Friday, December 31, 2010

Looking Foward to 2011


If we were meant to dwell in the past, our eyes would be on the backs of our heads.

I think 2011 is going to be the year of intuition. The year of Ajna chakra. (Third Eye, or Brow)

I need to work on trusting my intuition. Lately, I've been shown twice that my intuition is right on. I think the universe is giving me a "follow your intuition, for dummies" lesson. Maybe this is a primer for what's to come next year.

I feel that good things are coming my way. I just need to use my intuition to discard the "clutter" and keep room for what's coming.

Monday, December 6, 2010

"Tangled Up" by your humble muse

“Tangled Up”

“Kitty,” Gramma called. Gramma was the one who fed me. When her sweet voice called, I always hurried in that direction. Sometimes my journey to get to Gramma would be difficult. The house was still new to me and I wasn’t sure where I was going most of the time. Plus, I never knew when I’d have to dodge a basketball or hop over a pair of shoes or squeeze in between backpacks. No matter what the adventure, Gramma (and whatever she offered) was worth it. In fact, Gramma gave me my ball.

My ball. It was a lovely shade of red, almost the same color as the roses Gramma kept in the back garden. My ball was different, unlike any other ball in the house. Kind of like me, I wasn’t like any person or pet in the house. No one liked me as much as I liked my ball. When I would pounce on it or box it between my paws, it would run away. Then, it would change shape. As my ball ran further and further away, its tail grew longer and longer until it became one big tail. I never worried because Gramma always made her way over to transform the tail back into my ball.

One day, my ball vanished. No ball, no tail snaking around the living room, nothing. I looked under the couch. I only saw a few dust bunnies and some candy wrappers. The curtains were the same color as my ball but, it wasn’t hiding behind them. I looked next to Gramma’s chair, no luck. I even looked around the big bag she kept beside her chair. Nothing. Where could it be? I hadn’t been anywhere except the living room. Before I could even make a guess…

“Kitty,” Gramma called. She was getting ready to sit in her big, comfy chair. Every afternoon we sat and rocked. Sometimes she pulled something out of her big bag to keep busy with. Other times she sang to me. I kept her company. Purrrfect. This gave me time to think about what happened to my ball. I hopped into Gramma’s lap and started to unravel clues.
I began to wonder if my ball wasn’t lost. It was a really cool ball and the only one like it around the house. I began to wonder if someone stole my ball. Who? The rest of the family doesn’t like me very much. Mom doesn’t like me because I get under her feet. She says I’m too curious for my own good. I’ve heard her complain about moving my ball when the baby is around. The baby! He could have taken it. He’s constantly on the floor pulling at my tail or stealing my food. He’s even taken some of my other toys. Gramma usually catches him before it’s too late but, maybe she hadn’t been watching him this time. What about the boys? They are always running around with a ball of some sort. Maybe they wanted to play with my ball. Whenever I go near their room they yell at Gramma to come get me. Could they be hiding it in there? The only other person in the house is Dad. He’s been in Florida on business for the past two days. Therefore, he could not have taken it.

I didn’t have much time to develop a plan. Gramma was almost done with her afternoon quiet time. Since I already scoped out the living room, I figured my ball must be in a bedroom. If it had been in the kitchen or in the bathroom, Gramma would have found it by now. I was going to have to sneak into the bedrooms. If someone found me in the bedrooms, I was going to be in big trouble. I knew I had to be brave. It was the only way I would be able to find my ball.

Gramma finished our quiet time by petting me softly and saying, “Kitty, we’ve had our rest. This house isn’t going to clean itself. Off you go.” With that I hopped off her lap and fortified myself for the adventure. I decided to start with Mom’s room. She was at the grocery store so I knew I had at least thirty minutes before she came back. Next would be the baby’s room. After mom got back from the grocery store, she would feed the baby. That meant he’d be in the high chair for about twenty minutes. Finally, I’d search the boys’ room. The boys were in school and wouldn’t be home until later. I was nervous. Was my ball worth this risk? Yes. I was sick of being picked on. Someone stole MY ball. The bullying had to stop now.

I moved quickly to Mom and Dad’s room. They had left the door open a crack. It made sneaking in easy. I looked around and found everything neat and orderly. There was no ball in plain sight. A quick peak under the bed proved useless. I remembered that Mom once said she kept presents hidden inside her closet. Maybe that’s where she hid my ball. I looked high and low in the closet among the boxes and suitcases. I found different bags filled with gift wrapped presents but, no ball. All of a sudden I heard a muffled rumbling noise. Mom was pulling into the garage. That’s my cue to scram. I got out just in time. As soon as I bolted past the door I heard the kitchen service door shut. Luckily, the baby’s room was right next to Mom and Dad’s room. Right as mom turned the corner into the hallway, I turned the corner into nursery.

With mom home, I didn’t have much time to complete my investigation. My heart raced but, I had to focus. If the baby took my ball, where would it be? Think. If Mom had seen the baby with my ball, she would have taken it away from him. He would have to hide it somewhere. The only place the baby is alone is in his crib. A quick leap got me into the crib. I saw a red tail underneath the baby’s blanket. Excitedly, I sprung into action. I pounced on the tail and pushed the blanket aside only to see that the red tail was a red ribbon attached to the baby’s pacifier. I heard Mom shut the door to her bedroom. I froze in fear. If mom found me in the baby’s crib, I’d be banished from the house. I took another quick scan around the crib but, nothing even looked similar to my ball. As soon as I thought the coast was clear, I snuck out of the nursery.

The boys’ room was next. They wouldn’t be home from school for a few hours but, I had to worry about Mom finding me. Not to mention Gramma might notice I had been missing. I just knew my ball would be in there. It had to be. The boys were always playing with some sort of ball. They’d even throw tennis balls and play catch with the neighbor’s dog. I got into the boys room and my heart sank. The room was a total disaster. There was no way I was going to be able to find anything in that mess. The room was filled with shoes, clothes, video games, books, Twinkie wrappers, and many unidentifiable objects. I carefully maneuvered around the room, trying not to disturb anything. I saw things that were red but, not round. I saw things that were round but, not red. I saw things that looked like they were once round but, now were flattened. I glanced at the floor near the bunk bed. I saw something red and round behind the nightstand. I crouched and crawled underneath the nightstand and reached a paw out to bat the red, round thing. When it rolled away, it didn’t leave behind a tail. It wasn’t my ball.

“Kitty!” Oh no, Gramma must have noticed I was missing. I had to leave and without my ball. Whoever took my ball had won. Defeated, I scampered out of the bedroom and over to Gramma’s easy chair. “Kitty, have you been into mischief?” she asked as she sat down and offered me a seat on her lap. I purred and curled up trying to find some comfort. Gramma reached down and grabbed a few things out of her bag. She pulled out two long sticks with little hooks at the end. Then, she pulled out something that looked like my ball. It was almost round like my ball, just a bit longer. It was fuzzy like my ball but, a different color. Curious, I carefully got up and began to peer over the arm of the chair. It was really dark in the bag and I couldn’t really see from way up in the chair. I stretched and stretched to see if I could get a better look. Then, it happened. Plop! I fell into the bag. Luckily, I had a soft landing. Gramma scooped me out before I could get a good look around. I had been foiled once again.

“Kitty, are you alright?” Gramma cooed. “You sneaky kitty. You were trying to spoil your surprise weren’t you?” I couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying. I could only think about getting back into that bag. Gramma restricted me to her lap with one hand and with the other hand she reached back into the bag. She started to pull out more things. Then, I saw it! The beautiful shade of red caught my eye immediately. But, something was wrong. It was my ball or at least it was the tail of my ball. The tail was knotted, twisted, and tangled. What had happened to my ball? “Kitty, do you know what this is?” Gramma asked. “This is your very own bed.” I was baffled. Gramma was the thief? Gramma stole my ball? Of all the people who could have taken it, I never thought it could have been Gramma. Not only had Gramma taken my special ball but, she had made me a bed. Now I had a place of my own. Gramma placed the bed on the floor next to her chair and I hopped into it. It was purrrfect. I heard Gramma say something else. “Kitty, it’s time we gave you a name. How about Scarlet?” Scarlet, I like that name. I was finally had a name and a place in the family. I guess they liked me after all.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Nightmares before Christmas

I hope this isn't a trend, but my nightmares are back. Last night I couldn't go back to sleep because my nightmare was so disturbing. It was weird because the dream started out ok, then it got bad. I remember thinking, ok this is a bad dream, but it wasn't worth waking up from. LOL Then it turned and became a nightmare.

In fact, I tried twice today to take a nap and I couldn't fall into deep sleep.

I've never been this afflicted with nightmares.

Interesting.

Here's to sweet dreams.....clink clink.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

A Thought on Thanks




Thanksgiving.

It's easy to spout off a list of the things are you are thankful for. We know what we should be thankful for, even if we take them for granted. We spout these things off in a numb cadence every year right before we overfill our stomachs.

What if instead you think about what you've lost this year. Maybe you've lost a family member, a friend, or a pet. Maybe you've lost your job, health, or good times. Maybe you've lost the love of your life. Maybe you've lost a part of yourself.

Reflecting upon what we've lost might help us to understand gratitude. Gratitude for when these things were ours and for life after loss.

We don't like to think about loss but, it gives us perspective about giving thanks. So maybe this exercise can be something reciprocal. Thinking about loss (not dwelling on it), bears gratitude, which helps us heal and move forward.

Just a thought.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Reading and Writing and Rules Days



Well I am considering doing a 30 blog challenge. Thirty blogs in thirty days. I'll keep you posted. It would be a great writing exercise for me.

Ok so today's blog is informational but, not very interesting to others. I'm going to give you a run down of my classes this semester and next semester. I'll also let you know about the fast track program at UTD. If you don't care, click off.

This semester I am taking 15 hours:

Detective Fiction
Western Literary Tradition: Epics
Educational Psychology
Holocaust Representation
Reading and Writing Text: Irish Studies

Next semester I've enrolled in 15 hours:

True Stories
Persuasion
Literary Analysis
English Syntax and Structure
Individual and Society (Online)

This summer I intend to take nine hours. Then in the fall I'll take another 15 hours. Here's where the fast track program comes in. The fast track program allows you to take the last 12 undergrad hours at graduate level. So I'm double dipping in a way. Those 12 hours will count to my undergrad as well as my graduate requirements. When I enter my master's program I'll be 12 hours ahead of the game!

What this means though, is that my last semester is going to be tough. I know I can handle it. I think I'll just have to adjust somethings in my life and maybe even --gasp-- accept some help.

Monday, November 15, 2010

It's Beginning to Look a Lot like Thanksgiving.

I am one month from the end of my semester! Thank goodness. Just in time for the holidays. Speaking of the holidays. This morning on the local radio station, there was Christmas music! It's not even Thanksgiving. While I normally get on my soapbox about Christmas coming before Thanksgiving, there was something so fun about hearing that music.

Let's get back focused on Thanksgiving. It's my favorite holiday. Fall is my favorite season and Thanksgiving epitomizes fall. Nothing beats spending the day with your family, preparing food from family recipes, eating your gourd out, then chatting the evening away.

I love my family. No matter if I spend time with my Mom, or my Dad, or my grammas, aunts and uncles, there's bound to be laughing, reminiscing and lots of love. Thanksgiving is a great family holiday.

Not to mention, there aren't any THANKSGIVING songs to fill your head!

Friday, November 12, 2010

Do I look like the Beanie Baby type?


So I have said many times that I was going to marry myself. I'm totally jaded to the prospect of finding a life partner who will (in the wise words of Bridget Jones) "love me just the way I am." So I've devised this plan to marry myself and I must admit the plans are coming together quite nicely.

Well, I guess my G.B.F.F. (Guy best friend forever) has started to worry about my sanity. Last night, I was hanging with him and his unofficial/official girlfriend and they collectively tell me that they think this guy that my G.B.F.F. works with might be fun for me to meet. Well, it is very apparent that these two are NOT salespeople. What do they lead with in selling this prospective suitor? He kindof looks like a Beanie Baby. Really? Really? Sheez. I was never into Beanie Babies and I can't imagine that I would want to start. Really? What am I going to be thinking when I meet this guy for the first time? "Crap he really does look like a Beanie Baby....Don't laugh, Don't laugh." Thanks guys.

Hmmm. Maybe there's a market for online dating where you pick the Beanie Baby that was your favorite and then it pairs you with a single man or woman or transBeanie that matches.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

It's Written on the Rafters


So I'm going to go see a band tonight. My favorite song of theirs is entitled "Shake the Rafters Loose." This song has been on replay in my head. Today as I'm looking at friend's photos, I come across some pictures of words written on wood pieces (2x4s and such). The wood pieces were assembled into an effigy and set aflame. There was a variety of messages. The idea of sending your words into the universe in flame is powerful. Intentions you hope to realize. Hardships you wish to release. Love you wish to share.

Well, after looking at about three or four of these pictures, it hit me. I wrote on the rafters. Remember that summer? Yes. I was so in love. Just for a second it made me sad. What I wrote on the rafters is what I thought would remain as my present. One day, my "present" will be revealed. It won't matter if those words defined the rest of my life. It will just matter that in that moment, I wrote my feelings on the rafters.

(My words were never committed to the universe in flame. That might be symbolic. But, they are there. They will be until the house is torn down or remodeled.)

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Watching the Leaves

The view out of my office window is of a tree. The leaves are turning red. It has captured my attention at least four times today. Funny how it's the dying part that is so lovely. We take the green for granted but, can't wait til fall to see the red, yellow and orange of death.

Monday, November 8, 2010

"The Apparent Misconception of Love"

Update:
It has been awhile since I've blogged. Just about a month. Well, I don't feel like rehashing my surgery. I'll just let you know, all went fine and I'm much better for it. I have some wonderful friends who came to see me, keep me company, walk the halls with me. I'm not back to 100% yet but, getting there.

Blog:
I wrote this whole long blog about how this year sucked and how I'm heartbroken. Then I heard Bob Newhart in my head. "Stop it!" (Thanks John).

There is nothing more violating then when our concepts of love, life, or the world are turned upside down.

It's a fundamental shift. Confusion and hurt are the temporary parameters until you can rebuild.

Fumbling forward. Tumbling towards tomorrow. Bumbling into being.

Only to be more beautiful in spirit, only to be stronger in identity when resurrected.

Smile Smile - Sad Song from Smile Smile on Vimeo.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Morphine....That's Top Shelf

So I'm in the hospital. The universe has finally commanded that I get my gallbladder taken out. It was a very painful lesson to learn. I'm scared of having surgery. Very scared. I guess I will get some sleep finally. I will tell the silly tale later. Just wanted to write a quick blog. G'night.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

The Korean Minister

So, the nightmares have subsided for the time being. Now it seems that the days are scarier than the nights. Oh well, at least I'm getting some sleep....That is until the Korean Minister wakes me up.

On the Korean Minister:

So the other day. I'm sleeping peacefully. Thankfully. Then, I am abruptly brought into the land of the living by the muffled voice of a man. Ugh. I hate living in an apartment but, who the heck is it? Despite the sheer volume, I'm unable to make out the voice. It's only one voice. There is no dialogue. The cadence is not English. So, I guess it is coming from my Korean neighbor underneath me. This was at 5 in the morning. It was only for about an hour. Unfortunately, this has continued twice a day, regularly. Interjecting loudly around 6 am then again around 10 pm. Not to mention the two times last night, one at 2 in the morning and again at 5 in the morning.

So if you know me well, you know this is a major issue. But, I'm also very respectful of the elderly. She's a nice lady in her 80's, maybe older. Her husband is sick. I think he was in assisted living or the hospital for awhile. Now he's back.

So, how could I begrudge him his minister time. I wish they would choose to play this at other times. But, then.....

I left my apartment the other day. I looked and there they were. Wife and husband. Wife caring for husband. Husband unable. She was rubbing some lotion on his slightly fuzzy head. I made up my mind that I had to get over this.

I can't help the frustration I feel about the noise. Especially at 2 in the morning. I think about what I saw. What did I see? Love? Devotion? Vows?

I heard the Korean Minister. I saw the vows.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Another Late Night


When I was a child, I only remember ONE of my nightmares. In my dream, I awoke in my bed and there was a huge boa constrictor type snake next to me. I was paralyzed with fear and it bit me in the thumb.

-----

So tonight I'm up with worry (again). Nightmares, worry, and frustration seem to frequent my evenings (and days for that matter). Lately, I have been having nightmares about snakes. In the first nightmare, a snake fell from the ceiling. It fell right in front of my body, I felt it as it fell. In fact, I woke up gasping/screaming. In the second nightmare there was one snake and I was getting used to it. I wasn't happy about it being there but, I wasn't as panicky and as scared with it being there. Then all of a sudden, snakes started coming out of everywhere. Little snakes, medium sized snakes. There were hundreds.

I read an article online that said snakes can symbolize worry and unresolved issues. Maybe in the first dream I had one issue and it was being put before me to resolve. Whether I liked it or not, it was being forced in the forefront for me to tackle. Maybe I haven't quite conquered this task, therefore my second dream meant my issues are going to multiply.

Great.

What if it's a matter of I don't know how to do this task, or I don't want to do this task, or I can't do this task? Am I going to have nightmares about snakes forever? How do I stop worrying? Should I take the Bob Newhart advice and just "STOP IT!"? I wish I could! That's easier said that done.

One of my favorite dreams when I was a child was of flying. Maybe I could have that dream tonight. Um.....I wouldn't mind flying with John Legend "So High". :)

P.s. After writing this, I attempted to find a picture of a snake to post. Not the brightest idea. The images were quite scary. Going to go with a picture of John Legend instead.

Friday, September 17, 2010

If I'm stupid, what does that make you?

Ok so you get two posts today. Aren't you lucky?

The previous post was heavily edited, this one cannot be, so there will be offensive language. It is part of the story not gratuitous.

So this morning, "someone" asks me if a certain person called. I had seen "someone" at four and gave him the messages of the people who had called. So I assume that he means from four to five did this person call. I said I don't believe so but, if he called earlier in the day, I directed him to your cell. (Something to that effect). No more than an hour later, "someone" is on the phone with the caller he had asked about. I specifically hear the conversation (to a point--which will be integral). Not that I'm ease dropping, it's just that the area that we are in is small and some people speak loud. They are talking about Dr. and allergies and the sun. Then there comes a point in the conversation where it is said, "Did you call yesterday?" "She said you didn't" now the volume gets much lower but I still overhear "She's fucking stupid".

---------I'm going to put an aside here because this totally retribution for calling someone a stupid heifer. I just realized this. LOL-------------------------

Anyways, if you know me well enough to know the stupid heifer incident, you know that I am not much of one for confrontation. It would be totally in character for me to simply pretend that I didn't hear it.

You would be proud though. I don't know where this courage came from but, as soon as he got off the phone and walked past me, I asked "Did you just call me fucking stupid to your client?" He look surprised. Of course there was an explanation that it was not me that he was talking about and that he was talking about how doctors are stupid because they don't look at medical history before filling what could be a prescription that could react negatively with standing prescriptions or medical conditions.

Did he-didn't he? I will never know. So we'll take it at face value. I heard something. I defended myself. Go me!

I need a beer.

Talk Amongst Yourselves?


Today I clicked on an article on CNN.com about Yom Kippur. So I read about three sentences when this (somewhat) unrelated picture, in a ancillary side bar, caught my eye. At first glance, I thought it was showing an anti-Semitic act (I thought the marquee belonged a synagogue) but, then I realized no. Then, I thought it was CNN's disappointingly moronic attempt at placement irony(that this picture is being advertised on an article about a Jewish holiday). I guess because I clicked on an article about religion, this picture came up. Whatever. After that, I started to think about what the simple sign said and what it meant.

The sign belonged to a Christian Church.

He Lives!
He Reigns!
End of discussion.

Three statements. Two descriptive, one command.

The first thing I wondered was, "Where was the discussion?" If you are ending a discussion there has to be a beginning. For a discussion to take place there should be two people speaking. There was no dialogue. One person speaking is not a discussion. Giving me two statements and then concluding without the opportunity to speak is not a discussion.

So you may believe "He Lives", you may believe "He Reigns" but, also believe even Shakespeare had detractors who would not applaud his monologues.

--------Ok so you might not like this but, did it make you think? Leave a comment. Start a DISCUSSION :)

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

My life as a PSA


My boss came in my office and plucked out one of his nose hairs. This is the hell. My life should be a public service campaign. I have enough public service announcements to last the entire summer.



Don't be like me. Get a college degree. Don't be condemned to work in hell.

Racism hurts. Fight back. Kick racial slurs to the curb.

Negativity is positively self destructive.

Each of us have our own place on the planet. There's no room for misanthropy.

Curiosity killed the cat. Stop the feline murder. Mind your own business.

Hand sanitizer is $1.50. A staph infection is an office co-pay and prescription bills. Keep clean.

Grown ass men should wipe their own grown ass. Dependency is only acceptable in infancy and infirmary.

Opinions and thoughts should be developed like a fine wine, not regurgitated like cheap tequila.



Sigh. Only one and a half years left of my time share in hell.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Nish Nouveau---Oh No!


The other day, while I was waiting for my Holocaust and Representation class to start, a young man struck up casual conversation. It must be noted that I am quite cautious or even averted to people who, upon first encounter, I quickly deduce to be a total weirdo. It must be noted that I am also a believer in giving people the benefit of the doubt. Keeping with this policy of politeness, I engage and ask if he’s a History major. He answers yes. Further developing this congenial pre-class etiquette, I ask what he plans to do with his degree. He answers that he’d like to teach history and coach basketball, football and possibly golf. He says he loves kids and can’t explain it but, he knows he has to be around kids. He HAS to be around kids. Right away my “spidey” senses start tingling. There was a bit too much eagerness and more than a hint of perv in his voice.

So at a lull in the conversation, I remove myself to the classroom. I find a seat and wait. Yes, we all know what’s coming. He sits right next to me. Great. One of the benefits of being a nerd is that I actually listen to my professors. Therefore, without great effort I can focus intently on my professor when my peripheral vision and auditory senses are being infiltrated by some wise crackin’ punk. So this guy is bitching about the class and the work load but, I stay committed to my inner nerd. I feign total engrossment in the matter at hand. The subject matter for the moment was films about the Holocaust. The professor goes into an explanation about various films and whether or not the director lent their art to better the understanding or representation of the Holocaust. She mentions the film “Sophie’s Choice”, of which she argues that that representation of Sophie’s choice was different than that of a Jewish mother in the same situation. Next, she mentions the film “The Reader”. She explains that, to her, the film’s portrayal of pedophilia overshadowed its representation of the Holocaust.

It would be beyond boastful to think that I have some sort of encompassing knowledge about human behavior. Nor would I egregiously intimate that in some way I willed the following actions to happen. But, why, as soon as my professor said the word pedophilia, did I know what was going to happen next? I knew it. Why was it that the only notes this boy took was the name of that pedophiliac movie? Now I know that there is some jumping to conclusions on my behalf but, come on. As a mom, as a female, as a non deviant, my creep meter went off like fireworks on the fourth of July.

There have been other times when I’ve just KNOWN the series of events that were about to occur. Usually it is the not-so-good premonitions. Those, I promise, will be in a future musing. What explains this? It’s not stereo typing. It’s not psychic ability. It’s not vast psychological analysis. Maybe I’m tapping into a great well of experiences from past lives. Like a kind of de-ja-vue. I’m not a believer in past lives but, I’m not a non believer in them either. Intuition? Some sick sort of luck? Is it just my jaded cynicism hop scotching into fruition?

Whatever it is, let’s all think happy thoughts that this guy isn’t the next Mr. Nish. Who’s that? Oh well he was my chemistry teacher that got thrown in jail for “inappropriate behavior” with a young girl. Sigh, another musing for another day.

p.s. Five hour energy at 7 o’clock is a means to an all night study or blog session.


Friday, August 27, 2010

Fair Weather Fan


So, football season is upon us. Exhibition games or "pre-season fixes" have started to tide us over until September 9th, NFL season opener.

Today's musing is about definition of character. Not some overwhelmingly grand idea of character but, in simple terms, are we Team A or are we Team B? You may know that I am a Seahawks fan. I know, I know. I am not from Seattle, never even been there. Not from the Pacific Northwest either. So you may wonder how I became a Seahawks fan (why would I be of fan of that hot mess?). Back many ten years ago, I fell in love with a Seahawks fan, a die hard Seahawks fan. So it was easy to assimilate my non-defined football persona into a Sea-Fence chanting, Holmgren loving, blue and green wearing Seahawker. Seven seasons I was rooting my heart out every Sunday! The Seahawks even went to the Superbowl! Many of my close friends also remember this, as I made many drunk calls after the Seahawks won the NFC.

After the Superbowl, life for the Seahawks wasn't so great. I wouldn't characterize it as a fall from grace. It was more like a shove off a cliff and a faceplant in a dry creek bed. Such is life...in fact, the NFL mirrored my life in that, following the grand year of 2005, my life began it's leap face first into the jagged rocks of the broken hearted.

What became evident, after the break up, was that even though I was no longer in the presence of what originated my character definition....I was still shaped by that mold. Those seven years are a part of who I am. For better or for worse, I am a Seahawk fan. ---We won't go into the other crap that I am because of those seven years. That's a musing for another day---

Now I have a Packer fan in my life. I really struggle with this. Of all things -- A PACKER FAN???? He isn't a hard core football fan. Truth be told, I am the one that got him into the habit of watching football. I think he feels that my allegiance to the Seahawks is some latent loyalty to my ex lover. Just as much as I can understand this thought, I CANNOT be a Packer fan. So we've decided that he'll root for the Packers, I'll root for the Seahawks and together we'll root for anyone playing the Cowboys. If the Seahawks don't make the playoffs (which is more of a given than the exception lately), I will root for the Packers in the post season.

I think that my Packers fan thinks that if I assimilated for my ex, why wouldn't I assimilate for him. I think the difference is that I was Switzerland before being a Seahawks fan. No real allegiance to any team. Those seven years defined me. If I were to give that up, I'd be the biggest poser ever. If I were to cheer for his team, the team that so many times crushed my heart, I'd be such a football hypocrite. I couldn't tolerate myself as a football fan.

Therefore, I'll shout SEA-FENCE at the top of my lungs. I'll wear my cute Seahawks apparel. I will speak of a pilgrimage to Qwest field. I'll taunt other teams for the first 5 minutes of a game and then console my team at the end of an embarrassing loss. I will say "TJ Housh ya mamma!".

In staying true to my team, I'll try to stay true to me.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Duality



No doubt about it, I'm a knock out. Unfortunately, I can't help feeling like a punching bag.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Lately


Lately, things haven't been good, here at least. Most of my life, up til now, I've been fortunate to at least have a handle on one aspect of my life if another was out of control. Now though, it's like the universe has decided I've graduated and kicked me out on my own. Tough love from the universe.

There's plenty of cliches involving strength, growth, and appreciation. Most of those are intended to instill hope and patience for the conclusion. What is supposed to help me in the now?

I'm doing what I'm supposed to do and I'm doing what I need to do but, somehow the laws of reciprocity have been working under slow justice.

I know that this will not be the end of me. That would be too easy. When this does end, whether or not I'm a better person for it, I'm going to raise my voice to the universe and say, "Was that f'ing necessary?!" To which I will not get a response but, at least I will have spoken it.



---Side note. Boys from Oklahoma are cute.---

Sunday, July 18, 2010

So I'm back. Well kindof.

Well after many YEARS I've reincarnated "Musings for the Museless" on blogspot. Long gone are the hilarious antics of Weekday Hoe. Now my stories may be a bit darker but musings cannot always be the same hue. I hope to make people think! Not huge life changing thoughts but simply think. Create an original thought. Learn something new. Transcend routine. Be different. Without original thoughts you're merely a consumer. Be a peach------Produce. Get it? Oh yeah expect bad humor also. Love.