New release from Goose, a band that has started to grow on me. It's an inspirational little movie and a gentle reminder that we evolved from shrews. Well played, Goose!
This thought came to me predawn:
Instead of an umbrella, I will hold up a mirror.
Not sure who needs to hear that today-- but there it is.
My intuition guides me and I trust it when making decisions. I learned that trying to control things always backfires for me. It's a delicate dance between control and letting go. A rubber band, no? Is it all predetermined or just chance? What is the old saying-- Man plans, God laughs? There has to be some truth to that. We have a finite number of days on this earth and part of the reason I jumped off the crazy train was to "live deliberately and intensely" as Whitman so aptly put it.
If you think about life and the good years, why do we toil endlessly at our jobs and then upon retiring can no longer do the things we wanted to do? Cancer strikes, dementia, our knees go, our mind goes, and we have nothing to show for it.
Maybe I was a fool for getting out early. I know that the next chapter is going to start soon.
Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois produced this incredible album when U2 was what kept me alive. I would add this one to my mixed tapes, as it evokes so much passion.
Today is my first day technically "off" since before Thanksgiving. Sadly, the weather didn't want to cooperate, offering a case of the SAD blues, so I lit a fire. Today is my last day of Sensory Analysis, and I have just one paper to complete for the class. I am sitting at a 97% and honestly don't care if I don't ace this one. In truth, I have learned a lot-- but I have been so busy with work that I feel much of it didn't take. Is this what retired people do all day? I don't like it all that much.
I've had more time to read this year compared to year's past, which was something that I wanted to work on. The book I am reading for club is meh.
The Correspondent by Virginia Evans is written in letters that lay out her story. Clever idea but I just don't like the protagonist all that well. I'll keep reading in the hopes it gets better.
Lost Man's Lane by Scott Carson (Michael Koryta), now THAT was a story. Our club is actually thinking about starting his new release, The Chill.
Earlier this fall I completed James by Percival Everett and thoroughly enjoyed it.
I heard an interview on Stephen Colbert with Jesiut priest Father James Martin and his new book, Work in Progress, which I need to tend to. Lastly, my media specialist gives me books for My Free Library and this one looked like a good read:
New York Times Bestseller In Five Years, by Rebecca Serle. So lots to read!
This is the time of year when I start to research places I would love to visit. With spring break coming up, it would be so nice to get away to someplace warm. I miss the ocean. I miss gliding through the water effortlessly. I miss....
Okay, I get it now. I'll just leave it here to rewatch later. My sister got to do her art in India last year, lucky duck. I should talk to her about that experience. I know it was life changing--but how much? It has been too long since I took a pilgramage to a far away place. just me. Getting lost in the country, in the culture, in the people, losing myself.
I hope the Legacy Award comes through for me. I have terrible Wanderlust.
While in London (the first time) I wanted to disappear. I didn't want to look American. I was there for a month, never spoke, for fear my accent would give me away, cut my hair, changed my clothes, smoked clove cigarettes and drank red wine in my flat.
I was training for a triathlon, so my day started with a jog from Bayswater through Kensington Gardens and then a swim and lift at the Y. I would order my flat white coffee take away and then plan my tour of the city, catching as many shows as I could. I think the most inspiring thing I saw was Stonehenge. So many mysterious stories about those rocks. It had me asking--why were they put there but, more importantly, why was I put here? Still working on both of those questions today.
I thoroughly loved the concept of Eat, Pray, Love and when times were rough, considered doing a similar trip-- I think I still will when the timing is right.
It took a 2-month leave of absence, Postpartem depression, and a legal separation to get me to Mexico for my first surrender trip. My boss was the one to suggest it. So from December 9 thru February 14 (OH IRONY, YOU SLAY!) I was in healing mode.
The first week I was off work, I tried to check myself into Meadows. I was there one day and saw some students that I knew from school, and a lot of serious mental health patients and said, "maybe I need a different kind of healing."
I had a weekly regimen of acupuncture, healing bowls, Reiki, workouts (where half the time I would just lay on the stretching mat and stare at the celing) and at the time daily thearpy, followed by a glass of wine at Uptown (before it was rennovated) or a vodka tonic at Trojan Horse.
There is a waitress that still works the bar at Tro-Ho that remembers me from those lost days. I had a drink there a few weeks ago and we had a great exchange. I can tell she liked me and is glad I am no longer in that painful space.
My apartment at the time was a low rent in Basswood (I called it Asswood). All the freaks and fairies lived out there at the time. I wasn't sure if I was going to be robbed or raped trying to get into that crappy apartment. I moved out the following May--hoping for a better place to raise my then 3 year old kid.
Back to Mexico. My boss suggested I go. He said, go to the beach, girl. Get better.
So I did. MLK jr weekend I booked a flight and stayed in a tiny little place in Playa del Carmen before they ruined it with those huge touristy all inclusives. The entrance was just a sandy trail and I stayed in a Cabana just footsteps from the ocean. I spent my days walking the shore and reading. It was a nice get-away, but I think now, I would have to join an ashram to really do the deep dive.
Someday.
Post Script:
My last Mayan ruin stop is Tulum. I've seen the ancient ruins of Caba twice and also have seen the ruins on Cozumel Is. My last stop is Tulum, where I found an Au Naturel Hidden resort! Who is in? (sorry I can't make this link work--you'll have to copy paste).
How 'bout them Hoosiers...Ugh. What a terrible loss last night. The boys just can't rebound..or shoot!
This weekend I watched this documentary about Paul (and Linda) and it gave me more appreciation for his musical journey. When at the rock and roll hall of fame, I picked up a McCartney t-shirt but usually wear it to bed. I think I'll do more promoting and wear it out more.
Another two hour delay today gives me precious time to hit the Y in the AM and knock out some miles on the treadmill. The weather this week is going to suck and my 6 mile run is Saturday. I really want to get outside! So, off I go.
Boy, are we having a WAG THE DOG moment now or what? If you've seen the movie (and I recommend that you do), what we are seeing is TEN TIMES WORSE than the comedy plays at.
Hey. It's been awhile.
I heard this song yesterday while driving. I played this record a lot. I had this bass line down, but it was tough. I think now it would hurt too much to play. I actually listened to the lyrics for the first time in awhile, ouch.
Where to start. And who to start WITH?
The guy who didn't pay his taxes in two years, and also forgot to renew his license plate? He got pulled over while we were on a date and the cop almost hauled him to the station. This guy also pissed me off by throwing a banana peel out my car window, when I specifically told him to wait until we got to our destination, but he did it anyway. Then he lost his wallet in the grass (we were at some outdoor event) and threatened to walk home.
The guy who almost got arrested for trying to get into the White House lawn while hopped up on opium and then gave me the cold shoulder the rest of the trip for not sticking up for him to the cop? (He also left me in The Smithsonian with my luggage locked in a locker that he had the key and left me stranded in D.C. to get home on my own.
That was a fun dude. I'm pretty sure his father(he was much older) was in the Nazi party and he learned some serious mind fucking torture games from him. He used them on me constantly.
Now, as I write this, both of these guys were pretty deceptive. Smart as hell, but manipulative AF.
And I haven't even told you about the narcisist.
All three of these guys fall into a strange pattern for me. I seemed to date people that had the same birthdays. The lucky numbers were October 5-7, December 4-5 and February 14-15. I've dated at least 3 people from each of these numbers--and married 2 from them. Strange, huh?
Thought that time was on your side/
But now it's time the avenger.
Hope you are well...
Ah a winter wonderland! I open the front door and the snow is falling silently, softly. Nature's beauty at its finest. And a 2-hour delay offers me time to write (finally!). I've been thinking about a few things to share. Not sure if it's too raw and real though.
Confessions of a Serial Dater
I have been considering writing a series about the men I dated and the trauma that came from it-- also, shining a light on how some men abuse their status and power, hang-ups, porn, online dating woes and a relationship that eventually led to my decison to stop dating altogether-- a 5 year hyatus. Yeah, some messed up shit. Sound interesting?
Another topic that I'd like to write about is my mom. I might start there today since she drunk called me last night.
Parents always say they don't have favorites, but I think most of them do. Lucky for me I only had one--and when you do it right the first time (or get divorced when she is 2) you don't need to have another. Well, I am the favorite. I may not be the one who files her taxes or takes her to the doctor, but I am the one she tells her secrets to. I am the fun daughter.
Yes, there is resentment from the other two. To be fair, I didn't choose to be the favorite-- it was circumstance that caused it. Plus, I look just like mom and we have the same quiet disposition. Plus, we both endured a lot of crap from our spouses. Only difference is I chose to leave.
And she stayed.
While I know her religion dictated that she couldn't leave a bad marriage, she was also of a generation that didn't know how to do those hard things. Dad threatened to take everything and leave us broke and destitute. I doubt that he would have--but it was enough to keep up the charade for many unhealthy and unhappy years.
Mom is down to 104 pounds now. When she called she was making home-made spaghetti sauce. Ok, so I know I didn't get the cooking gene and I like to say it skips generations (although my sisters are both amazing cooks), why on earth at 84 years old do you need to make home-made spaghetti sauce when you can just open a jar and heat it up? Just saying.
Anyway, I worry from afar and know that I will miss those calls, where she is beaming with pride telling all her friends what I am doing and what I have done. She loves to brag about me.
I will miss her when I have a question about gardening and I know that she would have the answer. Speaking of gardens--my girl texted me yesterday and said she wants to plant a garden. (Now I get to be the excited one). When Lilly was growing up, I taught her all of the things my mom did about herbs and growing veggies and flowers. We had a garden plot at our church where in the summer months I would take her up and teach her about how to maintain the plants--the labor of love that comes from weeding and watering. I would quiz her on the herbs and even would teach her about how to identify tree leaves--specifically sassafras-- and we would make tea with them. I told mom about it--and she was so happy to hear of Lilly's interest that she cried. Glad that I make her so happy.
This post is all over the place. I wanted to talk about the song I posted (you should really take a listen to these songs!). I found Marc Broussard in my DJ days, and he was on my mind this morning. I googled him and he is on tour--and nearby! When I first heard him I was stunned by his soulful voice--I almost thought he was Black. But he has such range-- blues to jazz-- You should check out more of his stuff! I hope to get tickets to the Lexington concert.
Here's hoping that you are practicing some self-care. I doubt that you are--so sending big love your way.
I'm not one to brag, but I am just a little bit today.
Feeling the good feels today here at work. I walk around and see the gratitude on all the faces. The smiles and appreciation for me are real. And it feels good to be respected. When I worked here in the past, it was a different feeling. Maybe I was so stressed out and stuck in my own shit to notice--but I think my coleagues really do think I'm something of a wonder. I can walk tall and proud. I know what I am doing. I am connected to this place. It still feels like home.
Just watched a great show on Netflix called Danny Collins starring Al Pacino, that is loosely based on a true story. Premise: After reading an interview by Danny Collins in a magazine, John Lennon wrote a letter to Collins (British musician Steve Tilston).
Tilston, who is the real-life inspiration for Pacino's Collins, was unaware of the letter's existence until 2005, at which time he was contacted by an American collector who owned the letter. Based on the true story of musician Steve Tilston, who received a letter from John Lennon 34 years late (in the movie it is 40 years). Danny seeks redemption by leaving behind his glamorous, empty life to find authentic connections and write new music.He rethinks his life, wondering how things would have been different for him if he received the letter at the time--what choices he would have made given Lennon's advice.
I think about my life, and I wonder what if I stayed on the path I was on, where would I be now. I don't think I would be as happy. I also wonder if I were to receive a letter by someone I admired, even if it were to arrive decades later, how would I react.
The soundtrack includes 9 Lennon songs. Pacino kills the role.
The snow falling outside is lovely. Once chores are completed, I am building a fire-- one of my favorite pastimes in winter. There is nothing like the sounds and smells of a crackling fire.
I haven't felt motivated to do much as of late. I think it might be some low grade depression. Not the best time for it, as my class is winding down and I have about 7 wine write ups to do. Those tastings started in January, and I have no idea what I tasted back then.
We went looking for kitties yesterday. It feels like a bit of a betrayal looking for a replacement so soon. I saw a few that were sweet, but I'm not ready just yet. I am holding a place for Perc.
So much to do today. That's what happens when you decide to enjoy your weekend and then wait to the last day to do all of the life maintenance crap. One more week of class for me--then what?
Good lyrics here. Great song. Has it been 7 months? Feels like an eternity.
as the Seasons roll on by
We go from a sunny 70 degree day back to frigid winter. The trees are starting to bud out and the bulbs are popping up. I hope the cold snap doesn't kill the new growth. You can always tell that spring is around the corner when there is an uptick of skunk spraying around town.
I am ready for new life and new beginnings. What about you?
Going to play some records and drink a little red wine tonight before the Hoosiers take on Purdue. Let's Go!
Today was one of those unusual days when I was thinking of an artist while driving to work, and when I changed the channel, that artist was playing. I thought, oh, well that's a coincidence and went on with the day.
But after the workout while driving home, it happened again--same song, same artist!
I love that musicians are standing up and writing/performing protest songs. First Bruce with "Streets of Minneapolis" and now U2 with "American Obituary." I personally like the Irish cover better, but you can take a side-by-side listen and decide for yourself.
How are you anyway? I miss our old playful banter. I really hope you are well.
I'm a windows down or open kind of person. Have you ever been with an A.C. person? Ugh, so awful. They HAVE to have the AC on, can't stand fresh air. I open the windows every chance I get.
Today, driving to work I was listening to Simple Minds with the windows down. The stale, stagnant air of winter swirled the dust around and the sweet, cool dewy spring air took its place. Did I meniton that I think Spring is Sexy?
