i'm so angry, why??

its getting really out of hand
my anger
everything and everyone makes me mad
traffic
people
people
traffic


i don't understand it
but i think i'm having a meltdown
i don't want to go back to work after being on holiday for a week and a half
i told Rob i wish i could call in sick for the rest of my life
or retire
i wish i could have a personality transplant
i wish i was mellow and easygoing

in the dentist's chair

i'm not sure why i don't like going for dental visits
i don't often have cavities, so its not like its painful
i still always find myself gripping the arms of the chair with whitish knuckles
and leaving the office with a tension headache.

don't you find it funny that when hygienists or dentists have every tool in their tool box crammed into your mouth, then want to carry on a conversation with you?
and all you can do is reply "mmmmffff"
can't even really nod your head or one of those sickle-like tartar scrapers might jog over and pierce your gums

i hate that scraping sound
also hate how it feels like they're scraping them within an inch of their enamel. . ugh
doesn't take long,
but its not the most pleasant thing, is it?

i had the drool bib chained to my neck like always
and that always makes me feel like a doofus.
There's not much to look at, the ceiling, the masked face of the person working in your mouth, the little stuffed creature was on top of the lamp,
a small grey mouse wearing a blue hardhat, a little bizarre, yes.
not the usual bunnies or chickies that are in the other treatment rooms.
Then came the brand new thing in the check up routine
Sunglasses??

The hygienist said: "Now, Kathy, you can put on these glasses,
to prevent glare from the lamp." I took them and put them on.
I said to her: "I feel strangely like Bono". . which she thought was hilarious.
Felt kinda odd, reclining with my spit bib on, looking like Bono, while having my teeth scraped.
The girl said "Well, wouldn't it be nice to have his money?"
and of course i said : "Mfff hmmfff", mouth full of pokey, steel instruments
and of course 'we' talked more about gardening and crappy weather, vacation bargains and such.. . . she talked, i mumbled unintelligibly. . but the strangest thing
is all these dental people seem to understand you perfectly!
its like they've all taken a course or something

i don't know if have any cavities, the dentist wasn't there today
but i was assured they would call me if the x-rays showed anything
i'm crossing my fingers, don't want to break my lucky streak i have going

oldness

i have this aversion to 'old'
there's something so gross about aging
i have a real problem with it, always have
wrinkling and sagging,
shuffling and stooping
i find it all so distasteful
senior's moments, dentures, white hair
debility and weakness
i seems like such a cruel way to end up
after experiencing the excitement of childhood, the vigor of youth
and the productivity of the middle years
to end curled up and dried up
so undignified
so wrong

i had a grandmother who always looked 'old' to me
but she didn't live 'old'
she was kickin' and spittin'
feisty, independent
outspoken
smart
talented
compassionate in her actions
and amazing in the kitchen
for a time in my youth i had this notion that she'd never die
i thought of my grandfather in the same unrealistically immortal way - forever in his study, reading, writing for various publications, wearing his pile-lined slippers, eating his licorice
they seemed ageless to me
but time was not kind to them
strokes, bypasses, cancer
gone
time is that way with all of us
its like a double-edged sword, it can by its passage, bring promise and maturity, assuage grief, impart fantastic memories,
but it turns to cut us right in half in a matter of just decades
reducing us to mere shadows of our former selves
cruel

i know its all bravado to make claim that i will not succumb
i am fiercely determined to stay vital
still i feel the claws of age sinking in to my bones, wearing them away
so i take calcium and magnesium, i lift weights, i dance, eat good food
to keep the monster at bay
i think about my heart valves
i wonder about the condition of my arteries
i think about my liver and my lungs
i think of my muscles - i don't want to lose strength
who wants to be weak?

I wear my garlic necklace for the vampire of old age
but i don't think its working
I know decline is inevitable
i know i can't stave it off forever.

i can't read small print without my glasses
i hate this
my optometrist calls it 'middle aged focus'
I buy skin creams and treatments,
but still i see small lines on my face where none existed
i have 'white roots' which i battle to smother in colour
i have pain daily which grumbles on a good day
and roars on a bad one.

the 'circle of life' (sorry for the unfortunate Lion King association here)
is what it is
the part where you start off in diapers and eat baby food is adorable
the part where you end up in the same state,
well there's just nothing cute about that now,
is there?

how long to sing this song?

it seems i'm good when it comes to lamenting
too good
i write enough about my 'feelings'
and God knows i think enough about them!
sometimes i get sick and tired of my angsty thought processes and i just wanna
yell to my own brain:
SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!!

the more self runs the show,
the more spirit gasps and weakens
the natural dichotomy, summed up
but i don't want to be 'natural'

its hard to live with major issues that remain unresolved
in a way i feel like the Queen of the Crowded Heart
adaptation is an interesting phenomenon
adapt to loss
adapt to struggle

but no protection is completely impervious
there are chinks in the armor if you look closely
usually though, people don't have time to come in for a close look

someone did this morning
and it surprised me, i didn't see it coming
a friend at work asked me "How are you doing?"
of course i said 'fine'
She challenged me to stop lying. .
and it jarred me
in a good way
i guess she could see through me?
and she was right

most of the people i work with think that the sun shines out of my ass
and this, they say in lunch table joking, bugs them.
i always tell them that if i was transparent
they'd probably all wanna find another table across the room!
even though i feel the sturm und drang within
i compress it and force it down
this may not be not great,
but it feels better to live above that stuff

anyway, i really appreciated the reality check
she's been anything but 'fine' lately herself
and i think is trying to make sense of all that she's experienced.

i said to her: "You know, you're right. . we shouldn't be afraid to be authentic, with each other . .what are we so afraid of?"

coming up for air

sheesh. . things are so nuts lately.
can you relate?
work is well, the 'b' word. . i hate that word cuz it is THE default response to every "How are you" query.
"How have you been?" "Oh, bu@y"
"How was your weekend?" "It was so bu@y. . i need an extra day to recover"
crazy bu@y. .
insanely bu@y
too bu@y
friggin bu@y

i don't like to say that i hate a word, but i am very loathe to even mention it or THINK it, cuz it gives me heart palpitations.
However, i'm not so hypocritical that i don't admit to dwelling in the very state i despise - the state of bu@y. . bu@y state (b.s. for short)

Rob's mom has been so ill. . and now has come here and is staying in our spare room
until she recuperates a bit more. She's had quite a bad winter, and now this badness is extending into spring for her.
We sure hope she turns a corner VERY soon.

Rob and i are entering the demographic called the "sandwich generation". . .
new phase, next wave. .
life is interesting folks
and tiring
and joyous
and beautiful
not to mention perplexing
role reversing
unpredictable

want to say

i want to say something worth something
but i've really had such a dearth of sayable things lately
its a mystery to me why sometimes words flow out of me like a swollen spring river
and other times they're dried up, dessicated
and i feel so out of control in that whole process
never have been in control
and now i'm tired
and i'm in a funny mood
and its a work night
and i haven't made my lunch yet
and i should be in bed

i hope you're well?
are you?

good night

words

i heard some not so commonly used words in movie dialogue tonight:
hubris
perjorative
subsume

i found that exciting because
i love words, vocabulary
love the sound of them
love using them
love reading them

but i do love words for more than function

i'm fascinated by the power they contain

and yet terrified. .

i don't think we understand words in this context. . .

sometimes i think we humans talk too much

sometimes i think we don't talk enough

overcommunicate

fail to communciate

miscommunicate

the weight of words, their power
their link to action
what we say has a direct effect on what happens
or doesn't
speak too soon and it can be diastrous
speak too late and its the same thing
speak too much and the overflow of words spills away like run off
speak too little and the words dry up along with your ability to have a say
speak without action. . .
blah, blah, blah
act first, speak after = regrets, damage
speak lies = destruction
speak love = restoration

speechless?
does that happen often?
i think too little
and what can stop words?

awe -- is that something humanity is still capable of feeling? dropped jaw, dumbfounded

disaster -- often snatches the words from our mouths

sorrow -- smothers words, makes us put our hands over our mouths, physically showing that we have none

realization -- running smack into the brick wall of undisputed truth -- open mouthed, no sound

i think the trick is balance and wisdom
knowing when to speak and what to say
controlling the flow of words so there's no waste
but making sure to speak when its called for
understanding how your words affect others
knowing that from the overflow of your heart, your mouth speaks
what's in the heart?
whatever comes out of our mouth.

complaints
unkindness
criticism
f bombs and talk of excrement
hope
encouragement
double entendres
infidelity
truth
gossip
grace
love
prejudice
curses
blessing
prayer

i think i'm a bird killer

I was heading in to work this morning, early. . . around 7:15 (well, that's early for me anyway!)
Driving along on my patented 'short cut' route for the impatient and speedy,
I made a left turn, rounded the corner and accelerated. That's when it happened.
You know how birds fly in small groups and they do that swoop, then rise thing of theirs?
Well, the front of my van met one bird still in the swoop.
I looked in my rearview and didn't see it pull up at the last minute.
I have a feeling it ended up on the grassy boulevard.
It was a plump, little robin -- harbinger of spring.
That's right, i killed spring, which is why the day started off kind of warm, then got considerably colder. . its all my fault!
I feel bad.

love random!!!

today, i took my afternoon walk break through the hospital.
my lovely place of employment
i walked through the "A" wing, swung around the bend in the hall and took the furthest stairwell down to the basement level (this is part of my 'i can't stand sitting on my butt any more and i must get up' daily ritual).
On the landing of the stairwell sat this huge, random chair!
i realize this is not terribly exciting,
but there's never a chair there, it was so random

i don't know why but i love to see random things in places where they don't belong!

we have a running joke in our family. .

say we're driving along. .driving.. suddenly there's a shoe sitting in the middle of the road. One of us will say: "Random shoe". Then we laugh. ha ha ha haha. .we find this funny.

last spring i happened to look out the front room window and saw a woman walking a small horse. Random!! The whole family was here, having family lunch. We all went outside to talk to this woman and pet the pony.

i was in the lunch room the other day, fishing a pear out of my lunch bag. Janey was also in there getting something. I looked in the bag and 'bing'. . sitting on top of my food sat a random white serviette with "I love you" written in pen (Rob made my lunch). Random surprise! Yeah, i got made fun of. those girls have no romance in their souls! i did get a few "awww's" though.

Speaking of lunch. . . today i was digging around in my lunch bag pocket to see if i had a knife to loan Louise. . i did!
in the pocket i found a random, yellow ju jube!
of course i ate it
it was a bit stale though.

for me, "random" almost seems magical -- i didn't see it get there, it doesn't belong there, but is suddenly just there. i like that. .
a little randomness punctuating the routine pattern of every day.

what i won't do to travel. . . and other random things

a couple of years ago i won a trip for two to a 5-star resort in Mexico.
It was a DREAM holiday and we LOVED every minute of our grand prize trip!!!

I was sitting on the couch the other morning, going through the grocery, store flyers and i saw a coupon/special offers booklet with a nice-sounding travel prize. .

I yelled out to Rob, who was in the dining room, "Robbie! We need to travel again. Look up the website www.cottonelle.ca!" He did and its one of those 1 entry per person per day. I like those. . the more entries the better. I guess it sounds lame that i think entering contests is our way of going on trips!? but it worked once. . it could happen again?!

The name of the contest campaign is a little unfortunate. . .

"Be Kind to Your Behind" sweepstakes. .

its sponsored by a manufacturer of toilet paper

i figure i can be kind to my behind by giving it another chance to sit in a 5-star beach chair! I wish!


and now for the random --

My granddaughter told me the other day: "Nana, I'm marrying Connor." I feigned surprise. . "Oh, really honey?!" Eri sounded nonchalant: "Yeah, i was going to marry Donovan, but he moved to Preston and I changed my mind." Oi! she's 4!!!!

An observation. ..

Canadians are crazy. . I say this with utmost love and all, being Canadian myself.
It can be fffreezing outside in this part of Canada in March, like it was today.
The sun shines and jazzes everyone. . and people start going outside with bare arms while there are still piles of snow everywhere?! It makes no sense. . but then again we're a desperate lot.

I watched a bit of a TLC show last night. . a thin British hypnotist was telling an audience of unthin people that they could control their impulses by tapping on their cheekbones, then collar bone, then cheekbone again, then the outside of their hand, while humming the first couple of bars of "the Birthday Song", looking down to the right, down to the left, around in circles one way, then the other -- don't stop tapping. . and voila, impulse is diminished? umm, yeeeah. Then came the call (host) and answer (audience) : "What should you do when you're hungry?" "EAT!" "What should you eat?" "WHAT WE WANT!" "How should you eat it?" "CONSCIOUSLY!" gosh. . i don't even know what kind of snappy, smart-ass comment to insert here!! If i consciously eat whatever garbage i want, every day will that do the trick? People are desperate? stupid? This guy's a sheister. . huckster, he's laughing all the way to BIG money, profiteering by making people tap themselves black and blue, rolling their eyes and singing Happy Birthday ?! BAH!!

 
 
 
 

just another day off work?

Good Friday
day off work and school
everything is inconveniently shut down
less time to buy marshmallow bunnies and hoola hoops

does a massive hush spread over the globe in honour of the most pivotal moment in history?
hardly
hardly at all
the liquor store is closed and no one can buy their beer

some people don't know anything about Good Friday
why is it called good?
what does that mean?

for me it means imaging what it would be like to be universally supreme
and amazingly not obliterating anyone who displeased me
even more amazingly, loving the ones who tested my love to the limits

it means agreeing then to be born into a mere body
growing up human, with all of those frustrations
still retaining my pure, uncompromised holiness
teaching and breathing reviving love
into the ones i created, who had died in their spirits. . . cut off from me
and having my heart wrenched and torn in the process and my body beaten and broken for them

it means bearing the collective tonnage of their sin, past, present and yet to be committed. . .. having it suffocate and invade my holiness. . .
genocides, homicides, wars, despair, grief, mental and physical disease of the billions, all manner of degredation, every heinous, vile act against every victim in the world's history piled high upon me, squeezing out my life, faces, voices, cries in my head, before my eyes

knowing that this was the only way to break sin's chokehold on them was the only thing that kept me strong enough to bear it

they were so worth every drop of blood,
not a drop was wasted. . . in my eyes their value is infinite
i could not leave them enslaved by independence,
shackled by pride
perishing and unaware
they needed me and i loved them deeply, to the death
and beyond


for me this is the heart of Christ on Good Friday.
this is what the Bible tells me about Good Friday
this is what happened
this is good??
this sounds bad
this should be Black Friday
my daughter thinks 'murderous mob Friday' (all the ones shouting for his death)

you may say this is hard to believe
you may not be comfortable
you may think i'm crazy
you may not care
you may be in tears, thinking of him
you may want to kiss his feet

however you feel,
belief or disbelief,
nothing changes the truth
not rejecting it
not ignoring it

nothing diminishes Love
not disregard
not pride
not indifference

Today WalMart was not open
no cheap chocolate was bought
the grocery stores were dark
the dollar stores were empty
But the sacrifice of Christ was reflected upon and appreciated by many
and that is good but the joy of Easter isn't in the death
for there is nothing joyful in that.
its in celebrating the resurrection,
and that is really good.

St. Patrick's Breastplate. . . an eloquent prayer

When i was a kid, all i ever thought of at St. Patrick's Day was wearing green and Shamrock Shakes at McDonalds.

When i was a young adult, all i ever thought of at St. Patrick's Day was the day i delivered our stillborn daughters.

Now, as a middle aged woman, I have discovered there is more to this day than what i associated it with or how i felt because of it



Patrick (Padraig) was captured as a teen, sold into slavery. He escaped after 6 years of slavery and made his way to France, where he became a monk and returned to Ireland in 432, as a missionary. He made many converts to Christ among the Irish tribes. This is only a bare bones summary of his life.

I love the prayer of "St. Patrick's Breastplate". . its lyrical and beautifully spiritually authentic. This is my prayer, i love it - I have excerpted it here . . its quite long.


I bind unto myself today
the strong Name of the Trinity
by invocation of the same,
the 3 in 1, the 1 in 3


i bind this day to me forever
by power of faith, Christ's incarnation
His baptism in Jordan river,
His death on cross for my salvation
His bursting from the spiced tomb
His riding up the Heavenly way
His coming at the day of doom
i bind unto myself today


i bind unto myself today the virtue of the starlit Heaven
the glorious sun's life-giving ray, the whiteness of the moon at even
the flashing of the lightning free
the whirling wind's tempestuous shocks
the stable earth, the deep salt sea around the old, eternal rocks


the power of God to hold and lead
His eye to watch, His might to stay
His ear to harken to my need
The wisdom of my God to teach
His hand to guide, His shield to ward
The word of God to be my speech
His Heavenly host to be my guard

against all Satan's spells and wiles
against all false words and heresy
against the knowledge that defiles
against the heart's idolatry
against the wizard's evil craft
against the death wound and the burning
the choking wave, the poisoned shaft
protect me, Christ till thy returning


Christ be with me, Christ within me
Christ behind me, Christ before me
Christ beside me, Christ to win me
Christ to comfort and restore me
Christ beneath me, Christ above me
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger
Christ in hearts of all that love me
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger

I bind unto myself the Name, the strong Name of the Trinity
by invocation of the same, the 3 in 1, the 1 in 3
by whom all nature hath creation
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word
Praise to the Lord of my salvation
Salvation is of Christ, the Lord

23rd birthday

Today is the 23rd anniversary of our twin daughters' 'birthday'.
I often feel sad on this day.
Today is new, but so far I don't feel sad.
We will never forget Keely and Fiona.
One day we will see them both at last.

right down to the real nitty gritty

there's something about being squeezed in the vice of pressure.
you'd think you'll be crushed
and in some ways you are
but paradoxically, you may feel as if you've never been stronger.

i've had occasion to step into another person's shoes literally for a week and a half.
i have 'become' her for all intents and purposes and i don't think i've ever had more respect for the myriad of things she does in her high pressure job. you know that old saying about never really knowing someone until you walk in their shoes. . . so true.

funny thing about being pressed to your limits,
you discover things about yourself that you would never know otherwise.
things like:
i can make it through this day
i can do this
one task at a time
prioritize or be paralyzed
think
call upon the knowledge you've taken in
don't be afraid to fail
if you do, get back up
take help
learn from your mistakes
breathe
don't give up

as i've been thinking through what all of this is teaching me both professionally, emotionally and spiritually i feel depleted and worn, but at the same time, more vital and energized.
at some rock bottom moments, when panic tries to overtake me, boggles my mind and threatens to shut me down. . . i reach past it and i ask for help. . . on the job to others who can help me and in my spirit i reach to God who gladly gives me strength at my absolute weakest. . .
I'm still in a swirl of chaos, but in it i am changed and able. .
it feels nothing short of miraculous.

Quirks!

I was thinking this morning, as i flossed and brushed my teeth, of how i always start brushing on the top upper right part of my mouth. . without fail. So i purposely switched this morning and started on the bottom left. it was weird. . threw me off. Then as i worked today, i thought of all the little strange things i do and this mental list started growing.



i can't throw out greeting cards. . i have been saving cards since i was 15 -- people signed their names or wrote personal messages!

i accumulate huge amounts of paperwork in a pile on top of the filing bin and wait till the pile begins to tip before i file it.


i read several books at once


i have this thing for buying the latest fitness DVD - its like a fever. . must have them!!

i take my beverages with me throughout the house and absentmindedly leave them wherever i stop


i must smell the dishwasher soap tablet before it goes in the machine


i don't drink coffee, but i often take the lid off the coffee container, to smell it


i will leave a few spoonfuls of food on my plate and say i can't eat any more, which drives my husband crazy!


i get my knickers in a twist over misspellings and grammatical errors


i must do a spider check every night before going to sleep


i often have to leave the room when people eat with their mouths open or make 'smacky' noises with their lips


i leave unironed clothes in the utility closet, where they remain for many months


i always try to get out of cutting up the broccoli and lettuce on grocery day

i can't sleep if the closet door is ajar

if i hear a funny line, i find the need to repeat it out loud while laughing.

i don't like talking on the phone

conversations with and comments made by anyone on an average day remind me of songs lyrics

i can't walk slowly

i can't stand getting gas and always try to get out of it

i can never go to bed early - i seem to be incapable of turning in at a decent hour

most times when i go to hum a song, its "I Can't Make You Love Me" by Bonnie Raitt - i don't know why. . its a beautiful song, but there are many beautiful songs and you'd think once in a while the humming playlist in my brain would change?

Well i think that's enough of me.
How about you? wanna share some of yours???

kick

depression keeps rolling in and settling,
unwelcome
winter doesn't agree with my psyche.
not that it ever has, but i notice it a lot more in the last decade or so.
maybe i need a head shake,
or maybe just a good, swift kick?

i hate when all the things i enjoy, i can't seem to enjoy
reading. . don't want to
baking. . no, not interested
dancing, didn't feel like it tonight. .
writing, not in this state of mind. . .
if i sit down and write something,
i just end up deleting it.
my words are all locked up in my head, i can feel them in there.
they're being unruly and they won't come out.
seems like too much effort.
these ones made it, but they're not 'writing', just complaining.

the weekend was busy and enjoyable.
i had goals and met them.
i was distracted from the blahs by having lots to do.
today, day off work - you'd think i'd be ecstatic?
woke up to a completely open day and i just wanted to crash and do
absolutely nothing. .

yeah, i think i do need that swift kick.

sweet tooth

i was born with not just a sweet tooth
i think every tooth in my mouth must be a sweet one!


potato chips don't tempt me
fries. . .i don't really care for them
nachos? they're okay
pizza? pleh. . its fine
meat is all right. .
cheese -- like, not love it
bread is nice,
rice and potatoes - kinda ho hum but do hit the spot
virtuous veggies, i like

sweets. . . i LOVE.
No, "love" is not too strong a word.

chocolate, pies, tarts, cake, fudgey brownies, caramel, squares, cookies, candies, whipped cream, maple syrup, honey, creme brulee -- gotta stop. . i feel faint.

i often wonder why i can't crave the things that are best for me.

i can't imagine myself having attacks where i would go mad for a hunk of cabbage

where i would down a bag of baby-cut carrots like i pop back the 'sour patch kids' candies (if i let myself buy them).

i wouldn't daydream of opening a veggie stand the way i do of opening a baked goods shop.
i really doubt that i'd salivate over a piece of chicken the way i do over velvety, melt in your mouth chocolate.

If sweet things could impart top-notch nutrition i'd be the Queen of Health!

Instead, i fight against my baser food impulses and try to convince myself that a cuplet of yogurt is a suitable substitute for a gooey, warm chocolate lava cake. pffffft!!!!
Me? i would eat the stupid yogurt AND also have the lava cake later because the yogurt did nothing to assuage my longing for the bad/good stuff.

Instead, i talk myself out of innumerable purchases of naughty items.
but still cave at weak points and purchase enough to make dance classes and kick boxing DVDs a dire necessity.

Instead, i try to make healthier alternatives for the girdle-busting old school baddies. (they often don't cut it, sadly to the point i'd rather do without if i can't have the 'real thing')
Don't even ask me about the cake icing i made yesterday for my granddaughter's "pony" birthday cake! (gobs of soft butter and cups of icing sugar -- what?? did i say that??!!!)
I feel like a culinary jekyll and hyde. .
LOVE the bad
tolerate the good, while waiting to be bad again!!!

I can't remember not being this way.
I KNOW this sweet stuff does me no good, but its so wickedly delicious!!!
I've done 'kicking sugar' stints in the past. . which resulted in headaches, general grumpiness and the inevitable going back.
So now, i don't try to kick it.
I find ways to make peace with the constant tension of being a sweet-toothed person who has aspirations to live healthily.
Right now I have given up sweet snacks and excessive eating in general.
I get to have 1 measly dessert-type thing per week.
For me, its the equivalent of an Everest climb.
This world is not designed for virtue.
It is programmed for vice.
Discipline is hard going.
Watching food network shows is hazardous.
Makes me feel like a 'one eyed-cat peeping in a seafood store'
Baking is perilous.
But I don't feel like myself if i can't bake something.
I can't describe the calming effect it has on me.
My mind always goes to it.
My hands want to be mixing and beating and ladeling.
Whenever i travel, i want to and do hit the bakeries, where i will inevitably size up my goodies against theirs! and sometimes even think mine are better?!!
I want to visit the chocolate shop. the smells! the sights! decadent and dangerous!!
I'll whiz past that 'fry stand' to get some chocolate chip buns from Weil's bakery.
I'll forgo the fast food forever and make perpetual trips to the Cupcake Store.

I am a conflicted woman, but more happily than sadly so.
I continue to fight the good fight. . . trying to quash the desire for sinfully good treats while doing crunches and lunges and 'cardio' , exercising self control, baking less and giving away more, learning how not to eradicate the sweet tooth, but subdue it. . .letting it out of the cage once a week and promptly shoving it back in and barring the door! i had considerable trouble barring the door today after letting it out yesterday for the birthday cake! (confession time. . . i had a bit today after lunch but only a teeny bit). I have to be realistic. . i'm never going to swear off sweeties all together, but I am learning that they're not the boss of me. . . . most of the time!!

dysfunction, function. . . what IS function?

i bring things to light when i feel courageous
i hide them away when i feel like a coward
i confront, i get flak
i run and hide, no flak


i've been in an apathetic chapter for several years now.
hiding. .avoiding flak like the plague
hurts less but hurts more. .

confronting is risky, messy
its also tiring
giving up seems like a good thing?
guess my fear drives me to find ways to avoid dealing with things
journaling
raging
sealing off the rage
eating
baking
eating the baking
listening instead of divulging
avoiding praying
praying with avoidance
is that even praying?

i love being around people
i need to be alone
my heart feels full of compassion, love
it feels contracted and scarred
i feel like a reasonable facsimile of myself most times
other times, not so much
can i make up my friggin' mind?
its exhausting, sliding in and out of connection and disconnection.
each time it gives a jolt

there are some 'buttons', when pressed will release either:
1. a torrent of tears
2. a blast of anger
3. both

and afterwards. . a settling blankness of unresolution that sometimes lingers in a thick, clinging fog and other times blows away like morning mist.
but its never really gone

i'm pretty sure that most people, if they were honest, would confess to living with some degree of dysfunction.
i know there are too many people living with their own unresolved things
weighed down
stubborn
defensive
substituting
transferring
not acknowledging
not communicating
avoiding often messy reality
afraid
tired
self helping
pretending
misuse/abuse
at an impasse
in a trance

no need to live like this
dysfunction in the long run, withers the spirit
weakens the body
and erodes the soul

hot? not?

well,well. . .i'm a fool, yes.
i was beguiled by my senseless ego
someone sent me a facebook 'you're a hottie' invitation today
I do realize that it was a mass invite in order for them to see how hot they were!
Still, it flattered my ridiculous sense of curiosity.
just how 'hot' was i anyway?
curiosity killed the kat?
yes, i admit it -- i wanted to know!
but to find out just how flamin' hot i was *bah!* i had to invite 15 other people to discover how they fared on some arbitrary human judging or computer-generated list.
I even saw a 'top ten hot list' of FB friends to entice me to participate in the hotness ranking.
I thought: "Ooh, they must have been curious too!"

As the application loaded and told me i was in the 'top (#) hotties of (#)friends'
i started to feel uncomfortable
i didn't think i wanted to do this after all.
as i saw pictures of my friends, with numbers assigned to them and my 'hottie-list'-given ability to confer 'hotter' or 'cooler' status upon them,
i became angry
my stupid ego slunk away and my reason and sense came surging forth
thank God.
geez. . .

who am i to 'rank' anybody's hotness?
why do i feel so insecure that i would even want others to rank my 'hotness'?
and how would i feel if i discovered that i was not perceived as hot?

Again, i think women are so beseiged by 'hotness pressure' everywhere in every way.
they may even feel like they're not proper women unless they are regarded as hot.
Oh, i can't go along with that.
I'm not going to belabour the point in a feminist-flavoured rant and
I realize that i'm not exploring new territory here. . lots of people have talked about this mass mania for thinness, desirability, 'hotness' and how such unbalanced fixation messes everyone up, skews thinking, damages bodies, minds, spirits, even takes lives -- dangerous obsession
I don't even like the term 'hot' in reference to people's looks.
Its not a very lovely or forgiving word.
In fact, its rather base.
It doesn't have noble connotations.
beautiful is a much more embracing word. . . it can stretch to fit the whole person and not just cover their epidermis.

"God doesn't make decisions the way you do. People judge by outward appearance, but the Lord looks at a person's heart and intentions." (1 Samuel 16:6)

my momentary lapse in judgement has passed.
the "you're a hottie" application has been deleted from my profile.
friends, men and women. . . i rank you all beautiful, without exception and without preference.