Come on people! The Economy sucks! Whatever. Get over it!

What is going on with you? how are you doing? what are you thinking about lately? How was your Christmas? 

I'm tired of the small talk. For serious. Talk to me. Tell me what you are thinking. how you feel about this crazy life. 

Yesterday a client of mine came in to pay a deposit on a trip. We talked for about 45 minutes about life, love, positive feelings, negative feelings, the new year, how our thoughts can change our lives, how people can, to a point, control their own destinies. It was awesome. So many people these days talk about the negative economic climate. The DEPRESSION. The RECESSION. And I am sooooo tired of it! Why is everyone so freaking scared? Perhaps if everyone acted like nothing was wrong NOTHING WOULD BE WRONG! 

It seems elementary. Maybe it is. I don't know. think about it. 

Okay, enough. Really, though. What if we weren't so scared all the time? Most of us would keep living like nothing was amiss. And those of us who lost our jobs, and maybe had to change things a bit? for the most part we still have apartments or houses, for the most parts we still have parents who care, savings accounts, or 401K's to live off of. I know, it is not the best. (and I speak for experience, not just a feeling of camaraderie.) But it is faaar better than most. Suck it up. Deal with it. Feel positive. I don't mean to sound all spiritual on your ass, but maybe some fucking positive thinking will help the grand scheme of things. And I don't mean to cuss on blogger. Lord forbid someone judges me. But this subject is serious enough to cuss about. And I am not going to even give it close to its due. I am only going to say that we all need to just keep our chins up and try to realize that we only have one life, one chance, and we should make the most of it. we are the ones living on this earth right now, and nothing is going to change that. we have it better than many living before us and many living right now. How about thanking our personal "gods" that we have it so good and stop complaining that things aren't as good as our spoiled minds imagined they could be? 

I rant. I go on and on. 

The thing is ... we are materialistic and spoiled. We could do to go without many things we are used to. Maybe this is the earth's way of saying, "Ha, ha, screwball! Take these leaves and like them!" Really, though. Come on! How many channels do we need? How many "goods" until we are happy? Maybe we should try and enjoy each other and sunsets a little bit more...

Again. I rant. I go on and on. 

This night - of books and thoughts

I  can't decide how I feel right now or what I am thinking. It is a jumbled mush of goo. It is a mixture of cosmopolitans and oatmeal cookies. There is a toothpaste taste in my mouth, and i am shivering from cold. I am all over the place, and can't decide if I should go to sleep or seek the counsel of a good friend. Problem is: can't find any good friends close enough to talk to. Sound sad? Probably is. I guess. Michael is indeed a good friend, but he is asleep, and that doesn't make for good talking. 

Things seem hazy at the moment. My apartment is hideously cold. Our water heater is still unfixed, and the temperature is a cool 59 degrees. I haven't yet donned a sweatshirt. I figure I can beat it. It is all in your head, right? A friend once told me that if i just thought warm thoughts... well, you know. 

So here i am. In the old days I would take out my trusty lined college ruled journal and go to town, but these days I use the computer for the same purpose. Different, yet with similar goals. It just hurts my hand to write in long hand. Is that because I am older, or just more practiced with the keyboard lately? Either way... I have an apple now, and the keyboard is a lot quieter, I'll tell you that. I have been told that I am a violent typer, so for that I am very grateful for the soft apple keyboard. i can type as hard as i want without making a sound. Good times. 

I have felt pent up lately. i have been reading the same book for about three weeks now, which is very unlike me, and i don't know how much that has to do with it, though I am sure it is something. It is called "Journey to the End of the Night" by Celine, and good lord is it a long time consuming read. I keep forcing myself to read it because it was recommended to me, and for some reason I feel this need to finish it. It has become this epic road for me, and i feel that i must finish, and at this point I know that if I don't finish I never will. It is in no way a bad book, and for some reason I feel that it is probably critically acclaimed, but I cannot feel for the character, and don't think I ever will. Perhaps feeling is not the way to critically acclaim books, but that is the way I read. I feel it, and I think it, and i wax dreamy about the contents. I lie awake in my bed and think about the characters' plights. With this novel... i don't lie awake at all. In fact, it puts me to sleep. I honestly can't remember the lead character's name. It's awful, I know. Terrible. And the funny thing is that I won't remember it later. I won't get anything out of the book the way I am going, yet for some crazy reason I feel like I must finish. It is a task to be sure. 

I just can't wait for my next book. I want a challenge, but a rewarding one. This one isn't going to give me satisfaction at the end. It is not like a hike to a peak where I can look down and say "no matter how many times I barfed and how many toes I lost this view is worth the entire trip." nope. I am going to put the book back on the shelf, and probably forget the majority of it. 

then why read it? because I can. So that I know deep down that I got through it just because I wanted to. Or to make the next book that much more enjoyable. 

And not all reading is completely enjoyable during the read. Some of it is tough and/or dry, but it offers something. Hopefully this will be one of those. Hopefully I am not being over critical. (Though I am sure that I am.) i have read less well written books that were a struggle to go through, but at the end I was a better person for reading them. The Rasputin File. Krakatoa. To name two off the top of my delirious head. 

Tomorrow is Sunday. The last day of my four day weekend. Much of the weekend has been spent waiting on word about the water heater, and I have tried to be positive about the entire thing. It has been much better today, especially since watching Kite Runner yesterday. That helped. 

I hope for a positive day tomorrow. I hope to be in a good mood. I want to keep trying to see life with good eyes - keep appreciating the leaves and golden light and laughter. I'll keep trying. I will finish my book, and no matter what the outcome I'll be happy that I love to read and will look forward to the next one. 

Maybe someone out there will talk to me about books. We'll see. I know there are tons of people out there who still love to read. I know it. Where they are... Different story. All I can hope is that we are not too old to make friends. We can't be. Life is so short, and sometimes very empty. Or it can seem to be. We need to hold on to each other. Sometimes there seems to be so little to hold on to. 

The Kite Runner - and the day that happened before watching it

It was an unusual day. I have been slightly suffering from an annoying cold. It is the kind of cold that just affects my head and makes it feel pressurized. The kind of cold where I can function completely, but I have to excuse myself to blow my nose every five minutes. And it was the day after Christmas - always an odd feeling day in and of itself. Our water heater mysteriously stopped working sometime between Christmas Eve afternoon and night, so we didn't have any hot water for showers, and no heater because it is connected to our hot water heater. So, our apartment is a nice 60 degrees with hardwood floors. 

We dealt with the maintenance people all day long trying to resolve this issue, and were quite frustrated from it. It is a long and now boring story, so I'll just give the main points. We tried to contact maintenance, could not get through, were told not to worry, to enjoy our day, and it would be fixed. We were also told we would be updated. All day. No calls, no updates, we come home to a 60 degree house with out a note. Nothing. (And there is more, but again, this is not a rant blog, so I will stop here.) 

We were both tired of complaining. Tired of feeling so upset on our Friday night. Tired of regretting our move to this complex. So we decided to watch Kite Runner. As soon as we popped the movie in our entire mood was altered. 

Watching two young boys happily running around Kabul chasing kites altered our mind set. They were so happy, so care free. I immediately feel in love with their youth. The way they easily threw their arms around each other. The way Amir read to Hassan. (I also felt trepidation from the knowledge of what was to come. I read the book last year.) 

How can you feel badly about an inconvenience while knowing that a country is immersed in a struggle with tyranny? 

I hated Amir. Hated him with every fiber of my being. He was a despicable boy, as hated as Hassan is loved. And yet, even though his behavior is inexcusable, I understood where it came from while watching the movie. (And reading the book a while back.) 

This movie moved me as the book did before it. The movie was close to the book, and that is a rarity. I was moved by the children at the beginning. The boy who played Hassan was wonderful, and my heart broke during the course of his life. The odd thing was... I found myself crying less with sadness and more with this wonder - can people exist who are that good? that giving and forgiving? I don't even think he thought of it as forgiving. It was just his nature to treat the ones he loved in such a manner. It was like he knew the inside of a person so well that nothing they could do could alter that in the slightest. He just radiated goodness. And it moved me completely. I hope we can exist like that. That we can at least try to be pure in our centers. 

Maybe the reason I hated Amir so much is that it reminded me of a common human weakness. Jealously, peer pressure, need to please. It is all there in Amir, and I see it in all of us. We all have these moments, they are more muted, perhaps, in our daily lives. But they are there. 

Afghanistan is a beautiful country with beautiful people. I love seeing that on screen. There is one scene with a man who runs an orphanage that is incredibly moving. He spends his life trying to protect these poor children, and he doesn't have to. He could leave, and most people would think he is crazy not to. But he stays and protects even while certain choices tear him from the inside. 

Kite Runner is a wonderful story for the simple way that it weaves a single family's life through such a tumultuous time. It paints a picture of good and bad and blends the line between the two so that we understand how similar we all are without it pounding the idea into our heads. 

I think as a people it is important for us to understand that we are all the same. We need to reach out to each other instead of fearing our differences. It is so basic, yet so difficult for us to understand. It is as simple as listening to an old man's story in a bar. As easy as trying a new restaurant. Visiting a new city. It is as simple as patience. 

I want to try patience. Sometimes I become annoyed because people don't run through their days the same as me. And maybe if i just remember that below the daily routines that differ among our cultures we all long for our warm homes and the people who love us. We all crave our mom's cooking, and wish for peace and happiness. We need to remember that. I need to remember that every day. And I will try. 

Insurance Companies

I've just found out that i don't fit the profile for a so-called normal plan with any of the big insurance companies. Because of some of my so-called ratios I would be considered High Risk, and therefor would either be declined, or my monthly payments would be disgustingly high. Not only that, but not everything would be covered because the insurance company couldn't bring themselves to cover someone with my "ratios." They will not do a physical or health test, they will not check my medical records to see if i have had any health concerns in recent years, they merely received an answer on a standardized questionnaire and deemed me unfit to cover.

Health insurance in this country is a crock of shit.

Here's the deal: I was taken care of better when I had nothing. When I was about 22 I had to have my wisdom teeth pulled in a major way, so I went to Highland in Oakland. I was probably making about 15,000 dollars a year. They charged me $5 for the entire operation, and the staff was amazing. It took me all day, but it was totally worth it, and it went really well.

Then when I had to get contraception I went to Planned Parenthood. Again, I waited for an appointment, and I waited in the office, but it was so worth it! They were so nice and helpful, and made me feel like a valued person. I only had to pay donations, which I very willingly did. They gave me a year's supply, and asked that I come back for a check up after the year was up and talk to them. They also scheduled a follow up visit for a few months later to make sure the pills were working.

And then I got health insurance. I was so happy! I finally had coverage and I could go to the doctor without worrying, and maybe even without waiting for months for an appointment. And then every time i went in for any kind of appointment they asked me what was wrong, tried to get me out as quickly as possible, and shoved vicadon and muscle relaxers down my throat for any kind of irritation. They kept asking for my information even though I had a card with my name on it stating my membership. They couldn't find me on the list for the first six months of my membership, and I had to go to the administration office several times begging for them to straighten it all out.

I still had to wait for appointments. I still had to wait for a long time in the office, only this time they didn't seem as happy to see me when I eventually went into the exam room. I had to pay money up front on top of my monthly payments, and when I got my pills finally they only gave me three months at a time stating it was the way things were done, and i would have to just keep refilling until my yearly check up. Okay, I guess I can do that. Except my yearly check up never came. They stated healthy women should only have to see their female doctor once every two years. And then it was three.

And then I switched providers and i was so happy. I wouldn't have to go into a huge room with tons of sick people because of a headache or back injury. I could actually be treated as a person instead of a number on a card. Only i still had to wait for a long time, and they still asked for money up front as well as the per monthly payments. then they started sending me bills on top of that for things that I didn't know weren't covered. I stopped going to the doctors for wellness visits because I couldn't afford it, but on TV all i could see was health care providers urging people to come to see their doctors for wellness visits. Keep healthy, they said, stay on top of your life and body before something happens to it! And what a great idea! Isn't it cheaper for all of us to spend a little time, energy, and money on our health now instead of a hospital visit down the road? One would think, but most insurance providers don't always cover wellness.

And then I don't have insurance. And I am not so happy. I am a bit older now, and I worry about something happening that would cause bankruptcy. I worry that that one time something happened we would lose everything and have to start all over building our life that we have worked so diligently on. What if one of us got in an accident and had to spend a week in the hospital? Big what if, right? I know... but if it did happen we would basically be out of an apartment. We'd be moving in with parents.

So I am looking for insurance providers for that reason. Peace of mind. Just in case. Make me sleep better at night. And then I find out that the most affordable plans, still $200 a month, don't cover any wellness. Okay, no wellness. (Seems that would be cheaper, but okay.) Then I find out they don't cover birth control. Well, okay. Seems that birth control would be cheaper than an emergency cesarean section, but okay. Then I find out that even though I am super healthy, my ratios don't match their profile, and it would cost me probably $450 a month for "just in case" and even that wouldn't cover some emergencies. Also: when there is an emergency that $450 a month only covers 40% of your bill. Where does the rest of the money go?

I want to know who is getting rich off this bull shit. I want to know how this was structured and why it is so horrible. Why is it that most of us suffer just to be healthy? Why is it that the insurance is structured for accidents and illness instead of focusing on keeping us healthy so we don't need damage control?

Why are we focused on pills and medicines?

Why are so many people diabetic?

Why can't we get our act together? It is possible. Good insurance exists. Or at least better.

To Music

The last couple lines of your poem reminded me of one of my all time favorite poems by Rainer Maria Rilke.

***********

To Music





Music: breathing of statues. Perhaps:


silence of paintings. You language


where all language ends. You time


standing vertically on the motion of motal hearts.


Feelings for whom? O you the transformation


of feelings into what? --: into audible landscape.


You stranger: music. You heart-space


grown out of us. The deepest space in us,


which, rising above us, forces its way out,


--holy departure:when the innermost point in us stands


outside, as the most practiced distance,


as the otherside of the air:


pure,boundless,no longer habitable.
******************************************

Why does one write poetry? Question for the ages. Why does one think at all? Is philosiphizing a waste of time? Is just living enough? Or must we always question? So much so much.

hope you like this poem. I love his poetry.... hope you do too. I'll send something of my own soon, and talk about yours... which i liked very much.

love love and love

March 26, 2002

a sudden realization
no longer in hibernation.
fascination of creation
I live in this world,
full of emotions; often i am overwhelmed,
at times scared, uncertain,
yet i know of impermanence but
my soul is forever.
my being, the positive and negative will
live in another form...earth, rich soil.
I see the uncertainty, hopefully.
capabilities of the heart, love,
a dove flys freely in the morning sky
do not allow this to pass you by-

I see you in me and I wish we could love unconditionally,
is that possible?
is this love, or just a game with Russian rullet probabilities?
I admit I have played with the revolver but I am tired of spinning in circles, tired of the crazy game...yet, I too admit I do not always act in a way which would please my loquacious conscious...and why?
solely for pleasure, which then becomes fragmented into pain, ache of the heart, leaving me to guestion love!

you write poetry.
do you enjoy philosophy?
can peace exist without wars and
love without hatred? why?
do you enjoy the beauty of a sun rising
in the east above the blue ridge mountains?
and to see a sun setting off in the west?
you write poetry.
is it a message from the soul?
is it timeless?
do the words/phrases/sentences/stanzas create
pictures in your head of places you have never seen?
you write poetry
why?
are you able to express emotions without fear of...unknown?
are you curious about love, life, and your own happiness;
creating happiness for others to experience,
giving love of life, a life to love for all.
you write poetry.
it is in music
poetry exists in language
poetry is honesty

Thanks For Living

Driving to Chicamauga Battlefield this afternoon with Rusty; to hike, walk, jog, stretch, kick, punch, I tuned into one of the local Christian stations, and my heart again began to ache. I have heard the stories before. I have watched the, " 20/20", "Inside Edition" specials concerning the children in Cambodia/ Northern Thailand. I to know it happens here in the USA. Children are being sold and their bodies are being used in the foulest of ways. And it happens to them again and again. The children sell themselves often because they need food, and their family needs food, so there are probably numbers of parents who sell their children. Then I know (although I have never seen it firsthand) some of these children have undoubtedly been stolen.

Ohhh, my heart, my mind reaches out to all the children enduring acts of... of... of... well, what can i write: "sexual abuse" doesn't seem to cut it, for these little boys and girls are enduring so much more mentally. If they are able to become accustomed/ tuned out to the sexual penetrations they receive several times a day for weeks/years, then it only makes sense that their minds and bodies will carry sickness with them. I think of the children's' brothers and sisters, their moms and dads, their aunts and uncles, the sons and daughters running these sick, perverted, houses of hell.

I believe in prayer, I believe in meditation, I believe energy can be transferred and good vibrations sent wherever, anywhere, someplace. The man who traveled to Cambodia to check it out live got his stuff together, had investigators sent out and they got names and pictures to go with each little face. He presented the information to the right hands after much prayer and mediation. The Cambodian, "do-gooders" alongside their distant relative US, "do-gooders" got the caravans lined up and managed to safely rescue these kids, arrested the pimps, and justice is being served to the men/women who kept these children in their "brothels." Ummm, the man who traveled to Cambodia and helped to rescue the boys and girls said, "...the house is boarded up...,"....BURN THE SHIT DOWN, I said out loud in the comfort of pops F150, headed to the woods.

I began thinking more. Wondering what type of punishment these people are enduring. I pray and meditate that these ( I feel like I need to call them sick, gross, nasty, wrong) people, who sold little kids as young as 5, and the people who bought them for freakin' money are really receiving/enduring their just punishment. But what is just? Should they be sodomized repeatedly day after day, week after week? Should they be put in prison and given food, water, shelter, clothes? Should they be sent off and put to work in mines, or in the battlefields? Should they be killed, and never thought of again, never given another opportunity to get it right/to make the same mistake? What I really like to think is they will have remorse, they will experience guilt and in some way, any way, one day they will be able to give something back.
You understand, I mean it would be great if you could really know these peoples thoughts.

I think back to the kids my friend, and the lives they lead now after being rescued. I hope they have warmth, opportunities to color, paint, play with dough. I hope they read, write, swim, hike, run, climb, kick. I hope there voices are heard. I hope someone enjoys spending time with them. Oh, for I feel I could listen to them, or just play alongside them, I have in my own way I am sure, I look forward to tomorrow, and I send you this letter in hopes one day of having my own home, a safe haven for children to play, run, swim, climb a tree, with warm quilts on their own little beds.

------- Melissa wrote at 9:32 PM Wednesday, December 3 - California Time

I would like to think that the pimps suffer... at the same time I wonder, like you, if they can somehow "get it right" after punishment. And honestly.... I don't know how much people can really change. A person who can do something like that has a selfishness and a greed so deep that I don't think it can be undone. And you are right: child abuse doesn't do it. That is not what these kids endure. The thing that kills me is that for some of them it is all they know. How is it that anyone can live through certain circumstances like that? When I think of horrible suffering I wonder how one can get through it and ever think about any sort of goodness in this world. 

And yet time and time again we hear stories of tragedy, and the subsequent stories of those amazing people who not only survive, but go on to do amazing things with huge smiles on their faces. I know those are the lucky ones. I know that. But I want to hope that more of them are lucky. 

It feels so strange and useless to be here in the United States living the life of choice when there are so many people out there who are slaves to the government, or lack of government. I think that dreams and passions like yours are what it takes to make things a bit brighter, or at least give more than we receive. The least we can do is that. 

lonliness

I know there are countless numbers, oogles (ogles) of men, women, and children out there who have undoubtedly experienced a trillion times the heartache i feel this day! Ahhh, but I am hurting mentally, and spiritually, causing the physical to hurt as well. I am not so far down in the doldrums where I feel there is no hope of sunny, sunshiny days. I have met "shiny happpy people." I laughed so hard Saturday afternoon making crafts with my friend Amy, that my sides hurt. I went out this morning to the woods, breathed the cool air, felt the rain on my face in almost complete solitude. Sunday morning I hitched up Mic and Rusty in the back of pops red F150, and headed to the battlefield where i feel so connected. I walked the trails saw several adventure scouts and their families, I could smelll the scent of the fires being estinqguised. On the way home I stopped at a gas station for some tobacco, Mic and Rusty in tow, was listening to roots reggae (my ultimate favorite) met some man headed to Compton (Southern California) who began to "juug" with me saying, "You don't know anything about this (music)," I responded a lil' sarcastically, "Yeah I don't know anything about a universal message, the way music makes me feel...!" He laughed and his laughter was filled with soulfullness, his eyes with thanks.

Saturday Seth and I met Kavi (his daddy) at the East Lake Park. There were twin five year olds playing on the playground reccommended for kids seven and above, of course Seth plays on this side of the park too. The brothers were there together. They spoke no english (I never heard an english word) but only spoke spanish to each other. We had a great time together. One of the brothers let me wipe his lil' bloody nose...twice. They lauged as I climbed up the slide and down the "tubular, covered slide" repeating the colors in spanish and english as I went down. I missed a color and one of the twins pointed up high to the blue tube, oh yes i said, "blue, azul." I asked them to repeat, they weren't to interested, oh well! Seth shared his pistachios, raisins, mango, pineapple, papaya, sunny bears and his juice drink! Oh I prayed those boys wern't allergic to nuts. I asked them incorporating spanish/english/and some hand/voice language, the little boys smiled and continued to eat.

I have food to eat (I am able to eat), water to drink (I can swallow liquids), a roof over my head (occasional mice in the walls, scampering about in the kitchen, eeek-a mouse), love from my family, support, a beautiful son, a car to drive, gas in the tank....maybe their are no "diamonds on the souls of my shoes," but i do give thanks for the many blessings in my life. even as lonley as feel during the night time (that is when it is the worst right now) without my son Ras Ariel Yohaness Dickerson-Broadous. I have hope i won't continue to have this oh so lonely feeling, at least not as bad as i felt this day, things will get better!

Good Times

It is Tuesday afternoon. There is an oddly shaped bug chasing me around my office. The weather outside is not hot, but sticky, and a gray "film" covers the view to the hills. Smog? Overcast? All i know is that it hurts my eyes and makes me sad. I hate sticky weather and unblue skies. I would rather it be 40 degrees with bright blue skies than 70 degrees with hidden sticky hills. I may sing a different tune if i lived in Boston for any length of time, though.

The skies are what killed me in Washington, though. Not the constant rain or cold, but the fact that it was always overcast. I wouldn't mind 5 hours of rain if it broke and you could see a big blue sky.

I should go. but more thoughts on good juice later.

Around the World

I had this thought tonight.... This man on this show said something about wanting people to visit his town, and his town is way out in the country of Vietnam. And I started to well up... And i know that sounds crazy at first thought, but think about it a bit. There is a large world out there. There are so many towns and countries and villages... and we can't possibly get to them all. And some people have amazing ways of life or crazy stories to tell or families that shouldn't just be in one place... and here we are, thinking about our travels, and wondering about the world out there, and we have to keep wondering, and watching good programs, and longing to travel. And sure, we'll get to some of those places, but there is bound to be some thoughtful person out there who would love to share her way of life with us, and we'll never meet her. 

It just brings tears to your eyes. There is so much out there, and we can only experience so little. There are people out there meant to share their stories with us, and they will only reach hundreds. In the grand scheme of things hundreds is nothing. I can reach hundreds on Facebook. 

Sometimes it is just overwhelming. I am here, living life, working hard, trying to imagine what our world will be like with Obama (hopefully), and there are lives out there wholly unaffected by my melodrama. They are better or worse off for it, and i will never know. Sometimes what I will never know makes me double over with nauseousness. I could live to be 312 and i would know nothing of what goes on, and it makes me feel sick. 

but on a softer side.... There are so many real people out there whose stories are not told. Will we keep reading books? Honestly, I feel that is the best medium for those stories. Hopefully people keep reading. 

I guess all we can do is learn and read and try to understand, and for the love of god keep traveling. And seriously... understand that there are sooo many people out there who grew up differently than you. That is something I learn every day. We have to understand that no matter how open minded we are we are a product of our environment, and we have to keep questioning that. We all know that our parents didn't know all, so remember that every day. and try to understand that as parents if we are ourselves. 

There is hope. There has to be. Because there was hope one thousand years ago, and there was hope sixty years ago, and there is hope today. We are going to be okay, as long as we keep remembering that we do not know everything. And we have not been everywhere. 

City of Thieves and other thoughts

First of all, yeah I know it says "search inside." i know this.

Secondly, I feel that I have to mention that my computer space at home is not ergonomically correct. (at work not so much either, but definitely better than home.) So I have my keyboard... And no place to rest my wrists. Should one rest one's wrists? I do not know. All i know is that it is not very comfortable. I do have an actual desk which is a step up from before. But there is some truth to be told for ergonomical spaces. Seriously. Especially if you are spending any amount of time at the computer.

I digress....

The book - So far is wonderful. And I don't just say that. I enjoy many books. I read every day, but this book so far is truly enjoyable. The thing is - the book is about a boy's struggle with the war in Russia and the Germans' attack on his country. But somehow, no matter how obvious the war is, one gets the impression that it is about life's struggles no matter the country. It is about living without and being disappointed, and being repressed. (Obviously, there is SO much more to this story, but Read On.) The way Benioff writes it the story comes out as a vision of the way life unfolds... about the desires of a human no matter the circumstance.

And I love that. I love when I can feel a pinch of understanding no matter how far removed I am from a topic. Because we are all here and all alive, and we need to understand that above all else. We go through FAR different trials, but we need to reach out to each other, because this is but a small life.

I can't imagine living through a war on our own home land. It is incredibly foreign to me. Would we be desensitised through history, movies, and TV? Or would we be desensitized through the actual books of war? Through our actual people coming back and telling us in person how it was? Either way, I know it couldn't compare with us being there, and in that respect i would imagine that there is a mind numbing nauseous period where the war ceases to be a far away concept and instead infringes upon our every ability to function in a normal way.

How could being early to work possibly matter if every night we heard bombs going off over the city? Really? How have people, and do people, exist when the very essence of their life was threatened on a daily basis? I don't even believe in god, how can I continue to exist while that was going on? My thread to humanity is worn enough....

And I come back to the book. And books like it. And better than it. And not as good as it. And stories like it from storytellers from around the world who come back from any kind of war and tell us what it is like. We need to hear this. We need to be shocked and yet still feel connected. So we try not to repeat it. Or in America's position - don't want to repeat it, even though our government has decided that it is necessary. And we are here. And we should try and understand that people are dying.

Are we helping over there? Can you tell me? because everything in me says that we cannot be. It is not logical. If I felt that we were helping I would be for it. Honestly. I mean, concentration camps were something worth stopping. Slavery in all forms is worth stopping. Killing is worth stopping. . . Do the people in power think they are doing that? Stopping "Evil?" They say they are. Do they really?

How is evil fought with evil? If we have that much money to spend on fighting can't we build schools and real farms to help people help themselves to fight the government? I mean... Can't a billion dollars buy a lot of schools and farms and solar power? Really? Can't we teach agriculture and sustainability to help out as opposed to dropping grains once a month? And in the long run it would save us money hand over fist, and we would probably have a country cousin in the distance that would say, "Hey! Thanks for the help!"

Just a thought. I know it sounds crazy... But isn't niceness followed by niceness most of the time? If not always, majority rule would label that one person as a spoil sport and if the majority TRULY acts together a spoil sport will learn fast. (And I mean TRULY act together. Not let's wait five years and then help out our buddies against an asshole.)

Food for thought. And I am thinking. And that is good.

Later - 

I finished the book. And throughout the sadness and desperation was a simple hope. It kind of masked the cruelty. I don't know how. Am I desensitized? I don't even know anymore. Maybe I sensed the narrator's desensitized nature. He dealt with repulsive sights and unbelievable character, yet he pushed on. Would we be able to do that? Will we have to? 

Lev marched through the scenes in a book detached from the world around him. He mentioned the details, and mentioned the nausea, but I didn't feel it like i normally would hearing about the depravity of human character. Is that because he was detached, or because as a reader I knew that he would make it out of it? All I know is that I followed his character and related to him. He felt "normal" human emotions under extreme circumstances, and I understand that. And he performed in ways that would be incomprehensible under normal circumstances. 

And I keep wondering how I would be. Right now I feel wholly detached from the world around me. Honestly, i can't tell if that is good or bad. Whenever I really think about what is going on it is upsetting, but i never learn enough about it to care in the deepest ways. I think it i because I am scared of the outcome. I know that nothing great can last forever. I don't necessarily mean my way of life... The world has a way of going on for a while in uninterrupted ignorance or glee. But I mean that I feel like we are precariously perched on the edge of explosion. on the lip of a volcanic eruption if you will. And I'm not ready for it. 

Maybe the idea of war itself makes me feel this way. The things that have happened in this world unhinge me. I can't comprehend it. And the idea that it went on and is going on makes me realize that one day it will make its way into my life. And that scares the shit out of me. Each day I make an effort not to watch the news and hear about the politics of it all because the only thing I can do is hang on. 

And maybe i am being a whole lot melodramatic. I understand that. But on a smaller scale the talk of politics and the way people misunderstand each other makes me crazy. I can't take it. I don't enjoy feeling angry, misunderstood, or hearing about others being the victims of ignorance. Life is too damn short. I'm trying to hang on here. 

And yet... and yet... life is too short not to fight for it. 

And yet, and yet. It is all about others, isn't it. Never about us. Perhaps that is the mind that needs to change. It is just all so overwhelming. 

Through the looking glass...

This is Michael at a Bachelor Party. I like this shot!!! Have you ever considered why we do bachelor and bachelorette parties these days? I mean, more and more often you find that people are friends with both genders. Why can't we just call them something else and celebrate together? Don't get me wrong, though! I had such a good time at mine! I wish you had been there, Melinda! Dawn, Erin, and I rocked the house. And I do not use that phrase liberally.

So I guess I see the benefits of both types of parties. Speaking of parties... we should have a party soon! Are you still planning on having your birthday party at Mike's house? Let me know if it is for sure on and if you are doing it on Saturday the 8th until after midnight of course! Michael and I will try our damndest to make it! (job permitting for Michael. Whole other blog entry.)

I miss you! Until our next party...

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle

I have thought about how to write the entry for this book. I have thought about how to put it together so you really get a good idea of the ideas behind it and the families belief structure and how it all impacts our way of life. And the thing is... I'm not writing an essay, so I am just going to tell you how I feel about it. 

    There are so many different things going on in society nowadays, and I often find myself wondering if I have something that I seriously care about. I don't seem to have a drive for a particular cause. And the thing is - we don't need causes. We just need to be self aware and questioning, and if we always do those two things it will just get better. It is that simple. This can be applied to any number of problems. (I am not even going to get into the fact that one person's self aware is different than another's. We are just going to pretend for a minute that we are all logical empathetic human beings who are concerned about our lives and the lives of those who follow in the next generation.)

This book is about a family who move from a city to a country farm. It is about their goal to live an entire year on local foods. They either grow it themselves, or buy it from producers who live within 100 miles. That idea of it is simple. It kind of started as a test of sorts. (I spent about 9 months of my life as a vegetarian as a test of sorts to see if I could do it. I could. And then my mom made some delicious hamburgers. It was all over after that. But the test proved that i could do without something that until that point had been a big part of my life.) I digress. 

   I don't want to make this family seem like they are a family to be followed or revered; i just want to talk about their experience. We have come so far away from the farm and the table in this country. Most of us eat at TV trays on a regular basis, and frankly, I am sick of it. It may seem a little too easy to blame obesity on TV trays, but it is certainly a start. 

   In Japan they treat every meal like it is something to be savored. They stop and enjoy the bite, however small. In farm cultures, like southern France, Italy, and parts of the United Sates, they savor the vegetables that make up their great region in season. In this way they can savor the goodness that they have helped raise from the earth. In their way they are savoring every bite and appreciating the hard work it took for that particular bite to make its way from the earth into our mouths. 

   When you eat in front of the TV or in between emails at work it is difficult to appreciate the food at all. Mostly you are appreciating "Lost" or the fact that you have a deadline. 

   And the appreciation is just the start of it. Is it also too easy to say that our family togetherness has taken a hit because we don't share meals together? At the end of the day how many of you sit around a table and talk with your closest friends and family members over a home cooked meal? We are not talking four courses here. Just simple meals shared. Dinner time should be a shared slow down time at the end of a hard day. Long day. Or even boring day. We need to connect. 

   How many of us can honestly say that we know recipes from our grandparents? It hasn't always been that way. It is part of the culture in other parts of the world. I know so many people with grandparents from Mexico, the Philippines, Italy, and India who have passed down recipes complete with the attitude it takes to make certain kinds of pasta or lumpia. The crazy thing is... most of us have relatives from other places with great food cultures... but it has stopped coming down. We have it too easy. We have McDonalds, Subway, Chili's, and yes even Chipotle. Fast choices that we grab in order to save a few minutes. Well, guess what? Those few minutes we saved? Usually we spend those in front of the TV or on the toilet because the food hurt our stomachs. Hmmm. Maybe I'm off track. 

   Food culture is not just about eating. It is about our farmland that is going extinct. It is about our small towns producing their beloved products that they care about... and then going out of business because of Taco Bell and WalMart. 

   I think we do need to care about local food. A lot. We need to care about our local grower, because he or she cares about the food they create, and not only is it better for us, but it is freaking delicious. The local farmer has a family, and if they are successful, their family will continue producing yummy tomatoes for decades to come. They will treat the soil with respect, and therefor will continue to grow on the same soil for years to come. They won't be so concerned with the bottom dollar that they put pesticides on the food we eat because it will make them an extra $1000 this growing season because they know that in the next five years that $1000 will end up killing their soil and their livelihood. They are concerned about the future of their land and their children. 

   And we should be too! It is not about this year. How can we not see that? It is so evident. Before I read this book I understood that, especially about politics. Now it is in front of every political struggle I see. If we just stopped thinking about this weekend and starting thinking about ten years down the road we would be a more healthy country. Does that start with food? It may not seem like it, but we do need it to survive. Why not? 

Bullshit

I was going to post something here on my 10 minute break, but my head is so jumbled and crazy, I can't put anything together. I'd just like to say I'm feeling nauseous, anxious, and jubilant, somehow, with a little mania thrown in there somewhere. I'm also kind of hungry under the nausea.

I invited Kady to join our blog, but she is kind of intimidated at the idea of having an email address, much less writing on a blog, so we'll see!

Also - The Office is AWESOME!

Your Mom, My Mom, Etc.

Some days I'm just grumpy, like today. Everything, at least ALMOST everything, is irritating me. I'm attempting to make a wedding cake whilst customers, my manager, Sven, and flies are getting in my way and making a project that really shouldn't take more than three hours stretch on into the 8 hour mark.

On a good note: I took me-self out to Crossroads today and got a new pair of jeans that fit me and the cutest pink and navy retro style dress, all for only $30. Yeah for me!

Work calls. Raspberries. And yes, Three Sheets is awesome.

Three Sheets

I have found the wonders of "Three Sheets" through my husband Michael through his coworker Dave... and I must say... holy shit, I should thank Zane Lamprey for my embarkation on this wondrous journey of reborn alcohol lust. I must say... I have always had a soft spot in my heart for beer, and he has only enhanced that spot. He travels the world and drinks beer and makes fun of people, yet at the same time celebrates people, and it leaves you feeling whole and buzzerific. 

   Sometimes I feel this warm glow of embarrassment when loud Americans go to other countries and I witness their antics on television. Not Zane. Something about him... Perhaps his willingness to quietly make fun of himself, perhaps his willingness to try anything without pretending that he likes or dislikes it... makes me curiously attracted to his persona. 

   So now I am an advocate of Three Sheets on Mojo. Honestly, I have never even heard of the station, but now I want to go to Brussels because of Zane. I wonder what his wife is like. I bet it would be fun to drink with them both. Because if she could put up with him I bet she is a cool mofo. 

   Here's to cheers in all its glorious languages. Here's to drinking, having fun, smoking out, living large, and generally living it up. Because after all... We've only got one life. 

What it is all about

It is about freaking time. We used to write long drawn out stories on notebook paper passing it back and forth in our carefully crafted 12 year old letters. We used to read quietly for hours until one of us decided to run around the house looking for ghosts. Why not now? How has our creativity not morphed itself into the computer format? I will not wait another day! 

    Today is the begining of a new era. It all starts and ends with the word, so here it is. Give me your thoughts, lend me your wisdom, your annoyance with politics, your feelings about local food, your passion for murderess love stories. Tell me what movies made you cry, what made you laugh, tell me what movies took you from your house directly to a friend's because you could not bear to enjoy the pleasure alone. Tell me about a kick ass song on rock star where all three of you were in sync on seven, count them seven, occasions. I want to know. The public has a right, and we have a duty to share these thoughts with each other. Knowledge, however small, not shared is wasted. It dies with us. Lets share our crazy ideas and meanings. 

   so, an introduction of sorts. i have more entries to make. Starting with my thoughts on "In the Woods" and "The Fountain." And I know you have something pouring out of you. 

dont stop at books and movies either! Lets tell each other about great meals, independent beers, clothing stores. and invite people! 

until next time, cider wishes and mole dreams, melinda lou.