Just Rambling...

Yesterday was nearly a perfect day. I woke up in time to actually make breakfast, have free coffee at home, shower and get off to work. I'm not a morning person. I go to work at 10am. So, when I have to get up early, I am reminded of how much can actually get accomplished in the tender hours of the morning. Still, I prefer to only see them on occasion. Wouldn't want them to lose their charm.

My self-talk surprised me pleasantly as I was getting out of the shower. "Don't forget your vitamin, Beautiful Lady," I say to myself. That shocked me. I can't explain why, but it was a pleasant shock. I wish I could download my self-talk and analyze it. Most of the time I don't think I really notice it, or pay much attention, but this caught my attention. It was a cute little shot in the arm. Reminds me of the comedian who insists that, "They call it self-esteem for a reason!"

Work went fine. I got a copy of some papers that were particularly exciting. It feels so amazing to be making progress in the right direction. I did some more research into law schools. I spent all day Thursday in a training for preparing T-visa petitions for victims of human trafficking. I am extremely attracted to this area of law. It's in the hopper with all of the other things I want to do when I grow up, but I actually think immigration law, with some degree of practice devoted to human rights/women's rights contexts would be a pretty efficient amalgamation of my disparate skills. Who knows? First step, freedom. And it's on the horizon.

After work I went out to dinner and salsa dancing with my prima and a few of her friends. It was so much fun. I hate going dancing when I don't have interested friends going with me. But when everyone's into it, it's so much fun. Let me pause here and make a cultural observation. I prefer going out with foreign men. They are such gentleman and though many women may be offended by this, I like they fact that they buy all of your drinks and those of the women you're with. I've encountered this many times now and I like it. I like going out dancing with my girlfriends and have a guy assume that if he buys one of us a drink, he buys for all of us. I don't feel entitled to this, but I appreciate it. It's why I like the salsa scene so much. Such diversity. Last night I danced with a German, an Italian, a Mexican, a West Virginian, and the rest--I don't know. Have I mentioned before that I love meeting different people? LOL.

One question? Why do people go to salsa clubs if they don't want to dance, or even learn? They take up space and get stepped on. I stepped on one gawker's ankle last night. He later told me that he'd had surgery in that exact spot. I apologized profusely, as I had done when it occurred. He then informed me that he was going to sue me. I smiled and nodded and rubbed his shoulder while saying, "OK, you do that," in the most patronizing manner I could muster. Asshole. Dance! That way you're not a sitting duck to get stepped on. Much harder to hit a moving target.

And, I'm getting old. I'm starting to appreciate the first shift of the dancers, you know, the ones who get in before they start charging a cover. I guess we got to the club at about 9 or so, and by the time they were charging a cover and there was no room to turn around, I had successfully sweat out my hair and the waistband of my pants and was ready to go. Somehow I still didn't get to bed until 2:30am. That's about the same time I woke up this afternoon, 2:30. I love the weekend.

I fail to understand why people cram their weekends full of activities. I've done all the running around I plan to do by Friday night. I might do a little shopping (groceries and such), but a day full of must-dos is a no-no for me on the weekend. Sleep is an under-appreciated pastime. I'm actually waiting for my new living room TV to be delivered, so I can put the one I currently have in the living room in my bedroom where it belongs. That way I can watch FoodTV from the comforts of my bed all weekend if I want. I really want to make my bedroom more of a sanctuary, but I don't have the money at the moment to make it more than a clean comfortable place to rest. In time. In time.

And the last randomness for today, I've been picking out artwork for my apartment. My place is extremely colorful (I'll take pics and upload them later on). But I want to go with black and white photography on the walls for balance. Again, I have no money, so I'm stuck with framing my buys from allposters.com.

Here's some of what's in my shopping cart. Eventually I'll figure out how to pay for it all when I click "checkout".

Helloooooooooo?????? UPDATED, AGAIN

Is it me or has Blogger been smoking crack for the last 24 hours???

Where the hell's my BlogRoll???
________________________________
UPDATE: Now it's back. My apologies, Mr. Barry.

Related Anecdote: The last time I saw Marion Barry in person I was stopped at a light on Georgia Avenue in DC. He crossed directly in front of my car and immediately turned around, crossed again to go back to get something out of the trunk of his car. When he crossed the third time I could see that he had a urine specimen cup in his hand. Upon further investigation (read: turning head to the right) I noticed that he was going into someplace called Something Something Laboratories. Pee Test! It was hilarious! Now that would have been a secret squirrel photo worth taking.

I love you, love you, love you -- Only if you let me, let me, let me

All this secrets stuff is bringing memories out of the woodwork. Andy's mention of a cassette tape in his secrets meme made me think of an old boyfriend who once made a tape for me when I was 14.

I'll just call him K.C. so that I don't wreck his M.C. career. Below are the lyrics of a rap he recorded for me. He was a DJ, so the recording was pretty sophisticated, mixed with background vocals and everything--all from the comforts of his bedroom studio, on a ZZ Top tape that he over-dubbed by taping the holes on the top of the cassette.

Let me give you some background. I must have written him a letter or something telling him off and referencing Deniece Williams' song, Silly:

Silly Of me to think that I could ever have you for my guy
How I love you... how I want you...
Silly of me to think that you could ever really want me too
How I love you...

Chorus:

You're just a lover out to score
I know that I should be looking for more
What could it be in you I see
What could it be...

Oh, Love, oh, love, stop making a fool of me
Oh, Love, oh, love, stop making a fool of me

This was his response. He alludes to the song in his text. I need you to hear a moderate laid back beat, reminiscient of a cool stroll as you read this:

Sittin’ here in my room, thinking of the time

I would hold you in my arms when you were mine

The memory is a happy one, it makes me smile

I think about you every day, not once in a while

You seem to think I was cheatin’ on you all of the time

But little did you know that you were all mine

No Alexis, I’m not a lover out to score

And I’ve never met anyone like you before

You do seem to think I love you

But really I do

Girl, it wasn’t silly of you

Because…

Chorus

I love you, love you, love you

Only if you let me, let me, let me

I love you, love you, love you

Try not to forget me, -get me, -get me

Oh, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy. This cracks me up everytime I sing it. I wonder what he's doing now?

Jesus! Did I mention I was 14?

This is why I don't have children!

One More Secret

OK. I was thinking about this all night, so I must add it to my list of secrets: I am vulgar. Not even “vulgar for a girl”, just plain vulgar. I have a potty mouth, and that’s no big surprise to many, but most people don’t know the extent of my vulgarity, as I choose to protect them from the shock of, “OMG the ex-preacher's wife says stuff like that!”

There are a select few who have had the pleasure of Lexi unrestrained, but I try to reel it in as much as possible in most cases. I am not always successful. I crack myself up constantly as I self-edit my thoughts for a better alternative that might be at least reasonably appropriate in a social setting. I try even harder when kids are around. In such settings, do NOT ask me what I’m laughing at. I guarantee you don’t want to know. It’s probably a bad sign that I find myself absolutely hilarious and am not looking to change this in the least.

Here’s an example. No explicit language. Fear not.

A couple of weeks ago my brakes started making a God-awful screeching sound, again. I called my mechanic hook-up (translation: mechanic who does work for me and gets paid in cash at a discounted price under his boss's nose…or just does the work at his house) to find out what was wrong. I took the car to him. His reaction: Oh MAN! I really needed him not to be that appalled. He told me he couldn’t look at it at work that day, but to bring it to his house after work. I did.

My dad lives in the subdivision next to the mechanic, so I asked him to come bring me cash so that I could at least tip the guy. When dad got there, I leaned in his car window and said:

Yeah dad, I don’t think he’s going to charge me anything, but if he does, I’ll have to offer to blow him. That’s all I’ve got!!

My father closes his eyes, shakes his head (shocked, but not really) and says, “Well, let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that!”

It was sooo much fun saying “blow him” to Daddy!

So, you see what I mean?

I was Tagged: Secrets Meme

I was tagged by Andy for this "Secrets" meme. I'm supposed to reveal 10 secrets about myself and then tag 2 other bloggers.

Without further ado...

1. I hated bathing when I was about 9 or 10. So, at bath time I would run a bath and sit on the side of the tub fully clothed and swish my washcloth back and forth to make it sound convincing. Then, I'd take my clothes off, wrap up in my towel and go to my bedroom to put on fresh, clean jammies. This happened every night. I may have acutally bathed once a week.

2. Heartissanfrancisco shared the "peeing like a boy" secret. I did this too, but it doesn't count since I'm copying. So, I'll share another peeing secret. The first time I decided to shave my nether regions completely bald, I had no clue the effects this would have on public bathroom use. The first time I tried to pee hairless while hovering over a public toilet pee went everywhere, down my legs, all over the toilet seat and soaked the back of the waistband of my pants. I was laughing so hard I couldn't stop, so I had to just sit on the toilet to finish since I couldn't stop the flow. I did my best to dry off and absorb the pee from my pants, but I had to walk around Miss Pissy Pants for the rest of the day.

3. I got caught in the process of convincing Ex (then boyfriend) to go skinny-dipping. We were parked on the side of a road near a pier. We went to sit on the rocks and I convinced him that we should skinny dip. We got our shoes off and he was going for his pants when a police car pulled up shining his flashlight in our faces. He warned us that the "park" closed at sundown and that we should go. I thought it was hilarious. He was scared to death and we spent the rest of the ride home deciding who we would have called to bail us out of jail if we'd been arrested. We decided on my parents. They would have thought it was funny.

3.1 There are some things about him I actually miss, but they are few.

4. I was brought home in a police car for skipping out on a summer enrichment program when I was 12.

5. I received an underserved A for a class I took in graduate school. I never wrote the paper upon which said grade was based. The professor agreed to not give me an incomplete as long as I faxed him the paper when I finished it. Well...he went back to Mexico, I've been otherwise preoccupied with life...and I still haven't done it. This was in 2003.

6. I have a very hard time sticking with things. I've tried to master the piano, guitar, bowling, roller skating, tennis, belly dancing, bodybuilding, German, Korean, even anorexia. I get distracted by the next thing to come along. Salsa dancing is the one thing I've stuck with the longest. The longest I've stayed at one job is 2 years and that's because I was under contract. I'm told it's typical of a Gemini.

7. I hope I never grow up to the point of taking life too seriously.

8. I am very spoiled by both of my parents. That's no secret to those who know me, but I am 33 and have never seen my cell phone bill. I've been on the same cell phone plan with mom and dad since 1991.

9. My weekly allowance started at $20/week. By the time I left home (when I married) it was up to $120/week. Yes, I had a full-time job. Yes, I was 25. Yes, I know this is pathetic. And, yes, you would have taken it too if offered!!

10. I used to think "trifling" was pronounced "triflent", and I used to call people triflent. I was 12!!

Bonus: I only floss about twice every two weeks. That's about how long it takes for me to realize that once again, I haven't stuck with something I set out to do and start over. It fizzles out again after a couple of days and in two weeks I'm back to feverishly making up for lost time for two more days and then...

OK. That's it.

I tag Gela and ~Macarena~.

Happy Friday! Happy Autumn!

Did anybody else just wake up and realize that it is the END of September? Where'd the month go?

I am so sleepy today. I hate drinking coffee because I need to. I don't enjoy it as much. I'm sitting here waiting for it to kick in...so far, nothing.

It's Friday and it's fall, so that means that I need to come up with something particularly comforting for dinner tonight. I really am feeling like shrimp and grits. What???? Don't knock it 'til you try it.

Happy Friday! Happy Autumn!

Survivor Cook Islands: Episode 2

Two words for the Immunity Challenge: Affirmative Action!!

Ok, I can't take credit for that one. That one belongs to Kevin. But I nearly died when he said it. It was almost the best laugh of the night...but Billy. Billy. Billy. Billy.

I was invited to watch the show with a bunch of folks who are going to get together weekly for the festivities. Tonight, there was TiVo. All hail TiVo! You can't possibly appreciate Billy until you've watched Jeff's reaction over and over and over again, and then watched the faces of his teammates over and over and over again as he single-handedly slit his own throat by professing his love for Candace. Candace from Raro who never professed love for him, but pittied him with a, "WE love you," when he told her he'd be next voted off. Oh, Billy. Thanks for the laughs. You'll go down in history, dude. Yes, with Rudolph.

OK. On to my reflections...

I think that confirming stereotypes is part of the novelty of the show that I hope wears off soon. I notice the tribe members struggling with this themselves, like Cao Boi and his Asain jokes, and the guy from Aitu who said that hard work was "in our blood". All stereotypes aren't negative. I wouldn't mind people assuming that I would make a great employee because I'm a hard worker, I don't think. I would mind someone assuming that all I can do is work hard. Billy debunked that one though. Thanks, Billy. I'm gonna miss Billy.

I knew Yul from Puka was going to find the immunity idol on Exile Island. Why? Stereotype. I assumed he was brilliant and I was right. Does that make the stereotype any more acceptable? Doubt it.

I loved Billy's comment that metal was his culture and not "hispanic". I believe we wrongly assume people's culture based on how they look. But culture is very complex. In a cultural competency training once, we were asked to define our culture. I was amazed when a woman identified her culture as "female". We really do identify ourselves in different ways and value parts of ourselves in ways others may never know by just looking at us. I identify as black, female, heterosexual, middle class, American, college graduate, and bilingual (at the very least). Each really is a culture all its own and when you start combining the aspects of my identity, the uniqueness deepens. And yet I still make snap judgements about people based on one factor. So much to learn.

I was mortified by Hiki celebrating not losing the immunity challenge. Mortified. They can't lose every challenge (and yes, for me this one was an L). That would just be too demoralizing. I don't even know what to do with these feelings. It's only week 2. Maybe things will turn around. (Insert emoticon with mouth twisted and eyebrow raised as if to say, "yeah, right!") For those who don't watch the show...Aitu intentionally threw the challenge. Hiki would have lost miserably. They had no clue that Aitu threw it.l

And, here's my worst one this week: When you're depending on the vote of women in your tribe to stay in the game, you don't profess your love for a white woman (read: iconic ideal). It's suicide. You will be castrated.

I continue to hate Johnathan of Raro. (I need to distinguish him now from Johnathan of my comments on the last post who I also hate.) But it's him. He's a jerk. And I hate Ozzy of Aitu. I'm sure I would have hated Sekou had he stuck around another week. Yes, I do realize they are all men. Thanks for noticing. Maybe if the guys would shut up for a minute I might get a chance to know the girls better and decide which of them gets on my last nerve as well.

OK. I wanna hear your thoughts. And, from now on I'll try to get this done on Thursdays so that I can return to my regular non-racially charged, non- Survivor blogging.

Oh, and my Survivor group has decided to have the cuisine of the losing team from the previous week for dinner each time. Tonight we had fried chicken, potato salad and watermelon. Next week, I'm bringing plantains and black beans....or something. Maybe that's stereotyping too, but I love good food!!!


Disclaimer: Hate is a very strong word. It is probably an overstatement in all places it was used in this post, except when in reference to Johnathan of my comments. Thank you.


Legend: Puka (Asain), Aitu (Latino), Raro (White), Hiki (Black)

Survivor Cook Islands: Episode 1

This is late, I know, but I've been hella busy this past week. I didn't want to do a crappy job and just post manic ramblings, so I waited and here you go, my thoughts on CBS's Survivor Cook Islands, Episode 1.

I learned about this show later than the rest of the civilized world. I was driving in the car listenting to my ever-so-dorky, yet always on, news radio when I heard call-ins from irate viewers in the DC Metro area having hissy fits about the tribes being divided by race. As usual, my initial reaction was contrary to the masses as I wondered what the hell was the big deal.

Shortly thereafter I came across Heartinsanfrancisco's post on the subject. Go read her post and the related comments in their entirety. I'll post a section here for background for my thoughts on this episode.

Lex said...

I know I'm chiming in late, but I've been 4 days with no internet access...

When I first heard about the show (I love Survivor, btw) I was not as disgusted as many people are. I think this kind of grouping makes people (Americans in particular) uncomfortable, and I think that's what it's intended to do. I don't think it's a glorification of divisivenss or anything of the sort. I do think a by-product of the show is that it will call our attention to our prejudices and sterotypes (much like the movie Crash).

Nobody gets up in arms when TV does the battle of the sexes. Why are we so up in arms about this?

I'm one who likes to engage the culture in heated discussions about realities we want to ignore and pretend aren't there. I think this show will do this and I plan to watch and engage in the discussion.

Thanks for this post, Hearts.

9:22 PM

heartinsanfrancisco said...

I love discussion, and your view is provocative, Lex. Admittedly, I have a knee-jerk reaction against anything that seems to encourage prejudice of any kind. IF the show is able to call attention to such attitudes without exascerbating them, it could be a force for good.

Perhaps I'm cynical, but I doubt the producers are intent on mending society's worst evil, although if they are, calling attention to it would be the logical first step. And you make a good point that pretending it doesn't exist is not a solution.

Am I going to have to watch it now out of curiosity, just when I was counting on you and Kwesi to report in so I wouldn't have to?

You're new here, so welcome! Thanks for the visit.

10:09 PM

Lex said...

I have a aversion to people, producers or anyone else who wants to fix it, whatever it may be.

The culture certainly will not be fixed by this show, but it won't be fixed by burying our heads in the sand and trying to forget history and not-so-history. I don't know what the intention of the show is. I just know that it is an opportunity for great discussion.

Discussion breeds self-examination. It's only when we examine our own faults, and not another's, that real change occurs. The culture changes as individuals challenge themselves to confront the evils of their own hearts and do something about it.

I'm glad to be here!

11:16 PM

heartinsanfrancisco said...

Wow! Your remark about examining our own faults as the means to change society is excellent. Focusing on those of others, as most of us do constantly, does indeed distract us from addressing our own.

If the show's intent is to instigate confrontation with others and with ourselves, they must be succeeding because here we all are discussing it, and the season hasn't even begun yet.

I AM going to have to watch it, arent I? Just when I was busy making other plans...

---

So, with that said, I'm not upset about the show. I don't care that most people are. I think it's another opportunity for us to take our heads out of the sand and examine, get this and get this clearly, our own shit where race is concerned. I think it's an absolute waste of time and energy to sit on our collective tails and point the finger at another's prejudice, racism, ignorance, assumptions and the like. I can't do a thing about anybody who hates me because I'm black, or female, or 33. I can do something about the assumptions I make about the 56 year old, white, obese smoker (woman) with 13 cats that may walk into my office, and it is from that perspective that I'm going to approach my commentary on Survivor Cook Islands from here on out.

I realized while watching Episode 1 that if I'm going to participate at all in this discussion, it must be from the posture of examining what the show exposes in me. I know this is risky, and I cringe as I anticipate what I am about to type, but it's honest. I watched the show with pen in hand and wrote down every racist, sterotypical, malicious, hateful, ignorant comment that came to my mind. I've posted them here, just below, hopefully not to be castrated by my readers, but to be transparent and to be willing to"confront the evils of [my own heart] and [hopefully] do something about it."

First, some terminology. The tribes: Puka (Asain), Aitu (Latino), Raro (White), Hiki (Black).

At the very beginning, the castaways are allowed to collect items from the ship to take with them to the island. Yul from Puka grabs a chicken. Johnathan from Raro steals the chicken from him and denies it when later confronted about it.

Lexi: Yep, of course the white man stole the chicken! Always taking something and claiming it as his own, then lying about it (re-writing history). Surprise, surprise.

Later, Cao Boi of Puka, a Vietnamese refugee is talking about how he feels like an outcast even among his fellow tribe members, as they were all born in America. He remembers the "old country" and he believes that distinguishes him negatively from his group. As they show his name, they also include his profession--nail salon manager.

Lexi: The Vietnamese guy's a nail salon manager. Classic!

When the Hiki tribe makes it to camp, they share their thoughts about being divided by race and break into a chant of, "Represent! Represent! Represent!"

Lexi: Oh my God! Listen to how ignorant they sound. Why Lord? Why?

Later, in the immunity challenge, Puka and Aitu come in first and second with Hiki bringing up the rear.

Lexi: Work ethic won the immunity challenge, plain and simple.

When Hiki had to make a decision about who to send to exile from the other team, the two men separated themselves from the 3 women, made the decision and the women agreed.

When Hiki had to make a decision to send a member home, Sekou made comments about the women thinking they can do this without the men.

Lexi: This is not a social experiment. It's social commentary. The black community is so divided by gender. The common themes are all here: struggle for power/control, emasculation, critcizing the black woman for her strength. This is going to make me vomit.

So, there you have it. These are my initial reactions, but before I cut you loose to verbally flog me, let me first add my own reflections on my embarassing gut reactions.

I noticed that I am the hardest on my own people. I've mentioned in previous posts that I struggle with trying to understand what self-hatred is and is not. I had a long conversation about this with a friend who is infinitely more afro-centric than I may ever be. He helped me to realize that things that upset me about members of my own culture may not stem from self-hatred so much as from anger and disappointment, as a parent would feel for a child who should know better, and who can do better than they may be doing at the time of said disappointment. I will be trying to sort this out as the show continues.

I have no doubt that I'll be criticized by my community for doing this in front of others. But, hey, it's my blog and my struggle. I'll do it the way I want.

Most of my other reactions stemmed from stereotypes. I'm glad to see that I've bought into them as much as anyone else, so now I can work on learning other things about these cultures to replace the stupid stereotypes.

My reaction to Johnathan stealing the chicken surprised me. This is the kind of comment I would sit back and criticize others for making. Seems like I've got a lot of work to do to uncover where this one came from and why I've been so blind to it in myself.

OK, your turn.
.

Back in the Classroom

I love to teach! I haven't taught a class in almost two years and I just realized how much I've missed it. Well, correction, I do trainings weekly for work. That's teaching too, and I enjoy it. But these classes are something extra special.

Tonight I started an ESL Reading and Writing course at a local university. I can't tell you the thrill I get from the first day of class. I love the look on my students' faces when I address each of them by name as the leave on the first day. It's my way of connecting with them. I don't care what they learn in the first class, but I must learn their names.

I hope they learn English, since that's what they're paying for, but I always anticipate what I'll learn from them. This semester my students are from Chad, Slovenia, El Salvador, Brazil, Haiti, and Central African Republic. I'm so excited to get to know them and to learn about their countries and cultures. I've gotten the most amazing education from my students. If a classroom resembling the UN is not the consummate marketplace of ideas, I don't know what is. Oral debates are the best. I can't wait. Too bad the class only lasts 6 weeks.

Useless Blog-blocker

You know, I originally wanted my URL to be the same as the title of my blog, but onsecondthought.blogspot.com was already taken. Tonight is actually the first time I've bothered to see who is blocking. What is THIS?

Cheers to Toasting!!!

I'm in the mood to toast something tonight. There's nothing special to celebrate, I'm just in the mood.

When I toast I always say, "Here's to...". What the hell does that mean? Here's some wine to your new job? Here's where I'm supposed to lift my glass and say something meaningful to honor your marriage? Here's where I say 'here's to..." because I don't know any other way to make a toast? What's up with that?

So, I thought I should do some research. I got way more information than I wanted, but I did find out that bunches of people say, "here's to..." although it makes so little grammatical sense to me. That was until I came across one that said, "Cheers to Maria!" Well, look a that! What do we have here? How many times does this happen with language? Somebody hears something wrong, repeats it wrong and then the rest of the world starts saying something that's nothing more than a stupid mistake. I wish I could think of an example of what I mean, but they all escape me at the moment. Damn, my ex was notorious for screwing up a saying. We literally used to sit in church and write them down. We had a running list. He'd say stuff like, "on the blink of a dime". What the hell does that mean? What's it supposed to mean? I should post a list, if I can think of them, with a call for interpretations. I used to think he made up jug-handled curve, but I heard someone else say that....oh, oh, here's one: She couldn't hit the broad side of a barnyard. Hello?!?!?!?! Does your barnyard have walls? What was I talking about?

Oh, yes, sayings we've mutilated. Let me know if you think of any. This one is like nails on a chalkboard for me: I could care less. Well, if you could care less about the issue, obviously it is at least of some importance to you...so, what's the point in mentioning it? It's: I couldn't care less, people. Trust. If you don't believe me, plug both of them into a sentence about something that is of absolutely no significance to you and let me know what you get. I think Here's to is supposed to be Cheers to. Now that makes sense. I can sleep easy tonight. I hate sounding like an idiot.

I found a toast that is now my favorite, and I toast all of you lovelies. Do you have favorite, funny, or tear-jerking toasts? I'd love to here them. In the meantime:

To temperance . . . in moderation.
— Lem Motlow

Oh. My favorite toasting superstition is that after toasting (clinking glasses) you must first put your glass down and then drink, otherwise you'll have seven years of bad sex. Listen people. I must have made this mistake somewhere along the line. It would explain so much. Don't chance it. Trust me.

My 100th Post

I lay in bed last night thinking about how I would approach this, my 100th blog post. It's a significant post, don't you think? For one thing, I'm a little shocked that I've stuck with it for this long, and more than a little shocked that people actually read my crap. I really didn't know where it was going when I got started, but I knew I needed an outlet for the things that float around in my head and keep me distracted from other often more important things in life.

I've spent some time over the last month re-reading some of my earlier posts to get a feel for where I've gone with this and I've been surprised to see some places where I've either grown or somehow developed my thoughts on various issues. It's taken some time for me to get comfortable in my own skin here. I started out only moderately concerned about who would read this, grew quite concerned and have settled in with a little more abandon. Evidence of which is noted in my last post. A few months back I added the mention of my divorce to my profile and I'm getting more comfortable talking about the things that have contributed to shaping the person who sits at her computer needing so desperately to give a few things a second thought.

As a teacher I would always tell my students that I needed feedback. I never wanted (and never had) a quiet classroom. I wanted learners to be engaged, to have their own opinions, to disagree with me and with each other. I thrive on the tension that is created in the marketplace of ideas. I've grown refeshingly detatched from the notion there is an answer to every question and that's why I write here. I love the diversity of perspective that each reader brings. Even if I think you're a freakin' moron, I still want to hear what you have to say. Paying attention to my reactions to even the most annoying of comments challenges me to examine yet another part of this 'me' that I'm getting to know. I've even sounded off at a couple of comments that have particularly annoyed me but somehow those are the ones that make their way down the Blogger vortex into oblivion-- so no one has ever read those. Please don't think I'm all that diplomatic. Blogger just shuts me up when it feels like it and it's too annoying to try to remember what I said to try again. You can't "take two" on a rant, you know?

So, while I was eating lunch this afternoon (at a cool non-Starbies cafe with free wireless) I read a comment by Heartinsanfrancisco:

You sound healthy and strong and burning with pure intent. You've been building energy for a long time, and now you will use it to build a new and better life for yourself. You're about to amaze yourself, but the rest of us won't be surprised at what you can do.

It really got me thinking about the significance of an interaction with my boss last week. We had a Spanish-speaking client who needed to sign a retainer agreement. I didn't think she should sign an agreement that she couldn't read and mentioned that it should be translated. My boss assigned me to the task and I did the work, well. In a staff meeting the next day she asked how things were going. My typical answer is well, even if that's not the case, but this time somebody took over my mouth. I told her that I felt swamped by the Spanish-speaking client load since I'm now the only bilingual person in the office and that the translation of the retainer agreement was a $400 translation job. I told her that it took up way too much time from my other responsibilities and that she'd need to plan to contract work like that out, since that's not what she's paying me to do.

After the meeting, our 23 year old paralegal comes up to me and says, Alexis, how do you do that? I'm like, do what? How do you just come right out and say what you will and won't do to your boss and stand up for yourself like that? I hadn't even thought about it. How did I do that? I'm not the one to stand up for myself. I'll advocate for everyone except me, and I have a BIG mouth. Then it occured to me that maybe, just maybe I'm starting to believe that I am worth fighting for.

The next day, the boss comes to me and acknowledges my talent as an interpreter and a translator (I'll be happy to explain the difference to anyone who doesn't know--apparently there are many) and that if I was interested in the extra work, the job would contract out the translation work to me so that I can make extra money at the rate I deserve. Man, I nearly pissed my pants. How did that happen? And why am I so surprised when things fall into place as they should?

I've got a lot of un-learning to do. I've got a lot more to give a second thought. I've got so many more subjects I want to delve into, but I'm still getting my nerve.

Thanks to all of you who've read this long. Keep reading and commenting. I do this mostly for the discussion. Here's to 100 more!

Now, it's still gray and rainy, so I'm cuddling back up to my pillow now. Nappy time!

Peace.

Feeling Better and then There's Ex...and Survivor

I'm feeling much better today. Thanks bunches to all of you for your suggestions and well wishes.

Been a while since I've mentioned weight loss stuff. I haven't been to the gym in God knows when, but I've had 2 people insist that I am losing weight this week. I am conquering my addiction to the scale and therefore have no idea if they're right or not. Maybe I'll check it out this week.

My life has been too hectic to focus on anything but making sure I have a roof over my head. Ex stuff is finally catching up to him, and since they can't get what they want from him, guess who they're coming after?? Yep, you guessed it, yours truly. I keep telling myself that this will come to an end. It will be over and I will have my life back.

I never realized how much significance a name has. I want my last name back. It will be good riddance to the last reminder of how I lost myself to someone else. It will remain a memorial to me and a reminder to never lose myself again.

I am so sleepy these days. All I want to do is sleep. Someone said that it sounds like depression, but I think it's exhaustion. Stress wears you out. I really don't think I'm depressed. Angry, frustrated, anxious for this to be over? Yes. Actually I'm quite motivated. I'm getting a lot of things done that I've been sitting on, because it's crunch time now.

I was watching Dancing with the Stars last night. One of the contestants is going through a divorce and she seemed like she was so down and hurt by it. She mentioned that she needed this competition to distract her. I've been separated for 17 months now. I'm the happiest I've ever been in my adult life. Am I strange because I view my divorce as the best thing that could possibly be happening to me right now? Don't get me wrong, I cried. It hurt. It was a hard decision to make. But I made it and I'm thrilled. Is that wrong?

This is the most I've ever really talked about my divorce here.

It's grey and cozy today. Just like I like it. Anybody got a pillow?

UPDATE: Just a little friendly reminder to those in contention that Survivor Cook Islands on CBS starts tomorrow, Thursday, September 14th, 8pm et/pt. Be there. I'll bring the popcorn.

Not Feeling Any Better

I am not feeling any better. I missed both concerts, but I did manage to make the soup. It has not worked its magic. My throat is killing me on the left side only. I have a headache the starts in the back of my neck on the left side and comes all the way up the left side of my head to just over my left eye. I sound like I am super conjested, but no runny nose, and very little coughing.

Anybody got a diagnosis?

I hate taking western medicine, so I try to exhaust all know natural options before taking meds. I will normally endure a headache and drown myself in water until I can determine the cause. I didn't even try with this one. I've taken 4 doses of ibuprophen in 2 days and that is unheard of for me. I've taken 3 doses of sudaphed, in hopes of getting some relief, but nothing. I don't want to go buy more medicine because that aisle of the store makes me nauseous (no kidding). I've sniffed Vick's. Nothing.

In the middle of writing this post my friend Kwesi brought me a piping hot bowl of seafood gumbo with rice. Yum-o. And, I finally need to blow my nose.

What's wrong with me? I need this to go away. I'm miserable. I just want to sleep all day. I worked Friday, but I'm pretty sure tomorrow's not going to happen. I feel like crap. The most relief I've felt was Thursday night when I drank 2 cups of hot tea with lemon, honey and a shot of bourbon. At least I slept well. Is that what it boils down to? Bourbon? Should I just drink hot totty's until I feel better?

Isn't that bulldog adorable? I miss my dogs. They would make me feel better right now. I had 2 yorkies. Samson died 2 years ago this month. I had to put him down after 14 years. I lost Rudy to his dad when I left him. I can't have pets in my new apartment, and I shouldn't. I'm not home enough for a pooch. A dog would make me feel better right now.

I'm soliciting natural remedies? Any suggestions? Anybody willing to make the trip to the health food store, or wherever I'll need to get the ingredients you guys suggest?

I think I'm going back to the couch to continue watching the Project Runway marathon.

Help!

Good Soup, Good Crackers, Good Music, Good Weekend

Last Friday night I made soup, roasted red pepper and lentil soup, because it was rainy and I was having friends over to play cards and eat homemade soup and crusty bread.

This Friday night I'm making soup, chicken vegetable soup, because I'm sick and there's no one to make it for me.

Last night while shopping for the ingredients, I realized that I'm a cracker snob. I need great crackers with my soup, or tuna salad, or whatever. Ordinary just won't do. No Ritz, no Club, no Saltines, no Townhouse. I need crackers with substance and flavor. The best my local grocer had were Breton Garden Vegetable. I haven't been to Trader Joe's in a month or so, so I'm all out of the extra special ones.

I think I'm going to make cornbread muffins to go with the soup tonight anyway. That's the way Granny would do it.

Parliament is in town tonight. I'm supposed to go see them, but I'm not feeling up to it. I hope I muster the strength. And then there's a free jazz festival all day tomorrow. I really want to go to that. A bunch of other artists and Spyo Gyra will be there. I'm so attracted to free. Guess which one I'm picking if I have to choose?

Otherwise, I want to sleep this weekend. This has been a stressful week. There's craziness with ex stuff going on that I haven't mentioned, but I need to decompress. Big. Time.

Have a good weekend!

I've Got a Cold...

I have a love-hate relationship with the common cold. Like most, I hate having a head so stuffy you can't taste your food. I hate having to pause between chews to inhale through my mouth. I hate when the line of demarcation between my nose and my upper lip gets red and raw from blowing so much. I hate when nose starts peeling from all the blowing, but people think it's boogers. And I really hate being single and having a cold because there's nobody to make your chicken soup for you or bring you OJ in the middle of the night.

But, I love the slightly high feeling that comes from depleted oxygen, even before taking any meds. I love the chills because you get to wrap up in layers and layers. I love the safe, cozy feeling of being swaddled. I love falling asleep at 7pm and knowing that you're sick, so you get to just transfer your lazy body to the bed. Nothing else matters. Nothing else has to be done. I love calling out sick and sleeping all day....sleeping all day....sleeping all day....sleeping all day. I love the Price is Right on sick days and catching up on Y&R that I haven't seen in 3 years. I love never missing a beat. I love when a fever finally breaks and you're all wet and sweaty and mommy has to change your bed. I hate that mommy's not here to change my bed. Meh...no fever yet, so all's still well. And the absolute bestest part of having a cold.....SNEEZING!!!! It's the best.

AAAAAAAAACHoooooo!

Nite. Nite.

Emergence: Becoming Me

Growing, changing, becoming, emerging...

These have colored my speech and my experience recently, partly by choice, mainly by providence. I'm learning to comply with the aspects of emerging that are not within my power to control: the pain, the unknown. I'm learning to appreciate the surprises that, for so long, I failed to even notice. I'm learning to continue to become despite the chest-tightening, oppressive, unutterable fear.

The sounds of emergence are of breaking, shattering, tearing, ripping. The tastes are sanguine and salty. The sights are blurry and confusing, too bright to fully set one's gaze upon. The sensations are chilling, brisk, unconfined, indefinite. The smells reminisce of a recent cleansing rain.

Emergence is awakening. Awakening and knowing. I was lulled to sleep slowly and methodically over many, many years. Denial, self-pity and fear protected the slumbering me. Life's cruelty labeled me a victim. A victim of so many. And I believed. I learned to live asleep, dead. I was the walking dead, less familiar with myself than with the strangers I passed daily. Yet I threw myself (arguably futilely) into ushering others to places of self-awareness. I was a stranger to myself, and consequentally a stranger to everyone else who thought they knew me.

I was taking an hour and a half road trip with friends a few months ago. We missed a turn and as a result the trip ended up taking seven hours. I needed every extra second. We became engaged in a conversation about why I am so resistant to anyone saying anything good about me. About why I am not embarassed at all by the divulgence of my worst failures, yet I become completely discomposed by the slightest praise of what I have come to refer to as my "glory".

I believe that all are created with glory, that which makes us resplendently beautiful and magnificent, that which brings the Creator to his feet, that which causes him to look on us with delight. It is not hard for me to identify the glorious in others, even in those who have personally caused me quite a bit of suffering. But I have historically had a hard time accepting that others see the same in me. I wouldn't say that I thought that I'm altogether wretched, but there has been something in me that does not want to hear that which is good, though I know and agree that it exists.

For seven whole hours my friends waited for me to answer one question. Why is it so hard for you to acknowlege your glory?

I tried to answer. I cried. I stalled. I changed the subject. I wrestled. I fought. I resisted. I succumbed. I stayed silent. I swallowed my words over and over and over again. I didn't want them to leave my lips because if I never believed that words have power, I did that day. I knew that once the words escaped my lips, the layers of my cocoon would be disrupted and torn. I knew emergence would begin and there would be no turning back. After seven hours and having to write the words down before I could say them, they finally escaped from my lips:

Acknowledging my glory calls me to believe that I am not:

1. a victim of multiple sexual abuses,
2. a victim of an adulterous marriage,
3. a victim of abusive religion,
4. a child of an alcoholic parent,

but that I was created for more that has little if anything at all to do with the sum total of my suffering.

That was the day I began to emerge. It was the day I acknowledged that beneath the pain of life's disappointments is a person I am only beginning to know. It's a maddening process to learn to be who you always were while unlearning to play by the rules of the you you've only pretended to be.

I've adopted the dragonfly as my personal symbol. If it weren't for my supreme aversion to pain, I might have permanently imbellished my body with its image.

Dragonfly symbolism crosses and combines with that of the butterfly and change. The dragonfly symbolizes going past self-created illusions that limit our growing and changing. Dragonflies are a symbol of the sense of self that comes with maturity.


Sainthood emerges when you can listen to someone's tales of woe and not respond with a discription of your own. ~ Andrew V. Mason