Thursday, July 03, 2008

More things to add to the 100...

What it would take to build a printer for the images in my head.
If it is truly gone this time, or if the worry will return.
How the future looks.
When the answer comes.
Why Justin Timberlake thinks he's the only one bringing sexy back (yeah).
How many turning points are left.
When I'll get to Germany, NC, and Arizona to meet all the new little stars who have been born to my friends.
How never to have blisters again (aka, "Why high heels are so popular")
Where my favorite pajama pants ended up.
If those little things are really big things.
What the Meerkats are up to right now.
How to get rid of the memories of that damn book that plagues my soul.
If you are still here with me.
If I'll even know when you're gone.
My direction.
If there is ever going to be something new under the sun, or if we've already invented it all.
The true effect of all those germ killing soaps, sprays, and wipes.
Self appreciation.
If I'll ever get pregnant.
How to celebrate more, and worry less.
If you were banging your head against the seat because of me, or because of you.
When you'll see that the drugs don't work.
How fast I could be at the beach if I left right now.
If Pat O'Brien will ever go back into Rehab.
Why it isn't easy to give up those material things.
If Elvis needs a friend.
How to feel satisfied, but not complacent.
What Harry Potter and Tony Soprano are doing.
If there comes a time in life when things just don't seem like a big deal anymore.
What sunset looks like in the Maldives in person.
How to work my camera.
When we'll laugh together again.
If it will make a damn bit of difference if I throw out every last piece of paper in my office without looking at it.
The way to motivate myself to get up in time for that middle of the night meteor shower.
How to cultivate a cohesive style.
If I'll ever have willpower.
Why you even emailed me.
Where the rewind button is.
If it was hard for you to become that cold and detached.
How to be a better manager - of people, of myself.
The way to cultivate a quiet mind.
How the Akumal turtles are faring.
Si voy a tener la convicción suficiente para dominar español.
What's out there.
How to celebrate me.
Why the phone didn't ring.
If I should stay or if I should go.
What my dog is trying to say.
In that time, when the bomb drops, if I'll walk toward the explosion like I planned or away from it.
When I got so serious.
How to compost.
Convincing German.
How Mamma and Gram enjoyed Rob's wedding.
When my brother and sister in law will spawn a niece or nephew for me to adore.
Who let the dogs out.
If I'll cave to pressure for plastic surgery when I'm older.
How the patterns are woven into sea coral.
What the psychic will say.
When I'll make the time.
If I should redecorate in a goth theme. (not)
Simple beauty.
If I can make it for 3 days like Remi is doing.
If my neighbors can see me when I'm dancing around my house.
Why the hell you just stopped talking to me.
How many Mardi Gras beads I have in my bag.
The Northern Lights - and if they'll wave to me when I visit.
Why we can't figure out universal healthcare.
If I should patent bubble wrap as a therapeutic technique.
How to throw pottery.
If I'll ever get pictures from my wedding printed.
Who will wise up and stop killing the desert?
If we'll wise up and stop polluting our world.
What a balanced budget (my own) feels like.
Why winter feels so long, and summer so short.
How to pick the perfect cantaloupe.
Why time marches on.
Where my sense of adventure ventured to.
A brand new song.

Sunday, April 20, 2008


It was gorgeous there.

I thought I would be knee deep in crystalline waters, but didn't realize how much it would feel like home.

That forever sky - azure, for sure - can't remember the last time I saw so much horizon.

Virginia is beautiful. Trees and hues of greens from olive to near sunlight. But those trees and the thick overgrowth of spring block the view of the long thin line of the horizon.

On the beaches of Akumal, we watched the sea turtles as they came in to make the next generation. The clouds moved rapidly across the ocean, forming and disappearing within minutes. I brought books, magazines, journals, but spent most of the time just staring. The intricate moves of waves, swirling water, jumbled coral nesting in the sand, the backs of fishing boats.

I swear the horizon was silver - then blue - then gold...

I just needed to see past myself again to realize that I am not the big picture.

Friday, February 29, 2008

Chain of Love

I am obsessive.

This is something I have always known about myself but probably wouldn't change even if I could.

Right now, I am totally obsessing and head over heels for - horror of horrors - a chain restaurant.


I frequent mom-and-pops and local joints all the time and can't stand "THE MAN" and the culture of suburban hell with a Best Buy-Olive Garden-Wal-Mart-McDonald's-Home Depot-Chili's-Kohl's-Applebee's-Lowe's-Costco-Starbucks-Border's-Mega Mall on every single crowded corner.

But there is an exception to my rule right now (aside from Target - I just can't help myself, I will always write love letters with hearts and stars and offers of my body to the Tar-jay).

My new obsession? Noodles & Company.

Maybe it's because I'm doing Weight Watchers and most of the N&C menu is WW friendly.

Maybe it's their cute website filled with broccoli trees in Penne Park .

Maybe I just heart the fact that today I had a tomato that was actually red, tender, juicy and didn't taste like pesticide on my crisp cucumber and romaine salad as part of my Bangkok Curry Trio. My lunch - for less than $8- was fantastic and made me moan in my seat with the way that the cool coconut flavor lightly accented the flash-seared crisp carrots and garlicky chicken. All for less calories and fat than a small box of beak nuggets and a coke from the hellish McGross.

Whatever it is that is so enchanting about Noodles, I may never know.

But I do know, Noodles & Company, that I am completely smitten with you and don't want to hide my affections any longer.

And the only chain I think of when I think of you is the invisible chain that you have firmly clasped around my heart.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Assistance, please?

I need an assistant.

There are way too many things going on right now and I think that the only way to help myself is to get an assistant to organize everything.

I'm going to start by giving two of my students some things to do to help me out.

Perhaps by the end of the week, I'll have minions.

Friday, February 08, 2008

Stumble you might fall

I hung up on myself.

Really, that is what it boils down to.

I stopped listening - slammed down the phone. And when I tried to dial back in, there wasn't a dial tone.

I just didn't want to hear the things that needed to be heard. I've been disconnected - out of my own loop of who I really think I am and who I want to be. So I gave up.

And I didn't think that was right for being in my 30's. Because you know, when you're 32 you should have every single thing figured out and know how to deal.

So I talked to Jodisattva. And she's been feeling the same way.

And I don't want to speak for her, but I feel a little more connected now that I know I'm not the only one out here on the other end of the telephone line. In fact, I'm willing to wager that there's a group of us standing in the middle of a forest on an alternate plane and we're all gripping the black handset of an old-style telephone, staring at a snaking cable that's sheared off not 5 feet from us. We're all yelling about not being tied to something. And in that space of panic, we're not willing to look around and realize that there are others stranded with us. That maybe we should shut up and collectively think about why we're in this space - and explore a little.

That being said, I'm ready to look around. Maybe take a little hike with my friend Jodisattva and figure out what this terrain is - and what we are going to do while we're here. Disconnected from where we think we should be. Unplugged from who we know we are.

Thursday, January 31, 2008


I had insatiable passion.

I was writer, dancer, creator, singer, performer - a drama maker - the spotlight queen! That was me.

For some time now, I've felt dead. Just detached and sad and depressed. I don't keep in touch with friends - I've let things fall behind. I've fallen.

And I haven't cared at all.

Lately though, I've felt a spark.

At times it scares the crap out of me because I'm not sure what to do with it. I don't even feel like I'm good enough to have it, but it is hot and fast and moves from the recesses of my brain into my gut. Trying to supress it makes me want to vomit. I don't sleep, my mind is going going going turning like a turbine ready to spark some fantastic machine that will launch me to something great and fulfilling and worth my time. And I know if I let this spark flicker too long without lighting something bigger than me it will fade and sputter out.

I remember this feeling. Like I'm going to explode, like I'm running so fast my heart breaks through my skin, like someone turned on the light and illuminated every mystery of the world. I used to have it all the time. Back then I couldn't control it - and didn't want to. I didn't know how to harness my power and self-destructed over and over again. And loved and loathed every single minute of it.

At some point - and I can pinpoint the time nearly to the second but am not going to tell you - I guess I just succumbed to the "supposed to" world. And the second I did I lost everything that was magical and wonderful about me.

There was a time that I was a firework - sparkly, bright and inspiring. Nothing and everything mattered at the same time. I was fiercely fantastic and dangerously loyal and just so into living life instead of being complacent and settled.

God I hope I'm here again. I want to be that me again.

About Me

Stupidly self-centered for over 3 decades!