Making good choices.

I believe that I am the master of my own destiny, that I in fact can determine the course of my life merely by making decisions that point me in the perfect direction. This is flawed logic. See, I can't predict what will end well with 100% certainty. I can guess. I can use past experience. But I can't emphatically know what will make my life as awesome as possible.

Seriously, I don't even know why I keep trying. All it takes is one bad decision to royally fuck it all up anyway, as the protesters at Planned Parenthood remind me every morning on my way to work. Life is not a series of equally significant moments. Life is a series of benign, uninteresting moments, interspersed with crazy important ones that change the entire trajectory of one's life. Yet I continue to believe that I can be more powerful than I am, that I can predict the future, and thus completely avoid pain. And it is these times, when I have set everything up in such a way that absolutely nothing can go wrong, that everything goes wrong, and I am painfully reminded of how small and helpless I am in the face of an infinite universe and unpredictable people.

So I eat more chocolate chip cookies, because I predict that they will be good, and then they are, in fact, very good. Nothing else matters. I have control over nothing else.

Facebook lamenting...

Set from Jahreszeiten, design by Susanne Dolker

I have friends on Facebook who lament. I try to lament as little as possible, because the responses are just underwhelming. No one has anything really meaningful to say, because Facebook isn't an inherently meaningful thing. Real person-to-person interaction is best for coping, in my opinion. Even Skyping doesn't do it for me. There is still distance in the conversation.

So when people lament, I try to be as encouraging and empathetic as possible. People lament in public because they want to be heard. They want to be seen. They don't need to hear how "It will all be better someday" or "Silly you. Be positive! Nothing is as bad as you think it is." Those kinds of responses are meant to send encouragement, but I find that they make the lamenter even more angry, because the deep unspoken fear is realized on screen - no one understands.

This is a reminder to myself to be supportive to those who are looking for support, to avoid rubbing people's faces in their own pain.

See you later :)

Oh the heat :(

I just found out that there's a new, super awesome, biannual flea market in my area, and they're having the first event in less than a month. First thought? Omg. Omg. Omg. I have to do it! Second thought? Oh shit. I can't. For several minutes, these two thoughts fought, but in the end, the second one has won out.

My body shuts down in 100 degree heat. And coincidentally, the past few days have been hellacious. So I'm not feeling very hopeful about the coming summer. I'm concerned that I'm reaching some kind of physical brick wall in relation to my ability to live in a super hot place. It frightens me to think that my body cannot live in the place where I live. Or maybe I'm overreacting, and the past few days have just been a strange response to a strange May heat-wave.

We'll see. But I don't think the flea market is going to happen. The rummage sale was possible because it wasn't hot. Also, there's a big three digit fee to have a booth, and I'm not rollin' in cash. Ok, I'll try to be more positive from here on out.

Faith is a fact.

I have a friend in another country who goes to church every day after work, sits in a silent old church in some old European country, and contemplates God or something especially cool. It seemed extreme to me when I first heard it, but I understand so much more now. We need ritual in our lives, sameness, things that do not change. This ritualizing of behaviors creates solidity in our souls, plants us into the ground, makes us feel safe in our own skin. Weird and definitely spiritual, but true. Take it or leave it.

In the wake of school shootings and marathon bombings, I hear stories of people reaching out in new and different ways. Today, while driving the freeway in between meetings across town from one another, I wondered if people are looking for God somehow in this reaching-out, and I thought about lighting a candle. I have another friend who lights candles regularly, also an awesome person. I so appreciate that she has created some kind of place for that. I don't think I have the room. Maybe I could put a shelf up or something.

Who knew I'd become more Catholic as I got older. It's strange and wonderful, and I'm glad my faith allows me to change over time, to go in and out of faith phases, just as I move in and out of food phases. I am still going to the panaderia every morning, and tonight I realized after my evening walk down the boulevard, that I could not go the rest of the day without eating ice cream.

So yeah, phases are good. Or okay, at least. Also ritual is good. I don't know if they are connected. Whatever. I won't figure everything out before I die, but I might figure out some things. Hopefully bread/ice cream phase won't put me in the grave sooner over later.

I like to use the word 'freakishly'

I am occasionally overly optimistic, and freakishly committed to people who hurt me. It's an endearing quality in my mind, but it can put me in dangerous situations, situations that truly jeopardize my physical and emotional well-being. And then, on the flip side, is the reality that people we love will inevitably hurt us, and vice-versa!

One moment in my life that I will never forget is this awful fight (years ago) I had with my best friend. She was yelling, calling names. I was crying, begging her to stop. I was hurt, disappointed, and totally confused. She loved me. I loved her. How could something so awful happen (and it was awful)? That was a turning point for me in my ability to forgive, and in my ability to really see people three-dimensionally, and to accept that the people who love us will probably hurt us more than anyone else, and it's up to us to decide what to do about that. Do we throw away relationships after one horrible fight, or do we do the hard work of repairing?

After that fight, I've began to notice that close relationships aren't as perfect as I'd once imagined them to be (or fantasized about them being). For example, a few months ago, I had a total meltdown and yelled at a few friends in a not-so-kind way for trying to do something helpful for me. I had to get a major talking-to, and I had to eat it big time. For whatever reason, it was so difficult to admit that I was wrong. I had a right to be mad! They were wrong! But that wasn't what the situation was really about. It was about protecting relationships that mattered to me. And that was worth more than my ego.

Just something I'm chewing on today. Peace out :)

The full moon :)

Aren't these pictures funny and weird?

Tonight, after yoga, I stood by the bread factory in my short shorts, yoga mat in hand, watching the train go by under a full moon, and cried. And the train kept going, and going, and I knew I needed it to pass before I could cross the tracks to go home anyway, so I just stood there and got out as much as I could.

I'm okay. I can be big and loud sometimes, and that includes being sad, but I'm okay. People always think that I'm worse off than I am. The funny thing is, when it was really bad, several years ago, very few people saw me in my total life-stops-completely grief. Now I just cry and watch the train, then go home and make dinner, and do it all again tomorrow. I'm really doing well, and sometimes I have long, difficult days, but that doesn't change how I feel on the inside about myself.

Anyhow, having a job where you help people makes you have to constantly remind yourself that you are powerless to change other people. Sometimes I just have to say that to myself (I'm always talking to myself), and the fog lifts, my furrowed brows lift, and the world is right again.

You crazy!

Oh dear. I'm at the children's hospital thrift store, when a female volunteer starts talking to me, telling me about the sale racks. For whatever reason, in close spaces, I don't like to be approached by strangers telling me things that I can find out by looking at the signs, but whatever.

Then she starts following another woman, picking out clothes for her, telling her how cute she would look in this top, "It's a Small! You're tiny!" Then she returned to the cash register and began to watch me as I wandered through the store. Every time I looked her way, there she was, staring at me. It was creepy. And it wasn't smiley. It was stonefaced, maybe-she-thinks-I'm-going-to-steal-something, staring.

This same store has signs all over, saying, "DON"T STEAL! YOU ARE STEALING FROM CHILDREN, SICK CHILDREN!!!!!!!!" I don't know why I keep going back, but I do.

Actually, you're pretty awesome.

We all have baggage. We've all made decisions we regret. I mean, if you're over the age of 30, you've had lovers, haters, and maybe even some pregnancies. You've been drunk one too many times, written one too many poems on your arm, and made out with the wrong person in front of a room full of people.

You've dropped out of school. You've broken up with the love of your life, "...because while he was sweet and sexy and basic, you were afraid you wouldn't be able to discuss Russian novels together (The Deep End of the Ocean, Jacquelyn Mitchard)." You've listened to more Phil Collins and Taylor Swift than you care to admit. You have a tattoo of someone's name that treated you badly. You've loved other people, taken care of other people, more than you've taken care of yourself.

You've hurt people on purpose, and said nasty things that still haunt you. But you deserve to be loved unconditionally, with abandon, just like everyone else, no matter what you've done.

Olympic Swimming :)

French Lead Crystal Goblets - Pompadour Pattern

I am having so much trouble watching the Olympics. It makes me really sad. I had to have a talk with myself this afternoon to get over the disappointment. I had to figure out why I was sad.

When I was a kid, let's see, over the past almost 30 years, I have seen many Olympic games. It was always a beloved thing in my family, and every four years, we sat together and enjoyed the solidarity and beauty of the games. As an adolescent, my swim coach brought a television to the pool and we'd watch in between sets. National-level swimming got me through high school, in a way. The idea of somehow rising to that level kept me motivated to train for years on end. The Olympics were like some far-off dream of all that swimming was meant to be. They inspired me to think big, even when those who believed in me most told me I'd never measure up.

And I didn't. I was a mediocre swimmer at best. I was the hardest worker in the pool, and certainly formidable as a high school swimmer in a small country pond, but as a year-round club swimmer, I was always in the middle of the pack, usually on the slower end. The Olympics make me sad because they represent the idea that we each have greatness inside of us, that we each have the capacity to be "The Best" at some thing. But now that I'm an adult, and my competitive swimming days are done (and I'm glad about that), I don't know how I'm gonna find greatness in my life. I don't know how I'm going to prove to myself that I'm good enough. I thought those letters after my name would help, but they really don't.

I imagine that at the end of the day, gold medals aren't that awesome anyway for those who win them. I imagine that they feel amazing for a while, as well they should, but then life goes quickly back to normal, and the winner still has to face their own humanity. That's how life seems to work out for me anyway.

There was a time, a moment in time, that I was crazy fast (crazy stupid fast). And when that moment passed, I was done swimming. I proved to myself that I had it in me, and then I was done. I got out of that pool, and never looked back. So when I have moments like this, like I'm having right now, wishing my life had turned out differently, I remember that moment, and it's all worth it.

Laziness & Photographing Textiles

Vintage Vera Neumann Curtain - A Rare Find!

So I have a ridiculous procrastinating habit with photographing textiles. They're so big! So yesterday, I faced my fear and did a bunch all at once, just laid them in the driveway in the early morning light, and shot the hell out of them. Yeah, so it's not professional, but it got the job done, and in the end, that's really all that matters.

In my professional, non-eBay life, I deal a lot with the term laziness. People tell me that they don't/can't do something because they're "lazy". And in response, without fail, I say, "Bull. Laziness doesn't exist. Find another word." It's my shtick. It's my higher self speaking, because in my darker moments, I am just as likely to think those same things about myself. But I don't want to be a person that ever talks about myself that way. Would I say that to a friend in a condescending way? Would I insult them like that, or would I be understanding and acknowledge their weariness/exhaustion/pain and need for rest? Probably the latter.

Calling yourself "lazy" is a cop-out. It's the end of the sentence. Nothing can follow it. It prevents you from digging deeper and figuring out what's really going on. It prevents you from acknowledging your own humanness and forgiving yourself from being imperfect and a non-superhero.

So forgive yourself already and take a nap.

Word.

Good Sunday to you :)

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Eleanor Roosevelt

A great thing happened today: I went rock climbing (at a climbing gym) for the first time ever, and I went all the way to the ceiling! It was awesome, and I thought you should know. It seems like the scariest thing ever, since you're hanging onto a wall with your fingertips and the side of your foot, but then you just take one step at a time, and eventually you're there! My friends who took me go all the time (they're fiends), so they were super positive and encouraging, and I felt really supported. I figured out that I don't like being told what to do when I'm in the middle of doing it. I need to be able to focus as much as possible on the task at hand, and voices calling out to me where to put the foot I can't see (on the 2" rock I also cannot see) are simply not helpful to me.

So that was good to know about myself. I hadn't quite put those two things together before. See how much I love personal development? I think everyone should do things that scare them just for the heck of it, and we'd all be better people. Unfortunately, I think that a lot of people do drugs and join gangs in an effort to confront their own fears, and this isn't usually a good idea. So maybe the ethos isn't perfect, but it's worth thinking about.

Peace out.

To do list :)

Things to do in the near future:

1. Become less fearful of actual human contact
2. Give couch to friend's friend who needs a couch
3. Get comfy chairs for living room
4. Kill all weeds in backyard (never gonna happen)
5. Fill holes in drywall
6. Finish year-end paperwork for good
7. Wash car, inside and out
8. Trim bush outside front door
9. Install outdoor shade
10. Organize inventory (constantly happening)

"The Grape Harvest"

Based on a mosaic of a Millard Sheets piece in Southern California

After a party last night, I'm in a weird place in my head. I spent some time this afternoon wrapped up in my hammock. My friend helped me put it up this morning. Everything is better with my hammock up in a tree. How have I gone five years without it?

I'm having this sudden insecurity brought on by the online dating thing. Suddenly it matters what I say and what I do, and how others perceive me. It's why I'm so bad at interviews, but great at my job. There's something inside me that just shuts down when I know I'm being watched and judged. I wish there were a cure, but there isn't. It's a big part of who I am, and a large reason I put forward a strong sense of self most of the time. I'm afraid of being watched and being found wanting.

So I recycle things that have been discarded by their previous owners. In doing that, I challenge the world to tell me that it's trash. I don't believe it's trash, so how can you? I approach myself in the same way. I'm a bad ass. I dare you to say otherwise. Most of the time, I'm okay. But it's also why I haven't interviewed in over a year. It's my ultimate fear so I find every way I can to avoid it. But now I'm in a place (back to dating again) where I don't want to be avoidant. I want to put myself out there. But the fear is palpable, and in some ways, paralyzing.

I'm going to have a talk with myself right now, see if we can get this all sorted out.

Peace out.

Online Dating #1 of ?

If I dress like this, maybe life would be better.

I'm sorry to say it, but I've begun the process of online dating. I began about 36 hours ago, and I'm already reconsidering my decision. Who do I think I am? Someone who could possibly be attractive to other people, namely one other person? I can barely remain attractive to myself. I feel like listing all of the reasons that I'm undateable. Shall we?

Remember to pronounce the two 'u's separately.

1. My apartment is a mess, like no-one-should-come-in-here-ever. I don't remember when I changed my sheets last, or vacuumed. There are holes in the walls that I said I would fill months ago.
2. I have a job I can't be completely honest about (i.e. I'm a CIA spy. That's what you thought, right?).
3. I have a weird diet that makes me seem like a fascist, and in some ways, I feel like one.
4. I have life-long chronic conditions for which I will always need treatment.

Okay, this is boring. If the worst things about me are that I'm messy and don't eat animal products, I think I'll give it another day or so.

Thrift Share Monday :)

I just want to give the world more beauty :)

 

Do you know that there are innocent people in prison? I just watched the documentary, The Thin Blue Line, and it reminds me why I wanted to go into law when I was a kid. I wanted to make sure that no one suffered for a crime they did not commit. I was a dreamer - I still am.

Are you a helper? How did that happen? What is the difference between a person who lives life committed to peace and justice, and a person who lives life for money and power? I guess that's one of the reasons I ended up where I am today as an adult, definitely not a lawyer. I wish I could understand why people decide to work for good, then I could pass it on.

I've named these "The Star Trek Shoes"

My newfound acceptance of science fiction and fantasy is evidence of my ability to dream a little more, to incorporate a little bit more un-reality into my life. I think dreaming is a really important thing. Sometimes we scold children for telling stories, and sometimes we need to be encouraging them to dream more instead of less. There has to be a time where imagination is fostered and nurtured. If we do not dream, we can never hope for something different.

Every one needs something big to dream. Dreaming keeps us alive.

Still linking up with Apron Thrift Girl :)

Grad Plans #2

I am having so much anxiety about the overarching theme of graduation. Sure, the ceremony will be great, and the banquet, and the time with family and friends. But this burning in my chest is more than indigestion; it's total fear.

People in my cohort have jobs. People in my cohort are going to get paid, and soon. And I am going to continue to do the things I've been doing all along, because change would be too much for me. Is that sad? Pathetic? I'm not sure that it isn't. There are student loans to pay, and health insurance options to find. And somehow I'm stuck. My brain is stuck. I can't move. I've panicked into stillness.

The beginning of this year, for various reasons (i.e. moving), was horrific. So I'm gradually shifting into the next phase, and that has to be okay for me. I have to accept myself and all of my limitations. I have to accept that I need time and space, and piles of books from the library to ease the transition. I need to order my Slovenia: 1945 book and start to dream again about writing. I need space to move around in. I need rest, and silence, and lots and lots of hugs.

And then, eventually, when I least expect it, I can move on.

Funkdigity

Knitting? Gardening? Staring out the window?

Should I be doing something else? Should I be watching less television? Should I be walking on the grass and staring at the sky more? I'm in that weird place where my life is changing and I don't quite know what to do while it's happening. I've been talking about it for the past nine months or so, but now my graduation is a week away (nine days to be exact). I'm in a funky funk, and I'm just going to have to ride it out.

I'm pretty much a professional now. I'm a professional who sells trash on the internet (when I'm trying to convince someone how lame I am, I create really pithy sayings like that). I'm actually pretty awesome, but I don't know if it's okay to really live in that feeling. I might become obese or sociopathic if I care about myself too much (or too little for that matter). I guess I have a core fear that I have to maintain some kind of emotional balance that errs on the side of depression. That way, karma will repay me in my next life by blessing me with many virgins (seriously, why are virgins so valuable in the afterlife?) or cows.

I created an outfit for graduation day. I bought a dress yesterday, and took it to be altered today. I still need to have my earrings fixed. Everything fell apart at the beginning of the school year, and I've just kinda limped along ever since. Now I'm on the other side, and everything needs repair. Including me, probably.

I have to be perfect--I have to.

As my future perfect self, I will wear awesome vests like this one.

I am experiencing a new kind of anxiety: the anxiety of being responsible for another living being, and not living in a vacuum.

Pretty much constantly, for the past few days, I have been worrying about how my decision to get a dog affects other people. How long will she bark after I leave? Will my neighbors hear her? How long will my supervisor be upset for my bringing her to a meeting? Will my landlords be upset?

It's an awful feeling. I can't wait until it ends. Of course it will only end when everyone loves me and I stop making mistakes. I will only be truly happy when I become perfect.

Dogs should come in pairs.

Training a dog is hard work, especially when the dog has not been treated well or has been living in a chaotic situation for a while. The dog is hesitant, and the new owner is hesitant. The dog bites in fear, so the owner strikes it. And soon the cycle begins again...

It's difficult to treat animals, specifically dogs, well. Dogs are vulnerable because they are small, and they have no prefrontal cortex, so they are easy to manipulate. It's so interesting to me that some people have been making a deal out of Mitt Romney's treatment of animals. What makes dogs so special (besides the fact that they're pretty freakin' cute)? Why are we not raging against the establishment that allows millions of cows to lay in their own fecal matter each day? Why are we not raging against the establishment that tells us we are safer because all of our meat gets washed in ammonia? Why are we not shouting it from the rooftops? Why are we not all acting for change?

That's my spiel for the day. I like my new dog. I don't love her yet, because I don't really know her, but I'm working on it. This week will be a test of how we'll get along, because I'll be in and out during the day, and she'll be alone sometimes. I think that dogs should come in pairs, but I need more time before I can get another, and I don't think it's a good idea to put more than one person and one [small] animal in my apartment. I only have so much space to walk.

I got a dog.

Ten things about my new dog:

1. Her name is Molly
2. She is small and black
3. She is a Chihuahua mix
4. She's fairly quiet
5. She's been crazy hungry
6. She's a rescue
7. I woke up in the middle of the night, and she was sitting by my head staring at me
8. She's very jumpy and bouncy
9. She came home with poop on her, and when I tried to give her a bath, she bit me--she was so scared, there was a lot going on, and I hadn't let her know who was boss
10. We've got a ways to go before we love each other

Want to adopt a dog? I had been looking at this website for months, and drooling over a dog I could love. I found a bunch that appealed to me, but in the end, I picked up the one who didn't seem to like me, and took her home. I hope we're okay. She sure is cute, and super weird.