, we were talking about football, but I couldn't help but see a bigger metaphor.
There really are two types of people in this world--those who turn off the TV, and those who hold out hope until the buzzer sounds. The pessimist. The optimist. I'm not saying anything about my dear Badass. And I'm not saying one is right or wrong or better or worse. It was just a reminder to me that with "4 seconds left," I never think it's over. I need to remember that about myself. Sometimes, I need to remember that's a wonderful part of me--it makes a beam of light, and it makes me tenacious. And sometimes, I need to remember that it makes it very hard to let go, move on, and, G-d forbid, give up.
Hours later, I was getting back to my place again, and my phone beeped. Badass's phone had re-sent me a message: "Wouldn't you?!" I smiled. I felt like the world wanted me to hold on to that thought, ask myself that question one more time. Wouldn't you? Wouldn't you give up? Wouldn't you turn of the metaphoric TV?
No. I wouldn't.
Then I thought, maybe the world wants me to pass this valuable question on to all of you. I think we can all benefit from knowing these things about ourselves, eh? So I'll just simply leave it here as a question to think about, to reflect on, to learn from. So:
When you're down by 3, and you've got 4 seconds on the clock, would you believe you can do it?
(I hope so...)
Me: Did you turn off the TV too soon? I heard they were in OT.
B: Oh shit. You're right!
Me: And you were gonna give up... :)
B: Wouldn't you?!
Me: I always watch till the end. I'm an optimist, remember?
B: Of course you are!
His team won a few minutes later, and as I got out of my car and started to walk home, I started laughing to myself. Sure, we were talking about football, but I couldn't help but see a bigger metaphor.
There really are two types of people in this world--those who turn off the TV, and those who hold out hope until the buzzer sounds. The pessimist. The optimist. I'm not saying anything about my dear Badass. And I'm not saying one is right or wrong or better or worse. It was just a reminder to me that with "4 seconds left," I never think it's over. I need to remember that about myself. Sometimes, I need to remember that's a wonderful part of me--it makes a beam of light, and it makes me tenacious. And sometimes, I need to remember that it makes it very hard to let go, move on, and, G-d forbid, give up.
Hours later, I was getting back to my place again, and my phone beeped. Badass's phone had re-sent me a message: "Wouldn't you?!" I smiled. I felt like the world wanted me to hold on to that thought, ask myself that question one more time. Wouldn't you? Wouldn't you give up? Wouldn't you turn of the metaphoric TV?
No. I wouldn't.
Then I thought, maybe the world wants me to pass this valuable question on to all of you. I think we can all benefit from knowing these things about ourselves, eh? So I'll just simply leave it here as a question to think about, to reflect on, to learn from. So:
When you're down by 3, and you've got 4 seconds on the clock, would you believe you can do it?
(I hope so...)
Monday, August 13, 2012
Adventures on Beacon...
Two weeks ago, I came down
with this awful cough/laryngitis thing, and since I didn't have too many
commitments, I was able to dedicate a couple days to resting my body and my
voice. The first day, I didn't talk all day... until I took Blitz out for his
afternoon walk and myself to Baker & Nosh to pick up some lunch. When you
live in the friendliest neighborhood, it's difficult... Well--Blitz draws a
certain amount of attention pretty much all the time. So as usual, we had to
stop and talk about him a few times. And then I got to the Nosh, and Dr.
Barista was working. I call her this because whenever I walk in, she takes a
serious look at me and asks, "What do you need today?" Not what do I
want, but what do I need based on the day. She sees me fresh out of bed or
post-audition and lots of times in between, and she really does serve my needs
with a drink or some food and her caring heart. I bought myself lunch plus a comfort
brownie and continued on.
A day or two later, Blitz
and I were on our bedtime walk. Suddenly, the bang of a firework broke the
silence. I looked up the street to see a man standing on his balcony firing a
sort of bottle rocket gun thing. He fired about 10 shots, readjusted his aim so
the sparks arched over the street a bit further, fired a few more, and as soon
as the last one was finished, he casually walked back into his apartment. There
were three police cars on the street within the next couple of minutes. A few
other late night strollers and I gave them the scoop, and that was that.
A day of two later, Blitz
and I found ourselves on another seemingly normal bedtime walk. Then a car
stopped in the middle of the street. I could hear a dog barking inside. Two men
got out, and I heard one say something, but I was coughing up a storm and
trying to just finish the walk and get inside to go to sleep. Then I heard him:
Ballsy Dude: Oh, so I guess
not then.
Me: Oh, what did you say?
BD: I asked if I could take
you out sometime...
Me: Oh, I didn't hear you.
Um, I'm not really looking right now, but have a good night.
(Walking toward me and
extending his hand.)
BD: Oh, well I thought it
would be fun. I'm (he said his name, but I was only half listening), by the
way. What's your name?
(I shake his hand.)
Me: xxxxx. Look, I'm kind of
sick, so I'm just gonna go walk the dog.
BD: So, can I take you out
sometime?
(I assess the situation. I
have a huge dog at my side. It's 11:15pm, and this guy just approached me. I
feel pretty awful. But I have a realization.)
Me: You know, usually guys
roll down their window and yell something disgusting, so thanks for not doing
that. I'll put your number in my phone.
(Maybe I'll never call him.
But I like to think of this as a gold star for being both ballsy and respectful
and treating me like a person rather than an object. Maybe I'm a bitch for
leading him on, but in the moment, I thought it would make him feel good. And I
really doubt he's sitting by he phone.)
Hey, can you spell your name
for me?
BD: xxxxxxx. Call me if you
ever want to do anything.
(Really, Larry Life?
Standing right where I was standing? Sorry, Buddy. But you've got the wrong
name.)
Me: Will do.
A day or two later, I took
Blitz for his evening walk, and we ran into three greyhound owners who walk
their dogs together. The dogs sniffed, and we chatted--just a typical stroll
through friendly town. After a bit, Blitz and I continued up the street. This
woman came out of Badass and Tex's building, and her dog and Blitz started
sniffing each other. I looked at the basket of vegetables she was carrying:
Me: Those are beautiful! Did
you grow them?
Garden Lady: They're from my
mom's garden. I have way too much. Please take a tomato.
Me: Are you sure?
GL: Oh yes. I can't eat it
all. In fact, please take a cucumber, too. Make a salad!
Seriously. This is where I
live. Then Blitz and I got back to the yard where we visited with one of the
neighbors and his dogs. And the neighbor reminded me to please pick from his
herb box while making this salad. Who needs Whole Foods? And as long as I have
Blitz, I guess I don't have to look too hard to find new friends.
Speaking of friends, that
same night, I dropped off two of mine who had come over for the evening. When I
got back, I parked the car, and Blitz and I were walking toward home again. We
came upon what appeared to be a whole family walking together--a mom pushing a
stroller, a boy dribbling a basketball. Granted, this was at 11pm. But they were
just walking and talking. Of course, they took one look at Blitz, started
asking questions, and we chatted a bit. Eventually, Blitz and I picked up the
pace and passed them up. The mom called after me:
Ma: You single, sweetie?
Me: Oh, I've got my big boy
right here (giving Blitz a pat).
Ma: You don't need a big
boy. I bet you need a grown ass man!
Amen, lady. Amen.
The next day, I was standing
outside in the rain about to go to work, trying to add oil to my car so that I
could make it to work. Of course, the oil cap was stuck. I was standing there
summoning my muscles, when this guy in a shirt and tie on his cell phone yelled
to me, “Hey, I like your jersey.”
Me: Thanks. Go Bears!
Shirt and Tie Guy: Actually,
I don’t really like the Bears. I was just trying to flirt with you.
Me: Well, if you want, you
can help me get my oil cap off…
(SATG comes over, still
talking on his cell, and after almost giving up himself, finally gets the cap
to budge. I thank him, and he continues down the street. After I’m done and
just cleaning up, I see him walking by again.)
SATG: By the way, you know
what you’re doing, right?
Me: Yes I do. All done.
(SATG continues on.)
Last night, I was walking
Blitz at 1am, and when we were just about home, I saw this woman a little
younger than me looking a little lost. I asked her if she needed help, and she
launched into this story about meeting up with this guy, but he wasn’t picking
up his phone… She didn’t know what to do. She had driven down from the burbs,
and she was super uncomfortable standing out on the street. So I stood with her
for a little bit, and we talked. After about 10 minutes, I started to walk her
back up to Lawrence, toward her car. I had just finished giving her my man advice
of the week: It should be easy. It shouldn’t be texts and complications and
doubt and waiting on a street corner. It should be happy and full of mutual
effort, rendering it effortless. It was the first night I’d spoken those words
out loud and actually believed them, found peace with them. Of course her phone
rang right at that moment. The guy’s reception had been bad, and there he was
to meet her. We parted ways having exchanged our contact information, and I
continued home, still firmly believing in what I’d told her.
I slept in today, and I
finally managed to get Blitz and I out the door for his walk. It was raining,
just slightly. Halfway back home, a car horn. A grin.
Father Time. Larry Life. My
heart.
Another too big coincidence
to try to make sense of. Stirred me.
The moments too fast to
process. Thoughts racing. Then stifled. Stuck.
Small talk.
Paw prints on a shirt to
match your eyes. I brush at them as if my hands could dry them, and somewhere
underneath, I’m registering muscle under cotton. Muscle memories?
And then another ellipses...
Leaves me a storm of pieces
vs. peaces.
The rain. My brain. My
heart.
I remember the first time I saw it. It was late. I made a
right turn, and I suddenly found myself in this dark sea of wrought iron and
trees and quiet. It took my breath away. Like its residents, Beacon is a
complex street, and I've always found it to be full of dualities. It’s quiet,
but the nature makes me itch. It’s a little sketchy, a little yuppy…
You know how there are some moments of your life that just
pass and some that are somehow stamped in your brain? Moments that are
strangely memorable (and why those moments)? Or moments that are memorable
because they are just a little weird or hard to believe? Moments like these
make life seem so magical to me. And if that's the case, Beacon has been such a
magical little roller coaster. So many big things have happened here. Granted,
it's been a big year. But I've been running away to Beacon Street for a long
time. And if I really think about it, no matter where the roller coaster was at
that moment, Beacon has always provided some sort of happy serenity to me.
Sure, sometimes I think moving here was the worst idea I’ve ever had. But then
I look around, and I find so much peace here. So this place is full of
dualities, but it's so full of feeling. And sometimes feeling is what feels
like home... or action... I'm not sure… of anything really except I've been
sure the adventure will continue.
But Beacon Club is dissolving. Badass is away (again).
And Tex and L are leaving. And A, L, & Lola are leaving. That's Blitz's
favorite lady dog. Who will he play with? Who will I play with? I'm getting all
sentimental wondering if we're reaching the end of our of magic trick here or
the end of our roller coaster--I can't keep my metaphors straight. I'm just
very thoughtful today. I've come to expect so much from this place--the
dualities of action and peace. This is the place everything changed. And this
is the place I started over. I could say both of those sentences about a dozen different
times, and it would be true. So now the characters are changing, and I don't
like it. But the character of the street remains, and so I'll let the lake wind
carry me to whatever happens next... on Beacon Street.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Time Signatures...
Last night, there was some magic. Some evolution of music and heart.
I sat in the same seat at the same bar and listened to the same songs sung by the same voice. The song she dedicated to me when she knew I needed it. The song I claimed as my theme song one month. A song that used to hit too close to home. It was like my musical life of the past six months flashing before my eyes. But the songs finally felt different. They made me smile and laugh and remember and roll my eyes and 'Amen' and beam some sort of empowerment.
Music is magical already. It makes us feel, sometimes even catching us by surprise. It buries its self deep within our sense memories. I've written a lot lately about how listening to music is different at different emotional life points. And last night, there it was. Sure, there were a few of those surprises... and still a few things that now hit even closer to home. I felt those moments. And I embraced them. Because the pit in my stomach apparently has this new iron lining, and I heard everything through a filter of strength. Relating to 100 sad songs does not make me sad; it makes me real.
That was the music. And then there were the people. And the thoughts. I like to play this game that goes: "If this shit hadn't happened, then this wouldn't have happened, and then this wonderful thing never would have happened." It tends to bring me this incredible peace about the ups and downs of that thing called life. I wasn't intending to play last night. But then I looked more closely at the two beautiful people next to me. I smiled to myself--to think, I met them in that dark kitchen at 3am. Ha.
And there it was: If I hadn't gotten robbed, I wouldn't have run there that night.
(I would have played it cool, and I wouldn't have been invited to.)
Sure, I might know them very casually. But not like this. She has been such a source of strength and peace and instant, unconditional friendship. And it's all because a man reached into my pocket because he saw me send a text to the friend whose place I was going to about the number of pigeons on the el platform.
My mind did all this wandering under the music last night, and I found myself feeling grateful for the man who robbed me and led me to that kitchen.
I think my new favorite game is "If I never get anything else out of _____, at least I got _______." So--if I never get anything else out of (it), I got these two dear friends who even show up to gigs. And I got an album. And you know what? When life is this beautiful, I honestly don't understand how anyone can think less optimistically than that. Why let a drop roll down your cheek when you can let it roll off your back?
I sat in the same seat at the same bar and listened to the same songs sung by the same voice. The song she dedicated to me when she knew I needed it. The song I claimed as my theme song one month. A song that used to hit too close to home. It was like my musical life of the past six months flashing before my eyes. But the songs finally felt different. They made me smile and laugh and remember and roll my eyes and 'Amen' and beam some sort of empowerment.
Music is magical already. It makes us feel, sometimes even catching us by surprise. It buries its self deep within our sense memories. I've written a lot lately about how listening to music is different at different emotional life points. And last night, there it was. Sure, there were a few of those surprises... and still a few things that now hit even closer to home. I felt those moments. And I embraced them. Because the pit in my stomach apparently has this new iron lining, and I heard everything through a filter of strength. Relating to 100 sad songs does not make me sad; it makes me real.
That was the music. And then there were the people. And the thoughts. I like to play this game that goes: "If this shit hadn't happened, then this wouldn't have happened, and then this wonderful thing never would have happened." It tends to bring me this incredible peace about the ups and downs of that thing called life. I wasn't intending to play last night. But then I looked more closely at the two beautiful people next to me. I smiled to myself--to think, I met them in that dark kitchen at 3am. Ha.
And there it was: If I hadn't gotten robbed, I wouldn't have run there that night.
(I would have played it cool, and I wouldn't have been invited to.)
Sure, I might know them very casually. But not like this. She has been such a source of strength and peace and instant, unconditional friendship. And it's all because a man reached into my pocket because he saw me send a text to the friend whose place I was going to about the number of pigeons on the el platform.
My mind did all this wandering under the music last night, and I found myself feeling grateful for the man who robbed me and led me to that kitchen.
I think my new favorite game is "If I never get anything else out of _____, at least I got _______." So--if I never get anything else out of (it), I got these two dear friends who even show up to gigs. And I got an album. And you know what? When life is this beautiful, I honestly don't understand how anyone can think less optimistically than that. Why let a drop roll down your cheek when you can let it roll off your back?
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Sometimes It's Enough To Just Stand...
I never did like rollercoasters. I could turn myself upside down every day--flips galore. But I never wanted some metal train to do it for me. And now my life is metal trains, and I have to wrestle the operator to the ground to press the stop button and resume flipping myself...
Rehearsal was good today. But then business was down. And on that note I loaded our things into the car. The phone rang a name I haven't seen in weeks, so I answered. I always thought only the self was capable of thinking up the worst things about us. But no. The voice told me things darker than I could ever imagine. Things that weren't true. But that's just it. The voice is just a voice. The voice doesn't have eyes, and so the voice can't see me. Really see me. See the good that everyone else sees in five minutes. See the good that can only be seen at heart level.
I reached down to where my bootstraps live, and I gave the biggest tug I've been able to muster in a while. I bared my teeth in a growl that turned smile. And just like mom said, it stuck that way. It carried me.
And for the first time since I started my Tuesday learning time, I was ruler of my body. She didn't fight me for nerves or tears. She let me lead her by the bridle. We've started down a path, and since I do what I'm told, I'll continue down it. And as I'm telling myself, I'm going to power walk.
Back in the car with my sidekick, I hummed through some of my recent compositions. So I didn't notice the entrance of Father Time, lord of traffic and parking and how long it takes my dog to sniff stuff for two blocks. And there we were, face to face with the eyes. See, if the voice can't see me, then this one must be the eyes. Because this one sees me. As I am. And gives dose after dose of wonderful just based on the vision and nothing else. But the eyes were... full of something I've never seen. The eyes see me, and I see the eyes, but because we've never been precisely eye-to-eye, I didn't know what to do... I'm not sure there was anything to do. Eyes and voices, even ears, and especially mouths all have these things happen from time to time, and it's not as ugly as they think it is. But I was a bit paralyzed. I'm probably still processing the information somewhere... deep in some corneal tissue... because yes, my eyes may be a little clouded on this one. But, here's the thing. One of my favorite and least favorite things about the eyes is that they don't always see their own reflection. It's my favorite because if they could see, they would know how beautiful they are, and then they would cease to be as beautiful. (And as they are, they are simply one of the most beautiful.) It's my least favorite because it hurts them. They tell me not to waste a second on their hurt, but that advice is futile... because yes, I'm head over corneas. I wish sometimes that they could borrow all of our eyes, take a peek in, and see what we see--so, so very much more than they think. I want to give them the gift of my eyes. I want to give them the gift of rest. The rest is coming.
I tightened the laces of my heartstrings, tied them in a bow, and continued down the street into a dark home. I could already see two shadowy figures on the ceiling. Yes, while I was gone, there had been an invasion of Evanston proportions. It was my turn to curse. Yet after all of the ups and downs, I thought it funny that once again, this one event--catching or squishing or not catching or squishing an invader--could be another part of the coaster. It turned out there were four of them--two small, one medium, and one large (or prehistoric, as we used to call it). I've heard hairspray is good for these types of things, so I tested it on a small. This resulted in a dead centipede stuck to my ceiling. There it remains. One more small I shoe smacked. One more I tried to spray--it dropped to the floor, and I stomped. Disgusting. The last was the big one--about the length of a key. It was in the corner, so I had one gym shoe shot at it. I pitched. I missed, but it dropped to the floor anyway. And unlike the trophy on my ceiling, I have no idea where this one has got to. In my nightmare, I will awake with it crawling on my face. In reality, it is probably back in the walls. In reality, too, it is disgusting. Then again, maybe I'm just using the wrong set of eyes...
On days like today, when I look at my life--angry people, endings, things that won't even begin, three jobs, one fur ball, one very active brain, more ambition than I know how to wrangle, and everything that lives beneath the surface of all that, in me... People ask me how I am, and I put a lot of stock in my answer being truthfully positive. But days like today in the context of this life are a fantastic reminder that sometimes it's enough just to be standing on my two old gymnast feet. Though I'm so proud of myself for how I tamed each metal car today, I also remember tonight that sometimes it's enough to just stand.
Rehearsal was good today. But then business was down. And on that note I loaded our things into the car. The phone rang a name I haven't seen in weeks, so I answered. I always thought only the self was capable of thinking up the worst things about us. But no. The voice told me things darker than I could ever imagine. Things that weren't true. But that's just it. The voice is just a voice. The voice doesn't have eyes, and so the voice can't see me. Really see me. See the good that everyone else sees in five minutes. See the good that can only be seen at heart level.
I reached down to where my bootstraps live, and I gave the biggest tug I've been able to muster in a while. I bared my teeth in a growl that turned smile. And just like mom said, it stuck that way. It carried me.
And for the first time since I started my Tuesday learning time, I was ruler of my body. She didn't fight me for nerves or tears. She let me lead her by the bridle. We've started down a path, and since I do what I'm told, I'll continue down it. And as I'm telling myself, I'm going to power walk.
Back in the car with my sidekick, I hummed through some of my recent compositions. So I didn't notice the entrance of Father Time, lord of traffic and parking and how long it takes my dog to sniff stuff for two blocks. And there we were, face to face with the eyes. See, if the voice can't see me, then this one must be the eyes. Because this one sees me. As I am. And gives dose after dose of wonderful just based on the vision and nothing else. But the eyes were... full of something I've never seen. The eyes see me, and I see the eyes, but because we've never been precisely eye-to-eye, I didn't know what to do... I'm not sure there was anything to do. Eyes and voices, even ears, and especially mouths all have these things happen from time to time, and it's not as ugly as they think it is. But I was a bit paralyzed. I'm probably still processing the information somewhere... deep in some corneal tissue... because yes, my eyes may be a little clouded on this one. But, here's the thing. One of my favorite and least favorite things about the eyes is that they don't always see their own reflection. It's my favorite because if they could see, they would know how beautiful they are, and then they would cease to be as beautiful. (And as they are, they are simply one of the most beautiful.) It's my least favorite because it hurts them. They tell me not to waste a second on their hurt, but that advice is futile... because yes, I'm head over corneas. I wish sometimes that they could borrow all of our eyes, take a peek in, and see what we see--so, so very much more than they think. I want to give them the gift of my eyes. I want to give them the gift of rest. The rest is coming.
I tightened the laces of my heartstrings, tied them in a bow, and continued down the street into a dark home. I could already see two shadowy figures on the ceiling. Yes, while I was gone, there had been an invasion of Evanston proportions. It was my turn to curse. Yet after all of the ups and downs, I thought it funny that once again, this one event--catching or squishing or not catching or squishing an invader--could be another part of the coaster. It turned out there were four of them--two small, one medium, and one large (or prehistoric, as we used to call it). I've heard hairspray is good for these types of things, so I tested it on a small. This resulted in a dead centipede stuck to my ceiling. There it remains. One more small I shoe smacked. One more I tried to spray--it dropped to the floor, and I stomped. Disgusting. The last was the big one--about the length of a key. It was in the corner, so I had one gym shoe shot at it. I pitched. I missed, but it dropped to the floor anyway. And unlike the trophy on my ceiling, I have no idea where this one has got to. In my nightmare, I will awake with it crawling on my face. In reality, it is probably back in the walls. In reality, too, it is disgusting. Then again, maybe I'm just using the wrong set of eyes...
On days like today, when I look at my life--angry people, endings, things that won't even begin, three jobs, one fur ball, one very active brain, more ambition than I know how to wrangle, and everything that lives beneath the surface of all that, in me... People ask me how I am, and I put a lot of stock in my answer being truthfully positive. But days like today in the context of this life are a fantastic reminder that sometimes it's enough just to be standing on my two old gymnast feet. Though I'm so proud of myself for how I tamed each metal car today, I also remember tonight that sometimes it's enough to just stand.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Independence Day...
We spent the first day of the New Year driving home along the lake.
You asked me what if any resolutions did I make.
I went home and made some.
Wish I could say I've grown some.
Now I propose a toast over a long awaited beer,
"To a better second half of this shit storm of a year."
It's bound to be better.
We'll both make it better.
She and I leave the bar and head out in the heat.
The fireworks boom as we walk down the street.
The sounds travel through me.
Reset something in me.
Boom-Gonna change,
Bang-Be much stronger,
Crack-Time to move on,
Scream-Let it go.
And the truth explodes right before your eyes,
And you find freedom,
On Independence Day.
The truth explodes right before your eyes,
And you find freedom,
On Independence Day.
I'm home again, feeling much more like myself,
Storing all that weight I carried in a box up on a shelf.
I pray that it stays there.
"Oh please just stay up there."
I stroll the street I've grown to love, basking in my new-found light,
But Father Time and Larry Life aren't done with me tonight.
I know that look.
I can't take that look.
The way you pull me in, I know you've had a pop or three,
And with one touch, I feel my grip slip slowly far away from me.
My insides well up.
Might as well give up.
Boom-I can't change,
Bang-There's my weakness,
Crack-I can't move,
Scream-Don't know how, Not quite yet, Must hold on.
And the truth explodes right before our eyes.
I've lost all freedom,
On Independence Day.
When the truth explodes right before our eyes,
We've lost all freedom,
On Independence Day.
When the truth explodes right before your eyes,
How do you find freedom,
On Independence Day?
You asked me what if any resolutions did I make.
I went home and made some.
Wish I could say I've grown some.
Now I propose a toast over a long awaited beer,
"To a better second half of this shit storm of a year."
It's bound to be better.
We'll both make it better.
She and I leave the bar and head out in the heat.
The fireworks boom as we walk down the street.
The sounds travel through me.
Reset something in me.
Boom-Gonna change,
Bang-Be much stronger,
Crack-Time to move on,
Scream-Let it go.
And the truth explodes right before your eyes,
And you find freedom,
On Independence Day.
The truth explodes right before your eyes,
And you find freedom,
On Independence Day.
I'm home again, feeling much more like myself,
Storing all that weight I carried in a box up on a shelf.
I pray that it stays there.
"Oh please just stay up there."
I stroll the street I've grown to love, basking in my new-found light,
But Father Time and Larry Life aren't done with me tonight.
I know that look.
I can't take that look.
The way you pull me in, I know you've had a pop or three,
And with one touch, I feel my grip slip slowly far away from me.
My insides well up.
Might as well give up.
Boom-I can't change,
Bang-There's my weakness,
Crack-I can't move,
Scream-Don't know how, Not quite yet, Must hold on.
And the truth explodes right before our eyes.
I've lost all freedom,
On Independence Day.
When the truth explodes right before our eyes,
We've lost all freedom,
On Independence Day.
When the truth explodes right before your eyes,
How do you find freedom,
On Independence Day?
Monday, June 18, 2012
For Lindsay with an A.
1) I've been trying to write a certain song, but it turns out someone already wrote it and put it in this beautiful show I saw tonight. Another weird coincidence, and I'm wrecked and smiling--feeling the beauty, the sadness, and the hilarity (and add a little extra hilarity that I've come to expect it).
2) I love watching someone watching someone they love on stage. It is beautiful, and it makes me so happy. More than that, I love peeking over while their love is pretending to love someone else on stage. If they are still beaming, that's when it melts my heart. I want to capture it and show it to all the pessimists.
3) But this post is really for L. She bought me a pre-show drink. She sat next to me while I laughed and cried at the same time. She marveled right along with me--and maybe laughed and cried a little, too. Then she came home with me and killed a centipede in my bathtub.
I just walked her down to Badass and Tex's, and I smiled the whole way home. She moves through life with an awareness of the world that is really special. I don't say this lightly--she is such a good person. Truly good.
2) I love watching someone watching someone they love on stage. It is beautiful, and it makes me so happy. More than that, I love peeking over while their love is pretending to love someone else on stage. If they are still beaming, that's when it melts my heart. I want to capture it and show it to all the pessimists.
3) But this post is really for L. She bought me a pre-show drink. She sat next to me while I laughed and cried at the same time. She marveled right along with me--and maybe laughed and cried a little, too. Then she came home with me and killed a centipede in my bathtub.
I just walked her down to Badass and Tex's, and I smiled the whole way home. She moves through life with an awareness of the world that is really special. I don't say this lightly--she is such a good person. Truly good.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
On Behalf of Women...
Sometimes, I'm walking down the street, and a man says something to me about my appearance, and it makes me so disgusted and angry that by the time I have my wits, it's too late to turn around and give him a piece of my mind. I'm not even talking about telling someone off--I'm talking about a few choice pieces of advice about how it won't get them too far and about how to treat or not treat women...
Anyway, thanks to the glory that is facebook, I got my chance tonight. Over the past four days, I've gotten several messages from this guy that have said "hey." And that brings us to tonight. The boy, we shall code name Craig the Perv. Perv for short. Craig the Perv because some people don't deserve anonymity.
Me (giving him the teeniest benefit of the doubt):
hi. probably not interested in whatever you want me to do.
Perv:
maybe if i paid more?
Me:
well, why don't you be less vague and tell me what it is you're paying people to do.
Perv:
i'll pay you to give me a sexy webcam show
Me:
ok craig. i hope you're ready for a dose of honesty...
Perv:
even something quick
Me:
i accepted your friend request because i saw you went to wheeling.
Perv:
never know till you ask
Me:
also, there are few things more disgusting that a man can do to a woman other than to objectify her.
that's
true. but to ask as the very first thing you say to a person is just
about the most disrespectful thing you can do. because you're treating
someone who may be amazing as a mere object.
Perv:
i attempted to talk to you before but you never responded
Me:
you said "hey"
Perv:
i also said "how's life" and never got anything
Me:
maybe that's true... but tonight you skipped right over that... no need to re-hash...
i just wanted to say this because letting it go implies that it's ok to do it.
best of luck to you, and hopefully i've given you some insight as to how gross it feels to be propositioned this way.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Doors and Windows...
Almost a year and a half ago, I posted a question on facebook.
Someone I knew answered the question, causing me to meet another person who just so happened to change my life.
One day, that person offered me their extra ticket to a show.
In the show, there was this actor. That show also changed my life.
The second person introduced me to an art form I now love, and I learn that form from the actor in the show.
A few weeks ago, a creative door closed for me, and I found myself wondering why. Then a new, more important door opened on the same night of the week I used to have the other one.
And if I hadn't come back from NY, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have worked on that project I just worked on. And I wouldn't have met another person. She wouldn't have introduced me to the thing that is going to allow me to keep doing what I'm doing--and the thing that has helped me to really think about what I want from this life.
Thinking about what I really want drove this conversation I had with the second person today... I'm hoping one day I'll be able to write that that led us both somewhere great--that there was some super why under it all...
Life works in weird circles sometimes. I have to remember that everything doesn't make sense right away, but sometimes, if you just wait a bit, the reasons are revealed.
Right now, I'm trying to be patient...
On the subject of why...
I ran into Badass the other day, and we stood talking on Beacon for a while. We were both talking about this life of running from one thing to the next and barely keeping up. He asked, "How do we do it?" I said, "We just keep going." I've thought more about this since, and I honestly think the running is part of the reason we pair off. My mom always told me that if someone says they can't live without you, it's a bright red co-dependent flag. But is our co-dependent nature all bad? See, I was thinking, and you know what makes a day of running around better? Coming home to see that someone's already made dinner. If you have a running buddy, the run doesn't seem so long... And if you have a team mate, you don't have to run the whole race yourself. And instead of admitting you have two week old asparagus in the fridge, maybe you'd want to cook again. I know this isn't the most romantic thought in the world, but maybe it's human... Watching the Tonys the other night confirmed this pairing off theory for me. Wolverine said he wouldn't be where he was without his wife. So did another. And another. And sure, maybe if you look at this from a psychological perspective, they should think they can do whatever they want all on their own. Or maybe they're just being romantic. But what I think--I think they mean it. I think it's true. I think that having someone in your life who supports your dream can change your life. If you want something, and you find someone who wants the same thing, that mutual want can be the (non-fossil) fuel that drives you to happiness.
(And that's the most comically heartbreaking part. The thing you think doesn't exist is the thing I keep in my breast pocket every day.)
Someone I knew answered the question, causing me to meet another person who just so happened to change my life.
One day, that person offered me their extra ticket to a show.
In the show, there was this actor. That show also changed my life.
The second person introduced me to an art form I now love, and I learn that form from the actor in the show.
A few weeks ago, a creative door closed for me, and I found myself wondering why. Then a new, more important door opened on the same night of the week I used to have the other one.
And if I hadn't come back from NY, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have worked on that project I just worked on. And I wouldn't have met another person. She wouldn't have introduced me to the thing that is going to allow me to keep doing what I'm doing--and the thing that has helped me to really think about what I want from this life.
Thinking about what I really want drove this conversation I had with the second person today... I'm hoping one day I'll be able to write that that led us both somewhere great--that there was some super why under it all...
Life works in weird circles sometimes. I have to remember that everything doesn't make sense right away, but sometimes, if you just wait a bit, the reasons are revealed.
Right now, I'm trying to be patient...
On the subject of why...
I ran into Badass the other day, and we stood talking on Beacon for a while. We were both talking about this life of running from one thing to the next and barely keeping up. He asked, "How do we do it?" I said, "We just keep going." I've thought more about this since, and I honestly think the running is part of the reason we pair off. My mom always told me that if someone says they can't live without you, it's a bright red co-dependent flag. But is our co-dependent nature all bad? See, I was thinking, and you know what makes a day of running around better? Coming home to see that someone's already made dinner. If you have a running buddy, the run doesn't seem so long... And if you have a team mate, you don't have to run the whole race yourself. And instead of admitting you have two week old asparagus in the fridge, maybe you'd want to cook again. I know this isn't the most romantic thought in the world, but maybe it's human... Watching the Tonys the other night confirmed this pairing off theory for me. Wolverine said he wouldn't be where he was without his wife. So did another. And another. And sure, maybe if you look at this from a psychological perspective, they should think they can do whatever they want all on their own. Or maybe they're just being romantic. But what I think--I think they mean it. I think it's true. I think that having someone in your life who supports your dream can change your life. If you want something, and you find someone who wants the same thing, that mutual want can be the (non-fossil) fuel that drives you to happiness.
(And that's the most comically heartbreaking part. The thing you think doesn't exist is the thing I keep in my breast pocket every day.)
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Robin Hood Was A Communist... or What I Learned from North Carolina and Obama.
Pick your favorite horrifying moment of (social) history. Imagine the people of that time period. Show them the the past, and they would be horrified by it. Show them the future, and they would be horrified by it. I bet this works with any point in time.
Take the Disney propaganda of WWII:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H2I7rlmefA8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FQqCeEG5hs0&skipcontrinter=1
The people who made these videos probably wouldn't be pleased with many aspects of our society today, and yet some of you probably consider them racist fucks. (I mean, did you see the generic Disney Asians? And that was acceptable then.) I have this image in my head, almost like a chart of the stars. I think of someone standing at any given point in time and judging all the other points, but what they see when they look out into "space" is all the other points in time staring back at them in judgement, too. Everything is a reflection of the time in which you live. The judgement of actions is also dependent on the time in which you live. We know that most things are relative. But there seems to be something about being in the present -- we're constantly blind to what we're doing in our own time. Or at least, we're incapable of judging it.
I've talked to some of you about this... When I saw, "The Help," I had this realization... A lot of people seeing it and talking about it saw it as a historic film, when in fact, nothing has changed since then but the group being discriminated against. Sure, each generation that has faced some sort of struggle for equality or human rights has conquered it. But the trouble is, we're unable to learn from the past (and the future) and realize that we are in the midst of doing something horrifying right now. We seen to be unaware (or at least surprised) that we're falling into our old pattern. Yesterday, a lot of people in North Carolina lost their rights, and it is painful to think we're at it again, repeating our old mistakes.
But what bothers me almost as much as this law is that it passed due to uninformed voting. Let me repeat this again: This law passed because a lot of the people who voted did not know precisely what they were voting for. From what I heard on the news, if the voters knew the law also restricted civil unions and domestic partnerships, it would not have passed.
I heard one sound bite that went something like: "The people in NC said they wanted extra protection." That sentence is sickening on its own. But try this on for size--you know how you can protect yourself? Read the entirety of what you're voting on--especially if the result is going to change the lives of the people you share this planet with.
And more than that, how in the fuck do we allow people to vote this way? I've said in recent years that I think there should be videos in each voting booth. You punch your choice, and there's a recording. It says, "You have chosen candidate A. Candidate A stands 'here' on the issues. Here's a little video by candidate A. You have chosen not to select candidate B. Here's a little bit about them. If you are still confident with your choice, press the green button to continue."
Hey, look at that. An end to uniformed voting and the needless stripping away of human rights.
I realize you all won't agree with me. I realize that the state of our country right now means that we're just about divided. 50/50... You know that scene in "Love Actually" where David (the Prime Minister) stands up to the President of the US and says that the countries are in a "bad relationship?" Well, if our country is truly divided, maybe we should treat it like a bad relationship and just separate... divide up the states like we're dividing up our things. If the reality is that we're a country of 50/50, instead of trying to force it, why not just become two happier countries?
Here's a funny thought. Our country, which we say was founded on people being equal... was actually founded by a guy who pushed another group out to make room for all this equality (equality takes up a lot of space, you know). Our founding history almost makes sense of our present day mess. From tarnished to tarnished--isn't that what they say? So let's say I wanted to secede and start a country where all people are equal and all of them are fed and stuff (I'll get to that more later). Where would I begin? Well, I suppose I could just go find the center of where all the bigots live, pretend they aren't there, and plant a flag right up their--
Anyway, all will be welcome in my new space--as long as you leave your bigots at home.
What we should do is take away the titles. We shouldn't use those Democrat and Republican words. After listening to a lot of NPR election coverage lately, it's become apparent that it's very important for opposing candidates to be completely different. The second there was common ground between a Republican candidate and Obama, the other Republican candidates were all over it. Wouldn't it make it easier to vote if candidates had the same stance on some issues and different stances on others? It just seems so contrived that they must disagree about almost everything. Wouldn't it be easier for us to come to a decision, to agree on a leader, if we could just look at a Presidential venn diagram?
The new leader of France made a comment about being able to see eye to eye with Obama on some issues, and I saw a near facebook explosion about Obama having too much in common with this Socialist. First of all, having something in common with someone does not make your entire belief system the same as theirs. And second of all, what about celebrating the fact that world leaders can connect with each other? Isn't this whole game about allies? Or dare I say peace? I heard a similarly disturbing sentiment about the US and China the other day. Someone suggested that the US is the country that's supposed to put its foot down, keep China (and everyone else for that matter) under control. Here we have this president who's trying to work with them on our relationship instead of bullying them. Maybe I'm a moron, but I thought that was a good thing.
(I'm not a moron.)
And you guys. You guys. If we're talking about what we have in common... what about our common instincts as humans? Do we have an instinct toward violence or toward compromise and problem solving? Toward selfishness and survival of the fittest or maybe toward caring for those less fortunate than ourselves? I'm not sure. But can we agree that we want everyone on Earth to have food? Can we start there? And what if we go as far as to say that just maybe, we should never again put any group in a position where they're discriminated against. And if I can go one step further, don't all humans believe we should find a way to make sure that everyone gets taken care of when they're sick?
So let's take away all the labels and just be humans together for a minute. If we can at least agree that we want to live in a county of equal rights and a place where everyone's fed, that should be the goal, and we shouldn't be so sticky about how it's done.
The thing is, people are really sticky about how its done, because, well, lots of people are afraid of Socialism. I don't claim to know much about Socialism or specifically Communism. But sometimes I hear myself talking about how I think we should just insist that everyone get fed. I mean, how can anyone alive think that it's ok for people to starve while others have so much? I admit, on one hand, if we think about it too much, how can we possibly enjoy an ice cream cone or a vacation without feeling guilty? We can't let that heaviness rule our lives. But at the same time, I really do believe that before we focus on fixing anything else in the world, it's reasonable to make sure our citizens aren't starving to death. And isn't the government the entity with the power to help us do that? That's my belief, and I think I've been told that's some form of Socialism, and some people may think I'm a crazy radical... But gosh... You know what? In that case, you know who was a total Commie? Fucking Robin Hood. That boy needs to trade in his green tights for some red ones.
Anyway, even people who are against certain political associations... don't they share those deep human beliefs with those like me who wouldn't mind if we leaned a little closer to the red light, just enough to make sure that everyone could eat, stay healthy, and be able to enjoy the same rights and freedoms as their fellow countrypeople? Or are there really humans that think some people deserve less than other people? If the former is true, and I hope it is, we should match our political actions to our human instinctual values more than our political ones. And then maybe, just maybe, we can unite.
See, here's the thing. While I honestly believe that if we can't unite, we may as well divide, my hope is of course that we can realize we all have those same basic values that will help care for everyone on this planet. Common ground is the key to everything because if we took away the titles and just looked at those instincts, I really truly believe that as humans we would be able to use the common ground to improve the world. If we didn't think we had to disagree with each other, maybe we would actually get some things done.
So... I spoke the general outline of this into my phone's video recorder on the way to the Marriott yesterday. I was really brooding about it when I got there. And then two magical things happened:
1) While talking about this in the dressing room, we all found comfort in the fact that the people of NC shot themselves in the foot a little, also taking away civil union and domestic partnership rights of straight people. So maybe they can learn their lesson a bit here?
2) Maybe I'll dedicate more writing to this part later... But most importantly, and historically, Obama swooped in to make yesterday a bold and happy day as well. My dear President stepped up to endorse equal rights and make me adore him even more than I already do. I'm still angry and upset about the state of things. I still want them to change. But there is a brave man leading our country who also wants things to be different. And that makes this day in history a little bit better.
Take the Disney propaganda of WWII:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H2I7rlmefA8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FQqCeEG5hs0&skipcontrinter=1
The people who made these videos probably wouldn't be pleased with many aspects of our society today, and yet some of you probably consider them racist fucks. (I mean, did you see the generic Disney Asians? And that was acceptable then.) I have this image in my head, almost like a chart of the stars. I think of someone standing at any given point in time and judging all the other points, but what they see when they look out into "space" is all the other points in time staring back at them in judgement, too. Everything is a reflection of the time in which you live. The judgement of actions is also dependent on the time in which you live. We know that most things are relative. But there seems to be something about being in the present -- we're constantly blind to what we're doing in our own time. Or at least, we're incapable of judging it.
I've talked to some of you about this... When I saw, "The Help," I had this realization... A lot of people seeing it and talking about it saw it as a historic film, when in fact, nothing has changed since then but the group being discriminated against. Sure, each generation that has faced some sort of struggle for equality or human rights has conquered it. But the trouble is, we're unable to learn from the past (and the future) and realize that we are in the midst of doing something horrifying right now. We seen to be unaware (or at least surprised) that we're falling into our old pattern. Yesterday, a lot of people in North Carolina lost their rights, and it is painful to think we're at it again, repeating our old mistakes.
But what bothers me almost as much as this law is that it passed due to uninformed voting. Let me repeat this again: This law passed because a lot of the people who voted did not know precisely what they were voting for. From what I heard on the news, if the voters knew the law also restricted civil unions and domestic partnerships, it would not have passed.
I heard one sound bite that went something like: "The people in NC said they wanted extra protection." That sentence is sickening on its own. But try this on for size--you know how you can protect yourself? Read the entirety of what you're voting on--especially if the result is going to change the lives of the people you share this planet with.
And more than that, how in the fuck do we allow people to vote this way? I've said in recent years that I think there should be videos in each voting booth. You punch your choice, and there's a recording. It says, "You have chosen candidate A. Candidate A stands 'here' on the issues. Here's a little video by candidate A. You have chosen not to select candidate B. Here's a little bit about them. If you are still confident with your choice, press the green button to continue."
Hey, look at that. An end to uniformed voting and the needless stripping away of human rights.
I realize you all won't agree with me. I realize that the state of our country right now means that we're just about divided. 50/50... You know that scene in "Love Actually" where David (the Prime Minister) stands up to the President of the US and says that the countries are in a "bad relationship?" Well, if our country is truly divided, maybe we should treat it like a bad relationship and just separate... divide up the states like we're dividing up our things. If the reality is that we're a country of 50/50, instead of trying to force it, why not just become two happier countries?
Here's a funny thought. Our country, which we say was founded on people being equal... was actually founded by a guy who pushed another group out to make room for all this equality (equality takes up a lot of space, you know). Our founding history almost makes sense of our present day mess. From tarnished to tarnished--isn't that what they say? So let's say I wanted to secede and start a country where all people are equal and all of them are fed and stuff (I'll get to that more later). Where would I begin? Well, I suppose I could just go find the center of where all the bigots live, pretend they aren't there, and plant a flag right up their--
Anyway, all will be welcome in my new space--as long as you leave your bigots at home.
What we should do is take away the titles. We shouldn't use those Democrat and Republican words. After listening to a lot of NPR election coverage lately, it's become apparent that it's very important for opposing candidates to be completely different. The second there was common ground between a Republican candidate and Obama, the other Republican candidates were all over it. Wouldn't it make it easier to vote if candidates had the same stance on some issues and different stances on others? It just seems so contrived that they must disagree about almost everything. Wouldn't it be easier for us to come to a decision, to agree on a leader, if we could just look at a Presidential venn diagram?
The new leader of France made a comment about being able to see eye to eye with Obama on some issues, and I saw a near facebook explosion about Obama having too much in common with this Socialist. First of all, having something in common with someone does not make your entire belief system the same as theirs. And second of all, what about celebrating the fact that world leaders can connect with each other? Isn't this whole game about allies? Or dare I say peace? I heard a similarly disturbing sentiment about the US and China the other day. Someone suggested that the US is the country that's supposed to put its foot down, keep China (and everyone else for that matter) under control. Here we have this president who's trying to work with them on our relationship instead of bullying them. Maybe I'm a moron, but I thought that was a good thing.
(I'm not a moron.)
And you guys. You guys. If we're talking about what we have in common... what about our common instincts as humans? Do we have an instinct toward violence or toward compromise and problem solving? Toward selfishness and survival of the fittest or maybe toward caring for those less fortunate than ourselves? I'm not sure. But can we agree that we want everyone on Earth to have food? Can we start there? And what if we go as far as to say that just maybe, we should never again put any group in a position where they're discriminated against. And if I can go one step further, don't all humans believe we should find a way to make sure that everyone gets taken care of when they're sick?
So let's take away all the labels and just be humans together for a minute. If we can at least agree that we want to live in a county of equal rights and a place where everyone's fed, that should be the goal, and we shouldn't be so sticky about how it's done.
The thing is, people are really sticky about how its done, because, well, lots of people are afraid of Socialism. I don't claim to know much about Socialism or specifically Communism. But sometimes I hear myself talking about how I think we should just insist that everyone get fed. I mean, how can anyone alive think that it's ok for people to starve while others have so much? I admit, on one hand, if we think about it too much, how can we possibly enjoy an ice cream cone or a vacation without feeling guilty? We can't let that heaviness rule our lives. But at the same time, I really do believe that before we focus on fixing anything else in the world, it's reasonable to make sure our citizens aren't starving to death. And isn't the government the entity with the power to help us do that? That's my belief, and I think I've been told that's some form of Socialism, and some people may think I'm a crazy radical... But gosh... You know what? In that case, you know who was a total Commie? Fucking Robin Hood. That boy needs to trade in his green tights for some red ones.
Anyway, even people who are against certain political associations... don't they share those deep human beliefs with those like me who wouldn't mind if we leaned a little closer to the red light, just enough to make sure that everyone could eat, stay healthy, and be able to enjoy the same rights and freedoms as their fellow countrypeople? Or are there really humans that think some people deserve less than other people? If the former is true, and I hope it is, we should match our political actions to our human instinctual values more than our political ones. And then maybe, just maybe, we can unite.
See, here's the thing. While I honestly believe that if we can't unite, we may as well divide, my hope is of course that we can realize we all have those same basic values that will help care for everyone on this planet. Common ground is the key to everything because if we took away the titles and just looked at those instincts, I really truly believe that as humans we would be able to use the common ground to improve the world. If we didn't think we had to disagree with each other, maybe we would actually get some things done.
So... I spoke the general outline of this into my phone's video recorder on the way to the Marriott yesterday. I was really brooding about it when I got there. And then two magical things happened:
1) While talking about this in the dressing room, we all found comfort in the fact that the people of NC shot themselves in the foot a little, also taking away civil union and domestic partnership rights of straight people. So maybe they can learn their lesson a bit here?
2) Maybe I'll dedicate more writing to this part later... But most importantly, and historically, Obama swooped in to make yesterday a bold and happy day as well. My dear President stepped up to endorse equal rights and make me adore him even more than I already do. I'm still angry and upset about the state of things. I still want them to change. But there is a brave man leading our country who also wants things to be different. And that makes this day in history a little bit better.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Ya get me?
We--
(Whenever I use the word "we" here, I mean humans. I feel I know a decent enough sampling, and I'm decently observant enough to speak about our nature, though I don't claim to be an expert. Anyway, now that I've said this, I can continue.)
We spend an awful lot of time thinking about how other people feel about us. From a next door neighbor, to a colleague, to a person of romantic interest... for most of us, it matters (even just a little) what they think. And then it's quite a mission before the realization that none of it matters. Care what they think all you want. Try as you might to put your best foot, your best face, your best self forward, but in the end, you can simply. never. make anyone feel differently than they do.
Another thing you cannot do is make yourself make sense to someone else. I recently found myself contemplating the short list of those I feel really "get" me. I'm always pretty excited to feel I've added anyone to this list, because aren't these lists generally short? And it feels so good to be around those people, right? (You know, in a totally un-creepy way, I feel like this post may end up being a sort of "like" letter to a few people that may be newcomers to my list.)
Sunday night, I found myself in the company of some lovely people. One of them is someone who, until recently, was a mere acquaintance. After a few recent conversations, though, I'd say we now have a green, sprouting friendship. So let's name this boy! We'll call him Tex.
At this thing on Sunday, Tex and I found ourselves having a conversation about what I was just writing about--the rarity of those who "get" you. And then it got interesting...
A fascinating realization--when you hang out with really kind, really open people, they tell you what they think of you. More specifically, they tell you the nice things they think of you. So we're all hanging out, and I mention I've had a lot on my mind, and Tex launches into a pep talk of sorts. He tells me that even though they're just getting to know me, he and his lady think I'm awesome. And I deserve great things. And I'm such a great person. Etc.
We're often the ones who tell ourselves these things (right?). And then sometimes we brush off the compliments that come from other people (right?). This time, I chose to (humbly) absorb what Tex was saying, to treat it as a mirror of the first impression I've given. Yeah, we're all just getting to know each other, but they sense something great enough in me to wish for my happiness. Not just in the way you want the world to be happy. But in the 'you are so amazing and should never settle for anything less than what is equally amazing to you' kind of way. What a fantastic reminder that no matter how hard we are on ourselves, we are likeable and deserving.
Sure, maybe it's the equivalent of a friendship honeymoon. But I'm gonna be me and conclude that:
--Maybe there are a few more guests on my list of those that I just click with.
--Maybe we all do like each other, and it's as simple as that.
--Maybe there are nice, nice people around.
--And more than maybe, if someone believes something great about you, you better damn well believe it about yourself.
Anyway, we're having this mutual admiration fest, the conversation wanders, we're talking about some other people, and I make a comment about one of those other people being someone who "gets" me. And Tex says something surprising. He says he doubts they really do. And I think it's based on the admiration. And I think it's a sort of compliment. But it gets me thinking:
--When we think someone "gets" us, maybe they don't at all. It could be just some series of actions or events that went "well" that makes it appear as if they totally get it. If we're the only one who thinks they do, is our opinion enough? Is our opinion the only one that matters or the only one that doesn't count?
--Is it possible these new people I'm just getting to know can already know me well enough to appreciate me and "get" me in a way others don't? Did they read my energy so well?
--Or is it that they "get" the me I am right now? The people who've known me my whole life may "get" me better as a whole story of a person, but maybe these people are going to be the best at knowing present day me.
--Or don't they have a clue what they're talking about? Aren't the parties involved in a connection the only ones who know whether or not it's real? Because they are the ones feeling it... So nobody can ever comment on the connection between other people.
--And anyway, connecting with any of these people doesn't mean they "get" it, "get" me. We're supposed to trust ourselves, our own feelings. There's such the importance of knowing yourself. We're the ones who are supposed to know the answers. But then our (often times) complete inability to take our own advice nullifies any authority we have over anyone else making an observation. Maybe their objectivity is the key... Or maybe we should just get better at knowing the answers... Ha.
And another thing. With this whole Sunday crowd, all I'd done was be me. (I didn't do anything. I just was.) And that was enough to win them over. Maybe, if it's ever harder than that to connect with someone, if you don't reach some kind of mutual understanding right away, maybe they'll never get you. Maybe you'll always be under-appreciated.
I have no idea who "gets" me for sure. (Because really, there are few things we can ever know for sure.) I know I feel that these people do... and I feel some other people do. Maybe they all do. Maybe none do. I think right now I just need to believe myself on all counts.
And anyway, this whole story is really two fold. 1) My brain circle about whether or not we all really "get" each other and how to know and 2) I am really enjoying being with people who care about me in this seemingly/strangely unconditional way. These people look at me and see the good, the best parts of me that I assume people see because they're such a big part of me, that I always hope they see, those parts that I hate to learn people missed or never saw in the first place. It's really nice to be around people who see it and who appreciate it and who tell me.
While I was enjoying Sunday with the nice people...
Tex and were getting to know each other a bit, talking about song writing and aspirations and stuff. He mentioned he always wanted to be a musician. I asked him what kind of stuff he wants to do. He told me he wants to have enough of a name to change the world. That's sorta what I've always said. I do this because I love it, but if I reached the height of celebrity, I would celebrate my power to have an impact on the world much more than the power of the fame. Tex and I talked about that a little, and my faith in humanity increased for the moment as I added a tick to the list of people whose hearts are as big as their talent.
A while later, another friend and I got to talking. We're gonna call this guy FDA (based on his induction into the Future Dads of America). FDA and I somehow got into a similar conversation about our wants and about music. And out of his mouth poured a similar sentiment about wanting to change the world with his voice.
The last thing he said went something like this: "I want to change the world. But so does everybody."
I stopped him, stared him in the face, and told him that everyone, in fact, does not want to change the world. (And I happily added another tick.)
I coach gymnastics at a really great gym. Coaching at a great gym in the middle of Chicago means meeting a lot of smart, sometimes privileged, sometimes very well-educated kids. Some of the girls I coach have aspirations of being doctors and archaeologists, some are involved in more extra-curricular activities than I can count... You get the picture. I was talking with one of the girls a few weeks ago. This girl in particular frequently talks about her academic successes in every subject (except Spanish). So after learning some of the goals of the other girls, I decided that day that I would ask her about her future plans. Let's call her FOOC (Future of Our Country). The conversation went something like this:
Me: Hey Fooc, what do you want to be when you grow up?
Fooc: Well... I want to be a model.
Me: Ok... But once you retire from modelling, what will you do?
Fooc: First I'll model. Then I want to marry a professional baseball or football player.
Me: Ok. But what will you do with your free time? What do you want to contribute to the world? You're on this planet, so what mark do you want to leave behind?
Fooc: My face. People will have my magazine covers to look at.
FOOC (perhaps with an alternate pronunciation)!
I've made many observations, and I have many concerns, hopes, etc. regarding the next generation based on my talks with these girls. But this one... All we need to take from this one is that not everyone wants to change the word. Some type of person wants to change the world. The optimist? The guilty? The enthusiastic?
All I know is, I like people who use exclamation points, I like optimists, and I like the special people who want to change the world. Maybe what I'm going to take from this weekend is that if I am simply myself, I will attract people who are passionate in the way I am. I will find the people who want to change the world. And if I stick with those people, I just may find that I'll always be in the presence of those who respect me, who appreciate me, and who just "get" me. And I will do my best to return the favor.
(Whenever I use the word "we" here, I mean humans. I feel I know a decent enough sampling, and I'm decently observant enough to speak about our nature, though I don't claim to be an expert. Anyway, now that I've said this, I can continue.)
We spend an awful lot of time thinking about how other people feel about us. From a next door neighbor, to a colleague, to a person of romantic interest... for most of us, it matters (even just a little) what they think. And then it's quite a mission before the realization that none of it matters. Care what they think all you want. Try as you might to put your best foot, your best face, your best self forward, but in the end, you can simply. never. make anyone feel differently than they do.
Another thing you cannot do is make yourself make sense to someone else. I recently found myself contemplating the short list of those I feel really "get" me. I'm always pretty excited to feel I've added anyone to this list, because aren't these lists generally short? And it feels so good to be around those people, right? (You know, in a totally un-creepy way, I feel like this post may end up being a sort of "like" letter to a few people that may be newcomers to my list.)
Sunday night, I found myself in the company of some lovely people. One of them is someone who, until recently, was a mere acquaintance. After a few recent conversations, though, I'd say we now have a green, sprouting friendship. So let's name this boy! We'll call him Tex.
At this thing on Sunday, Tex and I found ourselves having a conversation about what I was just writing about--the rarity of those who "get" you. And then it got interesting...
A fascinating realization--when you hang out with really kind, really open people, they tell you what they think of you. More specifically, they tell you the nice things they think of you. So we're all hanging out, and I mention I've had a lot on my mind, and Tex launches into a pep talk of sorts. He tells me that even though they're just getting to know me, he and his lady think I'm awesome. And I deserve great things. And I'm such a great person. Etc.
We're often the ones who tell ourselves these things (right?). And then sometimes we brush off the compliments that come from other people (right?). This time, I chose to (humbly) absorb what Tex was saying, to treat it as a mirror of the first impression I've given. Yeah, we're all just getting to know each other, but they sense something great enough in me to wish for my happiness. Not just in the way you want the world to be happy. But in the 'you are so amazing and should never settle for anything less than what is equally amazing to you' kind of way. What a fantastic reminder that no matter how hard we are on ourselves, we are likeable and deserving.
Sure, maybe it's the equivalent of a friendship honeymoon. But I'm gonna be me and conclude that:
--Maybe there are a few more guests on my list of those that I just click with.
--Maybe we all do like each other, and it's as simple as that.
--Maybe there are nice, nice people around.
--And more than maybe, if someone believes something great about you, you better damn well believe it about yourself.
Anyway, we're having this mutual admiration fest, the conversation wanders, we're talking about some other people, and I make a comment about one of those other people being someone who "gets" me. And Tex says something surprising. He says he doubts they really do. And I think it's based on the admiration. And I think it's a sort of compliment. But it gets me thinking:
--When we think someone "gets" us, maybe they don't at all. It could be just some series of actions or events that went "well" that makes it appear as if they totally get it. If we're the only one who thinks they do, is our opinion enough? Is our opinion the only one that matters or the only one that doesn't count?
--Is it possible these new people I'm just getting to know can already know me well enough to appreciate me and "get" me in a way others don't? Did they read my energy so well?
--Or is it that they "get" the me I am right now? The people who've known me my whole life may "get" me better as a whole story of a person, but maybe these people are going to be the best at knowing present day me.
--Or don't they have a clue what they're talking about? Aren't the parties involved in a connection the only ones who know whether or not it's real? Because they are the ones feeling it... So nobody can ever comment on the connection between other people.
--And anyway, connecting with any of these people doesn't mean they "get" it, "get" me. We're supposed to trust ourselves, our own feelings. There's such the importance of knowing yourself. We're the ones who are supposed to know the answers. But then our (often times) complete inability to take our own advice nullifies any authority we have over anyone else making an observation. Maybe their objectivity is the key... Or maybe we should just get better at knowing the answers... Ha.
And another thing. With this whole Sunday crowd, all I'd done was be me. (I didn't do anything. I just was.) And that was enough to win them over. Maybe, if it's ever harder than that to connect with someone, if you don't reach some kind of mutual understanding right away, maybe they'll never get you. Maybe you'll always be under-appreciated.
I have no idea who "gets" me for sure. (Because really, there are few things we can ever know for sure.) I know I feel that these people do... and I feel some other people do. Maybe they all do. Maybe none do. I think right now I just need to believe myself on all counts.
And anyway, this whole story is really two fold. 1) My brain circle about whether or not we all really "get" each other and how to know and 2) I am really enjoying being with people who care about me in this seemingly/strangely unconditional way. These people look at me and see the good, the best parts of me that I assume people see because they're such a big part of me, that I always hope they see, those parts that I hate to learn people missed or never saw in the first place. It's really nice to be around people who see it and who appreciate it and who tell me.
While I was enjoying Sunday with the nice people...
Tex and were getting to know each other a bit, talking about song writing and aspirations and stuff. He mentioned he always wanted to be a musician. I asked him what kind of stuff he wants to do. He told me he wants to have enough of a name to change the world. That's sorta what I've always said. I do this because I love it, but if I reached the height of celebrity, I would celebrate my power to have an impact on the world much more than the power of the fame. Tex and I talked about that a little, and my faith in humanity increased for the moment as I added a tick to the list of people whose hearts are as big as their talent.
A while later, another friend and I got to talking. We're gonna call this guy FDA (based on his induction into the Future Dads of America). FDA and I somehow got into a similar conversation about our wants and about music. And out of his mouth poured a similar sentiment about wanting to change the world with his voice.
The last thing he said went something like this: "I want to change the world. But so does everybody."
I stopped him, stared him in the face, and told him that everyone, in fact, does not want to change the world. (And I happily added another tick.)
I coach gymnastics at a really great gym. Coaching at a great gym in the middle of Chicago means meeting a lot of smart, sometimes privileged, sometimes very well-educated kids. Some of the girls I coach have aspirations of being doctors and archaeologists, some are involved in more extra-curricular activities than I can count... You get the picture. I was talking with one of the girls a few weeks ago. This girl in particular frequently talks about her academic successes in every subject (except Spanish). So after learning some of the goals of the other girls, I decided that day that I would ask her about her future plans. Let's call her FOOC (Future of Our Country). The conversation went something like this:
Me: Hey Fooc, what do you want to be when you grow up?
Fooc: Well... I want to be a model.
Me: Ok... But once you retire from modelling, what will you do?
Fooc: First I'll model. Then I want to marry a professional baseball or football player.
Me: Ok. But what will you do with your free time? What do you want to contribute to the world? You're on this planet, so what mark do you want to leave behind?
Fooc: My face. People will have my magazine covers to look at.
FOOC (perhaps with an alternate pronunciation)!
I've made many observations, and I have many concerns, hopes, etc. regarding the next generation based on my talks with these girls. But this one... All we need to take from this one is that not everyone wants to change the word. Some type of person wants to change the world. The optimist? The guilty? The enthusiastic?
All I know is, I like people who use exclamation points, I like optimists, and I like the special people who want to change the world. Maybe what I'm going to take from this weekend is that if I am simply myself, I will attract people who are passionate in the way I am. I will find the people who want to change the world. And if I stick with those people, I just may find that I'll always be in the presence of those who respect me, who appreciate me, and who just "get" me. And I will do my best to return the favor.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Muse-ings
I've been surrounding myself with music. A drink in my hand, a song in my ears, and my heart pounding with floods of feelings... I can't decide if it's better to let it in and let it out, or if I should turn off the volume and ignore it until I'm better equipped to listen and not read so much into it...
I just finished reading High Fidelity, and there's some part in it where Rob's talking about listening to songs at certain points in your life when every song seems to be speaking directly to you, directly about you. I'd find the quote, but I read a friend's copy. When I read my own books and find a quote I like, I fold down the corner of the page it's on. When I'm reading someone else's book, I have to resort to marking the page with a little scrap of paper. As I closed High Fidelity, I looked at the book, and it seemed about 40 little pieces of paper were sticking out the top. I'd probably have to re-read the whole book to get all the quotes down... and to find the one I'm thinking of now...
Back to my point--I'm in that place right now. That place where I hear a song I can relate to, and it feels like that song is about me and me alone. Without my knowing it, someone put my life to chords and poetry, and I'm the only one who gets it...
But then another minute passes, and I realize someone wrote that song, which means someone else gets it. And no matter what that song is making me feel, so very many others feel it or have felt it, too. And that's a comforting thought.
Before tonight's music started, there was mingling. And drinking. And a silent auction. I found myself thinking of things I could offer instead of money... "In exchange for tickets to your show, I will give you my pride." "For this autographed photo? Oh, I'll bid my sanity... plus a six pack for good measure."
Oh, sanity... You elusive devil...
You know, you are everywhere. You've bled into every facet of my life. I'm not sure how it all got so intertwined, but I'm somewhere, I'm anywhere, and there's something so obviously you in the room... (Or maybe that something is me?)
I have so much more to say. For now, I'm just happy to return to blogland. I'm happy that my green dress is crumpled safely in a pile on the floor. I'm happy that I get to sing and make people happy tomorrow. That's right. Five more glorious days of singing someone's song and making it mine. And then endless days of reaching out to people with what's been pouring out of me...
(And we'll pick up there next time.)
I just finished reading High Fidelity, and there's some part in it where Rob's talking about listening to songs at certain points in your life when every song seems to be speaking directly to you, directly about you. I'd find the quote, but I read a friend's copy. When I read my own books and find a quote I like, I fold down the corner of the page it's on. When I'm reading someone else's book, I have to resort to marking the page with a little scrap of paper. As I closed High Fidelity, I looked at the book, and it seemed about 40 little pieces of paper were sticking out the top. I'd probably have to re-read the whole book to get all the quotes down... and to find the one I'm thinking of now...
Back to my point--I'm in that place right now. That place where I hear a song I can relate to, and it feels like that song is about me and me alone. Without my knowing it, someone put my life to chords and poetry, and I'm the only one who gets it...
But then another minute passes, and I realize someone wrote that song, which means someone else gets it. And no matter what that song is making me feel, so very many others feel it or have felt it, too. And that's a comforting thought.
Before tonight's music started, there was mingling. And drinking. And a silent auction. I found myself thinking of things I could offer instead of money... "In exchange for tickets to your show, I will give you my pride." "For this autographed photo? Oh, I'll bid my sanity... plus a six pack for good measure."
Oh, sanity... You elusive devil...
You know, you are everywhere. You've bled into every facet of my life. I'm not sure how it all got so intertwined, but I'm somewhere, I'm anywhere, and there's something so obviously you in the room... (Or maybe that something is me?)
I have so much more to say. For now, I'm just happy to return to blogland. I'm happy that my green dress is crumpled safely in a pile on the floor. I'm happy that I get to sing and make people happy tomorrow. That's right. Five more glorious days of singing someone's song and making it mine. And then endless days of reaching out to people with what's been pouring out of me...
(And we'll pick up there next time.)
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Check In...
I'm a writer. My sentences are too flowery, I use more words than are necessary, I use commas everywhere I'm supposed to and then some, I think a big vocabulary is sexier than a six pack, and I live for a great metaphor. So when the universe throws a humorously obvious metaphor my way, it leaves me, well, thrown. It pains me to have to be cryptic here, my place to write. But I, of course, can't describe the ins and outs of this particular metaphor. What I can say is this: I think sometimes we know what we need to do. We know what's right, and we can tell ourselves over and over to follow that path. If it were that simple, however, we wouldn't be so familiar with the struggle between the head and the heart that colors our collections of entertainment. So we live with this awareness of what we should do. We make a plan and try to follow it, though we know the head and the heart are swimming along next to us battling it out.
Things have been happening lately--things that I think are the equivalent to walking down the street and finding a mural of your life on an el platform. It's very "Stranger Than Fiction." I thought the first time was just the world's funny way of reminding me that I know what to do and giving me that little push to keep going. But it keeps happening. Today, I reached for A, and B happened within the hour.
This is now the worst blog entry ever because that's about as much as I can write in code without breaking the code or without it getting annoyingly boring (I'll pretend there's not a chance we've reached that already). It would be totally uncool of me to actually discuss A or B or really any letters of the alphabet. I suppose this is why I've been doing so much songwriting instead of blogging. I can paint with the whole alphabet in my songs... Though I am interested to see what will happen when I start gigging. When people hear what I've been writing for the last six months... Will they just listen? Or will they build a puzzle?
So, I guess what I came here to say is, "Universe, I hear you. You're hilarious, but you don't have to keep hitting me over the head with it all. Truly, I get it." I do.
Things have been happening lately--things that I think are the equivalent to walking down the street and finding a mural of your life on an el platform. It's very "Stranger Than Fiction." I thought the first time was just the world's funny way of reminding me that I know what to do and giving me that little push to keep going. But it keeps happening. Today, I reached for A, and B happened within the hour.
This is now the worst blog entry ever because that's about as much as I can write in code without breaking the code or without it getting annoyingly boring (I'll pretend there's not a chance we've reached that already). It would be totally uncool of me to actually discuss A or B or really any letters of the alphabet. I suppose this is why I've been doing so much songwriting instead of blogging. I can paint with the whole alphabet in my songs... Though I am interested to see what will happen when I start gigging. When people hear what I've been writing for the last six months... Will they just listen? Or will they build a puzzle?
So, I guess what I came here to say is, "Universe, I hear you. You're hilarious, but you don't have to keep hitting me over the head with it all. Truly, I get it." I do.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
obama urges us to cry over spilled milk...
Ok, I've sat through many a State of the Union. I'm sure the whole 'who claps and who doesn't' thing has been talked to death. But watching tonight, in this time of extreme partisanship, I couldn't help but look at this phenomenon once again. It makes me wonder if there's some memo that goes out the night before:
Hey Repubs,
This is your reminder to remain seated at all times. Please also keep your hands from colliding and producing any noise.
Love,
Your Fellow Right-ies
Or maybe they're wearing ear buds like on reality TV, so they can get approval to celebrate certain presidential points. For example, when Obama mentioned appreciating the "men and women in uniform," everyone stood up. Because, you'd be kind of an asshole if you didn't, right?
But the Right Wingers did remain seated for several issues that maaaybe they should have thought more about. I kept a little list tonight, and they stayed seated and pouting regarding:
--equal pay for women
--developing alternative energy
--preventing insider trading
--preventing the importing of dangerous goods to the US
--reducing the outsourcing of could-be American jobs
Do they actually want us to believe they are against the issues they aren't applauding? Because if we hadn't seen this over and over, it would seem to send that message loud and clear...
So, really, every woman in the room? You're against equal pay? I feel like any woman that intentionally didn't applaud for that should be ashamed.
I know, I know... It's politics. It just makes me sick to think people would rather stick to their side than remain on the side of equality and community that this country was built on.
When I went to South Africa in college, we were there on Human Rights Day. (I actually just found out this also exists worldwide.) But S.A. has their own Human Rights Day, and I remember thinking two things:
1) What a wonderful holiday.
2) Shouldn't EVERY day be human rights day?
I watched "The Help" last week, and it made me feel so... small. Moved, but small. It makes me sad that though the movie could be classified as historical, we maybe haven't come so far after all. And then I feel guilty. And then I feel helpless. So, the movie (and life) teaches us we should all do everything we can--like our heroin does (not gonna say more and spoil). But seeing the end of the movie and looking at the current state of the world seems to send the message that trying to take a stand is fruitless. Of course I'm way too much of an optimist to believe that. I just feel so stuck sometimes. I want so much to live in a different kind of world. I want so much to help.
Simultaneously, I feel like I'd need money and power to even make a dent and also like every smile and every meal can change a life.
If admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery, maybe admitting you care is the first step to action? I'm not sure where I'm going here. I just feel like on the subject of partisanship, there's an even bigger divide in our country between people who care and people who don't. People are so quick to use the word socialist as a 'danger' word. But what if, just what if the main priority of everyone on this planet was to make sure that everyone had food, shelter, safety, and freedom.
What if everyone had a fighting chance?
What if everyone gave a damn?
I've had conversations with someone I know about the environment. He likes to interject our conversations on this subject I'm pretty passionate about with things like, "I won't be here a hundred years from now, so it's not my problem."
To each their own passion. Lately, I'm just really sick of apathy. And inaction. So I suppose I've gotta call myself to action here, too. On New Years, Badass asked me if I had any resolutions... I've been working on a separate post on that subject. But I guess I better add a plan for what I'll do to help this year. Because I just have to do something and believe that it has the potential strength of that old butterfly flapping away.
My favorite Barack line tonight was, "Tyranny is no match for liberty." I think he's said this before. Either way, I sure hope we can keep that ringing true, buddy Prez. I sure. hope. so.
Hey Repubs,
This is your reminder to remain seated at all times. Please also keep your hands from colliding and producing any noise.
Love,
Your Fellow Right-ies
Or maybe they're wearing ear buds like on reality TV, so they can get approval to celebrate certain presidential points. For example, when Obama mentioned appreciating the "men and women in uniform," everyone stood up. Because, you'd be kind of an asshole if you didn't, right?
But the Right Wingers did remain seated for several issues that maaaybe they should have thought more about. I kept a little list tonight, and they stayed seated and pouting regarding:
--equal pay for women
--developing alternative energy
--preventing insider trading
--preventing the importing of dangerous goods to the US
--reducing the outsourcing of could-be American jobs
Do they actually want us to believe they are against the issues they aren't applauding? Because if we hadn't seen this over and over, it would seem to send that message loud and clear...
So, really, every woman in the room? You're against equal pay? I feel like any woman that intentionally didn't applaud for that should be ashamed.
I know, I know... It's politics. It just makes me sick to think people would rather stick to their side than remain on the side of equality and community that this country was built on.
When I went to South Africa in college, we were there on Human Rights Day. (I actually just found out this also exists worldwide.) But S.A. has their own Human Rights Day, and I remember thinking two things:
1) What a wonderful holiday.
2) Shouldn't EVERY day be human rights day?
I watched "The Help" last week, and it made me feel so... small. Moved, but small. It makes me sad that though the movie could be classified as historical, we maybe haven't come so far after all. And then I feel guilty. And then I feel helpless. So, the movie (and life) teaches us we should all do everything we can--like our heroin does (not gonna say more and spoil). But seeing the end of the movie and looking at the current state of the world seems to send the message that trying to take a stand is fruitless. Of course I'm way too much of an optimist to believe that. I just feel so stuck sometimes. I want so much to live in a different kind of world. I want so much to help.
Simultaneously, I feel like I'd need money and power to even make a dent and also like every smile and every meal can change a life.
If admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery, maybe admitting you care is the first step to action? I'm not sure where I'm going here. I just feel like on the subject of partisanship, there's an even bigger divide in our country between people who care and people who don't. People are so quick to use the word socialist as a 'danger' word. But what if, just what if the main priority of everyone on this planet was to make sure that everyone had food, shelter, safety, and freedom.
What if everyone had a fighting chance?
What if everyone gave a damn?
I've had conversations with someone I know about the environment. He likes to interject our conversations on this subject I'm pretty passionate about with things like, "I won't be here a hundred years from now, so it's not my problem."
To each their own passion. Lately, I'm just really sick of apathy. And inaction. So I suppose I've gotta call myself to action here, too. On New Years, Badass asked me if I had any resolutions... I've been working on a separate post on that subject. But I guess I better add a plan for what I'll do to help this year. Because I just have to do something and believe that it has the potential strength of that old butterfly flapping away.
My favorite Barack line tonight was, "Tyranny is no match for liberty." I think he's said this before. Either way, I sure hope we can keep that ringing true, buddy Prez. I sure. hope. so.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Both sides now...
Perseverance. It's a trait that's easy to preach and sometimes difficult to follow. And I'm learning lately that while it is meant to be used steadily, it is sometimes also best used selectively.
Career perseverance I believe in more now than ever. Last month, after probably my fifteenth audition for the same company, I believe my exact words were, "There has never in history been a theatre company so uninterested in an actress as they are in me." Then last week, I went back... of course. And as I type this, my contract is floating through the mail. That's the thing about this business I'm in--no means, 'not this time.' We train ourselves never to hear an actual 'no.' And we continue on.
But then there is life. I'm so used to persevering, I tell myself 'no,' but I keep going. Then one day I wake up in a place I've only dreamed of. And when I look down at the over-sized t-shirt I'm wearing, I remember I'm just a paper doll. It's a very pretty picture, but it's just a painting on a wall of the house I wanted to bid on. What's that expression about putting lipstick on a pig? Life shouldn't be a bacony animal... We silly humans try to make things that just... aren't. We silly, silly humans push ahead instead of waiting for the right time... Then we force ourselves to look in the mirror, unfold the tabs of paper, and we realize... this is life... And life is about patience. And learning. And taking our own advice. And standing firmly in who we are. And sometimes growing.
All of these things take a whole lot of perseverance, but when business hours are over, we must remember to stir in some patience and let our lives flow. At least that's the advice I'm encouraging myself to follow these days...
Career perseverance I believe in more now than ever. Last month, after probably my fifteenth audition for the same company, I believe my exact words were, "There has never in history been a theatre company so uninterested in an actress as they are in me." Then last week, I went back... of course. And as I type this, my contract is floating through the mail. That's the thing about this business I'm in--no means, 'not this time.' We train ourselves never to hear an actual 'no.' And we continue on.
But then there is life. I'm so used to persevering, I tell myself 'no,' but I keep going. Then one day I wake up in a place I've only dreamed of. And when I look down at the over-sized t-shirt I'm wearing, I remember I'm just a paper doll. It's a very pretty picture, but it's just a painting on a wall of the house I wanted to bid on. What's that expression about putting lipstick on a pig? Life shouldn't be a bacony animal... We silly humans try to make things that just... aren't. We silly, silly humans push ahead instead of waiting for the right time... Then we force ourselves to look in the mirror, unfold the tabs of paper, and we realize... this is life... And life is about patience. And learning. And taking our own advice. And standing firmly in who we are. And sometimes growing.
All of these things take a whole lot of perseverance, but when business hours are over, we must remember to stir in some patience and let our lives flow. At least that's the advice I'm encouraging myself to follow these days...
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