Everywhere

My life at the moment.

Anywhere Is - Enya

I walk the maze of moments
but everywhere I turn to
begins a new beginning
but never finds a finish
I walk to the horizon
and there I find another
it all seems so surprising
and then I find that I know

Chorus:
You go there you're gone forever
I go there I'll lose my way
if we stay here we're not together
Anywhere is

The moon upon the ocean
is swept around in motion
but without ever knowing
the reason for its flowing
in motion on the ocean
the moon still keeps on moving
the waves still keep on waving
and I still keep on going

Chorus

I wonder if the stars sign
the life that is to be mine
and would they let their light shine
enough for me to follow
I look up to the heavens
but night has clouded over
no spark of constellation
no Vela no Orion

The shells upon the warm sands
have taken from their own lands
the echo of their story
but all I hear are low sounds
as pillow words are weaving
and willow waves are leaving
but should I be believing
Then I am only dreaming

Chorus

To leave the thread of all time
and let it make a dark line
in hopes that I can still find
the way back to the moment
I took the turn and turned to
begin a new beginning
still looking for the answer
I cannot find the finish
It's either this or that way
it's one way or the other
it should be one direction
it could be on reflection
the turn I have just taken
the turn that I was making
I might be just beginning
I might be near the end.

The official music video. Apparently a little out of lip sync.

A Moment So Close

Sometimes my entries will just be a song. How I'm feeling in the moment. I know this doesn't really tell it as there will be many different interpretations as to what the song might mean in relation to how I'm feeling.

Bela Fleck & The Flecktones, another band in my top five. They don't usually have lyrics being a banjo/jazz sort of infusion.

A Moment So Close - Bela Fleck & The Flecktones

funny how it goes with the moment so near
in a little while you can almost feel your fear
even before a time and a moment so close
find another way to open up your heart to me

every now and then there's a moment so close
I can see the future telescope in front of me
isn't it the way for a moment so near
to be further from the past than I would want to be

way up high, the little folks zoomin' by,
ask them why, or if they know the way we'll go?

underneath the skin in a moment so close
little particles a'runnin 'round inside of me
smaller that you go is a moment so near
more than I am comprehending is a part of me

thought it was the light shinin' down from the sun
in a moment it would travel 'cross the universe
couldn't you believe in a moment so real
more than words could say it more than eyes could see you there

the ancients will return
descending from the sky
the atoms will explode
too late to wonder why

way up high
we're lookin' for the northern light
open up the evening star
to point the way to where we'll go

so close
so near
release
your fear

a moment close at hand
will split to shake the ground
the answer's on the earth
no questions to be found

way up high
the little fellas zoomin' by
don't ask why
ask if they know they way we'll go

the time
to find
today
the sky
too clear
so high
too late
to try
so close
so near
release
your fear

funny how it goes with the moment so near
in a little while you can almost feel your fear
even before a time and a moment so close
find another way to open up your heart to me

Also, since I'm not willing to sit and listen to the song over and over to write out the lyrics, I'm pulling the lyrics for all the songs I use in my blog off the internet. While I imagine they're mostly correct, I'm guessing there might be some inconsistencies. "Watch out while I kiss this guy." You get my drift.

Unfortunately the live video that I found is a bit different from the song I have but close enough for government work.

Home

Where is home?

Some say home is where the heart is.

And where is the heart but so many places at once.

Golden Slumbers - The Beatles

Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby

Golden slumbers fill your eyes
Smiles awake you when you rise
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby

Once there was a way to get back homeward
Once there was a way to get back home
Sleep pretty darling do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby

A video of images, not official. Listen!

Moving

I used to LOVE moving. As in my body.

Dancing, martial arts, fencing, kendo, taiko, and long ago, swimming and soccer.

These days, I hate moving.

And my body has reflected that. I'm 5 feet 9 inches tall (175 cm) and at one point I weighed 135 pounds (about 61 kilograms). Then I joined the military and my weight skyrocketed to 165 and no, it wasn't muscle. Something about the food and how we had to eat it in boot camp I think. Then I moved to San Francisco and went to 180. Eeesh. Fluctuating up and down. But 180 is where I'm at now.

Food and a sedentary life style. Blah. I had dropped to 160 not eating wheat/gluten and sugar but then fell off the wagon, so to speak and went right back up. I think I said I wanted to lose inches on my body while gaining inches on my head at the beginning of the year but instead I just gained pounds.

And of course, when you're out of shape, it's even harder to get into shape. Vicious, no?

I feel fat and ugly all the time. I know it's buying into the stupid body image crap that this country, this whole damn world, carries (but very much so in America and I am a product of this learning), but I just can't seem to help it. Sometimes I'm able to find some peace around it but it's very hard. It's ingrained hardcore .

But I recently hit the point of "I'm sick of this." And I am. I want to be otter-like again! (My phrase for being svelte, sleek and sexy feminine, otters representing femininity in the Native American Animal Medicine Cards). So I decided on my birthday, I'd start doing something about it. Normally, as I've said, I'm all into the "firsts" of things. The first of the year, the month, the week. And April 19th, falling on a Thursday, was not the first of anything but I basically said fuck it. So I went back on my no wheat/gluten and sugar thing. I've let a little get through, flour tortilla, coconut popsicles, but for about four days, I've been pretty good. That got me 20 pounds over about three or four months last time. This time, I'm adding in exercise and more water. These two are harder (well it's all hard). But oh so necessary.

I think a year ago I'd purchased a bunch of exercise DVDs. I, like most desperate, out of shape Americans, am easy prey for the "Lose weight fast!" schemes. So there's this website called Beach Body that sells series of exercise programs on DVD. I was lured in and ended up buying the entire series for both Turbo Jam and Yoga Booty Ballet. They sat on my shelf after that for... well, like I said, probably a year. I think I'd tried a few sessions out in each a couple of times. Then... collection of dust.

So as I was nearing my hitting of my weight "bottom", I was always thinking: I'll get a month pass to a nearby yoga/dance/gym/whatever-exercise-place studio and start going there. Then I hit the "bottom" and, realizing I don't really have that kind of money, pulled those DVDs off the shelf and dusted them off.

Oh my Gods, they are silly, I will admit. And for some reason I feel so embarrassed doing them that I have to go into my room and close the door. No one allowed to watch and I still feel silly!

But they get me moving.

Turbo Jam is led by the extremely perky Chalene Johnson who bounces about with insane energy and cheerleader spirit. "C'mon, you at home, get up and move with us!! You can do it! You rock!! Whoooo!" It may feel silly but at least it's way more genuine than YBB (as you read on). In fact, she seems to really, truly be that excited to be there, just to be helping you out. I suppose it's supposed to be inspirational. I think I always end up grumbling, "Yeah, yeah, okay, okay, shut up now." but maybe am slightly, secretly pleased.

Apparently she had studied martial arts, dance and aerobics and decided to put all those together to create Turbo Jam. (Which appeals to my loves as well, minus the aerobics). It's the more caloric burn of the two series although it does incorporate some sculpting and strengthening. I just started with the "Learn and Burn" part, where you go over her "Elite 11 Moves" that she created and then you do a little 16 minute workout.

To get some idea of what kind of shape I'm in, I was panting during the "Here's how you do this move..." which was barely moving. The actual session involves a hell of a lot of kicking and moving about, including the "Turbo" itself which is a few minutes of pushing it as hard as you can.

So, that's the aerobic part of my workout. And since I have the entire series, I can choose from any type of workout in that series: cardio "party", ab work, buns work, blah blah.

Then there's Yoga Booty Ballet. I think I would have shot my publicist for that one. Yeah, yeah, clever and appeals to the masses of this crazy, contemporary world that loves booty and such. I still would have had my publicist hung by toenails. For Turbo Jam, too; they're both dumb.

Yoga Booty Ballet is exactly that, the infusion of yoga with ballet and booty, in this case sometimes being sculpting and sometimes referring to "shake your booty, get funky". It mostly seems to be stretching and strengthening with small weights although later in the series, has some dancy routines to get you moving more.

It's all very Hollywood, apparently popular there as well. It's also very white light, new age crap too. The poser kind that I really abhor. I don't mind yoga or meditation or goddessing but it has to be genuine, it has to be real. Like Marty said in his entry about Cafe Gratitude, that it never would have worked were it not sincere.

YBB is headed by two women, Gillian Marloth (blond) and Teigh McDonough (brunette). Gillian seems like she's high, all limp eyed and breathy voiced, "As you reach your arms up, it's as if you're aspiring towards the sky and holding the sun in your arms!" PUKE.

Teigh seems a little more genuine and energetic, taking you through the exercises in a more "instructor" type of way, with some cheerleading, "Look, you finished this section! Congratulations!" Her I don't mind as much. I can handle that.

And so it begins. The mad dash for otter-ness. And I've noticed already a slight obsession. If I was sedentary before, now I see a flip. I want to try and exercise every day. I think about exercising several times a day (although I don't).

You know how men can make an sexual innuendo out of anything? Woman: "Excuse me, my oil needs to be changed?" Man: "Hehe, I'll change your oil!" Okay, I exaggerate, but I myself am like this, with fretting and drama. I can infuse a good fret and drama into just about anything. I'm serious.

Do I do the Yoga Booty Ballet because I really need the stretching and strengthening or the Turbo Jam for the calorie/weight loss burn? And I can seriously get quite anxious over this very silly question.

But I think, at this point, it just comes down to moving my lazy ass. In any fashion, be it those DVDs, walking, biking, sex, dancing, practicing with my fire toys.

Just get Moving!!

Singing

Heh, well, okay, about singing.

I love that too! And I mean LURVE.

Go figure, considering how much I love music. One of the best instruments out there is the voice. And often when I say I really like so and so as an artist, I'll say she/he has such a great voice.

Singing to me is like dancing. You can move your voice as much as you move your body. The resonance singing creates in my chest, throat and head is soothing, trancing. It goes beyond me, really.

I sing any chance I get. Since I'm listening to music all the time, that's a lot of singing. Anything that's got words, sometimes even songs that don't. Especially it the song is in my voice range, which apparently, leaves me very little not to sing. I can sing fairly high and medium low. Plus you can always adjust a song and still sing it.

Yeah, like with dancing, I wanted to sing, in front of people. Despite the fact that my stage fright would kill me. And like with dancing, it's a desire that still lingers.

If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out - Cat Stevens

Well, if you want to sing out, sing out
And if you want to be free, be free
'Cause there's a million things to be
You know that there are

And if you want to live high, live high
And if you want to live low, live low
'Cause there's a million ways to go
You know that there are

Chorus:
You can do what you want
The opportunity's on
And if you can find a new way
You can do it today
You can make it all true
And you can make it undo
you see ah ah ah
its easy ah ah ah
You only need to know

Well if you want to say yes, say yes
And if you want to say no, say no
'Cause there's a million ways to go
You know that there are

And if you want to be me, be me
And if you want to be you, be you
'Cause there's a million things to do
You know that there are

Chorus

Well, if you want to sing out, sing out
And if you want to be free, be free
'Cause there's a million things to be
You know that there are (repeat)

Not the official music video... clips of someone's dogs... Listen!



What wonder, what awe, that we humans in all our craziness, our waring, our destructions, can create such beauty and passion with our very bodies. Dancing and singing!! All in one package! I am always fantastically astounded with this discovery, over and over and over again.

Dance Movies

So, after all those events that Marty planned out, did he get me any presents? Why, yes he did.

First, a "Classroom In a Book" book on Adobe Photoshop 7.0, which basically is exactly what it says: a book on Photoshop broken up into lessons that you can follow along with your software. Since we don't have Photoshop CS (new version), but did have 7.0, this worked out. It's pretty well written and works for my "follow along and do" style of learning. And a perfect complement to my uber new digital SLR camera I recently obtained.

Second, was a big pile of dance movies. Burn the Floor, Center Stage, A Chorus Line, Dirty Dancing, Flash Dance, Footloose, Mad Hot Ballroom, Saturday Night Fever.

This had me giggling and gushing. Okay, sound strange to you, that heap big Aries giggles in such a fashion? Allow me to give some small background to this.

Unto you, all dear readers, I admit this. Don't let it go to your heads.

I am a complete sucker for dance movies.
I adore them.
I get all mushy and moon.
I turn into a complete girl.

Especially for dance movies where the characters triumph at the end through dance. Of course Marty makes a good point: there aren't really many dance movies that DON'T have this plot line.

It's funny, for all my love of dance movies, my collection basically sucked. Dirty Dancing and Save the Last Dance was it. Sad, huh. But now, thanks to Marty, it has grown in leaps and bounds. At first no pun intended then I realize that it works anyway, so... pun intended. :)

So why do I like dance movies so much? Because dancing is just about the coolest thing that we human beings can do with our bodies. (Along with singing!) All sorts of different styles, ballet to hip hop to martial arts (in general but capoeira comes primarily to mind), belly dancing, tap dancing, partner dancing like ballroom, salsa, swing... I could probably keep going. Bodies are beautiful to begin with but then take the sinuous twisting and flow of muscle in dance movement and wuff!! And the things really good dancers can do with their bodies? It's beyond amazing. And now you know the body type I'm most attracted to!

Then add what a good dancer can put Energetically (metaphysically, I mean) into the moving of the body and it transcends beyond reality and travels to a different dimension altogether. Yeah, did I mention sappy, moony and new age-y, as well? Ah, the moony part, yes.

So Marty and I have been working our way through the movies, Footloose and Center Stage so far. I'd never seen Footloose and that was a fun, very 80's movie. I'd seen Center Stage before a while ago but wanted to watch it again.

And another reason, maybe just as important or more than the first, why I love dance movies... As Marty and I were watching Center Stage, near the end, I got all teary. Not normal, girly gushy mooniness. But as I was watching, I got hit by something that hits me almost every time I watch a dance movie. I have always wanted to be a dancer. At one point in my life, maybe even a professional dancer. These days, I probably couldn't dance professionally, especially given the chronic body stuff, but the desire to dance, for others even, is still very strong. And I suppose it might those tears might be regret or maybe just mooniness.

So I love dancing, as much as I love singing. Oh, I haven't posted on singing yet have I? Well, that gets its own entry too.

One Year Older

(Originally this entry was titled "Dance Movies" but then I decided I wanted that ensuing section to have its own entry.)

So for my birthday (April 19th), I took my long ass overnight shift off and promptly informed Marty that he would be scheduling something for the three day weekend that would be available due to this day off. He, in typical Marty fashion, when asked what we were doing as the weekend drew near, played it off, "We're going to McDonald's!!!" or "We're going to watch truck pulls." (his version of tractor pulls, I guess).

So what did we actually end up doing?

So, I received an email Wednesday evening stating that I needed to pack an overnight bag with change of clothes and hiking boots. Now most people would think, "Oh cool, we're going to go hiking!!" Well, I know Marty. I know better. Take one weekend I put in his hands, stating I wanted him to plan some big events since I had been doing so for a while previously. Marty thinks he can't plan, but he's very meticulous, making up little packets of info for me: Event One - pack such and such. And a "master" packet for himself with all the actual info. It's all very cute. One of my little packets from this previous event said to pack warm clothes and a windbreaker. Hmm, maybe sailing, one might think? But nay, we jumped out of a damned airplane.

So, as you can see, I put no faith into the obvious with Marty.

Thursday afternoon we went to Cafe Gratitude, a raw/vegan restaurant that we frequent. You can read a good description of Cafe Gratitude at Marty's blog. Although an avowed meat eater, I enjoy the food there, although find that it doesn't "stick" with me all that long. But very, very tasty.

Then we drove up to Sonoma and stayed at a bed and breakfast up there called the Sonoma Chalet, a funky place with some interesting decor. We stayed in the Mural Room which included this very creepy doll in our room's closet, which we both said upon seeing, "Eeewww!" in that "Oh, my, that is very creepy." sort of way. We first saw it looming out of the darkness of the closet.
Since it was so exceptionally creepy, I took a photo with my phone camera as it appeared to us. And then with flash, just so you can see it better. I mean, who puts that kind of creepiness in a guest bedroom closet?!?!














But despite this, it was a fun stay, going out on the Sonoma main "square", taking photos, sampling cheese, eating tasty meals. Lots of French oriented food, likely due to Sonoma/Napa Valley being a massive wine growing area. Lots of Spanish oriented architecture, likely due to California being under Mexico. In fact, being on the square, park in the middle, stores lining the outside, felt like being in New Mexico, Santa Fe, Albuquerque. After our day, we went back to the B&B and did some reading in the antiqued-out sitting room, me having a tiny bit of cream sherry. I don't usually drink but the whole idea of having some sherry in this sitting room felt fantastically uber "haughty" to me, so I had to. The breakfast in the morning was fun, being served by the owners of the B&B and Marty going a bit bonkers with my new camera.

Then we went to see the ruins of "Wolf House", which was a rather massive stone house Jack London was building for himself and his wife. It burned down right before they were set to move in later and although some reconstruction had started, he died three years later. I took photos but haven't processed any of them so you can go here to see photos and read about it. Although I have to say, the two photos look almost exactly like two I took...

Then we drove down to Napa and had lunch at a fun little tapas restaurant with a decidedly French flavor, very tasty. I think I gained pounds on this trip. Friday night, after coming home from Napa, we went to see a dance performance, which ties into my previous title ("Dance Movies") and will become more clear in that post. We saw a show called SCUBA which is a co-operative venture between several dance venues across the country to introduce new dancers to the national touring circuit. As I understand it. You can check out the proposal for yourself.

So Saturday we get up early and go out on a boat to go whale watching. It ended up being whale searching and sea bird viewing. Our naturalist was very into birds. VERY into birds. But we got to see the Faralon Islands, off our coast, which is a natural bird preserve with a couple of houses for researchers who live out there. The water was fairly choppy and tossed the boat about a bit. Well, a lot. I've never really been prone to sea sickness, maybe a little queasy occasionally but nothing worse. At first, I was fine, riding the swells with my body, letting my body swing with the boat, not stiffening up against the tossing. It really does help. As we approached the islands though, maybe an hour and a half into the trip (I think), I started feeling a bit nauseous. And then it just started to get worse. I think I would have been fine if I'd been able to get off the boat at an hour and a half but it went on for hours. So I stood there, swinging with the waves, trying to decide if throwing up would actually make me feel better or not. Then I went into "cab" of the boat and sat down. And then got right back up again to throw up off the stern. Mmmm, fun. But I did feel better afterwards, at least from the really awful nausea, but continued to feel rather queasy for the rest of the trip. Marty was feeling pretty ill as well and we were both pretty wiped when we got home.

So that was my birthday "weekend". One year older. And older.

Food

I love food!

There are all sorts of tastey things out there that one can consume. Sweet, salty, sour, even bitter. Cold, warm, cool, hot. Pickled, fermented, baked, sauteed, roasted, frozen, raw. Sticky, liquid, chewy, crunchy, melty, gooey. So many options!! How can one resist!!

I love, love, love meat, bread and sweets. My favorites!

But lately, the thing about food, as much as I love it... It's become my Nemesis.

I ate one half of a box of Thin Mints today (at work). I probably would have eaten the entire thing if the first half hadn't already been gone, due to the predations of other staff members.

It's like I couldn't stop. It's always the same these days. I'm saying, "Don't do it! Stop!" as I'm lifting the bread/sweet thing to my mouth. It's agony, berating myself, and yet, I can't stop myself. It seems to have gotten worse since going off wheat, high carbs/starches, most dairy and sugar for four months to determine if I'm allergic to wheat/gluten and sugar. I managed to stay off it all for four months. I ate meat and veggies and liked it. I didn't have much trouble with not eating those items, especially finding a nice pasta substitute (Tinkyada, excellent stuff!). But you can't get good non-gluten bread. So then I fell off, the wagon so to speak. These items are basically like crack to me. I'm helpless in the face of bread and sugar. And it fucks me up. Not seriously horribly like it can do to people who have a really bad allergy. But my chronic pain stuff flares, I get tired, bloated and depressed.

I'm glad I never got addicted to really noxious substances like streets drugs, alcohol, nicotine, even caffeine. Because this is bad enough. I was reading in The Diet Cure by Julia Ross, that basically, carbs and sugar ARE physically addicting. And the body wants more of what's bad for it. Now, how messed up is that?

I lost almost twenty pounds in that four months and I was just as sedentary as I am now, meaning I hate moving. No, it was not the damn Atkins diet because I ate plenty of carbs, all veggies and fruit. And as soon as I started eating bread again, the weight came back... in about two to three weeks. That's how toxic it is to my body. Sigh, but how I love it so!! Sniff.

Since then, I've been re-starting over and over... going off the Badness for a couple of days and then bingeing for a day. Sometimes I aggressively binge on purpose (such as today), thinking, "If I eat too much, it'll make me sick and I won't want to eat it anymore." Like that time in the Navy that I drank so much Southern Comfort, that I was so drunk and sick I could barely see. To this day, the merest sight of the stuff makes my stomach turn over. So, the same must apply to food, eh? If I eat too much, I'll get sick like that and, hey, problem of unstoppable desire solved! Haha.

So, back to 180 pounds, face breaking out, feeling so old, fat and ugly, I don't want any photos taken of me. Cameras can kiss my ass. Sigh. As a friend of mine says, "Assume the position." Marty took all these photos me (on my extremely sweet new uber Canon DSLR), awwwing and "You're so cute!" over them, with me squirming and decrying each and every one of the shots, "No! I'm ugly!"

Grumble. Pooey. Kiss my ass.

Assume the position.

Too Tired

Ever have one of those days? When you're just Too Tired. Too tired for anything.

I used to have these days quite frequently but not so much lately. But occasionally, I still do.

So I'm Too Tired today. I'm tired of work, tired of interests, tired of my husband, tired of my video games, tired of my house, my room, tired of my stuff, meaning belongings, tired of books, tired of being "fat and ugly", tired of TV, tired of my stuff, meaning my psychological baggage.

I'm tired of life in general.

Marty told me about this part of one of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy books, which I have read but didn't remember this part. Apparently there had been this huge thing visible from space which was a message left by a long ago people but no one knew what it said. All this research goes into trying to translate this message and apparently a long time passes by and then finally, the message is translated!

But actually, even though I like Marty's explanation better, Marty is remembering incorrectly because this actually comes from this part (found at Wikipedia):

The only profitable division of the company (Sirius Cybernetics
Corporation) is its Complaints division, which, according to the series,
takes up all of the major landmasses on the first three planets in the Sirius
Tau system. The theme song for the Complaints division is Share
and Enjoy, and has since become the theme apparent for the company as a
whole. The main office building and headquarters for the company was originally
built to represent this motto, but due to bad architecture it sank into the
ground, killing many talented young complaints associates. The downside to this
is that the building now read, in the dialect of the planet it was on:

"Go Stick Your Head in a Pig."

That's become sort of a phrase in my household to refer to wanting to hide away, stick your head in the sand sort of thing.

So I really want to stick my head in a pig today.

Lost Like This

Music is pretty much one of the most important things I have in my life.

As a teenager, and well, still as an adult, I can feel so much emotion in songs and sometimes even shift my mood by listening to certain songs. Ecstatic, joyous, sad, loving, deeply spiritual.

I've used music to describe how I feel about life and other people, making music CDs to say something through my chosen songs. Of course, this is very subjective as others may have different interpretations of the songs on the CD! I've kept music "journals", chosing various songs through the year to chronicle my various states of self. I made "description" tapes, describing myself through music, in a chosen period of time. I've even made "description" tapes and CDs of others, how I see them through my musical lens. Again, so highly subjective.

I'm always plugged in to my iPod or listening to music however I can get it in the moment.

So, naturally you'll find many songs throughout my blog entries since I do use music in the fashion that I use it in. Sometimes I use the whole song, sometimes part of the song. Depending on what's appropriate. Sometimes I use the whole song but only refer to part of it. I'll point those out in the moment.

I'll try to add a link to any song I use in this blog so you can hear the song. I went back through my previous posts and added links. So far I'm using YouTube.com since you find just about anything on there. Of course this means that the link leads to a video. Some of the videos are the actual band's video, some are videos created to the music by others. The Oingo Boingo videos done by others are weird but the actual music videos by Oingo Boingo are just plain disturbing. Gods, I love them!

Lately I've been feeling rather lost in my life and as this song rolled around on my iPod, it felt very much appropriate to my life at the moment.

Lost Like This - Oingo Boingo

I'm standing all alone out in the pouring rain
And though it really isn't like me to complain
I think I'm getting used to it.
I feel happy, and I also feel bad
I've never been here, but somehow I think I have
But I'm getting used to it.

(Chorus)
I've never been lost like this
I've never been lost like this
But I wouldn't be happy anywhere else
Nobody to tell us what to do - all by ourselves.

Don't know how I got here and I don't know why I stay
The poets all around are laughing in their graves
Must be something that I said.
This place is not like anything I've seen before
The spirits move around, the houses have no doors
But I'm getting used to it

(Chorus)

Isn't this a fine hello
I wish I hadn't seen you go
It's always a bitter pill
The broken mirror's broken still
The letters never made the post,
A thousand more I never wrote
And here on dark unfriendly streets,
I find the comfort that I seek
And I'm happy, and I've been happy...

(Chorus out...)

This is not the official music video but a not bad "music video" done by a fan of theLost series. Listen!

Nooby

This is Nooby. Nooby is the "house cat" at my work, Eucalyptus House. He's lived at Eucalyptus House pretty much all his life. As far as I understand, the residents who lived at the time of his arrival, we think possibly seven to eight years ago, named him Nooby. Not sure if it was supposed to be Newbie as in a new "resident" but that's how it's spelled. Nooby has gathered many nicknames as well, from staff and residents: Nubbs, Nubinator, Noobs, Nubbins, etc. Many permutations.

Most residents adore him and become very attached to him. And he is pretty much the sweetest and most friendly cat I've ever met. I guess you'd have to be living at social rehab house. He is tolerant of just about any thing thrown at him. If he doesn't like something, he just runs somewhere else. But I've seen people hold him upside down, roll him on the floor, chase him around the house and he just takes it in stride. In fact he seems to like being held upside down and wrestling around.

I've seen people get so attached to him that they buy him treats out of their own money, which they really do not get a lot of, maybe $20 a week. He has been the comfort of many a resident. I've even purposely dropped him into a suffering resident's lap and they find some calm while petting him. He truly is a therapy cat.

Being that we are a mental health facility in America, we have no extra budget and thus at one point, we were told to "get rid" of him. Fortunately a friend of one of the other counselors stepped up and stated she would be his patron, pay all his vet and sundry bills and that he could still live at Eucalyptus House. Pass number one.

Then another director decided that he would scratch up the new furniture she ordered and wanted to get rid of him. I promptly got on the internet and found Soft Paws, these rather cool little rubber tips you glue onto the claws. They can still retract and stretch, but since the claws are now blunted, no tearing furniture. She couldn't really argue that and he got to stay. By the way, I REALLY recommend Soft Paws, they really do work. Pass number two.

I took him to the vet today (well, yesterday, Thursday) and he did very well being jammed into a milk crate with a blanket over the top. I could have sworn we had a carrier but alas, I could not find it before his appointment. He hadn't been to the vet in probably two or three years. He's estimated to be around eight years old, a "senior" cat, and is in very good health.

I think Nooby is pretty much a fixture at the house now. And I'm very glad he's here because he can calm ME down too when I'm soaking up like a sponge the energy of the residents.

I hope he's around for a long time to come as he helps so many of us here at Eucalyptus House, staff and residents alike.

Long live the Nooby!!

Soak It Up

For me, fear is pain. And I am so afraid of pain. Physical, emotional, especially spiritual. Although I have to say physical seems to take precedent when I'm thinking about pain. When thinking of exercising or, as I was leaning towards, skateboarding. The thought of falling and the ensuing pain from a "big slam", as its called in the skating world, scares the crap out of me.

A lot of things scare the crap out of me and I tighten up on myself, usually physically, which usually leads to pain. Ah Circularity. And how like a sponge I become with fear and pain.

Pain - Oingo Boingo

Welcome to my little world, completely self-contained, yeah
Your problems they will soon be gone
We soak up, soak up, soak up lots of pain, yeah

If life is a reflecting pool, then we are like a sponge, yeah
Absorbing the good with the bad
We soak up, soak it up

So give me all your troubled thoughts
And baggage you can't handle, no
We'll gladly take it off your back
We soak, soak up, soak up lots of pain, yeah

(chorus)
Is it any wonder now, everybody goes insane
Everybody locks the door to keep out any strangers
Everybody's all pent up, everybody's got short fuse
Getting ready to blow up, we live in so much danger
Boys and girls in a line, come and get your big reward
You're not too late just in time
Put your hand on mine, you're mine, you're mine

When everybody has gone to bed, and children are asleep, yeah
I sit up late and watch TV
And soak up, soak up, soak up lots of pain, yeah

Little junior on the bus, his notebook by his side, yeah
He hardly ever makes a fuss, he soaks up so much pain

We've traveled far this monkey and me, by airplane, boat and train, yeah
We're here to eat up all your sins (and soak up all your pain), yeah
And soak up, soak up, soak up all your pain, yeah

(chorus)
Boys and girls of every creed, religion and persuasion, no
It's time to get up off your knees, we soak up, soak it up
So open the door and let me in, don't question who I am, no
Just shake my hand and give me your name
We soak up, soak it up

Listen!

I did end up buying a skateboard, well, a longboard, more suited for "cruising" around rather than tricks and such. But it got sold probably four days after purchased because I fell pretty much every time I was on it and I just got too nervous. I've tried pulling out my rollerblades but the similar fear comes up. Falling.

Saturday, 3/31, Marty and his best friend James, and I went down to Santa Cruz in order to see Adyashanti, a zen meditator teacher type, do they have an official name? We went on the Boardwalk and it was the first time I'd ever been to Santa Cruz. Well, the Boardwalk anyway. I think I was down there previously for an herbal consult appointment (me as "patient").

The Boardwalk was just like every Boardwalk I'd seen in movies or on TV. Lights, rides, lots of sugary things to eat. James and Marty wanted to go on a roller coaster. I did not. Remember that fear of falling? It's not so much the plunging to my death from a great height. I know, to some degree that I am safe within the car, etc. Well, I do have fears around that but they don't seem as strong as the physical sensation of falling that causes such terrifying and griping fear. Ultimately, I suppose it's all about the existential fear of death.

So we buy our tickets, the old fashion "Six Tickets Per Ride" thingie and get in line for the Great Dipper, a roller coaster built in the 1920's or some such, now named a National Historical Thingie. I think that's the category in any case. You know, one of those old wooden ones, that make lots of clacking and ratcheting noise as it rolls around. At fast speeds, down hills.

I'm fretting in line, twisting my fingers, which is one of my signs of anxiety; I start picking at my fingernails and entwining and twisting my fingers about. Surely, we are going to die.

As we get closer and can see the cars being loaded up and taking off, people screaming in what is to my ears, mortal terror, mine only gets worse. But you know, once you're sitting in the car, locked in with that stupid, flimsy little bar (full body harness, please!!), you're done for. There's no getting off. You are in for this ride. No changing your mind.

So the bar goes down, last check and they release the brakes or whatever. Okay, and really does the very first fucking thing have to be plunging you down a steep hill, diving into a tunnel of darkness? I screamed, but not those "Whoo, this is scarey fun!!" but the little gasping screams of the truly terrified. Since I did not have a full body harness, I jammed my feet into the front bar of the car and held on, pushing out with my feet to keep from jumping up out of the seat going down hills (an experience I've had before on log flues and other coasters).

Well, so what do I do usually do with pain? I close around it, hiding myself away, tightening up physically against the pain, emotional and physical. Run and hide.

Who Can It Be Now? - Men At Work

Who can it be knocking at my door?
Go away, don't come 'round here no more.
Can't you see that it's late at night?
I'm very tired, and I'm not feeling right.
All I wish is to be alone;
Stay away, don't you invade my home.
Best off if you hang outside,
Don't come in - I'll only run and hide.

Who can it be now? Who can it be now?
Who can it be now? Who can it be now?

Who can it be knocking at my door?
Make no sound, tip-toe across the floor.
If he hears, he'll knock all day,
I'll be trapped, and here I'll have to stay.
I've done no harm, I keep to myself;
There's nothing wrong
with my state of mental health.
I like it here with my childhood friend;
Here they come, those feelings again!

Who can it be now? Who can it be now?
Who can it be now? Who can it be now?

Is it the man come to take me away?
Why do they follow me?
It's not the future that I can see,
It's just my fantasy

Oh... Who can it be now?
Oh... Who can it...
Who can it...
Yeah yeah yeah

Official music video. Listen!


So at one point, I was aware of loud sobs almost without tears coming out of my mouth, racking my body. But I just let it happen. I really couldn't do anything else under this massive onslaught of adrenaline and fear. Marty was sitting next to me and I was barely aware of him. I think he touched my hand or knee a couple of times but I'm really not sure, my body couldn't assimilate anything else at that point. I had to let it do with my body whatever it would do. And so crying is how it came out, along with those little rabbit-caught-by-a-fox screams.

I wasn't able to transmute the sensations in the moment. You know, some people get on those crazy things and scream and laugh and let their fear become Fun Fear. Rather than Fear Fear. However, there were moments that I could almost see that quality of Fun Fear, where my body could relax into the swinging and dropping motions, roll with the flow. But, as I said, I couldn't quite get there. When the car stopped, I was gasping in short little mewls and my legs were almost non-existent, jello, and quivering as such. Mmmm, maybe cherry flavor.

But, I will say, I think for the first time in memory, I wanted to get back on and challenge that fear. To see if I could allow myself to let go, bodily sink into the swing and drop, the horrible feeling of falling, falling into Fear I feel like I will never come out of.

I had had a Rosen session earlier in the day with Steuart, my bodyworker. David (my cousin who died in 1994, one of my soul's mate, like a brother to me, as an only child) had come up, intertwined with my Passion (meaning Creativity, Spirituality, Eros of Life). It was a hard session as I realize that I'm still carrying so much grief around losing him. All this was sitting in my body before the Coaster ride. Being how I've found Rosen so helpful to me, I can't help but think this is part of my wanting to go back, challenge Fear, conquer it.

Because my Fear goes beyond just the physical. I fear myself. I think I am ugly, fat and gross. And, yes, I'm about forty pounds over where I want to be but not obese by any sense of the word. But I still hate the way I look. Fear of Self, being Powerful, being Beautiful. Being full Real and Deep.

David held the faith in me that I am powerful, beautiful, Amazonian without ever even saying anything such.

And so in the midst of all of this, I recognize this about myself:

Excerpt from: Easter - Stuart Davis

I'm just the girl with the planet inside of me
I'm the daughter of Man but the men have been fighting me
I bathed my brother and my brother ignited me
Divinity's twins 'til some devil divided the
Goddess from the hominid's odyssey
I am, I am what I am
I am an antidote to the new age philosophy
Epicac to this mythic coprophagy

Heh.

Stuart Davis live, performing the song.

The Boingo of the Oingo

Lately I've been on this Oingo Boingo kick. They are on my top five list of favorite bands. Their songs wind in and out on my iPod but recently I've been opening up just their list and listening to them alone.

I love their witty bluntness about the shadow of human condition. Plus they are very twisted, with such songs like "Little Girls":

I love little girls they make me feel so good
I love little girls they make me feel so bad
When they’re around they make me feel
Like I’m the only guy in town
I love little girls they make me feel so good
.....

Uh oh take a second take
Uh oh it’s a mistake
Uh oh I’m in trouble
Uh oh the little girl was just to little
Too little, too little, too little
Isn’t this what life’s all about
Isn’t this a dream come true
Isn’t this a nightmare too . . .

The official music video. Listen!

To the crazy whacky "Insects":

Tiny insects in my hair
Tiny insects everywhere
Tiny insects in my pants
Watching insects make romance
Insects make me make me want to dance dance dance
They make want to dance . . ."
(song breaks into a funky almost motown beat)

Not the official music video. Listen!

I adore them. Plus it's just well done music. Lot of horns and synth, a strange sort of 80's flavor. And you can't go wrong with the impish, devilish Danny Elfman, lead singer for Oingo Boingo and movie composer Extraordinaire (for over 100 movies and video games since the late 1970's, such as Beetle Juice, most of the Batmans, Men in Black, Edward Scissorhands, various Simpons episodes, mostly dark sci-fi and fantasy movies).

I mean, look at him, second from left. Eee-vil!!

In any case, Oingo Boingo rocks!!

Airports

Okay, how familiar is that sight? Or maybe more memorable filled with people and luggage going round and round.

I'm waiting at baggage claim for my mother who just flew in from Kentucky. I really miss the days when non-ticketed folks were allowed to meet their people at the Gate. Remember *those* days?

Those were not the days of sitting in the baggage claim area listening to airport-wide announcements, "The Homeland Security threat level is Orange."

Christ, the baggage conveyor just started up and scared the crap out of me and my mom just walked up too so I must go.