The Shizit

The weather is foreboding outside my windows.  Remembering the videos I saw of mile-wide tornadoes in Alabama makes it so.  Wind is whipping and the branches are bending.  There is lots of howling going on on the other side of the window pane.

I have two cravings lately.  The first is for cauliflower.  It's on my mind.  I should probably just give it to myself... but that would mean I had to go into the market here... which is a Food Lion... and images of employees bleaching meat in the back have recently re-emerged.  When was that expose?  The 1990s?  Yuck.  So, I have been holding out on purchasing food.  I have a stocked pantry and fridge/freezer.  That will do.  

The other craving is Maroon 5.  I have been waking up to them lately.  Particularly 'Never Gonna Leave This Bed'.  And that is pretty funny because it makes me want to stay in the bed and never leave the bed.  I like the bed.  I am not one of those people that have an issue with sleeping, falling asleep, sitting still, napping... I can do it!  And I love doing it!  I like wrapping up in the cool sheets and letting my body heat warm them to form a cozy cocoon.  I like the air in the room to be chilly so I feel even more snugly and special in my warm space beneath the fluffiness my duvet creates.  I am not an adrenaline junkie.  I like to sit still and absorb thoughts.  I like observing art.  I especially like observing exceptional art and performances.. like Black Swan, which I just watched the other day and am still enjoying the thought of it.  I love it.  It was a simple story that was turned into just what human beings are... complex, mental, emotional creatures that have the ability of creating something gloriously beautiful while they, at the same time, eff everything in their life up!  

(When I write eff that is a stand-in for a cuss word that I'm sure you can figure out and probably use.  I am using the substitute because I realize that not everyone lives with an Italian.  In our house that word is like a term of affection.  "Get the eff outta here!!"  "What the eff is that?"  You see, this word makes those sentences sweeter somehow in this house.  If they are left out then that means to take the tone seriously and one of us is probably mad.  You should hear Nick's older brother that looks and acts totally Hollywood or Rocker.  He could probably do anything and pull it off, but he cusses almost every other word... and it sounds fabulous and hysterical.)  

Back to subject...  My favorite type of movie is something that challenges me to think from my seat and sweeps me into the plot on screen at the same time.  I like to be engaged and to watch an interactive film.  To watch just entertainment can be okay, but it is boring mostly.  If I want to laugh it can be refreshing to relax and let someone else do all the thinking... no that's a lie.  I hate that.  I hate stupid comedy.  I actually hate class clowns and people that MUST be funny at all times because they depend on the laugh they get in return.  I hate feeling obliged to laugh at their joke (or sarcasm) that isn't funny, but I must "ha,ha,ha" anyway to fill that awkward void hanging in the air between bodies. As far as professionals go- Jim Carey is the most confusing to me.  I can laugh so hard at him or be really annoyed by how silly and forced he's acting.  My favorite types of funny are... situational (Ben Stiller is so great at this.  He gets himself into such uncomfortable situations that I have to make myself NOT leave the room because I can't bare to see the embarrassment on screen!  Love that.) or witty (Comments that are snappy and require a thinking, sharp individual to produce them.  Ya know, not just a fart.  Please quit writing farts for laughs unless it's an out-of-this-world crazy place and time to fart.  I do hate the word fart.  But, that's the way it is written to be funny because it's crude and crude gets laughs, right?  I prefer toot.  It's much cuter and is the only acceptable version of the word when describing little girl toddlers who produce such.  I think Vince Vaughn can be very witty.  And he talks so fast and has that quirky laugh that cracks me up.) or dark (I like dry and dark funny people.  I'm at a blank here for a really good example but I guess I'll throw in John Malkovich or Kevin Spacey.  They are funny and can be very dark, even sinister, while they make you giggle.) humor.  I guess that says a lot about my personality.  For instance, in movie theaters I laugh at off-beats.  My dad says I always have, even when little.  I used to laugh at strange things and it was noticeable because the theater was so quiet and there was my laugh... alone in the darkness.  But, every single time, my dad's laugh followed mine.  Because, he thought it was funny that I thought something was funny and was laughing when no one else was.  So he laughed at that.  I did that the other day when watching The Tourist with friends.  All the Russian gangsters hit the floor, shot dead in slow motion through huge glass windows from an across-the-street stake out.  And standing very beautifully, unscathed and in love are Angelina and Johnny.  Hahaha.  That's so funny.  It was mostly the way it was shot.  It was so over the top dramatic and of course we know how it's going to play out so I thought the director was attempting to make it sort-of comedic.  It was a comedy, right? ;)  I think I've already written that.  It wasn't long ago so it's fresh on my mind.

Oh my gosh, do you know what other thing is blistering me when watching movies and television.  It is the dumbed-down, obvious, cliche' lines writers insert to make some political point about their opposing party.  Give us all a break!  Please!  We're begging.  I mean, these are mostly liberal/Democratic jabs at the conservative/Republican party.  We all get that.  But, really, when one character describes a generous act of kindness from Joe-Blow and the other character says "But, he's a Republican!" with astonishment... or the villan is always a Republican, or Bree from Desperate Housewives doesn't even like to have sex... why?  Oh, yeh, because "I'm a Republican!!  Gasp!".  Boring.  Writers, heads up, this tactic is boring the EFF out of America.  Especially the ones I know.  It has worked before, that's why it keeps on coming, episode after episode after episode.  Unfortunately celebrity and Hollywood is so craved that America doesn't draw the line between Smoke and Mirrors Bullshit and Real Life Importance.  Wanna be cool?  Be a Democrat.  Wanna be a dud?  Be a Republican.  Or visa versa.  Are you cooky?  You must be a Democrat.  Are you sensible?  You must be a Republican.  It's so absurd.  But here's my chance to voice my opinion.  "Eh, hem... America (especially the Americans I know) is sick of the Party Food Fight in the cafeteria of the Political Elementary School you all attend!  The I'm a Republican/ I'm a Democrat game is OLD.  You are both the exact same asshole.  What has ever really changed with either of you.  You have both royally EFFED up our country.   I vote you all out.  Get out.  Gosh, I wish I made the rules for a day.  I'd elect Ron Paul and we may have a chance to survive this mess these old geezers have created for us.  At this point I feel that if we do not elect Ron Paul- a representative that actually reads, and follows the Constitution (what a concept!)- we get what we deserve.  And that will be a whole bunch of ugliness.  For instance, if this country was as infatuated with a looker and an orator back in the day as we are now... Thomas Jefferson would never have been elected to much of anything.  Why?  Because he didn't like speaking.  He was a thinker, not merely a speaker (or reader).  I want America to quit blinking and breathing and remaining oblivious to a lot of news that is in our face (like the dollar-  it's collapsing) and elect an actual person who is consistent, who is not a hypocrite (a Washington rarity) and who doesn't make up all the ideas as he goes.  Instead, he reads the Constitution.  If you vote according to Hannity... I feel sorry for us all.  He can't even win a debate on his own show.  He repeats himself like a parrot.  "Here's my 1,2,3 points I say over and over as I count them on my 1,2,3 fingers!  Then I throw a Nerf ball off stage like a dork!"  I'd put up with that ridiculous sign off he was even half-way worth listening to.  But, I gag when I hear him now.  And that's all over FOX.  And CNN too.  Has beens.  It's been revealed that baby-boomers may be hanging on to their news channels, but the new generations have caught on.  We get that you are big corporations.  We get that you are a business.  You have an agenda.  You are not the NEWS.  We go to other reliable and unbiased sources.  (I'd be happy to suggest some if anyone is interested.) Ask around.  Ask a thirty-something if they believe an ounce of what CNN or Fox reports.  Nada.  That will be the answer.  Thank God for that.

I'm typically tolerant and don't push my "Vote for..." on anybody.  But, I'm over that.  I'm screaming it this time around.  There are a lot of people that don't like to look stuff up, and instead of hoping they do, I'm going to say what I think to them.  Maybe, just maybe, they want to hear it.  We are at the point as a nation where we can't afford to make mistakes. 

Fox will bash Ron Paul because he's not a Fascist and CNN will bash Ron Paul because he's not a Communist.  And that's why I like him.  He's what we're supposed to be as Americans- a follower of our Constitution.  

And quite frankly- neither children, excuse me, neither Republicans nor Democrats have a solid, substantial, sensible argument against him.  Why?  Because he follows our Constitution and doesn't act as dictator, making rules up as he goes and having us all pay the price for it.

Do you know what Bush said about the Constitution?  That it was "just a piece of paper."  All of you Bush lovers hate me right now.  But, he did his part to ruin this country and take our liberties and he made everyone think it was for their own good.  He made everyone think being a Patriot is to give away your freedom.  (And Obama is on the same track.  He's made absolutely nothing better.  Has he?  What can anybody think of that is a truth and not a lie or a skewed statistic politically implanted to mislead?  Obama is Bush on steroids.  They both are on a fast track of "Crash and Burn America".)  

"If freedom means not having liberties, then I'm okay with that."  That's an actual comment from a stupid by-stander who drank the Kool-Aid.  Isn't it amazing how propoganda works?  Well, I'm not cool with that.  I'm not cool with many, many things that the Patriot Act makes law & strips from Americans.  Thomas Jefferson would fight these Patriot Act-pushers.  He would.  No doubt. He would fight the Federal Reserve and he would fight the Patriot Act.  And Thomas Jefferson is, well, probably this country's hero if we had to name one person.  I'm sick of losers off the street, unqualified individuals, becoming TSA officers and reserving the right to fondle Americans or view them completely naked... meanwhile the machine used is not effective at what it is proclaimed to do. (Maybe we should follow that money trail too... you guessed it! Michael Chertoff, former Secretary of Homeland Security and co-author of the Patriot Act and an advocate for body scanners.  Not only was he an advocate for them, he purchased them while in his position.  Now guess who gets paid for them.  Drum Roll... Michael Chertoff!! Rapid Scan Systems is a client of his consulting firm, The Chertoff Group.  Lined pockets my friends.  That is what 'We the People' really means- 'Line my Pockets'.)  That is not acceptable.  I'm not cool with the government's ability to track my every call, text, email, location from my cell phone and it remain stored for them to tap into at any time they choose.  I am not cool with the new questions they are asking "the selected Americans" when passports are requested.  I am not lying to you... one of them is "Are you circumcised?"... Is that okay with you all?  Or is it okay with you if it doesn't affect you directly at the moment?  Is it okay with you if get to keep watching American Idol and slurping on aspartame (another scam that was illegal until Donald Rumsfeld pushed it through to line his own pockets)? Because if it was you or your kid, my bet is on it NOT being cool with you.  The list of examples of jaw-dropping laws goes on and on.  It is probably why my muscles are in knots.  I read these FACTS that most Americans don't have a clue about (because CNN or FOX didn't feature them) and get super-duper tense.  

Breathe.

I am going to sum it up and not take this to a new level with a rant-a-thon.

Vote Ron Paul.  

In baby boomer lingo "He's a Patriot."

In thirty-something lingo "He's the only one who's saving your ass from absolute disaster."

In I-am-just-legal-to-vote lingo "He's the shizit."

Speaking of shizit...

I have realized a new personal protection device and strategy.  As I walk my 3 dogs I often daydream.  Recently, I thought about what would happen to an attacker if they approached me.  I thought, My dogs would be a deterrent.  China will scream and probably bite them.  Selma can do whatever she wants to them because she's a massive muscle and I hope she would choose to eat them.  And Honey Te'a would chase them and it would be her choice if she caught them or not because she is quick like lightning.  And me?  What would I do?  It's genius really.  I am a responsible dog-owner which means I have about two pounds of dog dung in a plastic bag, knotted and hanging from my hand until I reach a trash can (And there's always more where that came from!  I have three producers.).  I bet it would be a surprise to any ill-intender if I slung it around old-lady-bag style and whacked them right in the face with it.  It's such a positive to a negative thing.  Two negative things: the ill-intender and the poop I have to tote.  Think about it... squished poop on the face... the smell alone would stop them in their tracks.  I am packin' heat and didn't even know it!!

Oh my gosh, I have to go, I've been at this too long.  I'm sure there is more to say, like to figure out who made up the word shizit... was it Snoop?  Mr. Snoop Doggie Dogg.  Smooooth talkin' Snoop.  Ugh, I'm delirious all of a sudden.

I'm going to go eat some gnocchi and relax from the political frustration I have induced on myself.  You'll hear from me though.  Because earlier in the week I was reminded of some great Thomas Jefferson quotes and I thought that I would post them every now and then.  They are interesting and I love Thomas Jefferson.  I do.                                    

Oh, I promised a friend I'd keep up the chat about music.  Lately, I have listened to this song repeatedly 'Big Jet Plane' (acoustic) by Angus and Julia Stone.  It is lovely. Here it is.  I am including my favorite version, the acoustic version, first and then the official music video next.

Acoustic

Official Video

And Nick gave me a nice surprise after I kept the boutique on Tuesday.  I came home and he had dinner ready and Jane's Addiction playing.  There was some head banging at our table.  Revisit Jane's Addiction if you haven't listened to them lately.  Here's one I really like- "Stop".  And I LOVED Nick's performance of it complete with the Spanish introduction.  To me, he is ultra sexy when speaking languages I don't know.  Especially while I eat pasta he made for me. 

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZwI02OHtZTg&feature=related

Click on it... I had issues...

Tornado warnings here... gotta go.

This week's highlights...

Why is basil so impossible for me?  My husband calls me The Great Basil Killer.  He jinxed me.  Now, I can't keep it alive or fresh for more than a day.  It's very upsetting considering I view basil as a simple but fine luxury in my life.  Caprese sandwich, mmm.  Pizza Margherita, oh my heavens.  Pesto linguini with toasted pine nuts and cherry tomatoes, my eyes just rolled back in my head.  Delicious.  Basil, oh basil, please be my friend again.

This week has turned into a nature camp for me.  I have saved two baby turtles, conducted a funeral ceremony for a frog who had stretched out in prayer position and died (I returned him to the pond and he floated on his back with his little frog fingers clasped together like "namaste" while the big tadpoles swam below the surface.), I saw a snake, spoke to a man who petted a snake (no joke), saw a beaver, transplanted snails, watched the birds, scared yelping bullfrogs that kerplunked into the creek to hide from me, and marveled as a bunny rabbit ran away from one dog, skidded right by my three- luckily on leashes- and into the woods again.  Oh, and I dodged the five million squirrels that live in Edenton.  It has been an impressive exhibition.

Yesterday, I spent a portion of my afternoon baby-sitting my little pal Henry.  He's not quite a year and a half old.  He slept until the very end and then we had shake-your-maraca dance party.  His mommy pulled up and once he saw her it was Bye-Bye Beth.  This little lad loves his mama.   

Excuse me... sorry, I was just interrupted by a call from someone who got my name and number from a hotel registration and was telling me in a frantic way about a right-this-second promotional vacation.  I'm so over it.  "Really, give me your website, or email address, or phone number and I'll get back to you."  "Oh, no ma'am, we can't do that because if you call in two hours we won't be here.  I can't let you off the line because it's a secure connection and we'll be liable.  Blah, blah, blah."  I don't buy your sense of urgency madam.  I don't believe you called me from out of the blue to give me a fantastic vacation. Are these people really calling our cell phones now?  Give me the no-call list again, sign me up. 

Back to yesterday.  So, as my friend's children played throughout her house, she and I talked and on occasion were entertained by Henry.  He let us look in the  trunk of his push-truck.  Wow.  There is an eclectic mind at work.  Toys and jelly balls with tenticles, yes, but also in the mix- remote controls and child-safe bottles he asked for, and no telling what else.  He apparently finds must-have items all around the house and packs them in his trunk to take on his trips to the various rooms.  I asked, "So, when your missing things, do you head straight for Henry's truck?"  "Yep." It's so fun to observe tots.  They are full of wonderment and inventiveness.

Mark my words, this friend and I will take an exotic trip together some day.  I can see it. Eating, dancing, hiking, exploring cities, wrapping ourselves in exquisite silks... watching street artists, the whole bit.

As you all know, a horrible storm passed through the southern United States last weekend.  It was on our anniversary, actually.  (So was the Virginia Tech school shooting in 2007. Very sad.)  We watched Hereafter, an interesting but predictable and slow-paced movie that opened with a natural disaster, a tsunami.  At that moment in time, a natural disaster was in action about 10 miles from our sofa wrecking lives all over Bertie County, Chowan's neighboring county.  The aftermath is devastating.  There were many fatalities and the destruction is widespread.  I feel that there are many helpers coming forth though from all around and things will get better for these people and their families.  I hope so.  Bertie County was hit by a flood not too long ago.  And from what I hear, that was on the heels of another flood.  Maybe, there will be a nice, long break from disaster for these exhausted communities.

As a celebration for our anniversary Nick and I went to a Salt Spa in Williamsburg.  It was superb.  We relaxed in a salt cave and had massages.  Nick apparently is "a dream for people who do what I do" according to the massage therapist.  She thought he should be a trainer.  She thought he had the best muscle tissue she's encountered since she began massage in 1994.  "For someone with this much muscle mass, you are remarkably free of knots.  You must stretch and workout..." You get the picture.  I was proud to hear it though, as I stretched back in my reclining chair, inhaling salt air.  Trying to relax all of my body, I did succeed by the end of the hour, before my turn on the table.  I dozed off a time or two. I kept waking myself though.  I was cackling in my dream and then my eyes would pop open because I didn't know if I had done that for real or just in my dream.  I do that kind of sh*t all the time.  I jerk before I fall asleep sometimes.  Massive jerks.  Or sometimes I sleep on my arm until it falls asleep and is numb, I wake up, freak out because I can't feel my limb, reach over and pick it up with my other, working hand, and sling it.  Then, the deadened arm slaps me in the face.  Whack!  Ouch!  Miscalculation.  Anyway, it was then my turn to get a massage.  One minute into it and she was like "Oh. My. Gosh.  You are way over due.  I shouldn't be stopping right here (pointing to my wrist) from tension!"  She got to my shoulders and it was like a grunt fest. My knots were giving her fits.  She worked her way down to my feet... she's still baffled. "For such a little body, I can't believe you have this many issues going on!"  Now, you get this picture too.  I was an extreme opposite picture of healthy muscle mass to Nick's- I was seriously tight.  Muscle tension mania.  Sigh.  I looked up from my table at Nick, who had a sympathetic look on his face.  That quickly turned into a sly smile as he raised his fore finger into the air to show me that he, indeed, is #1.  Again.

Inhale, Exhale, Relax.  I need to tell myself, "Just breathe." I need to get back to my yoga.  I need to go exhaust my muscles by dancing until I can't dance anymore.  I not only need to do that... I want to do that.  Want is better than need.

China and Selma Lu Mela are being serenaded by a chirper as they sleep on the window seat. Curled into little balls, they snooze and sigh.  They love my writing days.  I do too.  Honey T'ea Lina spaced out two days ago and ended up getting the dreaded bath twice in one week.  (My other two run into the shower. They love it. Not the TeaLite. She freezes in fear.)  What happened was this- She was playing chase with Selma, ran into the woods which isn't a big deal because she does that sometimes, but she kept going.  Selma Lu stopped and looked back at us- she was not participating.  Then, Honey made her way all the way down to the nasty, muddy creek and stood there.  We called her.  She stood there.  (It was a while until we spotted her, she was so deep down in creek.) We kept calling.  She kept standing there, staring at us.  She must have blacked out.  She was frozen, blank.  Finally, Nick tossed a rock through the trees and into the creek to splash the water and she became unstuck, responding again to the world around her.  Then, it was straight to the shower.  Bet she won't do that again.

Last but not least- Earth, we love you.  Happy Earth Day.  And Katherine, I love you to the moon and back.  And past that even!  You are a special, wise, perceptive young lady.  I adore you with all of my heart and soul and will continue to do so forever.  Happy 10th birthday to you.  You make me proud every time I see your face. In my life's painting, you are a bright stroke.  You are a highlight.  You are a focal point.    

     

The 4.11 on April 11th

The Three Pooches
A Typical Morning Walk

I walk my three dogs now.  Not two, but three dogs.  They dance around each other nicely and I do pretty well myself, occasionally hopping over a leash or twirling to avoid being wrangled like a rodeo clown.  This is the amusing part to me.  I walk along and people, without fail, say the same words.  They are, "You've got your hands full there."  Not kidding.  The only variance is when they tack on "Looks like" before "You've got your hands full there."  Upon completing the sentence they promptly urge their dog to run over and mingle with my three.  I then have a fourth pooch to wrestle around and avoid tangling leashes with as I am dragged around at mercy to the 95 pounds or so of canine chaos.  China, the little one, weighing about 13-14 pounds somehow pulls the hardest.  She has a bit of a "little man syndrome" when on a walk and competes with the big dogs to prove she's the alpha of the group.  She has a frantic greeting with other dogs.  It's the funniest half-bark-half-scream scurry I've ever seen.  Selma Lu Mela has all the potential to be the hardest to walk, but she is less curious than she is a nervous pleaser.  Honey (Te'a Lina) is quiet and steady and focused. She really stabilizes the group so it is no problem that she has joined our walks.  She helps out as best she can.  Selma Lu has started her annual Selma vs the bumble bee saga.  She jumps, bites the air, tries to be sneaky and suddenly charge them.  She never wins.  Once when she was a wee little pup she came over to where I was sitting at a table and when I reached down to pet her chin, not looking away from my mom during our conversation, she carefully put her upper lip on my hand.  I felt it and immediately looked down at her.  It felt so unlike a lip. She looked up at me with the fattest left upper lip I have ever seen.  The bumble bee started this life-long fight apparently.  She was stung on the lip.  A dog's immune system is marvelous though, and it shrunk back to normal size in no time at all.

Have you ever heard of the Niacin Flush?  If you ever take Niacin you will know what the Flush is.  I sit here typing with skin the color of a red pepper and I am itchy and on fire.  This is the worst it has ever been hands down.  This is normal I have read and actually shows signs of progress in the body.  It's all about blood flow and detoxification.  You'll have to put it in the search engine and read up on it if you ever try Niacin- I can't recite what I read.  It lasts only a little while.  It may be gone and I may be my usual winter white self by the time I am half way into my next paragraph.  

So, today is April 11th, significant because this is the ten year anniversary of meeting my husband.  We will be married 6 years come Saturday, but this date is just as important to me.  It is the date that my world went from No-Nick to Nick. An important transition.  I am less traditional I suppose by saying this, but I value this date as much or more than a wedding anniversary date because I could have lived with Nick "like married" forever and it would have been fine with me.  I was as happy with him before as I have been after a marriage ceremony.  Our behavior didn't change nor did our loyalty and love.  So, happily married I sit, but I am sure that I would be as devoted as I am now if we weren't technically hitched.  The ceremony of it and the way marriage presents you as a couple to society- that is the main distinction that I have noticed.  But, as I have noted before, we are the type to live 'as married' with one another whether we are married or not.  Which is a hefty dynamic in a relationship.  There is so much junk that I never have had to think about in our relationship and I am so thankful for that because the drama that some people endure with the ones they love is heartbreaking to hear about.  It must be draining to deal with certain devastations regarding an unequal approach to a relationship.

First Official Date!
April of 2001- KD Luau

As for April 11, 2001- I look back at all my giddiness and the gut-feelings I had about this handsome boy I found at a bar in Athens, GA and say with delight, "It all turned out wonderfully."  The main memory I have is the eye contact.  I locked eyes with this really handsome guy across a crowd and he didn't look away.  My eyes bounced around a time or two as I contemplated whether or not he was looking at me and he did a bang-up job of answering that question because his eyes stared straight at me and didn't move.  And that confidence (and his calves) definitely got my attention.  So, he came over, leaned in to my ear and said, simply, "I'm Nick."  Voila.  Hello, Nick.  I'm in love.  I think I stuck my foot in my mouth several times during our initial conversation.  And then I kept calling him by the wrong last name every time I introduced him to a friend.  He finally spelled it for me and I had it from then on.  What can I say... I'm visual... and it was probably 2 am at least by the time I was into introductions.

The Katherine and Beth Duo

Not long after I met my love, another love came into my life.  I think I may have been the first person on Earth to see her.  (Her birthday is Earth Day too.)  I was being the loving sister that I am (eh hem, Paige) and pampering my pushing sister during her first child birth.  Shane was focused on her completely and so when the time came for Katherine's entrance something came over me and I just had to be there!  I never asked permission from my sister, which may have been nice, but I was there and it was miraculous indeed.  And from the first moment she hit light she has been a beautiful ray of light in my life.  And the same goes for Landry and Madeline.  But, I was the baby in my family.  I had never seen a fresh, new baby.  This was my first infant to claim.  I never even knew if I could do kids before then.  I had never held a baby for any substantial amount of time, never comfortably without being scared the mommy was going to snap and bite me if I did something wrong.  I had no instinct.  And every time I was shampoo shopping and a cart full of screaming kids was sharing my aisle I really thought I was going to slam my head into the shelf to put myself out of my misery.  That's the sort of uncertainty I had before Katherine.  But, she came and I couldn't get my hands on her fast enough.  I could have swallowed her my affection was so intense.  And now she is nearly 10 years old.  A special thing Katherine and I share is that she was born on the 22nd and her Life number is 11.  I was born on the 11th and my number is 22.  So, we are mates.

Before Nick and I wed in 2005 I planted the Sunday before.  I was in my garden with the back door open so that I could see the golf tournament on television.  It was Masters Sunday and Tiger won and I remember it vividly.  This past Sunday I watched the Masters (a thrilling performance by all) and was pulling for Tiger again.  I like watching him play and especially in The Masters.  I think many are afraid to root for him now given all his past personal problems, but I still do.  I am not asking him to be a spiritual leader or an elementary school principal or an elected official or anything that concerns his personal life and poor or wise decisions.  I see him for what he has offered to be publicly and that is a professional golfer and he is amazing at that job.  I must also say that people who drool over JFK scorn Tiger Woods and that is perplexing.  JFK was an elected President who did many shameful things in his private life.  Tiger Woods is a professional golfer...  That's just an example.  Tiger screwed his personal life up royally, but I don't want to be in the audience- it is none of my bee's wax.  The fact that he was seven strokes back and I could say to my husband that he was still in the race and be right... that I will be a spectator of and say "wow."  Anyway, I am just saying that I pulled for him.  It was all crazy.  So many people were stepping in and out of the lead and all of Tiger's putts were spitting in his face.  How they didn't drop I do not know.  Golf versus physics is like Selma versus the bumble bee.  It is one-sided.

I am again translucent in skin color and do not feel like hot dragon breath is blasting me.  Thought that may be note-worthy.

April 11th has another neat memory for me.  It is Nick's uncle Oleg's birthday.  He would be 98 today.  According to his last plan that he told us about this would only put him slightly past the half way mark in his ten year plan. He said he started working with weights.  Anyway, he passed and I would ask him for signs occasionally to know he was there.  I got many.  Really cool ones like seeing a Punk'd episode where the 'victim' wore a 'COLEGE' teeshirt and his button-up shirt fell over the C and the E leaving OLEG in the middle.  That was right after I was talking to him in my head.  And I had a dream of him that was probably the most real life dream I have ever had in my entire life. That's too long to get into now.  There are many other neat signs but the one having to do with today is this: I told him often that I met Nick on his birthday and so I always remembered it.  I was driving my car in Atlanta after having returned from his funeral in NYC and I was thinking about it all, very sad.  (I am hoggish about asking for signs & the ones I love that have left probably get really tired of me asking for them.)  Then, suddenly, coming from across the many empty lanes of the road I was on was this car.  It zoomed directly in front of me and stayed.  I thought the guy was on crack.  It was the dumbest driving I had seen in a while.  But, there in my vision was his car tag.  It said APRIL 11.  And I said, "Thanks, Oleg."  Because the first thing I think of on 4.11 is meeting Nick.  The second thing I think of is Oleg.  So, the tag made sense to me.  Little things like that add up.  

Spring Flowers and Blue Skies
at The Cotton Mill

Spring sprung.  It is here.  The weather has been pleasant and being out doors feels better than it has in a long time.  Selma Lu Mela ran through a field of yellow flowers bringing her ball back to me so that I could throw it in pathetic fashion for her to chase.  Honey Te'a Lina hasn't been farther than an arms length from me all day. She didn't even leave me to explore in the woods by the creek.  And China Lingua has learned how to follow her leash around me so that I don't have to do anything but say "Other side, China" and she lines up.  She is a smart cookie.  It has been a very good day.  Oh, and!!! My husband has publicly (on facebook) agreed to "spoil me absolutely rotten" for the next 50+ years.  That sounds like a Master plan.  That is an April 11th to remember. (...Just in case he doesn't.)


pssst...* Here's a link to listen to another song that was on the long-ago song suggestion list.  Perfect song for a morning walk!
Norah Jones and Wyclef- Any Other Day

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dPjATjFlIqk&feature=player_embedded

time=life?

Mornin', Mornin'.  

That is how I learned to say Good Morning while living in Anguilla, BWI.  I noticed they were extremely early risers and this phrase means it is a really good morning.  I guess they drop a Mornin' when it is just fair or mediocre.  They, in general, stayed up late and got up early.  It could have something to do with the pace of their day.  Maybe they get to enjoy more of their days because they don't run themselves into the ground and enjoy looking around, stopping to laugh, and exercising the right to say "I'll get to that tomorrow... or next week."  That really means, "You'll have this done in four months if I like you."  There is one establishment there that I frequented and I liked the people a lot.  They rented cars and would provide tours of the island.  Wendell, the owner, did other things too of course, because Anguillans have multiple jobs.  In fact, they live longer and have less debt than Americans.  They build their houses as they go and don't 'borrow' them.  When I would go in to rent a car or set up tours or book any other service they provided I was typically working on a short deadline (the American way, you know, like "right now") and had a long list of things to complete or sort out- some of them not even on the island so imagination was key.  I have this image/memory in my head of me walking in the door with all of the frantic energy that comes with "I need this on American time (done right now) and not island time (not a chance you crazy American chica!), can you help me?"  The two wonderful ladies behind the counter would stare at me, smile slowly, and together they would remind me that I was acting crazy and needed to slow down in life.  They would tell me I was going to miss life in the process of hustling.  And all that time I thought I was a stop-and-smell-the-roses-er.  I thought I belonged in the club of people who stepped back and took it all in.  I guess that is outside of work.  When I work, I have found out, I get a bit fierce about it.  Any perfectionist trait moves forefront, and control-freak tendency bumps up a dozen notches, and I do not relax until it is done- and it better be right and make someone who judges it happy.  If not, I add pissed-off b*tch to the list of awful characteristics above.  It turns out I smell the roses if there is no deadline to run across behind them.  The only exception to this is my wedding.  I was zen, blissed-out, in an out-of-body state.  That entire wedding time was calm and we all glided through it.  I take some of that back.  On every event day I am as cool as a cucumber.  In the States I was okay on the job too, I have remembered.  For instance, at PureRed Creative I think I handled things in good time and in great spirits.  That is because I was one part of a huge team that was on top of everything rolling across their desks.  So, I'll give myself more credit than I did previously in this paragraph.  When slow motion is paired with right-now expectations I am frantic.  When warp speed is paired with right-now expectations I am fine.  But warp speed and right-now expectations drive people into the ground.  Slow motion paired with 'take it easy' style creates long-livers.  How many words have I invented and hyphenated in this entry already?  

Long-livers.  This is sweeter than saying old people.  Old is a nasty word to use on people.  Use old to describe stone walls and ancient trees and a pair of socks that need to retire to a trash can.  Right?  People, not old.  We all feel like 8-year-olds inside.  That is the puzzlement I hear expressed from everyone as they age and find themselves being pushed against their will into a category considered old.  Yikes.  I prefer having to recount my age when people ask because I don't think about it and/or give a flying kite about it one way or the other.  Jack Nicholson, I'm with you.  Time is for the birds.

Speaking of long-living.  I wrote something a while back that has served as useful to me recently. Specifically, a very tragic thing happened to a family living in Edenton.  I do not know them personally, but I do know some of their very close family friends personally and so I tried to be a good listener and friend for my friends that were experiencing this painful situation.  And, even though I did not know the family that lost their dearly loved and very young son, I thought of them often and sent out many prayers for them.  No one knows how to heal a heart from pain like that. The only chance of that happening stems between the hurt heart and Grace.  Those are my own thoughts anyway- loss of that sort knocks a soul off orbit and the only gravitational force strong enough to pull it back to what is most likely a new orbit, nowhere near the same, is God and a person's spirituality.  When my friend was wrapping her mind around the loss I was noticing that my heart ached with recognition of this kind of grief.  Emotions can challenge beliefs.  The mind/body/spirit has a lot to do.  I did recognize certain similarities between this loss and one I knew.  That's why when I spoke toward the above to give a sign of the bigger picture or help me get back to a happy space I was warmed inside when I reached in my bag not even ten minutes later and accidentally put my hand on folded paper.  I pulled the paper out and curiously opened it and found words that I had written on paper, folded them up, and forgot about them.  I read them.

On Longevity:

In this notion of protecting one's self against life, in this attempt to protect and be safe, the spirit is held back and in the effort to live a longer quality of life, the thing that happens instead is that life becomes one thing that holds fear and doubt and guessing.  In the attempt to savor life, in the attempt to show respect to the idea of life and that it is a precious, sacred thing- the life is drained from the process.  In this fear of doing something wrong, the life's joy that one wants to live for goes to the winds- vanishes and we are left with regret.  At the end of a long life we sit and recognize that our life's purpose of living a long life isn't enough.  It isn't longevity we wish for, it is passion and it is panache that we yearn for in life.  This cannot be gained in a hesitant, weak grasp of the days. But, to grab hold boldly your life and steer- That is the wish we make and only then do we sit at the end and face forward knowing that we have nothing to turn back on with the face of regret.

Because of the way people think of time being the most precious thing one can hold (the real prize isn't time) there is hiding and shrinking from death.  Because of this thinking, the person is deceived.  It is not time to cherish.  It is zest.  It is zest that matters most.  Live life as you wish and do it with happiness because this is why you live at all.

Next, is the one thing in the world that stops people from doing what they want.  The one item/reason contributed most is money.  Then time.  Then that the resources other than those wasn't available.  These reasons suffice in many lives.  Can we understand this and why?  It helps soothe the reality one has created and this choice of a life far from what they truly want.  It helps with the ability to absorb the life and way in the daily routine one performs.  It causes such sadness, but it is still the 'medicine' people prefer.  Whether or not it is the real reason at all does not matter.  It isn't the thing that is why one can or cannot live properly.

And this is the ticket.

This is the secret of why or why not one achieves or does not achieve dreams.

The reason is quite simple and does not require thought at all.

It is one of thoughtlessness.

It is candor.

None of it leads to a life distracted.  Have candor and have your life of dreams.  Having candor and having no fear is the clue.  It is the key.  It is how and why we will live a life full and not sit with regret in our heart and soul.  

It is why we can live such wonderful courses and walk with smiles and it leads to what is treasured. Now to cease the past mindset and go forward with candor...

Why else could we stop?  Why else could we stop from pursuing happiness of which we were created and not hope for more?

Don't look back.  

Look forward with vigor and with zest.

Have candor.

Clearly we do not see the simplicity when we are in the middle of it all.  We only see how simple it can be when we look into it from afar.  But it is very simple.  Not even thinking will make it accessible.  Don't even think and it will happen.  Do only in this moment what is pleasing and feels easy.  Do what feels easy because that is what is meant to be done.  If we find resistance then it is purposeful in shifting us.  

What would our advice be to ourselves at the end of a long life?

"Don't take the road to the end and not have many winding ways in between.  It seems that if you can find amusements on the way, it will be a great journey.  Don't worry and don't avoid your own desires.  Realize what you have.  And that is much!  It is much that you have wanted in the past. Realize this and soar.  

It is on the wings of a grateful bird that flight is taken.

Fly on the wings of a grateful bird and you will find pleasant winds upon your face.

Glide into a life of happy times.  It is in the ease that we fly the freest- There is no weight on the wings of the flier's feathers.  

Be resourceful with the way you pick your passions, love and wishes.  And that is all in the world to consider."   

             

Panache is a word of French origin that carries the connotation of a flamboyant manner and reckless courage.  Panache is now used to describe someone who has a dashing confidence of style, or shows a certain flamboyance and courage, and is a familiar word now in English. 

Candor is a whiteness, brilliance, unstained purity. It is freedom from prejudice or malice- fairness.  Kindliness.  Unreserved, honest, sincere expression.  Forthrightness.

Vigor is physical or mental strength, energy, or force. It is the capacity for natural growth and survival, as of plants or animals.  It is strong feeling; enthusiasm or intensity.

Zest is an enjoyably exciting quality.  It is a keen enjoyment- relish, gusto.

These words were helpful for me because one thing I recalled as a similarity between my friend's loss and the one I knew is that the ones we lost were fine examples of how to truly live.  Both were full of the words I used on paper.  And that made me happy.  For them, there was an understanding of the difference between going through the motions in life and living.  Either it was an understanding or uncontrollable urge... and either is brilliant to me.

Fast paced living or slow motion.  Recklessly daring or hesitant to the point of boring.  Or bits and pieces of all of these.  It is a matter of perspective to what is pleasing to us, but I wish to read these words more than once in while and in situations of many emotions because this perspective helps me to have a little hindsight in the present.  

Mornin' is now hindsight and I guess I should wish everybody an Afternoon, afternoon before leaving the page.

I'm going to grab hold of something boldly with lots of zest and panache.

ta-ta.  

             

Taking a two song-ond break.

Break time.

I have one beloved itunes playlist that starts with Fall At Your Feet, Acoustic, James Blunt version.  I was looking for a video to link, but none are great, so I'm just going to say "look that one up and listen."  It's a go-to song for me and you all may enjoy it too. 

In keeping with the mood and intention, I picked another James Blunt song that stays out front in the race to favorite.  I found this live performance in France and appreciated it.  It has some extreme close-ups and wild eyes, but the lyrics are exceptional and the setting is great.  He is an artist.
(Super-close-ups are common lately!  Whether watching this or The Lincoln Lawyer, as I did last night, or watching the next video by James Morrison note how extreme the close ups are.  Also note that when watching Matthew McConaughey extreme close ups are welcome.  Let's talk about that movie later!)

Here is I Really Want You, James Blunt, Live from France:

Now, here is the SOC snippet that I wrote earlier this morning and mentioned in the last post and a video of another song that fits its topic. This is not an edited piece of work, it is just what I dumped on the page this morning.
...and it is not personal.  

Separation
Between you and me, there is a long line of disconnect.  Open circuits forming a line of nothing being transferred from your mind to mine.  Blankly we stare into one another's eyes and we see nothing.  We look for what we want to see and it isn't there, doesn't exist. We can't complain. What did we expect?  Person to person, you to me and me to you- we confuse.  Hope for common ground or common interests at least?  But, there is nothing common about a human being and there are no grounds to walk with another in the space between us.  Should we stay and try?  Should we remain?  A promise is a sacred thing- but happiness is the divine.  We face the day of decision with tears in our empty eyes.

This is why it happens.

Turn- and walk away.

I thought of a song that goes:

The Pieces Don't Fit Anymore, James Morrison

I'm going back to "work" now.  Watch The Lincoln Lawyer so we can discuss!

Tour, Pace, & Finish the Race

I recently did another Southeastern tour.  I drove from Edenton, NC to Atlanta, GA to Brookhaven, MS to Moultrie, GA to Vidalia, GA back to Moultrie, GA to Atlanta, GA and then home- to Edenton, NC.  Yes, it did make me dizzy.

The reason for the trip? Ginny.  She got married and a beautiful bride she did make.  That's a funny way of saying she was a beautiful bride.  I have design imprints from events and the imprint from this event was a romantic, shabby-chic, moonlit night with a pop of modern, peach and white, round paper lanterns.  In this night stood a lovely lady in a soft white gown with copper colored waves of hair falling around her shoulders and reflections of light-filled happiness twinkling in her brown eyes.  Virginia Caroline is married.  Happily.

After the weekend of family fun and after a long drive east to Georgia I made another trip.  I went to Vidalia, Georgia, home of a famously sweet onion, to meet with a former English professor.  He looks as I remember and is, in a masculine way, elegant in nature.  He has a proud posture and dresses in a way that is perfect for a man of the English language.  It is exactly as you imagine, easily smart with a quiet formality.  This man is dear to me and I hadn't seen him in quite a while.  I quickly remembered how deep of a pool his mind is and that to jump in is humbling to say the least. When speaking with him I am skimming the surface of that well of knowledge, going under to look around and coming back up to gasp for air.  I realize how dumb I really am.  Being with him is like watching 'Good Will Hunting'.  I beg to be smart.  So, I have five books that he gave me, two of which are collected poems he wrote.  He also gave me This Side of Paradise and The Beautiful and Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald and A Handbook To Literature that is remarkably helpful and interesting.  I have a list of books to read that he advises will cover everything (in the ways of writing and reading) and another recommended book, The Trivium: The Liberal Arts of Logic, Grammar, and Rhetoric, to purchase.  The good news is that I showed him the first 42 pages of my book and I wasn't slaughtered.  I got a look of puzzlement a time or two and that was expected because I have tried to be different in the writing of this story.  After reaching a certain point he seemed to get excited because my style of writing became clear to him.  Of course, as you could guess, it is Stream of Consciousness.  I won't bore you now with all of his insights and amusements at my writing... I think for a man of his sophisticated intellect I am humorous.  I handed him the Synopsis of my book after he read the pages I handed to him- ill timing, but it seems that's the way I roll.  He looked at me, said it was really good and then it was as if I could read his thoughts as he gave a slight hesitation.  I picked up the slack at that moment of hesitation and said "Why didn't I write the book like that?"  "Yes." He said, "Why didn't you just write it like this?"  What is the answer to this?  It didn't come to my head that way.  And I am being true to the way the story unfolded in my head, even though it may be an obstacle.  At the end of our six hours at his kitchen table he put his hand on the top of my stacked pages and said "Don't change it.  This is you."  So, aside from his insistence on changing the word 'by' to the word 'near' and some other pointers like that... I passed and feel good about it.  He has a Ph.D. in English and Literature and a minor in philosophy... I am proud of anything outside of a trash can.  I could have seen my words slashed and dismembered and my bloody pages could have been as good as a crumpled paper ball in a trash can.  So, I give myself a passing grade.  I hope he agrees.

I did hand these pages to my friend Julie and she, being a positive person in general, gave me the supportive feedback of wanting more pages to read.  That is my goal.  So, I gulped the "Gatorade" needed to finish the race.  I have gotten encouragement from a peer and a "keep it the way it is" from a person possessing far more superior brain cells than mine.  From a new mommy and cake pop queen to an English language purist and professor... I feel I traveled farther than all my routes around the Southern states.  He may never have read this book on his own if he didn't know me.  It is romantic and is probably more appealing to women.  Regardless, I did it.  I showed them both.

My dad had a birthday on the 14th of March, just a couple of days after my cousin's wedding.  Her wedding was like a gift to him- a get-together with all of his family.  He is so easily pleased.  He sets a very good example of how to be happy any time, anywhere, with no requirements.  He is happy.  As simple as the sentence, is his happiness.  He, like his mom was, is very accepting because he listens to me in the back seat as he drives his family to Mississippi or elsewhere.  He'll say "Are you my daughter?" every now and then, although he knows full well, I have many of his tendencies.  I apparently have many character traits of my mother's father too.  I get that a lot.  I never knew him, but can feel him at times.  I can sense his personality.  I missed having a grandfather.  They left before I arrived.  Pictures help.  I cling to them.  Paige's children will never say the same because my father is a wonderful Papa, or Poppy as Madeline would say.  Her kids have two sets of wonderful grandparents.

I have been away so long that I have so much more to say.  I am pacing myself because I want to work on my book and not become sucked into anything else.  I did write a little something that is either amusing or nonsensical but it shouldn't be paired in the same blog entry as that of my cousin's wedding news.  It is of disconnect and the opposite of a happy union.  Happy unions are bountiful lately.  I have two wonderful friends that have become engaged and I have one friend that is expecting her first baby (talk about a union!).  I am gearing up for shower-my-friends mode.  Another cousin is wedding April 30th.  And Nick and I celebrate our own happy union on the 16th, which means all month.  Six years married.  Ten years together.  We have been together like-married almost all of our relationship.  We are the type that live that way.  Which is now another reason to put my SOC on disconnect and separation in another post.

For me, on this day, I am devoted to sitting my bum in this chair.  I'll refresh my coffee, light my candles, pick tunes, and occasionally walk the doggies.  Otherwise, I am sitting.  Typing.  Thinking.  Hoping.  Writing.  Editing the rest of my pages.

Luxury-ess: Day In, Day Out.

I dare say, "Do what you want to do."

Luxury, to me, means just that.  I spent some time thinking a couple of years back about exactly what it is that I want to do in life.  (on a day-to-day basis)  My answer to myself was: I want to wake up in the morning and ask myself with my head still on the pillow (no jumping up to start the ant race with frantic energy) "What do you want to do today?" and BE ABLE TO DO EXACTLY THAT!  That is the most thrilling thought to me.  What an absolute luxury.

Like today, I went to a yoga class. Great.  

I went to a yoga class with a couple of my friends that I just treasure.  Even better than great.  

I drove past my favorite view in Edenton.  Aah.

I came home, feeling relaxed and healthy, to three fuzzy pups that greeted me with pure enthusiasm and I poured deliciousness into my pretty mug.  Segafredo.  Ground luxury.  Mmmm.

Now, comes the best part.  I am writing.  I am doing exactly what I want to do. 

Some of my friends suggest to me that I write more about writing.  I have thought about that before, but the idea that it would be interesting to others is new.  I may do that.  For now though, I am going to spend my day seriously moving forward with my project.  I am aware that sitting on a product for three years is a bit much.  

I am about to make my writing task completely luxurious and have my desk adorned with a silver cup of sharpened, brand new pencils; grab a customized blank notepad; use a handmade coaster courtesy of moi to rest my pretty mug; supply a stack of useful, smart books; and play music that stirs creativity in the mind.  I may go put on a stylish pair of shoes so that my scarf doesn't feel like the lonely fashionable accessory.  I might even lean back and put my feet up on the desk and speak with sass to nobody. 

Oh, I almost forgot.  I have no fresh flower.  But, I will keep my bottle of Caldrea near me to squirt in the air and sniff.  Lavender Pine is my suggestion. 

So, luxury-ess tip of the day is: Do what you want to do.  Live it up!  Laugh about it.  Don't be obliged all your days.  

... and Segafredo is the coffee way to go. 

All this being said... I will try and take my own advice, Day In and Day Out.

* Segafredo is at Mitchner's, downtown Edenton.

* Caldrea is at Urban Village, Edenton.  Leave enough for me. ;)

Can I get a Ketut?

Eat Pray Love plays to my left.  The ones sitting in front of the television are China and Selma Lu Mela.  They snooze and seemingly enjoy the sounds of Italy, India, and Bali.  Honey, our adopted addition, has just joined them, situating herself so that she sees me from the floor near the coffee table.  Either she prefers the floor or she doesn't feel she has gained sofa-status.  I think they relate to the story.  They eat, they love, and there is proof they pray because Honey isn't stranded in an empty, lonely field as her last owner intended.  Instead she is brushed every night while curled on a feather pallet and gets sweet wishes whispered in her ear.  I think she has this eat, pray, love thing down.

I saw this movie in Edenton's movie theatre that must claim historical significance as the rest of the town does.  Out front is a really cool old marquee with big bulb lights.  Nevertheless, the fuzzy screen did its job and I sat there salivating as the shot zoomed in to a plate of pasta.  The parmesan cheese sprinkled and scattered over the perfect-looking al dente noodles like magical fairy dust.  I looked to my left where my dear friend sat and she looked to her right locking eyes with me.  Both of our jaws went slack and we stared at each other with the same expression not even whispering but knowing exactly what the other meant.  We would have metaphysically transported our bodies to Rome with no hesitation if we could have in that moment.  After the movie the group of girls filling up our row of seats gathered in a circle on the sidewalk.  It was as if we were in second grade and met on the playground.  We all buzzed about where we would go after we dropped everything in life.  And we exchanged confirmations of the fact that Javier Bardem was cast perfectly. ("You don't need a man Liz, you need a champion." Wow.)  Then, behind us came the older, more traditional generation.  We overheard their exchange of opinions and it was remarkable how greatly they differed from ours.  They pronouncedly didn't like it all and were bored with her pursuit of happiness and sense of knowing more of herself than she did before.  This difference has stuck with me.  I notice how things have changed with time, as they always do.  Change.  One can not fight it.  You change, or you die... seems to me.  The body is built on the ability to change and the soul is the same, in my thinking. As far as the masses go- The flexibility within has increased from the former generation to the one I sit in- and the allowance to exhibit this outwardly has increased too.  

Did the set before us learn to be dot connectors from their parents or was it a collaboration?  How have we learned to be less rigidly traditional if this pattern is passed from one age set to the next?  I guess it is gradually loosening, this stranglehold on "The Way to Live One's Life".  We can see the creative differences everywhere.  An easy place to start is fashion.  It is about individuality not conformity these days.  It is about ease of movement not restriction.  We don't have to fake comfort anymore, we can pursue it.  And if we want to choose discomfort, no one judges that either.  Stilettos and tight pencil skirts are completely acceptable when worn next to jersey knit and flip flops.  Just an example.

When I was younger than I am right now I would drive home from college bursting internally with frustration over the same idea that had frustrated me for all my years in high school.  "Who came up with the rules?  And who says I have to obey them?  Why do I need to connect the dots, marching down the same path from check point to check point, and draw the same outline as everyone else?  Why did society conform to this particular direction and call it best?"  It felt like suffocation.  When I watched crowds of people doing exactly the same things in the exact same way, I felt like running in the other direction as fast as I could.  It cost me some friends that I adored too.  But, it was impossible for me to join the crowd and flow uniformly.  So, I chose to be a friend to myself- as best I could anyway.  I was, after all, going to be around me longer than I would be around anyone else. ;)  

I read a comment from an interview of a celebrity that does things consistently her own way.  She said (paraphrasing) that being an individual is not always easy, that people who choose to be individuals can find themselves lonely sometimes because that is part of it.  I was in the bathtub relaxing and reading by candlelight when I took notice of those words.  True.  I thought.  It was so basic and so true.  Also, it was admirable.  I enjoy seeing people be genuine to themselves.

It serves well as a reminder.  When faced with huge gaps between your ways and another's ways, these words are comforting and reassuring that we all have our own company and there is a sort of bravery in marching down the path we choose to be ours and not the one others plan for us.  It is a 'road less traveled' moment.  It would be nice if we all had a Ketut like the subject of the film-someone who knew our way as much as we did and could subtly point us in the direction we meant to be facing before we got sidetracked or turned around.  Maybe if we are aware enough eventually we find our inner Ketut.  

Look inward not outward for answers.  Repeat.

It was a generation gap, the differences in what each group of gals gained from the film.  So often we are told that we have strayed from what is right and good and that we should go back to solid values.  New generations are often scolded.  I see that we could also move forward to better values.  The world is more dangerous 'they' say.  Statistically, based on percentages, the results say the opposite is true.  And I think of the fact that in those "good old days" two World Wars dominated civilizations and atomic bombs were dropped and... still the older set keep marching us toward war and utter disharmony (some do this while preaching the opposite).  Who is telling who about right versus wrong?  If we were all confident enough to march down our paths toward happiness & difference and not toward expectations & uniformity would we find peaceful existence? 

Maybe a better question is-  How did all this come from watching Julia Roberts globe trot?