I grew up in a place where the term "senseless tragedy" was as regular as the weather forecast. It was in reference to the father who was shot down while defending the family business that left my nine year old friend without a Dad. It was about how kids were attacked because of the neighborhood they were from or the jacket someone else wanted. It was over sneakers and team rivalries. It was random at times. Completely random. Wrong place at the wrong time.
Some things never change. This past week a high school graduation took place. It was a day of promise and hope for a future full of chance and opportunity. For some kids it was the start of something bigger...something brighter. But as fate would have it another senseless tragedy occurred. This bright future might have burned brighter than most. When you see a star you just know it but I guess the heavens will know that sparkle now.
To the family, friends, teachers and coaches who helped nurture that shine and watch the comet blaze down the field I am truly sorry for yet another senseless tragedy. May you always be remembered as the star that you were.
Be at peace Isayah Muller.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Flashbacks (Between the Lines · Sarah Bareilles)
There is a scene at the end of the movie, The Sixth Sense, that is probably one of the most memorable of any movie. It is a series of memories being flashed at you but this time it is the reality of them. It is the truth being seen instead of the illusion that was set up through the entire film. It had so much impact for me as this man realized what was really going on as opposed to what he believed.
I have this happen so much lately. My life as I knew it wasn't real. It was twisted with illusion and hope. I was given a nice stage and some decent plot with interesting writing...but now looking back I am feeling more and more like the idiot at the end of the movie. This wide-eyed optimist was easy to fool I guess. At times it makes me sad. I imagine I am watching this film. I feel bad for the character watching her life stream before her eyes. I feel bad that she thought life was so different than it really was. I laugh at her for thinking she had any power at all because looking back she was played so well that she didn't even feel a thing. Other times it makes me angry. So many decisions were made based on this life and to find out it wasn't authentic means the decisions were all wrong.
The irony of it all is that I believed I was so aware of my surroundings. I thought I had some hand in the movie that was playing. I thought I held the camera and created the script and designed the costumes. Well, the joke is on me. I was merely a stage hand. An extra.
At the end of the Sixth Sense a movie is over. All that is left is this sad feeling for this man so attached to his old life that he couldn't see it for what it really was. I can't get up and leave this theater. It is all still around me everyday. I am watching those flashes of memory now...little by little...all over the place. I see the images being shattered as the memory is shifted from my creation to its own reality. I cringe as new ones pop up. As I tune up my lost intuition they all become so clear. Maybe I was distracted. Maybe I was naive. Maybes don't get me my life back. They don't allow for the redo.
So now I am here wondering what to filter out and what to keep. Every word has doubt. Every promise was empty. Every memory is questioned. That sad feeling at the end of the movie is now a partner that seems to follow me around. A shadow looming in the background of every thought that I have. Was this real? Was that genuine? No, no...not that one, too! Little strings being snipped as I rethink all of it with open eyes this time around. I once called a boy gullable. Well karma...I get it...the joke was on me. So now the movie is over. People are throwing out their empty bags of popcorn and soda cups. They are grabbing their sweaters and checking their pockets. They are leaving the theater and heading back to their real lives. Only for me the movie is playing over and over and I don't get to leave the theater. As the credits play and the words come up upon the screen I will read them all looking for hints or clues. I will wish for some extra footage with the answers to it all. Some huge revelation that makes sense of it all. But the screen has gone black and the sound system is now playing generic music. The lights are on...bright and painful. I have to leave the theater and hope that the details fade. I'm hoping to forget some of the scenes. I hope that someday I can say that though I don't remember all of the details I do remember thinking the movie was a good one.
I have this happen so much lately. My life as I knew it wasn't real. It was twisted with illusion and hope. I was given a nice stage and some decent plot with interesting writing...but now looking back I am feeling more and more like the idiot at the end of the movie. This wide-eyed optimist was easy to fool I guess. At times it makes me sad. I imagine I am watching this film. I feel bad for the character watching her life stream before her eyes. I feel bad that she thought life was so different than it really was. I laugh at her for thinking she had any power at all because looking back she was played so well that she didn't even feel a thing. Other times it makes me angry. So many decisions were made based on this life and to find out it wasn't authentic means the decisions were all wrong.
The irony of it all is that I believed I was so aware of my surroundings. I thought I had some hand in the movie that was playing. I thought I held the camera and created the script and designed the costumes. Well, the joke is on me. I was merely a stage hand. An extra.
At the end of the Sixth Sense a movie is over. All that is left is this sad feeling for this man so attached to his old life that he couldn't see it for what it really was. I can't get up and leave this theater. It is all still around me everyday. I am watching those flashes of memory now...little by little...all over the place. I see the images being shattered as the memory is shifted from my creation to its own reality. I cringe as new ones pop up. As I tune up my lost intuition they all become so clear. Maybe I was distracted. Maybe I was naive. Maybes don't get me my life back. They don't allow for the redo.
So now I am here wondering what to filter out and what to keep. Every word has doubt. Every promise was empty. Every memory is questioned. That sad feeling at the end of the movie is now a partner that seems to follow me around. A shadow looming in the background of every thought that I have. Was this real? Was that genuine? No, no...not that one, too! Little strings being snipped as I rethink all of it with open eyes this time around. I once called a boy gullable. Well karma...I get it...the joke was on me. So now the movie is over. People are throwing out their empty bags of popcorn and soda cups. They are grabbing their sweaters and checking their pockets. They are leaving the theater and heading back to their real lives. Only for me the movie is playing over and over and I don't get to leave the theater. As the credits play and the words come up upon the screen I will read them all looking for hints or clues. I will wish for some extra footage with the answers to it all. Some huge revelation that makes sense of it all. But the screen has gone black and the sound system is now playing generic music. The lights are on...bright and painful. I have to leave the theater and hope that the details fade. I'm hoping to forget some of the scenes. I hope that someday I can say that though I don't remember all of the details I do remember thinking the movie was a good one.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
What do you do? (Let Go · Frou Frou)
I met someone new yesterday. As grown ups we don't meet people often. I was asked about myself. I realized as I was answering I sounded like a hot mess. Just simply talking about my current state of life...I sounded so lost. I didn't mean to and I certainly wasn't being a Debbie Downer...it was just life at this point. I went about my business with little whispers in my head.
Analyzing life is what I do these days. Some people scrapbook or take photos. Some people golf or read. I analyze. I look at choices and decisions and wonder what I could have done differently. I wonder about the yesterday, the today and the tomorrow of it all. I hush myself. I watch the sunny hills as I drive through country roads. I listen to the faint strings in the background of a song I have heard a million times. I look to make old things new and new things old. I try. But when someone just asks what you are or what you do...there it all is. I don't know what I'm doing right now. It's that simple. I also heard myself say something about how hard it was not knowing when I am such a typical overachiever.
But the truth is I have been enjoying this new journey. When you watch a hoarder show and they bring in the big guns...the organizing freaks who kick ass...what do they do? They take the room that needs to be fixed and EMPTY it. They sort what they are keeping in a pile. They decide what they are donating. There is always a huge pile of things they are dumping. Then they find out what the person wants and needs in that room. They design it with colors and accessories that will make them happier. They organize it. They create systems that will help the person to maintain the scary new thing that they are doing. Well I am doing all of it. I am the hoarder. I have everything that has ever happened to me all trapped in my brain. It has been taking up space...prime real estate. I am the sweeper who is coming in to help me purge. I am the designer of the new space. I am the person who will be living in the new place that is created. I am the one taking the stuff to the dump or donating it. I am giving away what is no longer necessary.
All other methods have proven unsuccessful. Little bits and pieces of things still left to linger. I have taken my arm and swept all contents of the table onto the floor. Swooooosh. One giant push. I am now sitting on the floor and digging through the piles with a garbage can nearby. The walls are white and bare. The floor is unfinished. The blank space can be quite overwhelming. It is why people hire designers who are trained just for that purpose. But lately I am deciding what will make the cut. There are colors to be picked and furniture to be moved. There might be some artwork that needs to go up. I will pick and search for things that will make me happy in this room. This room that is me. My life.
So yes...I don't know what I am or what I do at the moment. I am new. I am different. If it didn't work for 38 years it needs to go. If it wasn't my voice it needs to be quieted. If it is no longer my taste it can be changed. I will spend each day cleaning, searching and finding until my room is a nice place to lay my head at night. It might be a bit time consuming spending all of this energy in finding me but something tells me it will all be quite worth it. So when you ask what I am or what I do...I might say "I don't know" but somewhere in there is the biggest irony yet...I never really did know. All of that time I was actually floating around lost. Now when I say "I don't know" it's a good thing. Now I am aware of it all and maybe just maybe can start to find my way to being found.
Analyzing life is what I do these days. Some people scrapbook or take photos. Some people golf or read. I analyze. I look at choices and decisions and wonder what I could have done differently. I wonder about the yesterday, the today and the tomorrow of it all. I hush myself. I watch the sunny hills as I drive through country roads. I listen to the faint strings in the background of a song I have heard a million times. I look to make old things new and new things old. I try. But when someone just asks what you are or what you do...there it all is. I don't know what I'm doing right now. It's that simple. I also heard myself say something about how hard it was not knowing when I am such a typical overachiever.
But the truth is I have been enjoying this new journey. When you watch a hoarder show and they bring in the big guns...the organizing freaks who kick ass...what do they do? They take the room that needs to be fixed and EMPTY it. They sort what they are keeping in a pile. They decide what they are donating. There is always a huge pile of things they are dumping. Then they find out what the person wants and needs in that room. They design it with colors and accessories that will make them happier. They organize it. They create systems that will help the person to maintain the scary new thing that they are doing. Well I am doing all of it. I am the hoarder. I have everything that has ever happened to me all trapped in my brain. It has been taking up space...prime real estate. I am the sweeper who is coming in to help me purge. I am the designer of the new space. I am the person who will be living in the new place that is created. I am the one taking the stuff to the dump or donating it. I am giving away what is no longer necessary.
All other methods have proven unsuccessful. Little bits and pieces of things still left to linger. I have taken my arm and swept all contents of the table onto the floor. Swooooosh. One giant push. I am now sitting on the floor and digging through the piles with a garbage can nearby. The walls are white and bare. The floor is unfinished. The blank space can be quite overwhelming. It is why people hire designers who are trained just for that purpose. But lately I am deciding what will make the cut. There are colors to be picked and furniture to be moved. There might be some artwork that needs to go up. I will pick and search for things that will make me happy in this room. This room that is me. My life.
So yes...I don't know what I am or what I do at the moment. I am new. I am different. If it didn't work for 38 years it needs to go. If it wasn't my voice it needs to be quieted. If it is no longer my taste it can be changed. I will spend each day cleaning, searching and finding until my room is a nice place to lay my head at night. It might be a bit time consuming spending all of this energy in finding me but something tells me it will all be quite worth it. So when you ask what I am or what I do...I might say "I don't know" but somewhere in there is the biggest irony yet...I never really did know. All of that time I was actually floating around lost. Now when I say "I don't know" it's a good thing. Now I am aware of it all and maybe just maybe can start to find my way to being found.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Walk it all away... (Skinny Love · Bon Iver)
Last night I walked. It was kinda late and I had a slight panic moment when a jogger ran up behind me (too many crime shows). The tall lights of the stadium called to the collection of moths and insects and left a surreal moment... where it was hot out yet in the lamp light it looked as if it was snowing. I watched my shadow as it walked the track with me...tall and steady. It reminded me of the games of manhunt as a kid in the Bronx. There was a peace to it all back then and the same still applies.
I head to the track with ipod charged and emotions high because I need to get it all out. I go for a "short walk" and end up with a weakened battery and sore feet three miles later. I have realized the amount of walking that I do coincides with the amount of stuff I need to walk off. This night was a big one. The first lap was dedicated to realizing how badly I need new sneakers...they hurt. The next lap brought me back to summer as a kid. The lap after that I discovered the bats zipping by above me for the tasty and simple fly thru meals at the lights. I found some good songs that kept my pace even. A mile in I start to think about the topics that get me to the track in the first place. There are countless ones so I am never short for material. I do try to give them a place order though and take them on one at a time. Some get pushed to the bottom of the list for another walk...others are right there screaming to be first.
I might cry for a bit. I figure it is just burning extra calories so it's quite alright. I don't get much time alone to cry and I don't like to get it on everyone so this works out nicely. Plus, if someone crazy does want to kidnap me maybe he'll go for a less complicated subject. I walk. I push the crap of it all down in my body and with each step that I take I release some of it. I visualize it leaving me. It's black and toxic and as it leaves my body there is a white peace to take its place. I then switch lanes with each lap not only to keep track of my mileage but to not accidentally step in the same stuff and pick it up with my sneaker only to have to dump it again. By the time I head the other way on the track descending back down the lane numbers it has dissipated. Or maybe a bat or moth has eaten it all up. They are tasty little morsels. Somewhere around the eleventh lap a skunk reminds me that sometimes a beautiful warm night can be broken up by the stench of a scared little critter. We all have our defense mechanisms. Some are healthier than others. Some are simple and clear and others are complicated and quiet but either way they get us through. They get us through the moments that are too hard to face. The trick is to learn them. Learn them and find the antidote. Learn them and the process that they are. It is also nice to make them as healthy as possible. I used to drive when I needed a breather. Walking has proven to be so much more effective. I envision myself someday walking the track smaller and lighter in both weight and burden...maybe then I'll only need a few laps. Until then I will walk.
I head to the track with ipod charged and emotions high because I need to get it all out. I go for a "short walk" and end up with a weakened battery and sore feet three miles later. I have realized the amount of walking that I do coincides with the amount of stuff I need to walk off. This night was a big one. The first lap was dedicated to realizing how badly I need new sneakers...they hurt. The next lap brought me back to summer as a kid. The lap after that I discovered the bats zipping by above me for the tasty and simple fly thru meals at the lights. I found some good songs that kept my pace even. A mile in I start to think about the topics that get me to the track in the first place. There are countless ones so I am never short for material. I do try to give them a place order though and take them on one at a time. Some get pushed to the bottom of the list for another walk...others are right there screaming to be first.
I might cry for a bit. I figure it is just burning extra calories so it's quite alright. I don't get much time alone to cry and I don't like to get it on everyone so this works out nicely. Plus, if someone crazy does want to kidnap me maybe he'll go for a less complicated subject. I walk. I push the crap of it all down in my body and with each step that I take I release some of it. I visualize it leaving me. It's black and toxic and as it leaves my body there is a white peace to take its place. I then switch lanes with each lap not only to keep track of my mileage but to not accidentally step in the same stuff and pick it up with my sneaker only to have to dump it again. By the time I head the other way on the track descending back down the lane numbers it has dissipated. Or maybe a bat or moth has eaten it all up. They are tasty little morsels. Somewhere around the eleventh lap a skunk reminds me that sometimes a beautiful warm night can be broken up by the stench of a scared little critter. We all have our defense mechanisms. Some are healthier than others. Some are simple and clear and others are complicated and quiet but either way they get us through. They get us through the moments that are too hard to face. The trick is to learn them. Learn them and find the antidote. Learn them and the process that they are. It is also nice to make them as healthy as possible. I used to drive when I needed a breather. Walking has proven to be so much more effective. I envision myself someday walking the track smaller and lighter in both weight and burden...maybe then I'll only need a few laps. Until then I will walk.
Friday, June 17, 2011
For Sale: Top Loader VCR (The Show · Lenka)
The 21 year old me had the world at her fingertips. She had found her someday husband. She was finishing up school. The teaching that she had loved since childhood was right there in her lap. She bought her first new car. Her parents were in their own groove. She was tan and fit and happy. She was surrounded by good friends. She was full of confidence. She had good jobs and had perfect credit. It was all playing out perfectly. When she smiled it was from the inside out. She was more her than ever before and it would be the last time she felt that way...
Fast forward...through the moves, jobs, wedding, deaths, babies, trips, friends, meals, holidays, bars, anniversaries, therapy sessions, bosses, pets, paint swatches, recipes, shopping, books, concerts, wings, gallery openings, classes, seedlings, gadgets, bonuses, debts, certificates, vacations, status updates and every moment that fills in the time between those things.
Now you will find me here. I am sifting through old things and old memories. I am wondering where and what and why and how. I have to quiet the constant frequencies of the old. They play in the background like static on an old am radio. Sometimes they make my decision for me. Sometimes they screw up the new. Ghosts. I rewind my old top loader vcr with the wire and remote with three buttons and play the same stuff over and over. I try to figure out the pivotal moments that changed it all. Where did she go? What decision was perfect and which changed my life forever?
How many of us still use our top loading vcr with the wire that trips everyone that walks by? None of us. We have computers with a show or movie at our beck and call. We have dvrs that keep our picks for us. We watch when we feel like it and we delete as we see fit. Shoot, we don't even waste time with introduction theme songs (well except for certain shows like Big Bang) or commercials. I can watch certain competition shows in 13 minutes if I push through all of the stuff I don't want to see. So why in life am I hanging onto the vcr? Why am I playing the same old tapes over and over? They look grainy and sound muted.
When you get a new gadget you have to figure it out. Some read the directions and manuals...others play until they get it right. There is a learning curve. We won't be as fast with the functions or quick and nimble with the applications. We will have to learn it all over again. Someday it will be taken for granted that we know what we are doing. We will forget that it was rough there for a bit as we learned the new. There might be resistance to the learning and growth. It's not easy. Someday we will just be glad that the picture is clearer, the sound is pure and the functions are much more efficient. In the meantime, it will be a challenge.
So here we are in present time. The 21 year old got lost but the feeling has been found. It is all right in front of me. The difference now is that there is experience, maturity, and a giant sieve. It will shake life and see what is worth salvaging in the basket and what falls through to be left. I will have moments of fear and worry and loss and regret but they will diminish and fade as the new hope for tomorrow kicks it all out of the way.
It is time to hit the PLAY button.
Fast forward...through the moves, jobs, wedding, deaths, babies, trips, friends, meals, holidays, bars, anniversaries, therapy sessions, bosses, pets, paint swatches, recipes, shopping, books, concerts, wings, gallery openings, classes, seedlings, gadgets, bonuses, debts, certificates, vacations, status updates and every moment that fills in the time between those things.
Now you will find me here. I am sifting through old things and old memories. I am wondering where and what and why and how. I have to quiet the constant frequencies of the old. They play in the background like static on an old am radio. Sometimes they make my decision for me. Sometimes they screw up the new. Ghosts. I rewind my old top loader vcr with the wire and remote with three buttons and play the same stuff over and over. I try to figure out the pivotal moments that changed it all. Where did she go? What decision was perfect and which changed my life forever?
How many of us still use our top loading vcr with the wire that trips everyone that walks by? None of us. We have computers with a show or movie at our beck and call. We have dvrs that keep our picks for us. We watch when we feel like it and we delete as we see fit. Shoot, we don't even waste time with introduction theme songs (well except for certain shows like Big Bang) or commercials. I can watch certain competition shows in 13 minutes if I push through all of the stuff I don't want to see. So why in life am I hanging onto the vcr? Why am I playing the same old tapes over and over? They look grainy and sound muted.
When you get a new gadget you have to figure it out. Some read the directions and manuals...others play until they get it right. There is a learning curve. We won't be as fast with the functions or quick and nimble with the applications. We will have to learn it all over again. Someday it will be taken for granted that we know what we are doing. We will forget that it was rough there for a bit as we learned the new. There might be resistance to the learning and growth. It's not easy. Someday we will just be glad that the picture is clearer, the sound is pure and the functions are much more efficient. In the meantime, it will be a challenge.
So here we are in present time. The 21 year old got lost but the feeling has been found. It is all right in front of me. The difference now is that there is experience, maturity, and a giant sieve. It will shake life and see what is worth salvaging in the basket and what falls through to be left. I will have moments of fear and worry and loss and regret but they will diminish and fade as the new hope for tomorrow kicks it all out of the way.
It is time to hit the PLAY button.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Assessment (Sweet Disposition · The Temper Trap)
I have been a cheerleader my whole life and I don't mean the type with the pom poms. As a little girl I was given the job of jester to a mother, who though wonderful, had many challenges and even more demons. She looked to a little girl to soothe her and make her smile. Our relationship was a beautiful thing and a heavy burden all at the same time. This trend continued. I was the one giving people pep talks in most situations. I was the one supporting decisions and helping to make things happen. Most times I did not volunteer...the jobs just seemed to come my way. So that is what I do. If you are having a moment where you are lost I will put in my 37 cents (5 cents just won't do). The problem with that is you forget to cheer yourself on. You forget that you are there at all as you fix and placate and tend to the lost of the world.
I have been on a journey this year to find me. As I go to weekly therapy sessions to clear my head about the changes the same topic keeps coming up. I seem to have a problem with me. I worry about others opinions and what punishment I will get if I make one decision over another. I know that if I do what is right for me it will make others angry. I also have some weird thing about not deserving to have time and attention from people. I give...I don't take. It feels odd to do the opposite. I have been practicing to do what I need to and let the rest deal with their own lives. This doesn't mean I won't be your pep talk pal or there when you need me...it just means I am taking some time to be my own jester.
I am almost to my halfway point of new things. I am pretty proud so far. Some were pretty big. If it wasn't for this little challenge I don't think I would've been able to push myself properly. Some were silly. But that is life...balance. For every great adventure that was taken and every happy blog post that came with it there were moments of complete and utter desperation. For every good moment of easy there were several of pain. But I can't even begin to explain the feelings it has allowed me to explore. I am a chicken and this has pushed me. It will continue to push. This challenge has also made life COMPLETELY different. Now I can't imagine living life without it. It is a treasure hunt with a natural high every single day.
The second part of my challenge is approaching. I have many more goals. I have some plans. I have people I need to spend time with and others I need to find or catch up with. I have a few I need to let go of...they will be in the wake of my path along with junk I have accumulated through the years and clothes that will be too big. I will welcome the new cosmic pals that have found me and allow them to take care of me a bit. When you find me asking for a new idea it is really because I need one and so many of you have helped me. I am open to the love and support and celebration that comes with life. I don't want to be a victim or a martyr. I want to be the ball of sunshine who always searches for the rainbow after a shower. Thank you for the help...the support...the words of love. Thank for the invites and new ideas. Please don't be shy about ideas because this chicken is getting more brave every minute. Life just doesn't seem like living when you are scared to death of feeling it all. Life just isn't the same without loving your circle with reckless abandon. Life feels weird with support and love around me...funny, one would think that was a normal feeling. Maybe by the end of the year it will be.
I have been on a journey this year to find me. As I go to weekly therapy sessions to clear my head about the changes the same topic keeps coming up. I seem to have a problem with me. I worry about others opinions and what punishment I will get if I make one decision over another. I know that if I do what is right for me it will make others angry. I also have some weird thing about not deserving to have time and attention from people. I give...I don't take. It feels odd to do the opposite. I have been practicing to do what I need to and let the rest deal with their own lives. This doesn't mean I won't be your pep talk pal or there when you need me...it just means I am taking some time to be my own jester.
I am almost to my halfway point of new things. I am pretty proud so far. Some were pretty big. If it wasn't for this little challenge I don't think I would've been able to push myself properly. Some were silly. But that is life...balance. For every great adventure that was taken and every happy blog post that came with it there were moments of complete and utter desperation. For every good moment of easy there were several of pain. But I can't even begin to explain the feelings it has allowed me to explore. I am a chicken and this has pushed me. It will continue to push. This challenge has also made life COMPLETELY different. Now I can't imagine living life without it. It is a treasure hunt with a natural high every single day.
The second part of my challenge is approaching. I have many more goals. I have some plans. I have people I need to spend time with and others I need to find or catch up with. I have a few I need to let go of...they will be in the wake of my path along with junk I have accumulated through the years and clothes that will be too big. I will welcome the new cosmic pals that have found me and allow them to take care of me a bit. When you find me asking for a new idea it is really because I need one and so many of you have helped me. I am open to the love and support and celebration that comes with life. I don't want to be a victim or a martyr. I want to be the ball of sunshine who always searches for the rainbow after a shower. Thank you for the help...the support...the words of love. Thank for the invites and new ideas. Please don't be shy about ideas because this chicken is getting more brave every minute. Life just doesn't seem like living when you are scared to death of feeling it all. Life just isn't the same without loving your circle with reckless abandon. Life feels weird with support and love around me...funny, one would think that was a normal feeling. Maybe by the end of the year it will be.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Mean (Taylor Swift)
You, with your words like knives
And swords and weapons that you use against me,
You, have knocked me off my feet again,
Got me feeling like I’m nothing.
You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard
Calling me out when I’m wounded.
You, pickin’ on the weaker man.
Well you can take me down,
With just one single blow.
But you don’t know, what you don’t know,
Someday, I’ll be living in a big old city,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean.
Someday, I’ll be big enough so you can’t hit me,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so mean?
You, with your switching sides,
And your walk by lies and your humiliation
You, have pointed out my flaws again,
As if I don’t already see them.
I walk with my head down,
Trying to block you out cause I’ll never impress you
I just wanna feel okay again.
I bet you got pushed around,
Somebody made you cold,
But the cycle ends right now,
You can’t lead me down that road,
You don’t know, what you don’t know
Someday, I’ll be, living in a big old city,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean.
Someday, I’ll be big enough so you can’t hit me,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so mean?
And I can see you years from now in a bar,
Talking over a football game,
With that same big loud opinion but,
Nobody’s listening,
Washed up and ranting about the same old bitter things,
Drunk and grumbling on about how I can’t sing.
But all you are is mean,
All you are is mean.
And a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life,
And mean, and mean, and mean, and mean
But someday, I’ll be, living in a big old city,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean. Yeah,
Someday, I’ll be big enough so you can’t hit me,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so ?
Someday, I’ll be, living in a big old city,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean. Yeah,
Someday, I’ll be big enough so you can’t hit me,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so mean?
And swords and weapons that you use against me,
You, have knocked me off my feet again,
Got me feeling like I’m nothing.
You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard
Calling me out when I’m wounded.
You, pickin’ on the weaker man.
Well you can take me down,
With just one single blow.
But you don’t know, what you don’t know,
Someday, I’ll be living in a big old city,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean.
Someday, I’ll be big enough so you can’t hit me,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so mean?
You, with your switching sides,
And your walk by lies and your humiliation
You, have pointed out my flaws again,
As if I don’t already see them.
I walk with my head down,
Trying to block you out cause I’ll never impress you
I just wanna feel okay again.
I bet you got pushed around,
Somebody made you cold,
But the cycle ends right now,
You can’t lead me down that road,
You don’t know, what you don’t know
Someday, I’ll be, living in a big old city,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean.
Someday, I’ll be big enough so you can’t hit me,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so mean?
And I can see you years from now in a bar,
Talking over a football game,
With that same big loud opinion but,
Nobody’s listening,
Washed up and ranting about the same old bitter things,
Drunk and grumbling on about how I can’t sing.
But all you are is mean,
All you are is mean.
And a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life,
And mean, and mean, and mean, and mean
But someday, I’ll be, living in a big old city,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean. Yeah,
Someday, I’ll be big enough so you can’t hit me,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so ?
Someday, I’ll be, living in a big old city,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean. Yeah,
Someday, I’ll be big enough so you can’t hit me,
And all you’re ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so mean?
The Truth (Prince)
When I was in the 9th grade I took English with a teacher I will never forget. I do not remember most of the content but I remember one statement that knocked my socks off. She said that each time you lie you lose a piece of yourself. By now you must know my love of the metaphor...the way I can get across what I am feeling with some pretty little picture or story. Well, I also personify. I also have quite the imagination. The world can be a very colorful place if I allow it. Then there is the extra perception that I seem to have. It was strong as a child but lately as I sift through the crap I am finding it stronger than ever. Rewind back to the statement by the teacher. Each time you lie you lose a piece of yourself....hmmm. I remember thinking of a person standing there and slowly losing actual little chunks of themselves. Disappearing right before your very eyes. Add this to twelve years of Catholic school and the B horror films of the 80's and you get one scared kid.
Now as an adult I seem to still possess the naivety and pure thinking of a child. It seems to take me so long to process the bullshit from the truth. Not the actual lies but the WHY behind them all. I go to my psychology minor in the hour of need. I understand so many of the reasons people lie. As I sit here and judge the dishonest of the world you are wondering about me and my truths. Well, let's see...as a kid did I sign some tests that my Mom should have? Yep. She didn't accept less than a 100 so in those Mommie Dearest moments where a 98 would've been an hour of yelling...I took it upon myself to spare her as well as myself. For the most part I have been a true person. Even when doing the wrongs of my life I did it with a truthfulness that did not always reward me.
But...I seem to be surrounded by the masters of the skill. They lie like they breathe. I have watched one too many Lie To Me and CSI to not see the signs. I have honed my skills for microexpressions. I have also opened my eyes to things I was not willing to see. Sometimes we lie to ourselves. But the really crazy part is that while you are lying yourself through the story you almost seem to disappear before me....growing hazy and foggy. Losing little pieces of yourself right before my eyes.
As a little girl I watched a woman dig through a bag of Scrabble letters to find the "U" for her gajillion point "Q" word. She denied it. As a teenager I found my way through every guy who had another girl on the side. So whether you are lying about the amount of money you spent on lottery tickets or lunch I seem to find out. We all know smoking pot isn't really "golfing" and napping somewhere isn't really "remodeling". Pretty sure those nasty things found in your pockets weren't from the "friend" at the bar. And all those hours spent "playing games" on the computer or "looking for a good deal"...well....I'll leave that one alone.
Do I believe sometimes you fib not to hurt someone's feelings? Maybe. I appreciate those of you who still claim I never got fat as I sit here and think about an eighty pound weight loss. Do I sometimes tell the kids that if they eat one more lollipop there teeth will fall out...yep...if it helps them eat those carrots. But when it comes down to the core...the real...the solid...the only thing that I truly value in life is honesty. It is a gift and a rare gem in this world. I am looking for the souls who are solid as they stand there before me telling me stories. It's not the honesty that is ever judged it is the deceit that finds its way in. When you are real you are a skyscraper tall and strong in front of me. When you are a liar with your fancy elaborate stories of grandeur and crazy that go on and on like some rambling run on sentence when you try to impress me with this and that and everything in between and sometimes you even get props like tape measures and supplies that you will need....well...you get the picture. I lose you. I won't believe that you can lie to me like that. I won't believe that you can lie to others like that. I just don't think in those patterns. What I can do is open my eyes and train myself. It's a sad realization and an even sadder process. Whatever would we do if we just used up all of that creativity on something good? What if you put those skills to a greater purpose? What if you didn't have to forget so much because the truth is usually pretty easy to keep track of?
I wanted to go with Billy Joel here. Honesty. It seemed too obvious and not angry enough but he says it so nicely: "Honesty is such a lonely word. Everyone is so untrue. Honesty is hardly ever heard. And mostly what I need from you."
Now as an adult I seem to still possess the naivety and pure thinking of a child. It seems to take me so long to process the bullshit from the truth. Not the actual lies but the WHY behind them all. I go to my psychology minor in the hour of need. I understand so many of the reasons people lie. As I sit here and judge the dishonest of the world you are wondering about me and my truths. Well, let's see...as a kid did I sign some tests that my Mom should have? Yep. She didn't accept less than a 100 so in those Mommie Dearest moments where a 98 would've been an hour of yelling...I took it upon myself to spare her as well as myself. For the most part I have been a true person. Even when doing the wrongs of my life I did it with a truthfulness that did not always reward me.
But...I seem to be surrounded by the masters of the skill. They lie like they breathe. I have watched one too many Lie To Me and CSI to not see the signs. I have honed my skills for microexpressions. I have also opened my eyes to things I was not willing to see. Sometimes we lie to ourselves. But the really crazy part is that while you are lying yourself through the story you almost seem to disappear before me....growing hazy and foggy. Losing little pieces of yourself right before my eyes.
As a little girl I watched a woman dig through a bag of Scrabble letters to find the "U" for her gajillion point "Q" word. She denied it. As a teenager I found my way through every guy who had another girl on the side. So whether you are lying about the amount of money you spent on lottery tickets or lunch I seem to find out. We all know smoking pot isn't really "golfing" and napping somewhere isn't really "remodeling". Pretty sure those nasty things found in your pockets weren't from the "friend" at the bar. And all those hours spent "playing games" on the computer or "looking for a good deal"...well....I'll leave that one alone.
Do I believe sometimes you fib not to hurt someone's feelings? Maybe. I appreciate those of you who still claim I never got fat as I sit here and think about an eighty pound weight loss. Do I sometimes tell the kids that if they eat one more lollipop there teeth will fall out...yep...if it helps them eat those carrots. But when it comes down to the core...the real...the solid...the only thing that I truly value in life is honesty. It is a gift and a rare gem in this world. I am looking for the souls who are solid as they stand there before me telling me stories. It's not the honesty that is ever judged it is the deceit that finds its way in. When you are real you are a skyscraper tall and strong in front of me. When you are a liar with your fancy elaborate stories of grandeur and crazy that go on and on like some rambling run on sentence when you try to impress me with this and that and everything in between and sometimes you even get props like tape measures and supplies that you will need....well...you get the picture. I lose you. I won't believe that you can lie to me like that. I won't believe that you can lie to others like that. I just don't think in those patterns. What I can do is open my eyes and train myself. It's a sad realization and an even sadder process. Whatever would we do if we just used up all of that creativity on something good? What if you put those skills to a greater purpose? What if you didn't have to forget so much because the truth is usually pretty easy to keep track of?
I wanted to go with Billy Joel here. Honesty. It seemed too obvious and not angry enough but he says it so nicely: "Honesty is such a lonely word. Everyone is so untrue. Honesty is hardly ever heard. And mostly what I need from you."
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Morning Song... (Dinner at Eight · Rufus Wainright)
I'm at a loss of words. I'm staring at a screen and waiting for just the right sentences to form themselves as I type. I heard this song this morning on my ipod and knew it would mean something to me later on. I had no idea...
No matter how strong
I'm gonna take you down
With one little stone
I'm gonna break you down
And see what you're worth
What you're really worth to me
Dinner at eight was okay
Before the toast full of gleams
It was great until those old magazines
Got us started up again
Actually it was probably me again
Why is it so
That I've always been the one who must go
That I've always been the one told to flee
When it fact you were the one long ago
Actually in the drifting white snow
You left me
So put up your fists and I'll put up mine
No running away from the scene of the crime
God's chosen a place
Somewhere near the end of the world
Somewhere near the end of our lives
But 'til then no, Daddy, don't be surprised
If I wanna see the tears in your eyes
Then I know it had to be long ago
Actually in the drifting white snow
You loved me
No matter how strong
I'm gonna take you down
With one little stone
I'm gonna break you down
And see what you're worth
What you're really worth to me
No matter how strong
I'm gonna take you down
With one little stone
I'm gonna break you down
And see what you're worth
What you're really worth to me
Dinner at eight was okay
Before the toast full of gleams
It was great until those old magazines
Got us started up again
Actually it was probably me again
Why is it so
That I've always been the one who must go
That I've always been the one told to flee
When it fact you were the one long ago
Actually in the drifting white snow
You left me
So put up your fists and I'll put up mine
No running away from the scene of the crime
God's chosen a place
Somewhere near the end of the world
Somewhere near the end of our lives
But 'til then no, Daddy, don't be surprised
If I wanna see the tears in your eyes
Then I know it had to be long ago
Actually in the drifting white snow
You loved me
No matter how strong
I'm gonna take you down
With one little stone
I'm gonna break you down
And see what you're worth
What you're really worth to me
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Joy loves company (Misery Loves Company · Johnny Stewart)
It's a sad realization but one I must accept. Not everyone wants you to get better...do better...be better. In many, many ways. I started to see this in people a long time ago but kept my head down and pushed my way through the crowd of the miserable. As changes are being made and I am becoming less tolerable of the doom and gloom of many...it is becoming very clear. People don't always want you to succeed. In your happiness they see their own sadness. In your accomplishments they see their own failures. In your optimism they see their own misery. The list goes on and on.
From a young age I was trained to think this was fine. The minute things were too good for me someone slapped me down about it. I was made to feel badly about anything that I had or did even if it was because I earned it with good hard work and dedication. I was made to feel guilty about being everything from too skinny or too smart....to finding love or a good job. Friends, families, partners, etc all just waiting to chop down the feeling of pride with a quick cut that would return me to the cruel real world.
As a grown woman on a new path to the life that I really want I am no longer allowing this. I stood there yesterday analyzing the wonderful day that I was having. I was wondering what thing would go wrong to balance out the luck and fun of it all. I was questioning if I "deserved" such goodness. A dear woman reminded me that it was just fine. We deserved it. We earned it. She was right. Another dear friend of mine has been teaching me to accept the good of life as well as the bad. She shared an abundance mantra with me that has been slowly but surely coming to fruition. I am retraining my brain to accept that I can indeed have good things happen and it is okay. Maybe a sad thing to have to train myself to do but with awareness and practice I think I am on the right path.
I have a heart that wants the best for people. Score a great new job, find the love of your life, win big at the casino...guess who is sooooooo excited for you? Genuinely? Truly? Me. I want good to happen to and for you because that's what you do when you care about someone. You want the best for them. Selfless is hard. Loving can be challenging. Giving is an effort. But anything decent in this world is. My next step is to surround myself with the people who are generous of spirit and time. Those that are happy to share in your joy. The few who know you deserved the outcome you worked so hard for. The true fans of your life. They are rare. But then again when something is rare it is usually much more precious. I will be grateful to those support systems. I will give thanks to the those who listen to the sad and horrible as well as smile through the stories of fun and blessings. I am grateful to those of you who have been there when I needed you and not just when you needed me.
One of my best buddies wears a necklace of a circle that symbolizes karma. She believes in it. I always have as well. Put out good...get good back. I will continue to spend time and energy on those that believe the same things as me. I will love them and want the best for them and I will allow them to train me that it is just fine to get it back as well. Thank you...you all know who you are!
From a young age I was trained to think this was fine. The minute things were too good for me someone slapped me down about it. I was made to feel badly about anything that I had or did even if it was because I earned it with good hard work and dedication. I was made to feel guilty about being everything from too skinny or too smart....to finding love or a good job. Friends, families, partners, etc all just waiting to chop down the feeling of pride with a quick cut that would return me to the cruel real world.
As a grown woman on a new path to the life that I really want I am no longer allowing this. I stood there yesterday analyzing the wonderful day that I was having. I was wondering what thing would go wrong to balance out the luck and fun of it all. I was questioning if I "deserved" such goodness. A dear woman reminded me that it was just fine. We deserved it. We earned it. She was right. Another dear friend of mine has been teaching me to accept the good of life as well as the bad. She shared an abundance mantra with me that has been slowly but surely coming to fruition. I am retraining my brain to accept that I can indeed have good things happen and it is okay. Maybe a sad thing to have to train myself to do but with awareness and practice I think I am on the right path.
I have a heart that wants the best for people. Score a great new job, find the love of your life, win big at the casino...guess who is sooooooo excited for you? Genuinely? Truly? Me. I want good to happen to and for you because that's what you do when you care about someone. You want the best for them. Selfless is hard. Loving can be challenging. Giving is an effort. But anything decent in this world is. My next step is to surround myself with the people who are generous of spirit and time. Those that are happy to share in your joy. The few who know you deserved the outcome you worked so hard for. The true fans of your life. They are rare. But then again when something is rare it is usually much more precious. I will be grateful to those support systems. I will give thanks to the those who listen to the sad and horrible as well as smile through the stories of fun and blessings. I am grateful to those of you who have been there when I needed you and not just when you needed me.
One of my best buddies wears a necklace of a circle that symbolizes karma. She believes in it. I always have as well. Put out good...get good back. I will continue to spend time and energy on those that believe the same things as me. I will love them and want the best for them and I will allow them to train me that it is just fine to get it back as well. Thank you...you all know who you are!
Monday, June 6, 2011
Hushing my vibe (It's Oh So Quiet · Bjork)
It seems that Playlist has decided to cease the automatic song start and will now require you to press play. I know the music on blogs annoys some people and when I read "The Top 10 Blog No No's" it mentioned how music was bad. BUT that is a major part of my crumbling. Sometimes the song inspires the actual post. Other times I search for just the right tune. Others its just right there. Now, I guess you have to release the notes so that they may accompany my words. Since this is the case I have decided to change the titles to include the song that is meant to go with it. I know some of you seem to be catching up on the weekends or get to it when you get to it so this way you will know the flavor I am setting up with my story...if you should so choose of course. The song is usually number one with the new post because I arrange it that way. You can read in silence. Pffffft. Carry on.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Summer is beckoning (Vienna · Billy Joel)
I am in a constant flurry of "doing". I am doing this or getting this done...always. The moment I am not I am either coming up for the line of defense to protect myself or I am beating myself up. This summer will be about breathing. I have been holding my breath and the knots in my shoulders for too long. For years. Forever. I will take in the moment. I will go on adventures. I will practice shutting off the to do lists and chore charts. The house might have dirty spots and the flower boxes on the porch might be empty...but that's okay. I still have a ton of serious business to tend to but I will do it in between things that charge my spirit and fuel my soul...
stolen swims · walks with the pooch · hikes · drives to nowhere · bowls of cherries · music loud and sunroof open · dances with my kids · video games on rainy days · adventures in the kitchen · peeling corn husks · reading by a lake · sandcastles · watching butterflies · visiting family · catching up with friends · tall glasses of iced tea · tan skin · power naps · fairs and carnivals · the demolition derby · pies full of fruit · the taste of the grill · porch swingin' · tall sunflowers · drives along the scenic route....
That last one sums it all up. It's taking the scenic route not just on a road but in life. Slowing down...catching my breath and living. The summer always makes it seem easier to do. This summer, after many challenging ones, I will feel summer. Feel it for what it really is. A warm breeze on a sunny day with a glass of lemonade in an Adirondack chair are all waiting for me...
stolen swims · walks with the pooch · hikes · drives to nowhere · bowls of cherries · music loud and sunroof open · dances with my kids · video games on rainy days · adventures in the kitchen · peeling corn husks · reading by a lake · sandcastles · watching butterflies · visiting family · catching up with friends · tall glasses of iced tea · tan skin · power naps · fairs and carnivals · the demolition derby · pies full of fruit · the taste of the grill · porch swingin' · tall sunflowers · drives along the scenic route....
That last one sums it all up. It's taking the scenic route not just on a road but in life. Slowing down...catching my breath and living. The summer always makes it seem easier to do. This summer, after many challenging ones, I will feel summer. Feel it for what it really is. A warm breeze on a sunny day with a glass of lemonade in an Adirondack chair are all waiting for me...
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