the tongue tied muse

The Tongue-Tied Muse Has Moved!

2007-08-01T11:02:00.003-04:00

The Tongue-Tied Muse blog is now over at: http://thetonguetiedmuse.com/.

Sunday Scribblings ~ Phenomenon "Elvis is Dead!"

2007-07-29T07:40:00.002-04:00

Phenomenon’s are this week’s prompt for Sunday Scribbling’s.

If you were an Elvis fan, please read with caution, I wouldn’t want to offend anyone.

The whole Elvis is not dead phenomenon is something I really stop and go huh? Don’t get me wrong I do like some of his music, though I was not a die-hard fan. I was only around eight years old when he passed. But come on people! Alive!

Elvis was influential musically. He lived a very extravagant lifestyle with woman, drugs and booze consistently. For what sane reason would he supposedly leave his family, clean himself up and go into hiding the rest of his life. I cannot be convinced that he would leave his beloved Graceland to live anywhere else in the world. He really wasn't the sex maniac that he let one to believe. Some say he really wasn't that interested in sex at all though he had multiple affairs with various women throughout his life. Elvis' true down fall began when Priscilla divorced him. It was at this time he began to become morbidly obese, and turned to prescription drugs even harder than before. His self-esteem hit rock bottom. Had his daughter Lisa Marie truly had her dad’s influence in here life after childhood, I just have this feeling that she would not have been so messed up. Somehow, I also do not see Elvis approving of her marrying Michael Jackson, no matter how famous and talented a musician people see him as. In his final years Elvis literally has checked out on life. He barely made it to performances, and when there was hard to understand. When he was at home he was practically bedridden. It was known that towards the end of his life that he had numerous health conditions. But in the end his drug use is what is known to have eventually ended his life.

Yes, I believe that Elvis is dead. He abused drugs and he abused his life. May he rest in peace.

See more phenomenon's here.

Sad Life Moments...One Bundle of Joy

2007-07-25T19:17:00.001-04:00

I am having very sad moments in my life.

The realization that that "happily ever after" with the man I married was never meant to be.
That every time I express my thoughts or myself to my parents they do not really care or listen.
That I am at an age where I should be prospering in my life doing what I love and being truly happy and I am completely not.
That for no reason at all I sometimes find my self in tears and wish I could snap my fingers and I can make everything go away and start from scratch (new place to live, new friends, totally different life.

But despite it all, I survive because of my one bundle of joy, my daughter. She is the most amazing, spectacular little person that I have in my life at the moment. She is my sunshine in my moments of sadness that makes me realize that I can continue to smile despite all the sadness that surrounds me.

Two of my favorite things at the moment...

2007-07-12T21:10:00.002-04:00

I love tea and I drink lot's of it. I am always seeking out new ones to try. Trader Joe's Pomegranate White Tea is my new favorite tea. I can't seem to go a day without having at minimum one cup. It also has hibiscus flowers and lemongrass mixed in and the flavor is exceptional.
Off and on this year I have been experimenting with eating RAW. In the last few months I have gone back to it and began using Agave nectar as a sweetener in most of my nut milks. When I went to the store the last time they did not have the usual brand I was buying so I decided to try this one; blue agave. Agave is sweet. So much so a little goes a long way. It is smooth tasting and also a very healthy alternative as a sweetener. I even started substituting it as syrup for my daughter when she wants to eat pancakes.

So if you haven't ever tried either these, they come highly recommended.

Upsherin

2007-07-11T20:05:00.001-04:00

I am going to keep this one short. Not too much excitement this week as I have been extremely busy doing multiple things at once. The highlight of my week so far was yesterday.

One of the boys in my daughter's class experienced one of his first rights of passages in Jewish tradition; an Upsherin. There was a small ceremony at the school, rabbi and all. Of course, in tradition of the event there was also eating and socializing afterwards.

I did not want to go the entire week without posting something.

Sunday Scribblings~Slippery

2007-07-07T12:43:00.001-04:00

What came to mind for me when I first saw this week’s prompt was Wham-O’s infamous Slip N' Slide. When I was a kid growing up in the 70’s, it was a simple little blue or yellow flat sheet of plastic that was powered by a sprinkler.

I can remember how much fun we had on the Slip N' Slide. Though at times, let it be known, sprinkler injuries on them were often.

Today the Slip n' Slide is made in a variety of styles (superhero’s, waves and animals). They now come with heightened protectors on the end for stopping, there are tunnels and boogie boards to make the slide even more extreme and enjoyable. They even have features that also allow you to bounce as you slide across them. And would you have guessed, that now multiple people can slide at the same time, making it great for competition with your friends.

When my daughter is of age, I can’t wait to introduce her to a Slip N' Slide. If they’ve come so far since the early 60’s when they were invented, won’t it be interesting to see how future generations of Slip N' Slide's evolve.

See more Slippery Scribblings here

Happy Fourth!

2007-07-04T20:52:00.001-04:00

Our country is yet another year older today! I spent most of the day at home with my daughter, playing on the computer designing a new website I am working on.

We went on an early morning walk. The weather for July fourth was surprisingly very mild and cool. I brought along my new point and shoot camera that I received for for my birthday and shot a series of pictures on our walk this morning. The we went to my parents for a cookout, and ate until we were super full. Not having a nap today, my daughter crashed in the car on the way home. Lucky me, I was able to put her to bed early tonight.

I am working on moving this blog as well over to WordPress so that I can expand into a different creative direction. Hopefully, I will have the new blog up and running by Monday of next week.

I had an interview yesterday for a part-time Electronic Marketing Specialist position that I think went really well. I am excited at the opportunity of having a position such as this, becasue it is a field I have always wanted to work in. So we shall see what comes of it. I am going to send out my post interview thank you letters tomorrow and then wait for a call one way or another. I also have a meeting with a search firm tomorrow morning to go over my resume for other possible positions. After not having interviewed for a new job in so many years I am surprised I am less nervous than I thought I would be.

Nice little break today but tomorrow is back to business in every sense. Until that moment though I am going to go catch up on a few shows I have tivoe'd before catching some zzzzz's.

This week is starting off much better than last...

2007-07-02T14:56:00.001-04:00

Happy Monday to all!

I am completely psyched that fourth of July is coming up. I love to listen to the fireworks, catch the tail end of the D.C. Fourth of July program on TV, while sipping on a nice glass of wine.

But the highlight it watching my neurotic dog, run back and forth through the backyard barking at fireworks, like she can actually jump into the sky and attack them. In my neighborhood it becomes a chorus of dogs barking constantly most of the evening from the time the fireworks start until the last sound of one trickles off.

I think this is also probably the first July fourth my daughter will remember and appreciate. As far as fireworks go, we will only have the sparkles this year. I haven’t set off big fireworks in so long, that I am a little chicken about trying it. When I was a kid, my dad and I would grab huge handfuls and set them off. What a blast I had; but I remember being much older than my three year old is.

Just finished reading one of the best writing books, I have read in a long time. Ariel Gore’s, How to Become a Famous Writer Before You're Dead: Your Words in Print and Your Name in Lights. Spectacular!

My time on my mini-vacation from my previous job is slowly closing in on me (my voluntary separation severance runs out at the end of August). I have been really busy trying to find a part-time job, so that I can still have time to concentrate on my writing. Have a job interview tomorrow for something I think might be a perfect fit. I am very excited and nervous at the same time since I haven’t interviewed for a job in over six years.

Sunday Scribblings~What is your sign?

2007-07-01T18:17:00.001-04:00

I am a Gemini!

Very intellectual and very analytical! My dual personality forms more in moments when I am mad. I’ve been told by people that they hate the fact that I can let it all out and then in the next moment move on, as if nothing ever happened the moment before.

I cannot stand when things become consistent. I thrive on change and change often. I am able to adapt very easily and I have found this to be of great benefit to the traveling and experiences I have had in my life.

I love to learn new things, but am very guilty of starting something at times, not finishing it and moving onto something else. Fickle at it's finest!

I am a lover of language written or verbal. I love to read, write, talk and debate.

I am a generalist, and realist, with a great sense of optimism. I try very hard not to see anything one-sided. My glass is always half empty. Though I can be biased when it is something that has a strong effect on me personally.

Lot’s of the people closest to me in my life are also Gemini’s; my best friend and my daughter. Gemini’s are fun and exciting people to know. I’m glad I’m a Gemini and wouldn’t want it any other way.

See more signs here

Poetry Thursday~Written spontaneously

2007-06-28T21:18:00.002-04:00

Craziness
surrounds me like
the black plague.
I come up
for a breath,
only to realize
why
I am deciding to find my own way,
and leave you behind.
Negative karma?
Is that what you think it is?
Personally,
I think it's your
negative aura that drags you
down,
causing you pain,
ill health,
bad luck,
whatever...
you want to call it.
What?
You have the nerve to think
it's me.
I don't stand by you!
Sorry, reality is
I am the only one
you truly have left.

~ Lisa 2007

Jeronimo

2007-06-27T12:39:00.001-04:00

This is my three year old! She already looks so much older than a three year old, but when I saw this picture, it really validated that feeling for me. This was sent to me yesterday from the parent of a child in my daughter's class who had the birthday party Sunday.

The party was at Jeronimo's, an inflatable slide and jumping center. These are all the rage now, especially for kid's birthday parties. There are about a gazillion of these in Atlanta with other names as well. We had my daughter's 2nd birthday at one.

I was a little surprised by this picture becasue she usually spends two seconds in the inflatable jumpers, before deciding she doesn't like all the kids jumping around her and on her. Then as quick as possible she makes a b-line for the little netted door. Where was I when she was actually in there having fun?

The first time she set foot in one of these places, she would not even dare to try on maneuver the stairs or to attempt to climb to the top of the slides. Now, when it is a new place, that she has not been, she might hesitate a bit, but once she realizes she can master it herself and has gone down the slide at least once. Then she we proudly say out loud "Momma, I did it," grinning from ear to ear.

Many thanks to the camera to be able to capture the moments we might unintentionally miss!

What a way to start off the week...

2007-06-25T18:53:00.001-04:00

In November 2004 my husband was in a near fatal car crash. According to the doctor's, he most likely passed, out and ran off the road, hitting a tree. They were convinced of this for two reasons. One he has a condition known as syncope and two becasue they felt that the extent of his injuries would have been more severe, had his body not been in a relaxed state. He broke his femur bone and was bed bound for a very long while. He was also very disoriented for a long time afterwards, slow to gain memory back, finding it hard to retain things in his memory and genuinely pissed off at the world, that this was happening to "him". The being pissed off at the world was most likely coming more from his bipolar side more than the accident itself.

In February, the following year he complained of headaches that would not go away so I set up an appointment with a Neurologist to have his head examined. After having an MRI, they concluded that the headaches were coming from a blood clot on his head and two days later he went in for surgery. What more could happen to one person I thought. It seemed like such a stroke of bad luck.

Through all of this we grew apart as a couple instead of closer, because let's just say he wasn't the nicest person towards me. I grew tired of trying to take care of and help someone who was always plating the role of a victim. Someone who became pretty nasty to me and his daughter, for no acceptable reason. But because of who I am though, I have always remained his friend.

This morning he called me from the hospital at 6:30. He had fainted, had a seizure and hit his head on the concrete floor, which caused a laceration and had to have staples in his head. So, tomorrow begins the round of doctor's visits to see why this happened and what can be done temporarily and in the future to make this stop.

Poetry Thursday~Dasies~Mary Oliver

2007-06-21T19:21:00.001-04:00

I have not read much of Mary Oliver so I checked out a book of her poems from the library. I decided not to read poem cover to cover but instead just opened the book to a page and this was the first one I came across. I felt it very appropriate for a sunny, hot summer day. Wouldn't it be nice to roam through a field of Dasie's?

Dasies

It is possible, I suppose that sometime

we will learn everything

there is to learn: what the world is, for example,

and what it means. I think this as I am crossing

from one field to another, in summer, and the

mockingbird is mocking me, as one who either

knows enough already or knows enough to be

perfectly content not knowing. Song being born

of quest he knows this: he must turn silent

were he suddenly assaulted with answers. Instead

oh hear his wild, caustic, tender warbling ceaselessly

unanswered. At my feet the white-petalled daisies display

the small suns of their center piece, their - if you don't

mind my saying so - their hearts. Of course

I could be wrong, perhaps their hearts are pale and

narrow and hidden in the roots. What do I know?

But this: it is heaven itself to take what is given,

to see what is plain; what the sun lights up willingly;

for example - I think this

as I reach down, not to pick but merely to touch -

the suitability of the field for the daisies, and the

daisies for the field.

~Mary Oliver

Happy Birthday~To Me

2007-06-20T20:55:00.002-04:00

Today I am 38! There was no party! Really, the only person that remembered was my best friend in the entire world. That's what best friends are. Her phone call was a nice sentiment for me. Somehow after she called I didn't feel so forgotten anymore.
The craziest thing is that this is the first year in a long time that my birthday has meant something to me. I see it as two steps closer I guess to the BIG 40 and coming into a new stage in life. One I can't wait to experience.

So here's to 38, a year in which I hope to learn, grow and discover more about myself. I want to have more fun, live out my dreams, build new friendships, let go of the things in my life that bring me down, continue to enjoy motherhood and simply be the best me I can be.

Environmental News

2007-06-19T07:49:00.001-04:00

Wanted to share this article in the NY TIMES on line today. I really wish more people would take issues of our environment more seriously.

Happy Monday~ and Revelations

2007-06-18T18:10:00.001-04:00

Today began as a very hard day. I felt sluggish, most definitely did not want to get out of bed. Not in the mood to really do much of anything but hang out on the couch and watch a movie. In the end though, I did manage to pull myself together and write!

Everyday like a little trooper, I am spending more time then I could have imagined in front of my computer grinding out something, onto the blank pages of Word. At first it was hard. Very hard. I would sit and want to do other things. Really, I felt as if I could do almost anything rather than staring at a blank computer screen’s word processing page. I guess it is true what writer after writer preaches and that just by sitting "it" will come. Something inside you really does click and then you have so much to say, good or not good.

I can't believe that I waited so long to get back into my writing. Sadly, I see it now as so much time wasted and skill lost that needs to be regained. But I look forward to the challenges I will face with myself and my writing. I crave attempting to gain back my momentum and my confidence as a writer.

I am too aware of the truth about the discipline I must have to continue on and I am ready for it. I am ready to face a world of rejection letters and criticism if it means that one day I will be a published author.

#64 Sunday Scribblings~Eccentricity

2007-06-17T18:28:00.001-04:00

I honestly have no clue what my eccentricities are. I guess on that level I need a better understanding of myself.

My friends would say my lack of drinking out of other peoples cup's or sharing drinks with others it eccentric. I simply just find it gross, so I don’t do it. I guess I also have been brainwashed about the “backwash factor”. I especially will not drink out of a cup that my daughter has (she’s three, need I say more). But I question that as an eccentricity.

I guess, if I would have to choose an eccentric way to be, it would to be an artist that does eccentric art; such as Dali or a musician such as Frank Zappa. These are two eccentric people I admire greatly. I feel it is their eccentricities that helped them be as talented and good as they were in their field. Then there is also my best friend. Eccentricity should be her middle name.

Find more eccentricities here

Poetry Thursday~Erich Fried

2007-06-14T22:05:00.002-04:00

Eric Fried is a poet I learned about while living in Germany. I actually first read his poems in German long before I read them in English. In either language they are powerful. I went online to see if I could find one of my favorites by him translated and came across this one, which is a new one for me. I put the English first and added the original as well. Enjoy.

One Hour

I have spent one hour

correcting

a poem that I have written

One hour

That means: In this time

1400 small children died of starvation

because every 2½ seconds

one child under five starves to death

in our world

Also for one hour

the arms race continued

and 62 million eight hundred thousand dollars

were spent in this one hour

for the protection of various powers

from each other

for the military spendings of the world

at the moment amount to

550 billion dollars per year

Our country also

contributes its mite

The question arises

if it still makes sense

to write poems

with the way things are

It maybe true

that some poems are about

military spendings and war

and starving children

But others are about

love and aging and

meadows and trees and mountains

and also about poems and pictures

If it wasn't also for

all these other things

then nobody really cares

about children and peace either anymore.

~Erich Fried
(Translated from the German by Anna Kallio)

Eine Stunde

Ich habe eine Stunde damit verbracht

ein Gedicht das ich geschrieben habe

zu korrigieren

Eine Stunde

Das heißt: In dieser Zeit

sind 1400 kleine Kinder verhungert

denn alle 2½ Sekunden verhungert

ein Kind unter fünf Jahren

in unserer Welt

Eine Stunde lang wurde auch

das Wettrüsten fortgesetzt

und 62 Millionen achthunderttausend Dollar

wurden in dieser einen Stunde ausgegeben

für den Schutz der verschiedenen Mächte

voreinander

denn die Rüstungsausgaben der Welt

betragen derzeit

550 Milliarden Dollar im Jahr

Auch unser Land trägt dazu

sein Scherflein bei

Die Frage liegt nahe

ob es noch sinnvoll ist

bei dieser Lage der Dinge

Gedichte zu schreiben.

Allerdings geht es

in einigen Gedichten

um Rüstungsausgaben und Krieg

und verhungernde Kinder.

Aber in anderen geht es

um Liebe und Altern und

um Wiesen und Bäume und Berge

und auch um Gedichte und Bilder

Wenn es nicht auch

um all dies andere geht

dann geht es auch keinem mehr wirklich

um Kinder und Frieden

~ Erich Fried

See more Poetry Thursday poems here.

Self Portrait Challenge~June~Enviornment

2007-06-12T15:05:00.001-04:00

I had HUGE intentions of growing veggies and herbs this year. So I began planting in the Spring. My little cherry tomato plant is so far the only thing that seems to have survived the long summer days of heat and no rain As usual in the good ol' south we are having a drought again. Go figure. Seems to be all too common these days.

All my herbs have dried and shriveled up. It doesn't seem to matter how much I water them on my own it isn't enough.

I have picked two tomatoes so far and as you can see from the picture there is another tomato working on it's way to becoming ripe.

see more environments here.

Good to be back!

2007-06-11T11:54:00.001-04:00

Well, it has been over ten months since I posted anything on this blog as of yesterday. It felt good to participate in Sunday Scribblings again, even though I found it difficult to write the post. My life in the last ten months has been crazy and filled with drama. It forced me to really take a hard look at where my life was going and how genuinely happy I truly was (which I realized I was not).

My job was really at a dead end, the company was letting people go and offered voluntary separation so I took it. It allows me the freedom of staying home and getting a paycheck for five months while I make my eBay business a full-time gig and truly try this time to pursue my passion of writing and dabbling in arts again.

My little one turned three on the 22nd of May and I am amazed at what a little individual she is becoming. I love watching her discover what life is about, forming new friendships and seeing the excitement on her face or hearing it in her voice, when she proudly shows what she is capable of doing on her own.Yet she is also a mini-me in so many ways it is frightening. As you can see from the picture she loves to color, (paint and draw as well) so I have signed her up for a class called Little Leonardo's at the Spruill Art Center near where we live. I think it will be as much fun for me as it will for her.

I also took a long break from my blog reading as well and it is great to read my favorites again on a semi-regular basis.

Have also been trying to catch up on all the books and movies I have not had the opportunity to enjoy. Actually, a great foreign film that I rented this past weekend was The Syrian Bride. It has a bit of everything since it is a comedy/drama.

Being home during the week really has allotted me more freedom on the weekends to spend time doing the things I enjoy and spending it with my daughter, family and friends.

As the summer winds down I will be enrolling myself in art classes for the fall. I want to take a pottery class and metal smithing. These are two things I took in art class when I was younger, but never really had the opportunity to take classes outside of school.

Well, the day is slowly getting aways from me and my stomach is telling me it is time for a nice BIG salad with Naturally Fresh's ginger dressing (it is so yummy!) for lunch.

#63 Spicy~Sunday Scribblings

2007-06-10T09:52:00.001-04:00

Thai food! The best of spicy there is. The best blend of spices such as salt, coriander or cilantro root, Thai peppercorns and garlic, paired with curries and chilies is simply outstanding. I personally like my Thai food “Thai hot”.

I also love chili waters that act as relishes. Condiments, salsa or seasonings to put over rice dishes or used as dipping sauces. I have become immune to the heat of the spice and no longer does my mouth burn or do hiccups creep up on me, at the end of a meal. I can now really appreciate the flavors and the bite that come from each morsel of food I put into my mouth.

My cousin who came into our family by way of marriage is Thai. She has taught me what the true taste of Thai food is. It is always more fun to make all the ingredients from scratch (making your own chili paste and spice mixtures) if you have the time, but buying the premixed ingredients from an Asian or Farmers’ Markets makes the food taste just as delicious.

More spicy Scribblings here!

Poetry Thursday ~ Who Do You Want To Be

2006-09-14T21:26:00.002-04:00

I mentioned in an earlier post that Charles Bukowski is one of my all time favorite poets. Not that I would want to be him. I simply admire his ability to be so raw and push the boundries in his craft. For an assignment we had to take an aspect of one of our favorite poets and write a poem. The following poem is how I imagined him on the days he was just a bit too drunk.

Jack Daniels

Trapped he sits coiled
like a snake on the cold
tiled bathroom floor.
Shivering like a child
afraid of the dark, his
head rests peacefully
on the white cushioned
toilet rim. Sweat drips
from his forhead like
rain off a gutter onto
his shirt. The room
spins like a tornado
in the air. He waits
for freedom, waves
crashing inside his
stomach. He slithers
silently to his bed.

~ Lisa 1991

See more poetry here

Sunday Scribblings #24 ~ I would never write...

2006-09-09T23:29:00.001-04:00

Something I would never write is…

or at least do not feel I am good at writing is non-fiction. I have difficulty when it comes to even thinking of a topic to write about. The thought of writing non-fiction paralyzes me. I envy journalists and magazine writers and their ability to search out a story or find a topic to write about and turn it into a wonderful piece of writing.

I remember my non-fiction writing class in college, which was a requirement for my degree was the class that I suffered the most in. It was the one that I wrote my absolute worst in. My papers always came back marked profusely in RED! I was so happy when that class ended and I never had to look back.

Then last year I had the itch to try again and decided to take an evening class that taught freelance writing. It was held through a program called Evening at Emory and we met once a week. The class was taught by a woman who writes and edits for magazines and various client on an array of topics. When the class started we were told that each week we would write in some form and share our work with the rest of the class. We also worked on in class exercises. Our final piece was to be a piece written about someone we had interviewed, the topic choice was left up to us. The only catch, it had to be a random person that was in no way related to us.

Uh-oh, at this point I knew I was in trouble. I had no clue who I would choose.

As the class went on I struggled with each and every assignment. I would come to class with half written papers because in most cases the endings would eluded me or I just had no idea in which direction I was suppose to take it. We even had the opportunity to write an Op-Ed piece and submit it to newspapers of our choice. When we were tasked with writing a query letter, I chose to write one for an article that had to do with a form of meningitis that some dogs manage to acquire called GME. When it came time to read mine out loud to everyone in the class they seemed so impressed. But, I felt foolish when I was at the end and I needed to ask other’s how I should end the letter because I had not a clue. Once again I was paralyzed. I was stressed because I could not get mind to wrap itself around the task and move forward with it.

A very good friend of mine is currently making her dreams as a freelance writer happen. She is an outstanding writer of non-fiction. Her main genre is fitness writing. She also works as a Marketing Assistant for a Jewish Community Center where she creates the copy for the monthly community bulletin. We often talk about writing and I have often confided in her my unwillingness and fear to write non-fiction. She says ideas just flow within her and she never has a problem to take those thoughts and put them on paper. This is something I can’t envision or comprehend really.

I always feel as if I am strictly a fiction writer. I feel my inability to grasp the concept of writing non-fiction makes me question whether you can be a true writer without being able to write in both genres.

In my mind I say I would never write non-fiction. But in my heart I know that one day and with enough practice that I will be able to say I can do it. Then it dawned on me, that is exactly what I am doing when I blog.

See other I would never write's here:

The Long Weekend

2006-09-06T12:17:00.001-04:00

The long weekend lasted into today for me and I must say going back to work was a real bummer. I will be so happy when the things I am working in my spare time allow me to take a different direction in life, which will include me working from home and for myself.

I spent the weekend painting my daughter’s room. I choose a blue for the walls, Morning Breeze by Behr. Yes, I know she is a girl and most people think of blue for a boy’s room, but I saw a picture in a Pottery barn catalog that had a blue and pink theme, so that is what I am going for. She already had the pink curtains and I decided to try and work around them. The only item of furniture I have chosen is this bed from Ikea. I can’t wait for that shopping spree, because there are so many wonderful treasures for kids to be had. My friend Alisoun is going to sketch something kid oriented for me, that I can use as a stencil and transfer to one wall. Then I will paint that design in chalk paint, so she can have her own drawing space in her room. I am excited for the finished product and will post pictures then.

I discovered a bunch of new artists that I stumbled upon through Pandora.com. I love this site. I listen to it mostly at work. I think it is a great way to discover new music. I have fallen in love with listening to: Brandi Carlisle, Anna Nalick, and Brooke Frasier. At the moment I can’t get enough of their music.

I decided that I am opting out of the Self-Portrait Challenge for this month. I do not have many pictures with me and other people, at least recent. I really like to be behind the camera and not in front of it. I am not very photogenic. I only take good pictures when I am oblivious to the camera being there.

I ordered and received Keri Smith’s book, Living Out Loud, this weekend. I am so excited, and can’t wait to spend some time doing activities from it. I am already deeming this to be a relaxed weekend. A tiny bit of cleaning but mostly playing. The temperatures have started to cool a bit. We are only reaching the mid 80's during the day and then in the 60's in the evenings, so spending some time in the yard this weekend might be on the adgenda as well.

Today I was reminded by my boss at work that it is my 3rd wedding anniversary. Our boss has all our anniversaries flagged in his Outlook program. He reminded me last year as well. Guess if it had been important to me I might have remembered myself. Honestly, when you are not living with your significant other any more, and you have no intentions of getting back together, I do not see significance in the anniversary. I told him he could delete his flag. I am only waiting for residency paperwork to go through and then I will be filing for divorce.

Hopefully next year I will be a single woman moving on with her life.

Sitting on the Sidelines

2006-09-01T14:54:00.002-04:00

I have been away from blogging for so long now. A combination of being busy, unmotivated to post and completely intimidated by what I have been reading on other blogs. It made me question whether blogging really is for me.

I read a lot of blogs and various types, but there are a few blogs that I have to read daily because I find these women so inspiring as well as talented artists. (Jen Gray, Chronicles of Me, Wish Jar Journal, Superhero Journal, Ramblings of an Ever Hungry Mind, Ink on My Fingers, La Vie en Rose , Be Present Be Here, and Moonlighting Artist) The way in which these women write about themselves and their lives. How they put themselves out there and open themselves up is to be commended.

When I sit down to right a post I am constantly deleting my thoughts. Always watching my words, how I say them or what I say. Fearing that someone I know well might stumble across my blog and get upset that I wrote about them or will be shocked at my openness. I also worry that my family will be hurt, if I write the harsh and honest truth, of how they effect my life.

I struggle with opening up on paper and sending it out in the world for all to see. The craziest thing about that to me is, that I have always been the type of person who never really cared what others thought of me. My motto has always been “either you like me for who I am or you don’t. My loss or yours?”

This morning the first blog I read was A Bird in Hand (Lisa Congdon: which I also read daily). It was about being your own person and how it resonated with me. I am a strong believer in being one's own person, though I have only been half my own person throughout my life. I have to admit, I have put half of who I truly am on hold, becasue I grew up not being supported in who I was or was not understood for who I was by my parents.

Now I am working to be my own person in full and not let others determine what I am or what I become. This is a journey that I am greatful to be making and looking forward to see the outcome. When I do this, then "I will be free".

I am beginning to realize through reading the words of these other women that I don’t need to fear. I need to just put it out there and what comes, comes. I do not have control over it after it ends up in Webland. But I do have control over whether I choose to blog and to see where it takes me.

Into September we fall. Happy Friday and have a great weekend everyone.

Self Portrait Challenge ~ Enclosed Spaces

2006-08-22T20:08:00.001-04:00

Enclosed in a book! This past week I have been reading a lot about eating raw. I am on my third day of actually trying it.
more SPC's here

Poetry Thursday ~ We're Free

2006-08-17T19:21:00.000-04:00

This weeks poetry thursday is a free choice. This is a very old poem form college I found this week when I was cleaning house.

Jonzin'

On Monday morning she
has heavy, black bags
under her eyes,
There's no food on the
table, or in the fridge anymore.

She walks slugglishly
around the house dreading
another day of tortuous
interviews.

A cup of cold coffee in
hand, she stares into spcae
and lets out a sigh.

The small black and white
tv has jsut announcd
"more cutbacks", and there's
no hot water or heat to
compensate for the pain.

In six months more, jobs
will be available, the recession
perhaps at an end.
As she closes the door
tightly behind her and
turns the key.

~ Lisa 1991

more poems here

Self Portrait Challenge ~ Enclosed Spaces

2006-08-15T20:56:00.000-04:00

Stuck between the door and the screen calling to the dog.

Mirror Meditation ~ Monday

2006-08-14T21:03:00.001-04:00

I began my mirror meditation again this weekend, after not participating all last week(bad me). I must say it is a real challenge. I have a hard time sitting still. I have tried time and time again in the past to meditate and could never seem to complete any sort of meditation for any length of time. Getting your mind to quiet is tough.

But I sat there for the past few days, for at least 10 minutes at a time and with each day it seemed a bit easier. In fact at some point I found it relaxing. Time to reflect and oddly enough, I just studied my face. I looked for every perfection and imperfection.

Yesterday, I decided to get a series of pictures of myself from the time I was young until now. I taped them to the mirror and did a comparison. Crazy as it is, though I have become older with each year, I still look exactly the same as I did when I was little. I remember always wanting to look my age. I figured looking my age in some respect would make people view me different, treat me different or show me a different type of respect as a true adult.

But as I looked at these pictures and compared them it really sunk in that what is on the outside, truly says nothing about what a person is on the inside.

Sunday Scribblings #20 ~ "Who Else Can I Still Be?"

2006-08-12T22:21:00.001-04:00

Last week’s prompt had me in a completely different place and when I read this week’s my mind flooded with so many thoughts I wasn’t sure where to begin.

I have been reading many blogs lately where everyone is on the path to true self discovery. A group of us have even begun a mirror meditation (though I must admit that this week I didn’t do it at all, a time factor and hectic week). Then I realized that I never really make time for myself and haven’t since the birth of my daughter. There is also the underlying fact of all the drama and chaos I have gone through with my husband who I am now separated from.

Ironically, he gave me a half day at the spa certificate for my birthday that I finally used this past Friday. It was my first ever massage. I had a facial too, but haven’t had one in a while. It made me realize even more how I have let myself go; that I do not take the time to take care of me.

Even if it is not going to a spa, it is about the fact that since I had my daughter, I have given myself permission somehow to let myself go; I do not workout like I used to and I do not eat as healthy as I used to. I see that I do not value the person I was before my marriage and my child. I do not even live in the same body as the person I knew from before. I have become a me that I do not even remotely know nor do I remotely want to be.

I remember when I first came back to the U.S. after living in Germany to give up my life there so that I could put myself on a better career path. I made a huge transformation in my life. I worked out daily, I quit smoking and I was on a search to be a better me. Only that time is non- existent to me now, always trying to improve myself.

If I must be honest with myself, I have put all my tiredness and emotion into watching TV and drinking wine. Escapism, perhaps? Unfortunately, in the last two years of my life all my friends have moved away and those who remain are single. It just happens that you live a completely different lifestlye once you've had a child. So, I dealt with my husband's issues and , tried to make a normal life for my daughter. I also have covinced myself of not felt worthy enough, to go meet new friends. Which for the other "me" was never a reality. I have spent the last year or so in complete isolation. I fell ashamed and like a complete loser I know I have way to much to offer to the world, to stay trapped like this.

But this idea of blogging, even though at times I find it to be such a closed community, has allowed me to open up and express myself in ways that maybe I might not have otherwise. I find valuable comfort in reading other peoples blog’ s and realizing that I am not alone out there in feeling this way. It forces me to deal. I have tried endless amount of times to keep a journal and find myself going weeks or months without ever writing a word. But to be able to have prompts such as those of Sunday Scribbling’s is a blessing because I can truly write.

So, I would have to say if it was a question of “who else I could be,” it would be that I want to regain “me” back. The person, I had more self respect for, then the person I see daily in the mirror. The confident, outgoing, self assured and person that felt truly beautiful. The funny, adventurous and spontaneous person that I always was.

Somehow, she has vanished. I struggle daily with coming out of this funk I have put myself in and regain my identity. But at the same time I have begun taking baby steps. I have decided that I am going to cut out the drinking for awhile, I have begun to slowly working out again, and have included my daughter in the plan as well, so we now take walks or do yoga together.

I will continue to find inspiration in others and set obtainable goals for myself. I am confident that with a bit of time and my new outlook that I am creating for myself that “who else I could be” is to find myself again.

more Sunday Scribbling's here:

Poetry Thursday ~ Unfinished Business

2006-08-10T13:12:00.001-04:00

Who doesn’t have unfinished business? Just before my soon to be ex-husband moved to the U.S. and we were suppose to get married, the company where I work had just hired new IT contractors.

One day, in walked one of the contractors, who for some odd reason just caught my eye.

He wasn’t drop dead gorgeous or anything. In fact, he had this earthy, kind of Kevin Baconesque look that attracted me. He sported the I jsut got out of bed hairdo, jeans, flip flops and a t-shirt. 5'9, a thin but defined frame you could see his nice abs through his shirt. I repeat I was smitten.

When he finally came around to update my computer we started chatting and flirting a bit. So his personality was even better than his looks. Could this really be? It was at that moment that I started to get the butterflies in my stomach every time I saw him, or would blush when others talked about him. There was even a little part of me that though he made coming to work even more enjoyable, if I knew I would get to see him. And even though I would occasionally run into him outside of work at the most odd places, it never went further than our flirty conversations on the job.

The people I work with, especially the men, thought that I should take advantage and have one last fling before I got married, but this was just not my style and eventually his contract ended and my life continued. Three years later he has returned to working here as a contractor. Oh my, some people say when I see him a metamorphosis occurs.

No, if it must be said
I wasn’t in denial.
Just lying to myself perhaps or others
in order to shield myself from you,
finding out how hot I really thought you were.
Hiding the office whispers and giggles, the redness
which surfaced in my cheeks or the nervous way
of locking of my finger tips and twirling of my hands
at the mention of your name.

Yes, perhaps for the thrill
I should have thrown away my morals
and values for a romp in the sack .
At least I would have put and end to the mystery
of what in my fantasies I thought I was missing.
Un-clouding the images I had of being engaged
in your intoxicating smile and laughter while lying in your arms.
Secure in our flirtatious ways with one another.

Yes, I lusted after you, in fact I still do
whenever I set eyes on you.
But I am not so bold, nor secure
to make the approach, dive in and make the kill.

In fact I might never be secure enough and
the great peace in that fact is that it means
I will never loose my perfect image of you
or my giddy school girl crush.

~ Lisa 2006

more Poetry Thursday here:

Sunday Scribblings #19 ~ "Who Else Might I Have Been?"

2006-08-06T22:33:00.001-04:00

image courtesy of getty images

Can we be an object instead? I am not so sure that I would want to be another person. It only means taking on someone else’s problems and life. I am still in the midst of trying to get mine in order.

If I could choose at this moment to be something else I would want to be a book; though I love books of all genres, I would love to be a mainstream fiction book. I would like to be a well told story. One that someone would pick up time and time again to read, because they just loved the story and all the emotions they felt while reading it, that it gave that much meaning more to their life.

I would want to be a book for other reasons as well.
Books are the source for knowledge and enjoyment.
Books are great ways to escape into worlds unknown.
Books create and fuel emotions within us.
Books help bridge gaps in the world.
Books are diverse and unique.
Books are the source of many good and kind acts.

Without books in the world what good would it be for us to be human?

See other Scribblings here

Poetry Thursday ~ Music

2006-08-03T08:42:00.001-04:00

Last night I went with my little cousin to see Fiona Apple at Chastain Park. It seems so crazy to me to think that I haven’t been to see her in person before now. Especially, because I have been a big fan of hers, since her very first album. Somehow, one thing leads to another and I never really had the chance.

It was also my first time seeing a concert at this venue I saw her at. I have only two words “it rocked”. She is even more amazing live. Fiona’s lyrics as well as her music is intense and her band, outstanding. There is so much talent it is no surprise that you can’t be disappointed.
The whole time I was at the concert I was thinking to myself that I wanted to use the lyrics from her song “Better Version of Me” as this weeks Poetry Thursday entry. So wasn’t I pleasantly surprised when I came home, went to the site to see what the topic of the week was and found out the music was this week’s theme.

The song I am posting is one of my all time favorites from her new album “Extraordinary Machine”.
These past weeks on blogs I have been reading there has been a lot of writing about self discovery, bettering oneself, and moving forward in our lives. This is a point that I am at now myself and have been working on. Music and good musicians are a great way to seek refuge to help through the emotions that creep up.

"Better Version Of Me"

The nickel dropped
When I was on
My way beyond
The Rubicon
What did I do

And of the games that I can handle
None are ones worth the candle
What can I do
I'm a frightened, fickle person
Fighting, cryin', kickin', cursin'
What should I do

Oooh, after all the folderol,
And hauling over coals stops
What will I do

Can't take a good day without a bad one
Don't feel just to smile until I've had one
Where did I learn

I make a fuss about a little thing
The rhyme is losing to the riddling
Where's the turn

I don't want a home, I'd ruin that
Home is where my habits have a habitat
Why give it a turn

Oh, after all the folderol
And hauling over coals stops
What did I learn

I am likely to miss the main event
If I stop to cry or complain again
So I will keep a deliberate pace
Let the damned breeze dry my face

Oh, mister, wait until you see
What I'm gonna be

I've got a plan, a demand and it just began
And if you're right, you'll agree

Here's coming a better version of me
Here it comes a better version of me
Here it comes a better version of me

~ Fiona Apple

more music here

I Simply Broke Down

2006-08-02T23:57:00.001-04:00

Yesterday, I began the 2 month mirror meditation challenge. As I stood in front of the mirror and felt a surge of tears stream down my face. My cheeks became hot and flushed. I coudn't speak a word. I knew at that moment, that this was going to be good for me. This is going to be a release of everything that I have had pent up in me for so long. There was sadness in that mirror and I hope by the end of this challenge there will be joy.

Sunday Scribblings ~ My Two Cents

2006-07-30T10:23:00.000-04:00

“The truth is rarely pure and never simple.”
~ Oscar Wilde

Writing is flowing through my veins ~ must practice

2006-07-26T20:20:00.002-04:00

The sky was covered in dark, grey clouds, on this fall morning in Bonn, Germany. As I had done the day before, I was on my bike, riding down a path along the Rhine River to work. It looked as if it might rain. Only, the weatherman on the news had said it should clear up by early afternoon, and that the sun would shine for the rest of the day. I reassured me enough to take the chance and still bike to work.

Today for some reason was the first day I noticed, that in this small city, there was a great amount of traffic; especially that of bicycles. Everyone fought fearlessly, to make it to wherever their destination was, be it work or just on an errand. There was always a sense of urgency to be there on time.

As I approached the little town of Plittersdorf where I worked, the air seemed to be a bit colder and the sounds in the air a bit louder. The school where I worked overlooked the Rhine River. The scenery was a picturesque view of old houses, green hills lined with tress and a slight scent of burning firewood always filled the air. At my destination, I slowed the bike down to a full stop, dismounted and began walking away from the path; eventually entering the schools’ soccer fields, I noticed a man sleeping under a tree directly in front of me.

His body was half covered by an old worn out blanket and his feet were sticking out. He had on four layers of socks on and no shoes. A medium sized hole on the big toe of his right foot exposed a small area of flesh that was dirty. I walked towards him slowly, to get a better look. He was breathing softly and mumbling to himself in his dream; perhaps he was dreaming of a better life.

The coat he was wearing looked stiff. It had a slight coating of mud and various unrecognizable stains that covered it. He had a thick salt and pepper beard that was turning slightly yellow in color. The type of yellowish stains you would get from tobacco smoke. The skin on his face was drawn tight and looked tough; like an elephant’s hide, full of wrinkles.

As I watched him sleep, I could picture him in is younger years, possibly living deep within the jungles in some far away land, where the sun always shined; living it up with his friends and feasting on fabulous exotic foods and drinks. It was not a surprise to see that today, he still drank. Not only could I tell from the smell that surrounded him, but also from the half empty bottle of gin that was nestled next to his stomach.

He must have sensed at that point that I was watching him. He began to shift himself slightly and was breathing a bit heavier. Scared that he was going to awake, I began to walk away slowly, and in a backwards motion, so that I could still observe him.

He suddenly let out a deep choking cough that jolted him out of his deep sleep. He sat upright, looked around and took a swig from the gin bottle. Like a small child he lifted himself up from his hands to a standing position and spread his arms into the air to stretch. He reached down grabbing the bottle, blanket and all his other belongings. With small staggering steps he walked towards the water.

People passing him went around him or avoided him all together; occasionally looking back at him after they had passed. He climbed slowly over the rails leading to the water and was no longer in my sight.

From the distance though, I could hear the splashing of water and envisioned him cleaning himself up, by taking a bath in the Rhein.

I turned around and headed back towards the school. Wondering not only what my day would be like, but what his would be like as well.

Self Portrait Challenge

2006-07-25T21:59:00.001-04:00

Self Portrait Challenge ~ "me as a mom"

This is a photo of me and my mini me, so I have been told. When I found out I was pregnant and when I was due to have my baby, I was really excited becasue I had always wanted to have a Gemini child. I am a Gemini too. I know it sounds crazy. But I have not one regret. For as crazy as it might become in my household, I am looking forward to lots of fun too.

This is the reason for the moment, that I do not get to post on my blog as often as I'd like and why I've missed most of this month's challenge. I have spent a significant amount of time this past year just looking out for her best interest and as I mentioned in a previous post, my life has been a complete mess to say the least.

It has been a challenge being a semi-single mom. As days pass in life, you can never really know what obstacles you will face. But I consider myself a very strong person and I can always work with life's little detours. Especially if it means I will become a better person and learn from them.

We have been battling constant germs since my little one started going to the MJCCA Preschool here in Atlanta. It seems that every week she is out for being sick, she gets something new upon her return. But she is a trooper. Even when she's running a 103 degree fever and can be at he lowest point in terms of sickness, she amazes me with her bright personality and the umph to carry on. Invincible.

She has taught me some much about wanting to be a good role model. And, how important it is to make sure she has a future in this world. So every day I search for ways to make that happen.

We are creating an unbeliveable bond. I look so forward to watching her grow up and to see how she becomes her own person. I can't wait to see what path she chooses in life. I will be there for her at every moment she needs me and I will be there with open arms.

In my opinon, being a mom is one of the most rewarding privledges that is bestowed upon a woman. It is life altering and I wouldn't change it for the world.

More Self Portraits here

Sunday Scribblings ~ Thief

2006-07-23T08:35:00.001-04:00

Lara sat crossed-legged, book in hand, on thick wool blankets that laid haphazardly in front of a large colonial style fireplace in her living room. The crackle of the bright orange and blue flames coming from the fireplace was the only sound in the room, besides her heavy rhythmic breathing. The silence was comforting yet at the same time a bit frightening. Lara had been coming to this cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains in Blacksburg, VA ever since her fiancé of two years had dumped her and gone off with someone else. She had fallen so in love with the time she spent here, that she made it a habit to come up every winter, for at least two weeks to get away from city life.

As stood up to go get a cup of tea from the kitchen, she noticed a shadow or what she though to be one by the window. Out of the half drawn curtains she peered cautiously. Bending over, she grabbed her glasses from the end table the sat directly next to the plush green velvet sofa. She put them on and then wandered to the other window in the room, where the angle looking outside, would perhaps be better. She slowly drew the curtain back and looked out onto the large acre of land on the side of the cabin. But she saw no one, just a vast area of land covered in a blanket of beautiful pure white snow. There were no signs of foot tracks. Only, the moonlight hitting the top of the snow, causing a glare.

“Maybe her mind had been playing with her,” she thought for a fleeting moment. She recalled the gunshots she had heard earlier that evening but had not paid much attention too. She glanced out of each window for a final time. Feeling secure again she headed to the kitchen to make the tea.

Directly underneath the window ledge of the living room where she had been peering from, laid a tall, thin man, with dark long hair and a gray overcoat, faced down in the snow. He was lying as still as a dead animal and breathing only as slightly as he could. “It’s best not to move,” he was thought to himself. He did not want her to become scared and call the police. But as he heard her footsteps make there way to the kitchen, on the other side of the cabin he stood up slowly, and headed towards the wood shed in the rear of the cabin. As he stumbled through the snow he left a trail of blood following him.

The man approached the door of the wooden shed with a stagger; he was tied and losing energy as the blood dripping from his left shoulder, continued. He reached his right hand out to pull the latch on the door and it opened. A strong smell of pine came from inside. He noticed that there was only a small portion of the shed that was available to him to hide, so he slipped inside and quietly shut the door, leaving a small gap for air to come through.

Lara finished making her tea and headed back to the living room, but instead of reading she decided to see if there was a movie on. She grabbed the remote control and flipped on the tube. Across the screen in big letters with a white background ran the words “Breaking News”. Lara turned up the volume and listened intently.

“There is a man on the loose who attempted to rob a small convenience store in town. His attempts were foiled however, when the owner, who just happened to be coming back to the store to pick up something that he had forgotten and discovered the man in the rear of the store and shot him,” the news reporter said.

Lara’s mouth dropped open and she became scared. She jumped up from the couch and checked all the doors to make sure they were locked. In the background she could hear the news reporter continue with the story.

“The owner of the store shot the man with a shotgun but he managed to escape and ran towards the mountains. The police are searching for him and he is not considered to be carrying a weapon. We still caution though, that he could be dangerous, should he cross your path. He is wearing jeans, a navy blue shirt and a grey overcoat. It is also known that he had a black ski mask over his head,” he continued.

Lara quickly changed the channel, stood up and turned on the lights. She was really frightened.

In a matter of minutes she could hear dogs barking outside and the sounds of sirens. Sounding as if they were getting closer and closer. She could visualize them going cabin-to-cabin looking for this man. Then she began to wonder just how far he had made it with a gunshot wound and if he would show up here.

Out in the wood shed the man was trying to force himself to stay awake but he was finally unable to and passed out, his last breath ever so slight. His body slumped in a ball on the floor, his head leaning against the pile of wood.

A few hours’ later police, their dogs and the EMT showed up on Lara’s front steps and rang the bell. She obliged them to have a look around. They searched the house, but found nothing. Lara stood in the open doorway and watched as the headed outside. As the officers walked out and heading towards the side of the house, the dogs began to bark loudly and pulled the officers towards the blood in the snow. The officers walked over to the blood trail land followed it to the shed.

Lara ran into the house and grabbed the blanket from the couch and put it over her shoulders, she slipped her bare feet into her boots by the door. Then followed them around to the back, where they all saw the trail of blood lead to the wood shed and the door stood slightly a jar. She felt an uncomfortable chill run through her body as the officers approached the door and opened it.

The look of surprise on everyone’s face shocked Lara, when she realized that they knew him and named him the son of the storeowner. It had been a long time since he had been in town. Word had it, that the store owner’s son was always getting into financial trouble due to gambling and drugs, but they had never suspected he would have robbed his own father for money.

The EMT walked over to him with their equipment and the stretcher. They checked his vitals and bandaged his shoulder, then took him out on the stretcher and into the ambulance. One of the officers jumped into the back of the ambulance with him, and it headed off down the hill into the night.

“My sincere apologies for the inconvenience, miss,” he said and walked to his car.

“I’m just glad you found him,” Lara responded.

As she stood in the doorway and watched them leave, she couldn’t help but wonder, the look on the store owner’s face when he found out it was his own son who he shot.

But she felt sorrier for the son, who was in her mind apparently too ashamed of himself to face his father like a man. She tried to imagine what the conversation between them was going to be like, but she couldn’t. So she walked back to the house and looked at the clock. Tired and drained, she ascended the stairs to her room and went to sleep.

more Sunday Scribblings here

Poetry Thursday ~ Sex

2006-07-20T21:06:00.000-04:00

This weeks topic brought me back to a point in my life that has always left me with a bit of regret. The one that you think you "let get away syndrome". This was a poem I found that I had written on the spur of the moment about the incident that happened between myself and my "Mr. Right".

Do you recall the first night
we went out and I lured you into a car,
across the border and through
the narrow streets of Maastricht.

In and out of smoky clubs
where I hesitantly stole
my first memorable kiss from you on
the dance floor between songs.

From there it turned into endless nights
and quiet moments of us lying next
to each other with candlelight
on a futon of my studio apartment,

music always blaring in the background
and waiting for the other person
to make the first move.

Then that moment came,
that final decision to make love
overcame us, and in the act,
my image of you was shattered.

I was taken by surprise
of the words that left my
mouth and crushed your ego.

It was beginning of our end, of
my foolishness, immaturity,
my expectations of you and
realizing I screwed up.

~ Lisa 1998

See more poems here

Sunday Scribblings - "With Baggage"

2006-07-16T21:17:00.001-04:00

This weeks topic is ironic and also scary for me because,I have been dealing with my husbands baggage (whom I am now separated from) for over the last three years of my life. Initially, I was unaware of just how much baggage he carried and how crazy the long term affects of it would play in my life.

I’m sure like most people you would question whether the signs were there before I said “I do”. And if I look back now I can see subtle signs indirectly. But nothing so big that you would think it could escalate.

Yes, he was a little insecure, and yes his relationship with his family wasn’t the best. But he treated me well, so I didn’t think much of it. We connected almost immediately because we were able to communicate with one another so well. We spent hours every single night on the phone talking from across the ocean. When time came for us to meet each other for the first time it wasn’t awkward at all, in fact it only solidified that we were great together. For the most part there were no real issues we came across and if we fought they were little squabbles that didn’t last very long.

But the moment everything change and things came out that would be horrific is when he moved to the U.S., for us to begin our life together as husband and wife. He started to change. When things did not go as he though they would in terms of finding a job, or life in general he became annoyed with many things. He would complain about how chaotic the United States were, he would become depressed and sleep, he began to isolate himself. So not even a year into our marriage we began therapy.

It was here he was initially diagnosed as being depressed and so he went on medications. But nothing changed. It was here I also learned about all of the family abuse and dysfunction he grew up in. How he being the middle child always got the short end of it and was labeled the “black sheep.

He had begun to become very agitated, stressed out, angry and I was at a point where I was lost and ready to walk because no matter what I attempted to do, I was the one that was being the scapegoat for his issues. Then one night, as we were watching Oprah, she had stars on talking about their bipolar disorders. It was the moment he turned to me and said “that’s how I feel,” that my jaw nearly hit the floor as I thought “what now.” The following day he spoke with his psychiatrist and they started treating him. It wasn’t much later than this that we found out his sister had been going to therapy for the last few years and was being treated as a bipolar.

This all went on for another year and escalated into him becoming completely unmanageable to live with. After our daughter was born a whole new set of issues were unfolded. His meds never really seemed to help. Then in November of 2005 he was in near fatal car accident and broke his femur bone. A few months later he had blood on his brain and had to have surgery to remove it. This all sent him over the edge and he seemed to deteriorate even more. He became the most bitter I ever saw him or any person for that matter.

I finally knew that I could not spend the rest of my life in such chaos, nor could I subject my daughter or her spirit to this illness. It was time to get out.

Since he moved out we have been able to maintain a good relationship. I think the separation is doing him good. He has recently had some neurological testing to see what further steps can be taken to help him regain his life again. So in the end he is working on his baggage. All of it will never go away for good, but maybe he will learn how to cope with it and move forward in his life. Though it will not be with me.

See more Sunday Scribblings here

Poetry Thursday~A Laughing Matter

2006-07-13T20:16:00.000-04:00

When I read this weeks prompt I immediatly though of my favorite childhood poems and books by Shel Silverstein. Somewhere in all the moves in my life I managed to loose or misplace most of them. When I was pregnant with my daughter I went out and bought Where the Sidewalk Ends becasue it had been my all time favorite and had the largest selections of poems that I loved the most. I used to read them to her when she was still in my womb.
Here are two short ones I always found funny.

Ridiculous Rose

Her mama said, "Don't eat with your fingers."
"OK." said Ridiculous Rose.
So she ate with her toes!

~Shel Silverstein

WARNING

Inside everybody's nose
There lives a sharp-toothed snail.
So if you stick your finger in,
He might bit off your nail.
Stick it farther up inside,
and he might bite your ring off.
Stick it all the way, and he
May bite the whole darn thing off.

~Shel Silverstein

More Poetry Thursday's here

Sunday Scribblings-On Monday-Hotels

2006-07-10T15:28:00.001-04:00

I have never really minded staying in a hotel. I have stayed in many types as well. I have traveled quite a bit in my life and I think I have been to every type of hotel possible (do motels and hostels count because I have stayed in them too). Some were nice, posh suites where you had the world at your fingertips; others were simple rooms with nothing but beds, a bathroom and sometimes not even a TV. There were the ones that were so not what I had expected when I booked the room, that I thought, I would sooner suffer losing one night’s sleep than taking a chance on what I would endure thorough the night. But this latest road trip from Atlanta to New York was a hotel experience I will always remember because it became a “hotel family affair”.

My mom, dad, daughter and I shacked up at the Fairfield end in Flushing, Queens with my cousin’s who also live in Atlanta. My younger cousin Mel (for short) brought along her boyfriend, and my other cousin from Arkansas came with his girlfriend, son and somewhat stepdaughter.

The first night my cousin’s arrived at the hotel they had ordered in a bunch of pizzas and unintentionally created a little pizza party in the breakfast/hangout room of the hotel. When we walked in from having dinner in the city, everyone was sitting around watching the plasma TV on the wall and talking turn’s checking their emails or surfing the web on the hotel computer. Any other people who came within a foot of this area seemed to think we were having some significant event going on and avoided the room all together. We had officially taken over.

Then there was the night us “younger folk” went out on the town and showed up at the hotel at 2:30 in the morning. Some of us more drunk than others, but we still we managed to make our way back to our rooms (on the same floor) without disturbing the peace of the other hotel guests. Most of the loud laughing and obnoxious behavior took part in the hotel lobby entrance and in the elevator.

Every morning even though none of us ever woke up at the same time we would run into one another eating breakfast or slamming down huge amounts of coffee to start the day. Especially, those of us that had spent the night before drinking just a little too much.

Oh and the scene of my cousin B. who we deemed the General trying to round up the troops in the hotel lobby at a specific time, so that we could have a convoy of cars heading into the city as to save anyone from getting lost on the freeways. But it never failed that we were separated at least on one of the attempts.

It was a great time and a great idea for us all to stay at the same hotel. We as a family bonded in ways we had not before, we had the chance to catch up on each others lives, because even those of us who live near each other still don’t get to spend that much quality time together.

Besides, when my family gets together it is always a blast!

Hello Again!

2006-07-06T15:18:00.001-04:00

It's been forever and a day since I have posted because I took a little road trip with my parents and daughter to New York! We drove from Atlanta, stayed over in Roanoke one night and arrived in New York the following day. There was plenty of time to read in the car and my daughter spent endless amounts of time watching Barney, on a newly purchased portable DVD player specifically for the trip. God bless Barney! Unfortunately, the reason we went was not a pleasant one; a memorial service for a relative. Cousins of mine, whom I have not seen in ages came from California, Arkansas and Washington.

Though it was for the memorial service that we took the trip, we still did manage to have time to do fun things too. I went to the Met and saw the special exhibit Hatshepsut: From Queen to Pharaoh. We also were able to see the famous Tuscan vase that the Met will be returning to Italy. We made it to Soho and china town and did a bit of shopping. There was also the opportunity to walk through central park. It did rain a significant amount when we were there but it was still a great time had by all.

On the return trip we had planned to spend a day in Washington, D.C. my old hometown but were only ale to spend the night and move on because parts of the city were flooded and the Smithsonian and museums were shut down. It was great being back and to see all the changes to the neighborhood where I grew up and to see other parts of the city where I had spent time romping around. What a great cultural oasis. I had a hard time leaving, but it made me think that in a couple of years I will head back up North permanently. I think I would love for my daughter to have the experience growing up there as compared to the South. At the moment though it is good to be home and not living out of a suitcase. I will spend the next few days getting readjusted and will start in on blogging again this upcoming Sunday for Sunday Scribblings . Meanwhile, I have a lot of catching up to do on blog reading, tending to my house and catching up on book/magazine reading too.

Sunday Scribblings ~ BED

2006-06-18T21:46:00.001-04:00

Now whenever I hear the word bed it has taken on a totally new meaning for me. In January of this year “BED (Beverage. Entertainment. Dining)”, a concept chain of restaurants opened here in Atlanta where people actually have the choice to eat breakfast, lunch, dinner, brunch and cocktails in bed. In fact they are no ordinary beds, these are plush inviting beds that are suppose to make ones dining experience slightly more enjoyable. When you arrive you are even given special slippers to dine in. The one that opened here in Atlanta is the third in the country. The other two are located in Miami and New York.

It is set up in a very trendy posh hotel here in downtown Atlanta. The cuisine represents French American contemporary cooking with a touch of added southern style.
The whole concept threw me when I first heard of it because I personally have never been one who could eat in bed. Yes, even with those little trays that sit across your lap, I have found eating in bed to be most uncomfortable.

But hey, maybe trying it out in a setting such as the one I heard about here, will change my mind. The restaurant is supposed to be all the rave. Who knows maybe I will run into a few famous stars, that alone should make the experience fun.

When I scrounge up the funds and have a bit of free time on my hands from all my other duties I will give it a chance. Until then I will keep the crumbs out of my own bed. http://atl.bedrestaurants.com/home.php

more Sunday Scribblings

Poetry Thursday

2006-06-15T08:36:00.001-04:00

This week I have two poems for poetry thursday. One is an attempt at a Fibs style of poetry. I discovered this genre of poerty through tiny article in Skirt Magazine. Which by the way the talented media artist and blogger Misty Mawn's artwork is on the cover for this issue. Fibs poetry is a mathematical way of creating a poem, where the sum of the syllables in each line must equal the sum of the syllables in the two previous lines. The challenge was pretty intense for me. I had a hard time being creative in the mist of trying to make sure I was mathmatically in the boundries of syallables. It became very apparent why I have always hated math. Maybe I will try again someday, but for now I will stick to other forms of poetry writing that fuel my creativity.

Fibs poem:

quiet
silence
eludes me
chaos surrounds me
and I cannot hear myself think

~Lisa 2006

The second poem I wrote was from a prompt that I found through le vie en rose... a sweet life at the end of her post for SPC . "In the wonderful book Poemcrazy Wooldridge suggests you write your own name poem using the following prompt":

My real name is
yesterday my name was
tomorrow my name will be
in my dream my name was

This is what I came up with.

My real name is
passion
for life,
languages,
and
experiencing whatever
excites and
ignites my mind.

Yesterday,
my name was stagnate
and stuck
in my vision of
what I knew to
be the difference between
right and wrong.

Tomorrow,
my name will be strength,
solidly standing
on both feet
fit, empowered and
making choices
that suit me.

In my dream my name
was power
in the knowledge of obtaining
balance, success and growth
to become a self assured,
able bodied woman
recaptured.

~Lisa 2006

more poems here

Wiped and ready to re-coop!

2006-06-14T20:50:00.001-04:00

downloaded from getty images

Seeing this image made me want to pack up and go to a spa in Arizona or New Mexico to escape the hectic life and endless running around I have had to endure these past few days. Breathe, slowly, another deep breath. I feel like I could just fall asleep right now and sleep for days. So that is almost what I plan to do. I plan to hit the bed early, after I finish writing for my Poetry Thursday entry tomorrow. I have one attempt at Fibs style ready to go. Which I will go into more detail about in tomorrow's post and I am going to attempt another based on la vie en rose' s prompt on her post for 06/13/04. So until tomorrow.

SPC ~ Pop Art #2

2006-06-13T19:52:00.000-04:00

It's very simple. My "Prince Charming" turned out not to be so charming.

More pop SPC's here

Sunday Scribblings-On Monday-Mystery

2006-06-12T13:50:00.001-04:00

A mystery I would love to have unveiled to me, is where in the world all the socks go that get lost in the washing/drying process.

When you pull the laundry out of the drier, begin to sort and fold it and there is only one sock of the pair you put in the wash to begin with, it becomes semi crazy to search for the lost one in sheets, t-shirts, etc. Yes some do cling, but most simply vanish.

I used to open the drier a few times in hopes that my eyes were playing tricks on me and I was just missing it somehow. I would check around the washer and drier on the floor, again in the washer in case it never made it to the drier in the first place. But to this day, I have never had one lost sock resurface.

I would actually put the odd sock out, with the other odd ones in a drawer, in hopes that I will be able to match it again when the other on turned up. But I ended up with a drawer full of odd socks and decided that it was even crazier to hold on to them “in hopes”. So now if I do not find the other sock when the laundry is complete, I just toss the odd one directly into the trash.

I’ve heard many theories about what can happen to them. But the best I’ve heard is that they just take off when we aren’t looking to go live lives with other socks in new places, enjoying themselves in their sock worlds and communities.

TGIF

2006-06-09T21:32:00.001-04:00

One of my favorite catalogs arrived today. I love this cover. All the beautiful colors of threads, sizes and color's of the spools as well as the different textures. It's superb. It made me want to run out to JoAnn's and buy some.

Other things that came in the mail today as well were loads of magazines I subscribe too. Thimble's June button of the month club buttons and Angry Chicken's mail order #3. I can't wait to glace through the mail order uninterrupted tonight after my daughter goes to bed.

This is a full weekend. Tomorrow we are having my daughter's 2nd belated birthday party at a inflatable slide place called Jump Zone. Out of all the other parties we went to from her classmates I like this the best. Besides I pondered the idea of being the "only parent" to have it at her house but realized after head count of who was willing to come, that I would have fifteen two year olds to keep occupied. At least now I don't have to set up or clean up. I will be doing enough clean up of my own messes this weekend without having to add to it.

I am going to make an attempt at writing a Fibs poem this weekend as well. "A Fibs poem for those who have never heard of them are poems that use mathematical progression known as Fibonacci sequence to dictate the nuber of syllables in a line. The number of syllables in each line must equal the sum of the syllables in the the two previous lines. So start with O and 1, add them togehter to get your next number, which is also 1, 2 comes next, then add 2 to 1 to get 3 and so on." For a person such as myself who is not really or never really been into math this will be a challenge, but one no the less I am looking forward too. I will post results.
I will be around this weekend, though I do not know if I will post until Sunday for Sunday Scribblings. This weeks theme is mystery.

So have a great weekend!

Poetry Thursday

2006-06-08T09:49:00.001-04:00

This poem was inspired by listening to other women on a daily basis talk about other women's weight.

Untitled

Did you see what she was wearing?
How could she?
She’s fat.
Doesn’t she know that her
cellulite ripples are showing
through her pants?

It’s gross
Who does she think she is.
A beauty queen?
Is she insane?
She’s fat.

No one wants to
look at her in skin tight pants.
Doesn’t she care
that she’s fat?

Crying she listens
from the other side
of the bathroom stall

waiting,
hoping
these women who
are strangers
can’t hear her misery
and frustration

at the fact that she
has no self esteem,
no self love
and cannot afford to
buy a decent pair
of pants.

~ Lisa 2006

more poems for Poetry Thursday

YOU CAN DO IT!

2006-06-07T21:22:00.001-04:00

I know I am probably VERY late in discovering this great book. But I am glad I finally did. I would see it often in my trips browsing through B&N, but for some reason I never did stopped to actually pick it up, glance at the pages and really see what it was all about. Perhaps it is because the title and image on the cover eludes to the Girl Scouts. Not that I have anything against Girl Scouts, it's just that I had a complete aversion to being one myself when I was younger. I think the whole concept of merit badges was kind of a turn off for me too.

Well today while waiting at the doctor's office with my daughter, I picked up an issue of Experience Life magazine and there it was, a picture of the book and all necessary information to locate it nestled at the end of an article I was reading. I took this as a sign that maybe it was time I gave it a chance. So on the way home I checked it out from the library. What a pleasant surprise. I am looking forward to taking the challenge to complete the merit badges in this book no matter how long it takes.

I've come to the realization that the merit badge can really be a sign of success and accomplishment. Maybe my aversion to being a Girl Scout when I was younger was a missed opportunity to challenge myself earlier in ways I am only learning about now.

SPC ~ Pop Art #1

2006-06-06T20:33:00.000-04:00

Namaste

more SPC's

On a Tuesday ~ Sunday Scribblings #10 : Earliest Memory

2006-06-06T14:52:00.001-04:00

Was suppose to post on Sunday night...time always seems to allude me.

Earliest Memory – The most memorable

I was eight years old and was visiting my dad’s best friend’s family just outside Portland, Oregon. It was one of the first trips I had taken alone on a plane across country from Washington D.C. Mr. I owned a nursery and lived on the property as well with his wife and two daughters, N and Y.

The morning I arrived, I remember it being a very grey day outside. There were very scattered clouds and a misty rain. We loaded up in the backseat of the pickup truck at the airport and headed to their house. N, Y and I spent the entire ride tickling each other. So much so, we tortured each other to the point where we had to pee badly.

We stopped on the way by a drive though milk store; what a new experience for me coming from a city. It was a little brown wooden building that had a single window. A wooden awning came out and a wooden pole hung down the center. I slightly remember a yellow sign hanging above the window with the name of the milk store. The girl’s dad ordered the milk and it was handed to him in old fashioned milk bottles, with a metal carrier. On each side there were three bottles. Three filled with chocolate milk and three with white milk. Though I wasn’t one for anything but chocolate milk in those days, I still remember tasting the white milk and thinking it was the creamiest, best tasting milk I had ever had.

The week or two I was there, I honestly can’t remember how long I stayed, was filled with helping out in the nursery, playing games or in the yard, eating great meals together and watching cartoons in the mornings.

From their large picture windows on the rear side of the house you could see Mt. Hood. I remember the days when it was dreary and foggy and you could see the fog hovering over the volcano’s grand opening. Who would have known at that moment that three years later she would erupt? Imagine how excited I was when we received a package from them with the ash in little vials. Holding that vial in my hand and showing it to all my friends back in D.C., not was I only sharing history with them, but there was a connection for me since I had actually seen the volcano myself.

But the most memorable day of this trip was the morning of August 16, 1977. N, Y and I were sitting on the floor of the living room as we had each and every morning watching either Underdog or Roadrunner when programming was interrupted for a special broadcast. I remember seeing a house, with a bunch of young girls and women outside crying and the announcer saying “with deep regrets” that Elvis was dead.

more Scribblings here

Back With Goodies and Such

2006-06-04T07:17:00.001-04:00

Happy June everyone! This is my birth month. It is also the month that some of us honor our fathers or husband's. This is the month of the Summer Solstice for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere (the longest daylight period and shortest night). This is the month that the Summer Reading Challenge begins. I have committed myself to reading at least one book a week between June 1st and August 31st but I want to try for two. This is the month that re-runs are really in full swing and I start watching more movies. I saw an absolutely fabulous movie yesterday: My Life Without Me. I highly recommend this film. Warning! The theme of this film deals with death but I found it to be in a very beautiful way.

Goodies I got in the mail at the end of May:

The "Spring Fever" theme installment from the candy swap I participate in came last week. This package came from Lisa in Texas. Giant Jelly Beans, which I love, a wonderful dark chocolate candy bar with pink peppercorns. It tastes amazing with a sweet, spicy, citrus, berry flavor. I will definitely be searching the net for more of these chocolate and other types by this specific manufacturer. And the part the really resonated the "Spring Fever" theme were the lollipop's with real bugs. Yep, real bugs. One is blueberry flavored with a scorpion in it and the other is a tequila flavored with a worm. I myself do not have the guts to try it but they make for a great souvenir and conversation item. They are made by a company called HOTLIX who have many more varieties of insect candies and snacks. They do have non-insect products as well.

This beautiful tote bag that I ordered from Thimble is amazing. She does amazing work. I am a beginner sewer with hopes of obtaining skills such as these some day. I love this bag. She sent a cute little thank you card with one of her button's attached (not pictured because my daughter grabbed it and well, I am still trying to find where she hid it). I must also mention that I belong to her button of the month club, but never got around to posting the first set of buttons I received. She also makes great jewelry and accessories so check out her shop.

Well, the day is starting to get behind me and I have so much to do. Today will be double post day. Tonight I will post my Sunday Scribblings. I've been so swamped with everything I've missed the last few.

SPC-Introduction #4

2006-05-23T22:19:00.000-04:00

I need consistency and discipline. I have never been structured or a planner. I am spontaneous to the core. I plan mostly when I am moving into the next realm of my existence. I am finding my way to a new more "true'" to myself "me".

more SPC's here

Happy Birthday!

2006-05-22T20:14:00.001-04:00

Happy birthday my little Gemini! I can’t believe it! How it only seems like yesterday that I was at the hospital waiting on your arrival. I am so overjoyed that you are a part of my life. I love every second of watching you change and grow. It is something extraordinary as the days pass and you come to me with new words or phrases that you were not even saying an hour before. I notice how careful I must be now with what I say, for fear you will repeat it in a context that might be inappropriate. Though somehow I think in the end it would only come across as humorous. You are discovering so many new things, attempting so many new tasks and working so hard to become your individual little self. That’s why I love the "terrible-two's" stage, because it allows me to see you assert your own sense of independence. And not to worry, you can push your limits as far as you would like to try and I will make it my mission to give you the freedom and balance you need to grow and claim yourself. But I will also be there to guide you and make sure that you are safe.

How I love to watch you do your three favorite things; dancing, coloring and singing songs. I cherish the moments you take me by the hand to join in the activities you pursue. I also love to snuggle up with you to read you a book when ever you ask, but especially each night before I tuck you in. Or hang outside on a sunny afternoon and play in the dirt.

Please know that you are so important to me and that you have such a special place in my heart. I look forward to many more years ahead with all its challenges, tears, laughter and fun.

Again, Happy Birthday My Dear Caitlin, I love you so much.

Sunday Scribblings #8 - Three Wishes

2006-05-20T20:52:00.000-04:00

Wow! At first I though this would be a breeze for me.
I'm a dreamer who wishes all the time.
I know, I will put all my wishes in a large black magician's hat and pick them out randomly.

Wish One: My most important wish would be that my daughter grows up to be a happy, complete, and self assured woman who is living her life's dreams and desires to their fullest; in a world that she can feel safe in.

Wish Two: Would have to be that I could resume my travels of the world to learn new things, experience new cultures, languages, eat wonderful foods, drink wine, and make new friends. It has been so many years since I have travelled I feel as if I am stuck in a time warp.

Wish Three: I would love to continue to rediscover new sides of myself with each passing day and grow from each new discovery. These past three years of my life and the things I have had to endure have taught me that we can always learn more about who we are. That there is never a reason to stop growing, changing, or become a stronger, more loving and compassionate indivdual towards ourselves and others.

(A post for Sunday Scribblings #8)

SPC- Introducing Me

2006-05-09T22:07:00.000-04:00

I always find talking about myself difficult.
I am recently seperated single mom to a daughter who will be 2 on the 22nd of this month.
I love to read anything and everything I can get my hands on.
I am very laid back
I love to listen to music 24/7
I am combination introvert/extrovert (depends entirely who I am with)
I am originally from Washington, D.C. , I lived overseas in Germany for a large part of my life, then I became a transplant in Atlanta, GA
I write short stories and fiction. Would love to be stronger in writing non-fiction, so I am working towards that now.
I am obsessed with the Internet. And now reading blogs. I need to update my own blog more often
I love to laugh
I can cook some really outstanding dishes and love to experiment in the kitchen with various cusines.
I can be really lazy at times
I have a new found passion for gardening
I have a dog that is mixed with part basset hound and part jack russell.
I am a wanna-be artist.
I am trying to teach myself how to sew, knit and crochet. Not sure if I'm cut out for it, but I'll figure it out somehow.
I am a Gemini
I am not photogenic and tend to shy away from the camera
I don't like people who are not open-minded or who are fake
One day I hope to move out west.

More Self Portrait Challenges here.

Sunday Scribblings - My Shoes #6

2006-05-07T11:14:00.000-04:00

I was cleaning out the garage and I came across my navy blue and orange colored Puma’s. These were the only shoes I could wear when I was pregnant and they were so comfortable I was almost willing to sleep in them. They have been stored in the garage for almost the last two years. They are spotted in paint from the painting of the house when we first moved in. The mud from working in the yard is also still stuck on them. They were covered in dust and cobwebs. I vaguely remember the day I took them off by the back door leading to the kitchen and never looked back. Part of me wishes that after each event I had taken the time to stick them in the washer to make them like new again. But then they wouldn't carry the memories or character that they have.
So, I think I will let them just go to sneaker heaven the way they are.

I’ve been eyeing a pair of pink and green Puma's I really want. So I will buy them and start a new shoe adventure.

See more Sunday Scribbling's here.

Poetry Thursday

2006-05-04T22:39:00.000-04:00

I am a huge Charles Bukowski fan.
He was known as not being very nice (which he often said about himself) and brutally honest.
I like him because he was OUT LOUD and REAL in his writings.
I was introduced to him by my best friend and artist Alisoun when we were in middle school.
I know we were a we bit young to be reading a vulgar drunk but there was something about his ability to speak the raw truth in his writings that I connected to at the time. I had a profound interest in poetry after that and I could not get enough. My connection to poetry and writing in general began when I was young and I spent endless minutes writing stories. I continued that path by pursuing and obtaining a B.A. in English with a concentration in Creative Writing. Unfortunately, I stopped writing at some point for some reason I am still trying to justify, though I know there is no real excuse for giving up your dreams.
I found this poem hidden amongst stacks of poetry and writings I had saved since college. We were given an assignment to bring to class a poem that would motivate us to want to write. Half the class walked in with this poem. As it was read by one of the people I the class I wondered to myself how many had picked it because of its title or because they had actually read it and were inspired by it. As the last word was read everyone looked around the room as if to see who “felt it”. Well, I “felt it”. I “felt it” because it had always been one of my favorites by Charles and I use to keep it taped inside every composition notebook I ever wrote in to remind me of the love I had for writing. So, I share with you a poem that you can reflect on, be inspired by, or simple find your truth when it comes to your true passion for the written word.

so you want to be a writer

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if your doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
If your trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.

if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
your not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen, it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

~Charles Bukowski

May is approaching

2006-04-27T14:09:00.000-04:00

April has so far been extremely hectic and I have had little time to post anything. I just received this in the mail for the April Book Swap from Connie . I love it and yes it will inspire me to craft.

Spring is here and I have been trying to "spring clean" my life. These last few weeks have been a real reflection for me of where I am, where I want to be, and what I need to do to get there.

I will be 37 in June (that's not a bad thing) . I am curently a single mom (seperated) and I have just come to the realization that I haven't been true to myself in how I have been living my life. Unfortuantely, I have lived it to other's expections of me or a need to please others. I have taken paths in my life where I have compromised my happiness or what I deem as an ideal life for myself. I am choosing now take a hard look at myself, to focus on the areas of my life that need changing, change them and find myself again. I want to be a good example for my daughter. I want her to have all the self confidence of the world (what I seemed to have lost). I want her to follow her dreams and succeed. I want her to see me as a strong woman so she too can become a strong one herself. I have adopted the follow quote as a daily affirmation:

"To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to
mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly". -Henri Bergson

I will use it tirelessly in order to pull myself out of this hole, live my life and follow my dreams.

Happy!

2006-03-24T09:43:00.000-05:00

Today I woke up happy! Extremely happy in fact. Absurdly giddy for so many reasons.

The first : It was the first time in about two weeks that my daughter spent the entire night sleeping in her room and her bed, which means mama had some sleep too. Yippie!
She seems to be going through a stage where she wakes up between 1:00 and 3:00 am and shows up next to my bed, her thumb in her mouth and her security sack(what she used to sleep in as a baby) in the other hand. With sleepy eyes and a wet thumb she points to the bed and motions for me to lift her up. At first, I was shuffling her back to her room and eventually passing out on the tiny carpet in her room, waiting for her to fall asleep again. But that became old very quickly and I finally gave in and let her sleep with me. Seriously, who wants to wake up every morning feeling like you just slept on the floor of a cold, small, dark cave.

The Second: I received my yummy candy swap package from Philly, PA in the mail this week. Lot's of goodies as you can see from the picture. Chocolate covered pretzels, a box with assorted chocolates (unfortunately you can't see the top but there are Green Shamrock stickers attached, and an assortment of little chocolate egg shaped bars which I haven't tried yet but my daughter did. The cute green colored ceramic glazed stars are a little extra gift that was added and I absolutely love them.

Third: Thanks to M for leaving me a very nice comment and well wishes on my blogging experience.

Fourth: It's Friday and the weekend is here. Can't wait to enjoy it.

Have a good weekend all!

2006-03-23T10:56:00.000-05:00

Hello! I am about to take baby steps into the blogging world. It is something I have wanted to try but never really knew where to start.
My first introduction to blog reading was Pen on Fire. I stumbled onto it from the book's website. From there I began searching out blogs on writing, actual writer's blogs and literary blogs when I came across Felicia C. Sullivan's blog. It was then that I realized I was beginning to go blog crazy! I would link from blog to blog on other people's blogs. Wish Jar Journal, one of my favorites introduced me to blogs of great illustrator's, crafters, designers and muscians. I am currently part of the Angry Chicken's mail-order club and just received my first Candy Swap "goodies" in the mail.

So welcome to all who come along for the ride.