Thursday, February 26, 2009


So, here we are. Back to yoga and life. Hmm. Jen, I know you hate when I talk yoga. Stay with me, I will most certainly switch gears, change my train of thought and have enough grammarical errors to keep you either interested or rolling your eyes.

So, In YOGA there is a little move. It's also a gymnastic move. It's a press up to handstand. Which means you use no momentum to get there. Your feet are on the floor. Your hands are on the floor and all of the sudden, magically you are pulling your feet over your head and are in handstand. This move has eluded me for years. Until recently. I learned the trick. Granted, there is a lot involved, but also, there's always a trick. For a long time I just could not wrap my head around how to pull my feet off the ground with out the slightest jump. Recently in a workshop Krista Cahill enlightened me. Then I told Twist, and she told two friends, and so on. Not really. But I do try to explain it to the amazing women who come to my class. To those women who astound, entertain and inspire me every week.

Tonight in class, one of my favorite's (all though everyone is my favorite) Liz and I started talking about the whole school of thought of momentum. Using momentum and not needing momentum. She told me momentum is a force in voodoo. They believe people with momentum can do anything. It's the snowball effect. I guess, outside of voodoo this is common too. She said that they (being the voodoo folks, I guess??) believe that momentum can be good or bad. Like perhaps Hitler could be a form of bad, he had momentum and looked what happened there. And what could be an example of good momentum? Let's see... um, I dunno, maybe (for those of us who drank the kool ade) Obama. Yes, I drank and I see him having good momentum. So again, I am hopeful.

So I asked Liz (cause she's smart like Asude), "Well, what happens when you don't need momentum? When you can do it all with your strength, your resolve and your belief in yourself."
"Ah," she said, "When you don't need the momentum, you have all the power in the world."
Rock on.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Sir, I Do Say My Apologies

So, today is my "brother closest in age to me's" birthday. Seriously, that's how I refer to him. I just thought about that. Scott is, "My oldest brother," Mark is... we all know what I refer to him as. My older brother that looks younger. ;).
Anyway, I did txt you today Chris. Then it got to late to call. I hope you had an insanely good day. I hope that this year is your best yet. I absolutely love your comments. They are always so insightful and your quotes make my journal every time. The actual private journal that is not posted for anyone to see. I especially loved your comment from yesterday with the story about the guy that treated every single person he met as if it was their last year of life. I am nice everyday, today I was extra nice, to the guy at the post office, the checker at the grocery store and even my dogs. They got extra treats cause of you. It was like a little birthday present for them, since you are an animal lover. You are an inspiration. I love you dearly. Happy Birthday!

Monday, February 23, 2009

What You Put Out Comes Back...

All the time, not matter what.

A quote from the list. I haven't done one for a while.

Well this is true, right? I really think it is. I have been seeing examples of it all over the place. Left and right. Up and down. All around. Positive energy just invites in more positive energy. It's like bait on a fishing rod.

I think some people are filled with light to share and some people have a dark tint to them. Light attracts itself. It brings you in. I'm thinking that's why in movies when someone dies they say, "Look into the light." It's a good thing. No one wants to be in the dark dingy place.
Straight from
Q: Why do dark colors attract more heat and light than light colors?
A:They do not attract light, they absorb it, that is why they are darker. Light colors reflect more light (to your eyes), that is why they are light.
it has to do with the light energy that dosen't stop, lighter colors tend to reflect when there isn't a place for the light to bounce off of it has to stop and the energy remains as heat
because dark traps the light and doesn`t let go

Trapped is not often a word that brings out a good feeling. Trapped is an animal in a cage. Or that girl in the basement fattening up to make a skin suit out of. Yuck.
So that's why I think it's important to make sure you're always trying to put it out there. Smile when you make eye contact with people. It's such a simple concept and goes such a long way, I don't understand why everyone doesn't do it more. When you smile at someone you are non verbally telling them you want them to be happy. Even if it's just for that second of the smile. Share with people, not only your things, but your time, you feelings, your truth. Truly want other people to be happy and do well. Revel in their accomplishments with them. And if for some reason, something doesn't work out. Pat them on the back, remind them, "When one door closes, another one opens." Cause if it didn't you'd just be stuck in a room. No one wants to be stuck.
So what are you going to put out there?
I like that list. Those are all things I like to offer and I like to come back.
What don't I want?
Of course at some point you might do or say something that isn't the best choice. Acknowledge it. Feel it and move on. Just so you don't get stuck in that dark room again. You'd need a night light. Light! Again!

These are partial lyrics from one of my favorite songs. I always listen to it when I need a little boost. Works every time. In fact, I'm going to turn it on now. I could use it... And guess what it's called? Sunny Hours. Light is becoming a theme here. I'm pretty sure I veered off point, it's Monday. Is that an excuse?

I only got the sunny hours, the brightest hours of day
I never count the gloomy hours, I let them slip away
(Don't slip away yo)
And I realize I'm awake
"Come on"
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm alright y'all, alright y'all
You wanna be alright you gotta walk tall
"Come on"
"Step up"
"Come on"
Its like the wise man said,
"Relax yourself
When its moving too fast you set ya down
When the going gets tough then get to going
If you really wanna speak than make the sound
Keep your eyes on the prize and realize
That the struggles gonna come in all shapes and size
But you gotta stay strong, don't let your knees buckle
Gotta keep the hustle, keep hustling"
Do it, Do it, Do it
Let the lovin', let the lovin' come back to me
Bring it, bring it, bring it, bring it, bring it back to me

Long Beach Dub Allstars

There's Been A Sighting?

Dear Twisted One,
I know you'll read this. I was busy all day. I just listened to my messages now. It's actually Monday. I am so sad I didn't see it earlier cause I could have used a good laugh tonight. I can't wait to hear...

Okay, now here's my blog post. I know I have been a slacking (Twist cares). I have been very busy painting. You better watch out, if you show up at my house, I will paint you too. I can't seem to stop. Okay, now I really say something that's not like a journal entry. Dear Diary, Today I painted, then I was sad. Then I watched the Oscars, fast forwarding through most cause it bored me beyond belief. I don't recall laughing at all, except a little smile for Reese. She's so cute. Like like a little button. Ok, reeling it back in.

Do you have those people that you simply completely forgot they existed? Not in a bad way. It's like, they were in your life at one time, in one period, then they moved on and somehow they almost got erased from your memory. Then by some strange Universe type joke they pop back up right in front of you. This is the awkward way. You look at them, start to mentally go through snapshots hoping you can drum up a name or a memory, especially when they seem so happy to see you. Or is it just me? Maybe. My memory is awful, and it's not because I'm just not paying attention Mark! It's like a net, lots of things just slip though. It has to be a big fish or some seaweed for me to remember.

And then there are those people who were in your life and it might not have been the most positive experience. And something or somethings happened to make you pull away from them. There was just no need anymore. And as a really funny Universe type joke they just appear right next to you in a yoga class or __________________?

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

But We've Got Papers!

Here is a sample conversation, any given day when someone new comes in our house. First let me set the stage: "Yap Yap Yap Yap Yap." Small furry black and white creature wiggles its back half, shakes it's head with some sort of toy in it, all the while sort of hopping backwards. (Hey, Marc, do you think it's a kangaroo?)

Visitor in my house: "Huh? What kind of dog is that?"
Me: "It's a Pomeranian."
At this point a strange look crosses over their face. Their eyes squint. Their head tilts to the side. "Really? That doesn't look like any Pomeranian I've ever seen."
Yea, tell me something I haven't heard a hundred thousand times before, even from the vet.
"Well, we've got papers from the Pet Store (that has since gone out of business) that say he's a Pomeranian."
"Amy, you know people can forge passports, birth certificates and print fake money, do you think someone couldn't have whipped up some fake papers so they could over charge you?"
"Shut up." that's my smart retort.

Let me lay this out. His name is Mickey. Although we haven't figured out from what animal family he hails from we do know for a fact that he's a boy. We know that because one time when I was cutting a knot out of his fur I almost did the surgery myself. Let's all say a little thank you to God that I did not perform any medical procedures that I am not liscensed to in the state of Pa. Or anywhere else for that matter. Suffice it to say. Someone was looking out for Mickey that day. I noticed at the last minute there weren't extra knotted balls of hair.
We've always been convinced he is half cat. He does cough up hair balls. Pad around on the bed to make a "spot" for himself, and mew, just like a cat. Or does he squeak? It's an odd sound. He also carries around a binkie and performs unjust acts on poor unsuspecting toys we turn over to him like accessories to a serial killer. It's sad really. The animal just lies there with a dead eye staring up at the ceiling while Mickey "hangs out" with it.
My friend Ashley wants to videotape it for an expert to look at.

I'm going to follow Asudes lead and make an online gratitude journal. Today's theme is Mickey.
1. I'm grateful he takes the time to smell the flowers. We could all learn a lesson from Mickey.
2. I'm grateful he gives my German Shepherd something to play with.
3. I'm grateful he'll hold onto the cookie I give him for hours until I get home to eat it. It makes me feel loved.
4. I'm grateful he's not like all the other dogs. He's so fitting for me.
5. I'm grateful he hasn't bitten anyone to the point of a hospital visit.

How Do You Measure Time?

Well, if you have two children one grade apart it could be by the fourth grade science project. Or should I say the kind of kid/sibling/parent/friend/ of parent Science project? In my house, it's a group effort.

It starts out Marc and Chase. Marc is good at that kind of stuff. Chase is so lazy (about school work, he kicks butt at paint balling, motorcycle riding, and decorating- for real real, another day on that, prepare to be impressed). At any rate, before I totally side track myself, Marc and Chase get out the cheese and start the project. They are letting different kinds of cheese mold. Yum. Guess what? Lot's of cheese's they sell have so many preservatives in them they DON'T mold. How gross is that? Asude, are you paying attention?

So the cheese sits there for weeks (Chase records nothing). We have 3 days before the big project is due. It's Sunday morning, Marc and Chase start researching. Marc is diligently working and Chase comes in to where I'm painting and says, "Mom, can I go out and play?" I scream, "GET YOUR BUTT BACK IN THERE."
NO! I don't do that, but it sounded funny to me this morning on my overdose of caffeine. I really say, "Later, after your done your project."
"Amy!" I hear Marc calling me.
"What's the difference between a dependent and an independent variable?" he asks from the other room.
I'm sorry. Do I look like I'm in fourth grade? How am I supposed to know that.
"Well, one is controlled," I say. Only because I'm going for smarter in '09.
It goes on like this for a while. Marc does the majority of the work. Chase wanders around and guesses at the days it took the cheese to look slimy, get hard, but never mold.

Fast forward to last night (project is due today). I have Saige type out all the written stuff. I glue it to the board. Chase plays paintball and works on his fort with Conner from up the road. Then Saige and I realize he didn't write a report. Great.

Enter Ashley. My friend Ashley comes in and takes over. She goes in the refrigerator and finds some moldy cheddar! Yes she does! She is Chase's idol already. By now Chase is back in the picture, together he and Ashley rock out an excellent project with information on Penicillin to boot. Takes a village baby. Just ask Hillary.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Today I'm Grateful For...

The writers of Weeds.
The writers of Californication.
And the newest member of my who I'm thankful for... the writer of United States of Tara. Who is none other than Diablo Cody, who wrote Juno.
I'm thankful for Toni Collette.
The guy who used to be Carrie's boyfriend on Sex in the City (although I can't remember his name)
The kid who plays the gay son so swimmingly (do you like that Jen, or no?)
and that teenage daughter. Damn does she make having an 11 year old seem terrifying.

Have. You. Seen. This. Show?
It's so fun and twisted and just out there that it brings a big old smile to my face.
The other night we watched two episodes on On Demand. There are still 3 or 4 I haven't seen. It's so exciting.
Do you know the first time we watched Weeds it wasn't until the series was over and we watched the whole thing on after I downloaded it from Itunes. The whole season at once. The joy of that is almost unexplainable.
I'm not a tv watcher really. There are shows I like, but most time I'm preoccupied with my computer or a book or magazines or something else that makes me not pay attention. If I do watch tv I have the very annoying habit (sorry Marc) of fast forwarding through half the show. I think I might have shared that before. It's sounding familiar. But I do. I don't care about most of the show. I just want to see the end. Like for instance, The Biggest Loser. I like that show. I love the trainers, I love the people, I even like that blond who is the host person, who always seems a little out of it. But the bulk of the show just bores the hell out of me. I only want to see the weigh in and then how the person who got kicked off looks.

Wow, I really veered off there.
Moral of the story: US of Tara is on Showtime, no breaks, no downtime, no boring part of the show. Just one continual shake of the head and think to yourself, "I'm not crazy at all!"
That's what I'm grateful for tonight. Let's all lower our heads in prayer.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

"All You Need is Love. Love is all You Need."

The Beatles
(and happy belated Valentines day by the way, thanks Mom for my Valentine's day header)

There is a "Story Person" sculpture by Brian Andreas that hangs in my office. It says, "I've always liked the time before dawn because there's no one around to remind who I'm supposed to be so it's easier to remember who I am."
I love that quote. I took this picture out the window of my own little office very early Friday morning. It reminded me of the meaning of that saying.

For me, that's so true too. Early in the morning before the day has started before anyone without a coat of fur and a wet snout needs anything from me is when I can really breathe. I love sitting at my desk drinking coffee taking a mental inventory of my day, going through e mail and just chillin'. It is one of those, "little things," that makes me bizarrely happy.

"People destined to meet will do so apparently by chance, at precisely the right moment." Emerson's Law of Spiritual Gravitation.

Health is not a commodity to be bargained for. It has to be earned through sweat. -B.K.S. Iyebgar

"Your outlook on life is a direct reflection of how much you like yourself."- Taken right off the Lulumon poster. :)

I could quote for days.
What are your favorites?

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Is it to Much?

So today my friend Ashley came over. I have known her for a very long time, decades, since the bicentennial, from when there were phones that plugged in the wall with curly cords. Love her long time.

So here's the deal. My kids love my friends. Especially my friends that have been around since the dawn of time. Every other summer I take my daughter to see my oldest best friend in Istanbul. She loves her like another super cool Mom. But better. One of her many very favorite parts about being with BA is the stories. Stories that are told of us when we were kids. One of her very favorites is about how one time when we were about 12 we stole her dad's cigarettes. We took the pack behind their house and tried to smoke them. They were gross. We tossed the pack. We got home and there was some reason her dad couldn't go out. He wanted those cigs man. Apparently they were his last pack. He asked if we took them. Of course we said no. He said as nice as he could possibly grit through his teeth, "Are you sure you haven't seen them?" "No, of course not, " we answered. Then he started to get ticked. "Listen," he said, "You aren't going to be in any trouble. I will never tell Mom, just give me the cigarettes." The cigarettes were long gone by this time. We had nothing to offer. He stomped off in a nic fit and we went down into the basement and rocked it out to , "I'm Coming Out."

This is a story my daughter has heard more than once. Is that wrong?

In comes Ashley. Crazy, unfiltered Ashley. Who btw I am hoping to put a video up of because if you could hear her imitating her 95 year old grandmother who just thinks Ashley is just a nutcase you would fall on the floor laughing. She sounds like the mother from "Throw Momma From the Train." I swear to God, it is so funny it must be shared. Ashley can imitate it perfectly and imitate herself talking to Victorine. For some reason she is inclined to defend herself and bicker with her, which just adds to the insanity, but thankfully for us, also adds to the humor of the whole situation.

At any rate, back to the point at hand, as if there ever was one. So Ashley is here. My son considers her "his." He loves her. He doesn't want to do anything but talk to her. Listen to her stories, which are plentiful and hold on to her. For real. He's always loved her but now she is here for good. It's a good thing... Until she starts to go into the "when we were kids" stories too. God, listening to my friends talk, we were kinda bad (not really Mommy) I'm not sure if it's a good idea my kids hear these stories. I don't want to give them any additional ideas... Thoughts friends?

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Broadway Baby

So as a continuation from a few posts ago. For those couple of you who keep up with my rambling thoughts. More than one person, Lora, Simple Answer, anyone else? commented that many Mommies like to act like they've got it all together.
Their kids are perfect.
They're perfect.
Their husband is perfect.
Their house is perfect.
Their life is perfect.
It's all perfect.

This is so lovely. And honestly, if that's true, more power to you.
Let me just say. If there is one thing I have learned in my 39 years, and many of them during my 39th year, is that usually, things aren't really as they seem. I'm sorry, I don't want to be the one to let the cat out of the bag (although if in real life if there was for some reason a cat stuck in a bag, I would be the first one to let it out) but for the sake of this sentence, they're a lot of Broadway shows going on out there. Oh yes there are. I have been a witness to some. I have starred in a couple. I have listened to people talk, I have heard stories, I have read e mails. People are putting on some shows baby.
Case and point. Lovely family in the Southwest. Mother, father, son, daughter. Everything looks perfect. Meanwhile (edited for child reading) it's not. This came to me by e mail and the exact words were, "On the outside looking in, it looks a lot nicer than it really is.
Let me tell you, if you saw this beautiful family in a restaurant, you might be envious. Each member is better looking than the next. The father is successful, the mother is lovely, the children are polite and kind. Each one is playing a little part.
This is not an uncommon story. I have a whole drawer full of them. People tell me stuff. I think cause I'll listen, and I'll never judge. Never ever ever. You know that saying with the glass houses?
I could tell you stories til your eyes fell out. I won't, because that would be unpleasant, and I hate unpleasantries.
The thing is, it doesn't bother me in the least when someone acts like they've figured this whole thing out. I actually like it. The way I look at it is it could go one of two ways.

The first one being, giving them the benefit of the doubt. They are perfect. They have made it all work and barely have a hair out of place. In this case, perhaps they could give me a few pointers. The good Lord knows I could use them. I'm not afraid to ask. I'll ask you anything and I'll tell you anything. It's my nature.

The second scenario for Mommy Dearest (which I'd be willing to take the "over" on- did that make sense Asude?) is that they've got their own closet full of skeletons. Some of those skeletons might even be sitting in their foyer when no guests are over. But somehow their way is to make everything seem perfect so they can feel okay. Fine. Who am I to judge? Some people wear false eye lashes, some people dye their hair, some people get botox. Most people do a little something to trick the eye, to lead you away from reality, because reality is more than they can bare a hundred percent of the time. It's all good. We're just human after all.
Except Edward, he's a vampire. He is perfect. Fo shizzle.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Land of the Misfit Toys

"A single idea can transform a life, a business, a nation, a world."
Dan Zadra

I love this quote. Well this weekend a single idea didn't quite transform the world but it did transform my upstairs hallway. Let me lay this out. I have done nothing to the hallway. I've tried things here and there but nothing as ever really come of it. There is a really nice set of pictures hung up on one wall. Just hanging there though. I hung them a long time ago and then I lost interest. The waxing and waning of my ADD. So a couple days ago Saige wanted to move her bed against the wall. We had to move a little night table out of the way. I stuck it in the hallway right under those pictures. Now it was way to small but it suddenly occured to me, "Why don't I have a table under there?" The wheels started spinning. Before I knew it I was dragging things from all over my house. I had the can of paint out that my office is painted in. It became a full fledged project.

Yesterday on the most gorgeous day of the year I was inside painting and arranging. I painted and then repainted the cabinet the angel is sitting on. It has been around forever and been more colors and designs than you can imagine. Now it's just black, with some turquoise shelves. Today my friend Ashley (who just moved home after 13 years) came over. She saw my project underway and jumped right in. This is one of her very favorite things to do. I wish I had "before" pictures, but all you have to do is imagine cream walls. Just cream. This is the after.

Everything in here is stuff I had that just didn't have a good home or wasn't put out. Except the angel. I love that angel. I have collected angels for as long as I can remember. For a long time I didn't even know I collected them. I just really gathered them. Anyway the angel had a very prominent home downstairs but I like her right outside our bedrooms.

Now I've moved onto the downstairs foyer. It's all getting changed. I did take a before picture of that.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

The Other Side of the Pond Rocks It

So the Grammy's are on. Yay. Fun. Makes me so happy. What a day, first Ashie is coming home, then it's pushing 60 degrees in February and now the Grammys.
These are the reason I love the show tonight
1. (I'm sorry BA) Kid Rock did a little medley. Hey guess what? Friday night I'm going to see Kid, yay to that too.
2. Chris Martin's fun little outfit with the half shirt. And did anyone else notice he did virasana during his song?
3. I am just loving how Duffy went from her English accent to a bizarre southern sounding Bridge Over Troubled Water. Odd.
4. Song of the Year- some really fun choices, I wouldn't have picked The Coldplay one myself (wait, is it not MY choice?) but we got to see their costumes again. When they were all standing together they kind of reminded me of that kids band that sings those bizarre songs. They had four jackets, similar, but different colors. Interesting.
5.I love that Rober Plant still has the 80's rock star hair. Good for him. I love that Alison Krauss too. She's awesome.
6. Are all the Grammy winners English? Are the English better singers?
7. How 'bout that Jennifer Hudson? She is a force right? Usually what she sings wouldn't make my particular playlists but I love listening to her in person. And I also love anytime there is a choir with a singer. I'm serious. I love a choir as the background. "You pulled me through. When I was drowning." I'm totally downloading that now. She rocked.
8. Wait, wait, wait, wait, are the Jonas Brothers really singing with Stevie Wonder? No comment. I have an 11 year old daughter, I don't want to get in trouble. Stevie get's paid for this right?
9. That Craig Ferguson is funny. He gave Screech a shout out. Did anyone see Screech on Celebrity Fit Club, what a jerk. Anyway Craig was quite amusing and he introduced Kate in that kooky fruit outfit.

10. M.I.A.!! Holy pregnant odd outfit! That was totally worth the price of admission.

Did the Grammy's jump the shark? I'm not sure.
Okay, they brought in Paul to reel it back in.
I'm gonna give it a thumbs up.
How cool is Radiohead and how cool do you those kids in the marching band felt? Seriously, that is something to remember.

Crazy's About to Get a Little Crazier

Oh yes it is my friends. I'm going to tell you why.
Ashley's coming home. My childhood friend. She moved about 12 years ago to South Carolina. She went with a boyfriend, broke up with him, got married, got divorced, worked 150 jobs, rescued animals, and made friends. Now, after all that time she's coming home. She just passed South of the Border.

There's nothing like old friends. I really believe people come in and out of your life for a reason. Every single one of them. Sometimes it's really hard to understand that reason at the time. You gotta think long and hard to "get it." Many, you have to let in to learn that lesson and then when it's time, you need to let them drift out again. It can be hard and sad and confusing. So that's why, when you have people that you have known forever and a day. When you have had your rough times with them and your great times and your distant times and your close times and they are still there after years and years, to me, there is comfort in that. Comfort and so much happiness.

I have run the gamut with Ashley and I'm going to tell you something, she's crazier than me. WAY crazier. She won't even care that I wrote that. That is one of the many beautiful things about her. She owns who she is. Very real. Crazy, but real.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Program

Okay, back to the Oprah list. Today's quote is an age old fact:

being a mother is the hardest job on earth. women everywhere must declare it so.

So this isn't news, right? We (all us Mothers) know this. People who aren't or don't have kids yet so don't get it. They have no idea. No idea that from the moment that child decides to join us in the world, a day doesn't go by that there is not worry or guilt or the overwhelming need to protect them from all the ugliness of the world. And when we realize we can't, there is more worry and more guilt. Toss in there physical exhaustion when they are little and mental exhaustion as they grow. It's amazingly rewarding and something I wouldn't trade for the world, but God damn, it's not easy.

There are a million lovely, easy moments. Moments where you look at them and you can't believe these little people are yours. At least I feel that way. I look at my kids, who are both gaining on me in height and I wonder, how'd they get here? They are almost ten and eleven. Their baby hood seems a life time away. Is baby hood a word? What's that called? The other day I was trying to describe something to my friend Sue, I was talking about people in prison, "What are they called, jail people, you know, the ones in prison.?" "Prisoners?" she said. Sometimes I forget words. Sometimes I forget the date, sometimes I forget appointments, sometimes I forget things people told me, sometimes I forget to make dinner. I blame it on kids. I don't really thing it's their fault, but it seems fair.

Okay, my kids were at a relatively easy stage not to long ago, I think that's passed. My daughter is 11 and is always on the phone, always has a friend over or is with a friend, she wears my clothes, puts on make-up, has boys calling our house and is only about two inches shorter than I am. She will not take no for an answer. She will push me until she gets me to cave. If I somehow stand my ground, (which I have been doing better at lately) she will hound me through all that technology can offer. She will txt me, e mail me and leave my messages on my phone. She will do great in life. At times, I wish she'd just let up on me a little.

Then my son. He has always been the easiest, most polite, kindest little angel I have ever known. This year he has turned a corner. He doesn't do his homework, he tries to make people laugh and gets in trouble, he can be extremely lazy, he doesn't care for the word no either. Tonight he did make ME laugh though. It went like this: (you must first know his tv privlidges have been REVOKED, that stemmed from me having to spend 45 minutes on the phone with his teacher telling me he doesn't do his work.) So now he gets to read himself to sleep. He has been doing awesome. He doesn't really complain. Tonight though, very nonchalantley he says to me, "Hey Mom, am I allowed to watch the weather channel?"
Seriously, The Weather Channel.
It's come to that for him.
I said, "No."
Score one for me. Three hundred and twenty three thousand THEM, one for me.
Small victories.

Thanks Mom and Dad. I love you.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Snowing with Asude

So this is how it went down: Going to bed last night watching the snow fall and fall and fall. Just knowing I wasn't going to be teaching yoga today. Keep my laptop by my bed so I can check school closings. 5:15 am, they're going in 2 hours late. 7am, school is closed for the day. I see my phone blinking, txt from Asude, Jade is off school too. I call. "Hey, wanna take the kids skiing?" She sounds a little sleepy. She asks Jade. Jade is down with the plan. "Be ready in 1 1/2," I say. I get it together over here and we throw all our gear in the car and off we go.

We are we going? I don't know. I 'm following the nav. It seems to be taking us an odd way. Sue assures me it's fine, we are heading North. "How do you know this?" I am perplexed. I knew Sue was smart, but she knows what direction we are heading at any given time? This could somehow be useful. "My nose always points North," she tell me. I mull this over. Is that why sometimes she faces away when she is speaking to me? Then she points to my rearview mirror and lo and behold there is a little N on it. Her nose might now know, but my car sure does.

We get to the mountain. This is the first time ever I am snowboarding. I haven't stepped foot on a mountain full of snow for a few years. The main reason being, I don't particularly like snow. I think it's stupid. This year is different. My kids are snowboarding and skiing. I can't just sit around and look pretty. Well, I could, but that would get old after a while. Maybe...

I get Chase and I a lesson with a snowboard guy. He teaches us like two things, which I do not master and then he wants us to go up the mountain. Um. No. I can't turn or stop Brian. Take my kid and go. I'll practice here. And practice I do. I cart myself up to the first rung of the fence where the elevator for the baby hill starts and I practice turning. I try to go a little farther every time. But I don't. I can't stop, I find myself saying, "Hey watch out." And secretly being annoyed that others are in my way. Sue comes over. "Watch me. Watch me," I say. Really proud of myself for snowboarding 6 feet and hurling silent obscenities at small children in my way. Sue claps, dutifully, then goes on her way.

Meanwhile my nine year old is beating the instructor down the hill. Of course, he isn't great at stopping either, but he doesn't seem to care. I was proud of him.

Saige was already going up the big chairlift with Jade. Kids have no fear. That was my favorite part of the day. Seeing them rock it out.

Then my second favorite part was sitting in the lodge by the fire drinking a glass of wine and running into people I have known from all over the place. Old hairdresser, work guy with Marc, school parent (but a cool one), old college friend. Sue. It was fun, baby. Snow's not as bad as I thought.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

A Fairytale or A Fable?

Once upon a time in a land called the '70's there lived a little girl. She lived in a pretty house with a stone front and a sun porch. In the house lived her Mother, her Father, her beautiful older sister and her aloof older brother. The little girl only wanted one thing. She wanted her very own fish.
She asked her Mother, "No!" her Mother said.
She asked her Father, "Ask your Mother," he said absently.
Her sister just ignored her. Her brother told her to just go get them.
The little girl had a friend down the way who had all sorts of great animals. The regular ones like cats and dogs, but she also had some more interesting creatures, like snakes, guinea pigs, and a skunk.
The little girl wanted fish in the worst way. She pleaded with her Mother.
"Fine," thought the little girl. "I will."

So she and her friend with many animals went to the pet store and picked out some aquatic beauties. The little girl got glorious rainbow fish and a translucent angel fish.
Her friend chose eels.

The little girl took care of her fish and fed them and cared for them and cleaned their tank. She never had to ask her Mother for any help whatsoever.

Then one day the little girl's friend was going on holiday. She asked the little girl to care for her eels. "O.k." she said, somewhat terrified. But she was a good friend. She took the eels into her home like they were her own. She put them in the tank with her fish.

The first day her visitors arrived she carefully put some fish food in the tank and trotted off to school. After school she ran up the stairs to check on her fish and the eel and her beautiful angel fish was missing. The eel looked smug.
The second day she left for school with a slight bit of trepidation, but having no other recourse, she went on her way. At 3.30 she came home to find one of her rainbow fish was gone too. Now the eel just looked fat.

The little girl did not know what to do. She couldn't ask her Mother, that was forbidden. She went downstairs and found her Father in the den watching Planet of the Apes, smoking a cigarette and drinking some Genesse Cream Ale.
"Dad?" she said.
Her father glanced up at her questioningly.
"Yes, it's just..." her litttle voice trailed off. "Well, I put my friends eels in the tank and now some of my fish are missing."

With that her Father stood up out of his wing chair. He didn't say a word to her. He just started walking. She followed him down the hall and up the stairs and into her room. He picked up her fish net, scooped up the eels, walked in the hall bath and flushed them down the toilet. Then he handed her the net and went back to his beer and his apes.

Shortly thereafter the little girl's friend came home from vacation. She ran over to her house to get her precious eels. The little girl had to explain what happened. She told the truth. The little girl's friend was very angry.
She exclaimed, "You better watch out! One days those eels are going to come up from your pipe's and bite you on the ass." then she turned on her heel and marched home. The little girl just stared down at the toilet in fear.

And the little girl has had Irritable bowel Syndrome since that day.

The End

Monday, February 2, 2009

I Pose This Question to You

Do you have a favorite book? A book you could read over and over again? A book you missed when it was done? I do. I could try and act somewhat intelligent and tell you my favorite book is The Count of Monte Cristo. I did love that book. It is one of the very few things I remember actually learning in High School (not counting how to forge my mom's name on notes for being late, sorry Mom, let's not speak of this.)
If I was in a humorous mood there are two contenders that I can think of off the top of my head. One being, "Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress," this was one of those books that made me just love the author. I l adore funny books that are true. Which brings me to choice number two, "Me Talk Pretty One Day." I'm sorry, if you can't laugh at David Sedaris telling the story of that time he was in the bathroom at a dinner party and had an issue in there, we just can't be friends. Click out now. You have no use for me.

As I could list book after book that I have loved. There is one that as I was reading it, as much as I couldn't put it down, I didn't want it to be over. I got nervous knowing I was getting near the end. I loved the characters in it. I bought it for my Mom, I gushed over it. Then I got really nervous, she is really smart and used to be an English Professor, I was thinking I oversold. When she told me she loved it to, I was so relieved. Let me tell you. I don't know why I enjoyed this book so much. I guess there was just something in it that spoke to me.

But now, here is my real issue. They have made a movie out of it. This could go one of two ways. It could go the way of Harry Potter for me, where the movie was beautifully done (to me) and it gave me specific faces to match to characters, wonderful details, fantasy becomes reality for those 2+ hours. OR, it could go the way of two books to movies that I loved the books and in the words of my high school facebook friend the movies "made me want to chunk in my mouth." The DaVinci Code and Twilight. Both just debacle's. Painful. Gut to the stomach.
What to do? Now, mind you, there is no release date. I feel I should prepare myself, do I (A) throw caution to the wind, keep my fingers crossed and pray they don't soil my favorite book or (B) just be happy with the book. Don't even watch the trailer. What would you do?

Ah yes, "The Time Travelers Wife."

Hey, Jen, do you like I used the word soil?

Sunday, February 1, 2009

The Lotus

“And even if roses could be blue, only the lotus is free to float on the waters of the pond. And in the reflections of the water it can take on any color imaginable. And therefore shall the lotus be my flower of preference.”

This is a quote written by Bart (I don't know his last name) he is a Belgium film maker and a very dear friend of my friend Elizabeth. She sent it to me last night. I read it during of period of not sleeping at about 4 am. I think I'm in love with it.

Between that and a 6 hour yoga class yesterday with Sue it got me thinking about the lotus and the meaning of it.
You see the lotus symbol all the time in Yoga studios, on yoga clothes and all over the place. The lotus is not a religious symbol just as yoga is not a religion or based on any religion. Yoga is in religion. Religion is not in yoga. I just thought I would clarify that, is a common mistake people make. I actually had a really good friend once who wouldn't go to a yoga class because of her religion. It seemed odd to me, because yoga is union. To bring together parts of yourself that were really never separate.

There is no deity to worship in yoga. There isn't a clergy. There aren't any churches or places of worship. It's just yoga. There are so many things related to it. There are a million schools of thought, beliefs, practices. It is so personal and yet when you know someone else who is into it, there is a piece of you that totally understands them. It's probably how surfers just seem to "get" each other.

Anyway, although it is not a religion, I think the thing about it is, how connected you can feel with certain aspects of it. Certain belief systems that stem from the practice. To breathe is the most fundamental part of yoga. To be aware, to be present, to not judge, to be kind to yourself and others, to have compassion, the list goes on and on.

Today I connected with the lotus. Thought I'd share it with you. I mean, it is Sunday. (I'm winking at ya there.)

The lotus flower is one of the most ancient and deepest symbols of our planet.
The lotus flower grows in muddy water and rises above the surface to bloom with remarkable beauty. At night the flower closes and sinks underwater, at dawn it rises and opens again. Untouched by the impurity, lotus symbolizes the purity of heart and mind. The lotus flower represents long life, health, honor and good luck.

"We were talking - about the space between us all and the people -
Who hide themselves behind a wall of illusion never glimpsing the truth
Then it's far too late when they pass away.

We were talking - about the love we all could share
When we find it - to try our best to hold it there - with our love
With our love we could save the world - if they only knew

Try to realize it's all within yourself - no-one else can make you change
And to see you're really only very small
And life flows on within you and without you.

We were talking - about the love that's gone so cold
And the people who gain the world and lose their soul
They don't know, they can't see - are you one of them?

When you've seen beyond yourself
Then you may find peace of mind is waiting there
And the time will come when you see we are all one
And life flows on within you and without you."

Lotus flower: Symbol of Spiritual Unfoldment
By Swami Kriyananda