I love presents!

I'm not much of a holiday gift giver. Yes, I may give you something for your birthday or for Christmas if it's already in my stash, but mostly I'm an everyday gift giver. I love giving presents so freakin' much - sometimes I can't stand it. I get giddy and smiley and I am so excited until the moment. Today I found the greatest thing, and I'm testing it out right now, and I'm dying to text the person to tell them that I got them an amazing present and I don't know how long I'll be able to wait to give it to them (no, it's not for you, or you, or you).

I don't think I really came into my own as a gift-giver until adulthood. I mean, I've always had the skill, the unusual talent, but I don't think that I appreciated how awesome it was, or realized how awesome it might be for other people until I'd reached my early twenties. I went through a period of time of giving lots of money away secretively. That was fun, and maybe too extravagant for that time in my life, but I did it. I gave lots of money to various ministries I supported and causes I believed in. Sometimes I gave because I felt like I had to (i.e. "God loves a cheerful giver"), but over time, I've stopped giving for that reason.

I was taught to tithe to the church, and I struggle with that. I thought that God would give me everything I needed, and then I would tithe out of that. But when I started to not have enough, I stopped giving to the church. Maybe my financial dire straights (not really dire, just full of debt) are due to this, to my lack of faith. But then I think back to all the times I gave so much to people in need, out of my own abundance, and wish that I could somehow receive that back in kind. Money is funny. That's all I'll say.

I might last another 24 hours. This thing is so perfect, I can't stand it.

What is love?

Love opens a person up to new things, or so I thought. I like country music and Led Zeppelin and poetry because some guy who loved me liked those things - the list could continue on and on. I am who I am because of the people I have loved, because of the people who have loved me. And I'm happy for that. I'm glad for these things.

But I'm beginning to wonder if true love, the best kind, makes us like new things, or if true love makes us more like ourselves, who we truly are. I don't know that I've ever asked myself this particular question, but I'm beginning to see things in myself that make me think that I am my best self when I'm in relationship to another person who doesn't try to change me.

When I was a kid, everything about me was wrong. Trying to change me was a full time job. So I grew up to be an adult who didn't know her ass from a hole in the ground. I didn't know who I was. I was a stranger to myself. And I've spent the last decade or so trying to get to know this person I am, trying to love her as she is, and not as she should be.

Anyhow, part of this struggle is in surrounding myself with people who affirm me without telling me what to do or who to be. It's difficult to choose these people wisely. It's difficult to love myself enough to choose people who treat me well. But somehow in the wondering is the answer. Somewhere in the mess of my own heart is everything I'm looking for.

That's all I got.

I'm afraid of new things.

I'm pretty much on vacation right now, focusing on my store, resting, considering the possibility of reading a book instead of watching old Law & Order episodes on repeat, and just generally attempting to re-center, ground myself for the pending new year.

I have this new thing in my life, this new person, and as I move through the unknown of this relationship, I am faced daily by all of the things I try to avoid most of the time. I'm recognizing how much I avoid risk, perhaps not risk in the standard sense (I'm not risking my life or anything), but risk in terms of my own heart and soul. See my thrifty heart is a frugal heart. I calculate and recalculate. I weigh pros and cons. I anticipate potential problems so when they come, I'm not surprised. I know when to throw in the towel and call it quits. Thrifting is the way I control my life. Thrifting is the way I make sense of my own soul.

But nothing new and wonderful can come out of something known and understood, at least not intentionally. I've made a lot of choices in my life for the wrong reasons, and they ended up being for my benefit in the end, but I couldn't have orchestrated that; I couldn't have known the future.

So yes, I dig for treasures, but I don't know what I'll find. I don't go looking for particular things; I find wonderful things because I open myself up for them. I spend time preparing, and at the right time, I know what I'm looking at.

People are like that, in some ways. We become people who know what they're looking for, so when we see it, we'll know. I guess I'm wondering if I know what I'm looking for, after all this time, if my years upon years of singleness have taught me anything, or if I'm still just my naive sixteen-year-old self in a grown up woman's body.

Only time will tell, because only time can do the hard work of growing up. Being a grown-up is hard.

How babies are made

Ooo. I do want to know where babies are made. Vintage sex book? Yes please!

Fairly innocuous beginning. Talk about eggs. Good times.

We move to fertilization with an example of a flower. Lovely :)

Holy fuck! I was reading this to my child! Close your eyes, honey.

Oh dear lord. It continues. There is no end to this torture.

Ok, phew. You've redeemed yourself, somewhat, Time-Life Books.

I got into the "Express Lane" today (five items or less), basket in hand on the floor, slowly nudged forward with my foot, enjoying the scenery, happily looking forward to sharing this book with all y'all, when I saw a woman with a fake baby. It was one of those crazy reborn dolls where they're supposed to look lifelike, and then people treat them like they're real. The woman is standing beside the stroller, slowly stroking the hand of the doll, discussing the difficulty she has in finding appropriately-sized clothing, and how she came up with the doll's name. The baby was ugly. This cannot be overstated.

The only time I see people with these dolls is in thrift stores. While in line, I tried to figure out why this is, and decided that thrift stores are the hub for all crazy people (including me), and thus cannot help but attract women with fake babies, showing off said babies to the other crazy people. I began to feel more uncertain of my own identity...

All is well :)

All is not lost, my dear

Oh man, I've been feeling down for a few days. I don't want to call myself a "downer" however, for fear this name-calling would only plunge me back into ceiling-staring-land (or as it was last night, star-staring-land). And I don't want to be hard on myself, since the temperature plunged overnight, the holidays are fast approaching (oh dear lord), and the director of the CIA is embroiled in scandal. Then there's Hurricane Sandy, legalization of being a pothead in Colorado, and the neverending depression of Obamacare. Need I say more? How can a simple girl like me go on living in all of this chaos?

But then, a dimly flickering light in the darkness: lunch at the Armenian place across the street, filled with fresh pita, tzatziki, and the most wonderful falafel I've had in a long time. Suddenly, the world was right again, my blood sugar normalized, and my days-long freak-out ended.

Peace out mofos :)

Delusion.

Pewter and Turquoise - pewter is a funny word.

I'm attempting to sort out some things in my brain at the moment. I use the word attempting loosely. I've been doing it for a couple days, but mostly I'm left just staring at the ceiling, in a daze. I think I've written some poems, and I'll probably write some more, but I don't know if that's even sufficient.

I like to have control. It's a safe feeling. It's a delusional feeling, but safe all the same. But these past two months have been completely out of my control, bringing things into my life that seriously seemed previously unthinkable and impossible. When I was in school, there was a rhythm. Predictable things happened. I worked all the time, and I was exhausted most of the time, and my brain was tired with all of the neurotransmitters being connected. But in the midst of exhaustion was a sense of certainty, that there was a goal at the end of every road, even an ultimate goal. But now there is no ultimate goal, just lots of learning new things and falling down, and standing back up and continuing on. There are no grades, no end to projects, no certainty about the future (again, delusional thinking).

I wonder how much most people fear stability, the quiet of the present moment, the constant unknown and lack of control. My insides get twisted up, and have to be untwisted, and that takes a little while, and a lot of staring at the ceiling.

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.

Macaroni & Cheese

I'm thinking about getting myself a personal masseuse :)

So I'm sitting here drinking wine. I can't remember the last time I bought alcohol with the intent to actually drink it, but here I am, quite happy.

Last year, at the end of the day, it was sometimes hard to go to yoga (maybe it'll get more difficult when dumb daylight savings happens) after work, but I'm starting to need it to get through the day with enough energy to do another one tomorrow. I've got to hand it to the annoying adults in my life; I really didn't know what was coming. Being whole and present all the time is awesome, but it also means that I have to get up every morning and go to work. I have to show up every day, the same way I did the day before. It can get old after a while, the sameness of it.

My childhood made me very comfortable with chaos, with freaking out about little things. But now, there is no room to flip out about the little things. I have to spare my energy for the important things, the people in need, and my own health. So when I had health insurance troubles for the umpteenth time this afternoon, I didn't have room to lose it. I had to keep moving forward, keep going to meetings, keep doing my job, keep being constant and stable.

But after all of that, I went to yoga, and admitted to everyone that yes, I was feeling "poo poo" about everything. Then I made macaroni and cheese (I still haven't stopped being in love with Daiya), wrote a poem, drank some wine, and now I'm done.

Peace out.

I can't think of a title.

Shimano shoes - simple style, but very useable :)

I went to the city this weekend with my bff, saw Lori McKenna (ah, bliss), and had a silly time being away from home and getting back on solid ground.

Last week was really hard. I was faced with my professional inadequacies, and that was painful and difficult to work through. Somehow I thought graduating would make me more of a pro, and less like swiss cheese, but ah, 'tis not to be.

Have you ever told yourself (or someone else), "Yeah, I've dealt with that" or "That's not an issue for me anymore"? Well that was what I thought about my own struggles. I probably never realized that I was believing that I was whole and healed (and perfect), but my actions spoke otherwise. I've been behaving like someone who looks the part, but doesn't have all the skills yet. Yeah, teenagers can have sex, but should they? It's like that. So now that my humility has been sufficiently restored, I can go back to the business of helping people with my ego somewhat wounded, but my general safety improved.

I saw Ghandi yesterday, and now I'm reminded how he beat his wife, and how being human means being imperfect, and learning and growing and changing, becoming better, stronger, and wiser (hopefully).

Peace out :)

I've found my vice.

For a long time, I've complained to anyone who will listen that I need a vice badly. I need something that I can do that is mine, that feels like rebellion, something I do that says, "I really don't give a fuck". Well friends, I have found that thing. And it is Whole Foods.

Whole Foods gives me vegan muffins and scones, vegan cake, soy yogurt, fake wonderful meat, kombucha (!), and men who smile at me like goons. Whole Foods has the most comprehensive selection of vegan options than anywhere else in town. Yeah, so it's more expensive, but I don't care. It's food! It's what I put in my body, the houser of my soul and all that jazz. So I'm gonna own it. I'm gonna own my vice like nobody's business.

Saving the World

I am super frustrated today by people unwilling to budge a little to admit a bit of responsibility and do something to solve a small problem.

It is my belief that I am an unexceptional (though awesome) human being, and that everyone cares about other people and systemic functioning as much as I do. But time and again, I am proven wrong. Should I trust people selling me their used car? Probably not entirely. Should I assume that other people want to help as much as I do? Probably not. Perhaps I should pay a little less attention to global problems and a little more attention to my own.

I didn't become this way on accident. I was raised to depreciate my own health in the interest of the well-being of others, and this seems to be an issue I'm still working through. Now, my occupation is evidence that I care a lot about other people, and it offers me opportunities to continually manage boundaries, but it is also evidence that my "helping others before myself" attitude is not easily ignored - it's something I deal with regularly, and something I often have to keep in-check.

Call me a fascist commie, but I think that we, as human beings, need to pay attention to one another a little more, and ourselves a little less. We need to think about how our actions affect others a little more, and our smart phones a little less.

Black-and-White Thinking

I have not been able to find information on the artist :(

Last summer, almost a year ago, I decided that I had enough oomph in me to tell an ex that I'd been in love with him for a very long time. I'd never told him because it seemed so silly. As time had passed, from teens to twenties, it became more crazy a thought. Then suddenly, one Saturday afternoon in July, I had a chance, and I took it.

Boy did I ever take it. When I got him in front of me, I dumped a decade of thinking on him in a single evening. All of the things I never thought I could say, I said. Suddenly, I had no shame. Those years were behind me; there was no future between us. I figured I would live in the moment and do the thing I thought I'd never be able to do. Except he didn't leave. He stayed and listened. He was kind. And that's where everything went wrong. He told me we could be friends. I told him I could never be his friend - that was the whole point - and then the next day wanted a response. I poured my heart out! I wanted a response! We disagreed vehemently, and that was it. We didn't speak again.

It took me a year (I had to finish graduate school, after all) before I realized what I'd done, that I'd thrown away a relationship just because it didn't fit the mold I wanted it to. I wasn't mad at myself. I understood why I'd done it. I was scared, so very scared, and it was the bravest thing I'd ever done. But the year between then and now was a huge year of emotional growth for me, and suddenly I had more oomph left in me. I called him a couple weeks ago and said I was ready to be friends.

So now I'm trying, in spite of my emotional limitations, to be a friend to someone who I didn't think I could ever feel friendly towards. But somehow my capacity for patience has increased dramatically, and I'm recognizing that relationships can be tricky suckers, and that my black-and-white thinking has kept me from being with people I love. So it's worth the not-knowing. It's worth the gray areas, I think, not because it's easy for me. It's never easy. But I wanted something so much, I think I was willing to let go of my stubbornness. I want to be a person who has good with people, who doesn't have broken relationships all over the place. So, as it often does, this means that I have to let go of unrealistic expectations and go with the flow a little more.

Phew. Life is hard work, folks.

Poor and marginal

The test of courage comes when we are in the minority.  The test of tolerance comes when we are in the majority.

 ~Ralph W. Sockman

I was really surprised by some of the comments I got about my landlording posts last week. I admit, I was not very organized in my thinking, and that may have made me come across as judgmental, and I don't like that. I want to affirm that people make mistakes and are not perfect. We are all human, and we all see things a bit askew from how they actually are (perhaps how God sees them). And our skewed views are okay to have. I think the problem comes when we aren't willing to extend a little grace to ourselves and perhaps admit that we might be wrong.

I think it's more important to be flawed and fallible than it is to know everything. I think it's more important to admit being wrong, and maybe not knowing everything, than it is to hold to one's convictions so as to never admit defeat or vulnerability.

I was raised with material possessions. If I made the choice, even today, I could go back to that life. I am poor because I choose to be. And of course, that has become more difficult than I expected it to be, but it's also better than I ever expected it could be. I left a life of plenty, because there was no love, no real unconditional love, and if I have to be poor and marginal for the rest of my life in order to be loved for who I really am, then I will work my darndest to be okay with that.

Peace out mofos :)

Differentiate yourself.

I'm not exceptionally good at describing jewelry yet.

So I'm reading this book called Passionate Marriage, by David Schnarch. I guess you could say that it's a book about sex, but it's not really. It's more a book about how sex reflects our intimate relationships in both positive and negative ways. I've pretty much decided that I'm going to give it to people as a wedding gift, maybe two copies, because the book is all about differentiation, and how we can have better relationships when we don't expect the other person to define us or affirm our worth.

In most of my relationships, I don't need other people to give me worth. That's not a hard thing for me. Maybe at one time it was, but now not so much. However, that is not the case in my closest relationships. I have so much trouble saying, "This is where I end and you begin...This is you...This is me." I take on people's problems because I "love" them, but when I do that, it communicates that I don't think that they can handle their own problems, that they need me to function properly, and that's exactly what I do not wish to communicate.

Truly intimate relationships are difficult to navigate. They take constant work, and pain. Sometimes there are easier times than others, or else we wouldn't be able to cope, and we certainly wouldn't stay together. But if being human is hard, in and of itself, then being human with another human has to be exponentially difficult.

So to all y'all out there in long-term partnerships, more power to ya :) You are each a testament to the possibility of love to triumph.