My Fluid Life

Easter Holiday

2008-03-23T22:32:00.000-07:00

Today was one of the better family holidays I have had in a very, very, very long time. People were connecting, the food was good and all around there was a sense of community. My day started out quite unexpectedly dashing. You see, a gentleman I have been seeing posted a dating application on his Facebook page. It seemed like a deliberate rub. So, I did the only sensible thing. I made a Starbucks run for my sister and Brother in law. Once I got to my sister's home, I played with my sweet adorable do-no-wrong niece. We put on her pink coat, her pink booties and her pink hat and went for a walk in the rain. We found several mud puddles and jumped into them at least 5 times each.

Later, we all congregated at my parent's home. It was just perfect. My dad said grace and thanked the lord for the time he has had on earth. My nephew thanked the lord for Easter candy. I thanked the lord for my stubborn heart which I have gotten so good at protecting and also thanked the lord for giving my dad more days in the sun. My uncle Jonathan is an atheist so he wasn't thankful for anything.

Then came the wonderful conversations about atheism, theism, deism, Alexander the Great and Pornography. Just the way an Everett holiday should be. Oh, and we cracked open some potentially amazing but failed to be French wine year 1983. Absolute rubbish. My mom fed Max, the dog, deviled eggs under the table. Ah, bliss. My bliss. Everyone arguing, laughing and being a little nuts.

Thank God for my family.
xoxo,
Worldgirl

Pain

2008-02-09T21:42:00.000-08:00

I miss writing in my blog. Will do so more often, I think. I have been so occupied with life and facebook. What a traitor am I.

Vignettes

2007-07-16T19:16:00.000-07:00

Two Ton Tony Tomatillo is having dental work. I don't have children and I don't have a cavity, yet I will be spending $500.00 for a cleaning and extraction on my flabby tabby. I told him to floss!!! Bad kitty! :)

This weekend, I visited my folks in Olympia. I was wearing a tank top because it was hot. My little two year old niece, Regan, came up to me and pointed to my breasts and said "BOOBS!!!" Yes, I said, those are my boobs. Then she said it again: "Boobs". Again: "Boobs". I said, "look at the kitty cat! Look at the toy mousie on the floor". "Kitty cat, mousie, boobs." At this point, I said, "Yes, these are my boobs and considering where your genetic make up comes from, you'll have a pair of your own someday." She replied, "Boobs".

My friend Marcella's boyfriend returned from Afghanistan with a mangled leg. He is vacillating between keeping it and staying in pain, or loosing it and getting a state of the art prosthetic limb. He is 25 years old. My father is 67 and with a paralyzed leg with the sympathetic nerve system still in tact so he's in constant agony and he is considering loosing his leg. They are not my legs, yet I am so sure I want them both to let go of their limbs to gain freedom. How can I be so sure?

I just finished reading "Reading Lolita in Tehran". It is currently my favorite book. More on this in a different post.

James, I haven't forgotten our debate. I have been fighting a cold. A real disgusting, phlegmy cold.

World Girl

More on Creation

2007-06-09T13:17:00.000-07:00

In response to comments: (James, you've already read this.)

I can see your point of view, and I still believe that even if we don't tell ourselves, "I choose this" We are still choosing it. There's so much more self-realization and power in claiming who we are being, rather than be a victim of circumstances.

There's way more power for me in choosing that I had my relationship with my ex, than saying, "he did this and that to me". My ex was being who he is, and I happened to choose to interact with him. I was speaking with a friend of mine about this relationship, and I said, "Deep down, my gut and my intellect knew (said person) wasn't what he put forward." She said, "I bet you didn't even have to go 'deep down'." To this I say she is right. And yet, I still chose it. And I learned so much from that experience, so much that I didn't know before about myself and about life and what love is.

Everyday I choose to go into work and do my best, because I said so. Not because I must do so. Not because someone is making me, not because I am going along with the flow. I'm here, because I want to be.

I believe in a higher power, or a creator, but I am not convinced this creator is busily holding the strings of all our human lives. We show up in this world as we do, and it is up to us to accept what we are and then create who we're going to be in our life time.

So, life is meaningless, until I create meaning.

Remember that scene in 'The Life of Brian' and a horde of people are trying to deify Brian? He touches a gourd, and the woman next to him takes the gourd and says 'the holy gourd'. She made it all up. She gave meaning to the gourd. The gourd itself, is just a gourd. Outside of its physical parameters, there is nothing to suggest it has high spiritual powers. See? We do that every day. We give meaning to our lives and the gourds that are in it.

Cheers,
World Girl

The Meaning of Life

2007-06-06T08:35:00.000-07:00

The first time I watched "The Life of Brian" I laughed sooooooo hard! I was watching it in England with a group of people who had seen it at least 10 times each. They were all laughing, too. Mainly, they were laughing at me, laughing. It was a great evening. I mean, they saw it anew through my eyes. :) I was struck how that movie points out how easily we create meaning for ourselves in contrast to what something could mean.

When I said "life is meaningless" I meant life only has meaning if we choose to give it meaning. Like when we choose to get up and go to work. Either it has meaning for us, or it doesn't. In fact, most people only go to work to pay bills, not to have fun and create the day into something cool. Most do not follow their hearts and life's meaning is to work to live. I mean, this isn't revolutionary stuff, it's just the way I see it. My life is created every day through my choices. Until I act as a creator, there is no meaning to it, until I bring the meaning.

Does this make sense? So, my dear lovely readers (and I mean that) I am not depressed. Simply looking at each day and saying to myself, "OK, what do I want to create today?"

On Sunday, I could have stayed home and cleaned my apartment more, but to me the meaning of life is spending as much time with those I love as possible. I had an opportunity to spend a day watching a game I initially did not care about with two people I love very much. See? The game wasn't the point, the people were.

Hope this clears things up. :)
Love,
World Girl

PS. I would miss you, too, James if you were gone. And Kevin, you see life the way you do; it does not rub off on me. :) Sorry. I'll keep reading your blog and shaking my head, but I won't get depressed. :)

Gorgeous Sunday

2007-06-03T19:54:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning at 8:30am and cleaned my WHOLE apartment in 2 1/2 hours! Seriously, it had been hit over the head with the ugly stick several times, so this is actually an act of sheer will. Then, I went to the Mariners game with my Uncle Paul and my father. The game was awesome; it included many plays that are rarely used and the Mariners won! Then we had dinner at the Wild Ginger, where you never regret spending over $100 on food. So good. Now, I am sitting in my clean apartment, listening to the thunder roll in thinking how glad I am to have meaning in my life. Don't get me wrong, there is no meaning or point to life. It is simply what we decide it will be. Now, I am waiting for the rain to start splattering the ground. I will go out and dance in the storm. And although , life is meaningless, I will refrain from standing under trees or grabbing onto metal.

Over and Out!
World Girl

Powerful Quote - one of the best I've ever heard.

2007-04-21T16:26:00.000-07:00

"For it is often the way we look at other people that imprisons them within their own narrowest allegiances. And it is also the way we look at them that may set them free."

Amin Maloof

Faith

2007-02-26T23:16:00.000-08:00

Thursday I fell ill with the Flu. I was so sick, I couldn't keep down water. I canceled my business trip to Miami, and laid around all weekend. Friday night, as I was lying there suffering, my friend Jayne called and asked if I needed anything. She swung by my place with Gatorade, NyQuil and Ben and Jerry's. Sunday I became stir crazy and got out of the apartment. I went over to the U. District and went to the Sunlight Cafe and attempted food. I ordered Blueberry pancakes and a soy latte. I sat there and realized how many memories I had of the cafe. It was the first place I took Greg when we first met. I used to meet Susan and Jerry (now divorced) at the spur of the moment. I suddenly had the urge to move out of state. Either Maui or New York. Definitely wanting to run away to one extreme or another.

I feel alone and sad. My father's situation is not good and work politics are tough. I felt like crying. I had a few bites of pancake and gave up.

I went over to Whole Foods to get a few goodies for Jayne to say thank you. As I was cruising through the cracker isle, a well dressed woman doing her shopping grabbed me by the arm and said, "God loves you very much." She smiled so wide and her eyes were so soft around the corners. She must have been in her early 60s and seemed completely normal. She repeated, "He loves you, he really does." I thanked her and mumbled that God loves her too, and smiled and begged off. I was shook to the core. I ran to the tea isle and broke down.

It is always a time for faith, but now more than ever. I am so glad that stranger touched my life and reminded me that I am loved, as are we all when all hope feels gone.

World Girl

The Door

2006-11-22T14:25:00.000-08:00

I have been standing at a door for ten months. On the otherside was either life the same or life different. Today, I had the courage to open the door and found life would be the same.

I am so grateful for this sameness. I am so grateful for my life. I am so grateful for my health, my friends, my family, my adorable kitty, my job, my city, the rain fall, the snow in the mountains, the beauty of the whole world....minus all the evil of war, famine and hatred.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Love,
World Girl

Glum, Blue, Down in the dumps depressed

2006-11-13T14:41:00.000-08:00

I think the gray overcast is getting to me. The chilly air is more punctuated and quick. I am officially glum, blue, down in the dumps depressed. Nothing seems worthwhile, nothing has meaning. Just plain Blah.

My dad's leg remains paralyzed, but he seems to be in a good mood, as things are still getting done.

This past weekend my friend Erica and went to the Mix 92.5's Retro concert. We jammed out to Boyz II Men and Sir-Mix-A-Lot. Baby Got Back, Baby. We snuck into the VIP lounge where the radio station was wooing the concert supporters. I mean, it was a free concert; you had to win the tickets (lik my friend Erica did). We had drinks and appetizers....we giggled....we got away with it. We started the evening at Ruths Chris Steakhouse and had several pear martinis. Damn they were good. I regret nothing....the hangover was worth it.

Saturday, she and I went to Edmonds to listen to Rick Steves talk about Italy. When someone in the audience said, "I'm from Virginia" he said, "Thank you Virginia! Oops, I just outed myself". I guess ole Rick is a democrat. Made me giggle. He is an awesome speaker, and I'm looking forward to my trip to Italy next summer.

Sunday, I went to a play that Erica had a minor part in; Alice in Wonderland. It was bone-crushingly bad. After her scene, I got up and left. Even for children's theater, it stunk to high heaven. I only have so many hours in a weekend, and I'm not going to spend them watching kids forget their lines.

I watched way too many episodes of Grey's Anatomy. God, that shows bad. Sigh. But I'll watch the rest of season two tonight. How depressing is that?

World Girl

The Early Morning Phone Call

2006-11-03T10:14:00.000-08:00

Those early morning phone calls are never good. I mean, my sister will call me at 5am to ask me how I am doing, just cause she's up, but usually early morning phone calls mean bad news.

There have been complications with my dad's surgery. His leg is paralysed from the knee down. I asked him what his thoughts were, and he thinks it is due to swelling around the nerve. He believes he'll be able to walk on it again, but it will take months of rehabilitation.

I wish I could do something to cheer him up. Something tells me, he can't be cheered up. If he has a problem walking, it may compromise his last few months at work. I know how much he wants to finish out the year.

I'll be driving home tonight.

World Girl

A Reprieve from Cancer

2006-11-02T17:42:00.000-08:00

There's the good news. My father had surgery today on his cancer that went very well. They took a biopsy of the tumor because they may be able to develop a way to specifically treat his cancer. Then they froze the rest of the tumor. I phoned my mom all day until he was out of surgery. Things look like they may work out.

I spoke with my father last night. He has stopped making me promises about how things are going to be OK. He has stopped because he no longer knows. I want so badly to say or do the right thing, so he knows I am always there for him, that he is an amazing father, that he is tremendous. Why do my words fall short?

My father is retiring from over 40 years as an anesthesiologist. He spent his whole career with one hospital, one group. When I was in first grade, we moved to Salt Lake City for the year, while my father co-authored a text book for the University of Utah. Come January, he may not work as a doctor again. I sense he is heartbroken. He is and always will be passionate about medicine and science and helping people heal.

The hardest part in all of this change is him withdrawing. He pulls away just when he should be reaching out the most. I do the same thing. A lot of humans do.

All I can do is continue to love and support him, even if I feel lost.

World Girl

On a Porch in Kona, HI

2006-11-01T19:39:00.000-08:00

Chickens in the yard circle
200 year old avocado tree.
Lush downward slope of green upon green hills
leading to shores edge where mist blurs
the view in a milky white haze and
sunlight pierces in pinhole places.
Ocean and sounds of waves obscured. Splashing muted.
Below porch with twining magenta flowers, sounds of happy birds,
fat round hanging avocados, plump oranges
while rain mists my face.
I long for you, my love. You.

Happy Halloween?

2006-10-31T13:54:00.000-08:00

I'm home sick today. And just as I suspected, my cat doesn't move from 8am-6pm. He hasn't removed himself from the bedroom to eat or potty. He just hibernates for nearly 12 hours a day and then cuddles next to me all night, purring and demanding attention. Who needs a stay-at-home husband, when I have a stay at home tiger. Or loaf. He's a stay-at-home loaf. A Tony Loaf.

Anyway, I just have a head cold. However, my co-workers made it clear I was not to come to work and spread my germs everywhere. Sigh. I've never stayed home because of a stuffed up nose, but it is nice and novel. Perhaps I will get better sooner, by resting more. We'll see.

My friend Imke wrote me. The 33rd annual Byron Conference is taking place in Venice, Italy this coming summer. ROCK AND ROLL i'm gonna go....Should be lots of fun. I'm sure Imke will be presenting, as she has just completed her PhD in Romantics. I'm totally thrilled, and I plan to go for at least 10 days. I want to be able to travel some, and attend the conference.

I am also planning to buy a digital camera, very, very soon. My friends Aubrey and Sean are giving me wonderful advice. Aubrey, is a generous person, and he has a lens he thinks he can give me, and another he would sell. I'm pretty sure I'm going to get the Canon 300D upon Aub's suggestion.

I'm restless. Being at home with the sun shining and it being Halloween. I was supposed to go to a party and to a concert. Alas, I shall remain home, blowing wads of snot out my nose into Puffs tissues. I have rented the BBC version of the Office and Emma (Jane Austin, of course). I didn't want to watch a horror film on my own. I get too scared and then have to sleep with the lights on. No kidding.

World Girl

Fall

2006-10-29T17:02:00.000-08:00

As I have said in many a post, I love Fall. My apartment building is located on a ridge facing west. As I look down my street from my living room window, there are rows of trees so gorgeous, so lovely in their transition from green to gold. The sun is setting and rays of light burst through the spaces between houses and apartments casting a brilliant sheen all over the glorious scene. So crisp and intriguing. It begs for life to be reborn. And it will.

World Girl

Fluidity of Life

2006-10-29T14:27:00.000-08:00

If life is truly fluid, then my greatest fault is nostalgia. I fight the fluidity; I look back with delicious yearning at what has been my past.

I have been doing this with more frequency. Riding an elephant at age 15 in San Diego, leading the charge at school dances in 8th grade, fearless in my pursuit of acting and performing, riding the back of a moped around Saigon streets, writing as if it didn't matter what people thought, my first poem which was about living passionately....being able to do the splits.

This morning while showering, as usual, the pressure and the temperature of the water changed on me going from toasty warm to chilly. Usually, I will step out of the stream and wait for this mood swing to pass. As the transition began, a trace smile crossed my face and I remained in the steam, allowing myself to dally in the memory of Ecuador. In Ecuador, there were no warm showers to be had, even when I was reassured there would be.

During the Festival of water my friends and I had travelled to Villecabamba; about 30 minutes by bus south of Loja, where I was living. We stayed just outside of town, along a river with lush green banks. The accommodation was a treehouse with one room, in which 10 of us would roll out our sleeping bags. There was a kitchen to one side, and a toilet (with a door) on another. The shower was outdoors; a wooden stall with a wooden latch. The bottom of the shower was just grass.

During the festival, I had been attacked repeatedly by young boys with water balloons. At one point, two of them lifted me into the town's fountain. I was cold and drenched with dirty water. When we returned to our place, I went for a shower. Upon lifting the latch to the shower, I noticed that many spiders made their home along the inside walls and around the shower head. I was a different woman at 23; I stepped in, gingerly, and proceed to work my shower around the other 8-legged inhabitants. The water never warmed. I stood rinsing shampoo and soap using minimal movement; the hair on my body standing to attention with the cold and the spiders.

Then another memory came up. My friend Rebecca and I were travelling around the parks in Ecuador. We were in one, that followed a river. The river moved at a good clip and was filled with enormous, gray boulders. At one point, we came along a waterfall. We took pictures. Then, we got in the river and took pictures. I don't remember who suggested it, but we then decided to take naked pictures of each other while in the water. The water was icey. I had my back to the camera, my knees pulled up to my breasts and I was looking over my shoulder. To date, it is one of my very favorite pictures of me. My eyes are relaxed in the corners, but alive with thought; my hair is plastered to my head; there are beads of water dripping down my back and there is one drop of water that is resting on my top lip in the middle of its heart. My mouth is slightly open. I look like a goddess. I remember the the rough feel of the rocks surface on my thights and bottom and the pull of the river and the longing I had to let the river take me.

Those were some days. No tv, no internet, no distractions, no limits. Just life in the moment.

Life has inevitably been like a river; I have been pulled along sometimes fighting sometimes giving in. The water in my shower returned to a steamy heat, and I came back not only to my one-bedroom apartment in Seattle, but back from the confrontation of such emotions that are evoked when I think of the adventure I have danced with in my life.

I am at the moment, cherishing today. It is a brusque fall afternoon; dark clouds move quickly through the sky and the trees are shimmering with amber leaves. Loosened leaves dance around the busy streets and the rain comes and goes. The weather has me move the thermostat up just a notch, put on some tea, light a spicey scented candle and write, like I don't care who is reading.

World Girl

Intimacy

2006-08-05T10:23:00.000-07:00

'Intimacy' was a film that came out in 2002; it is a French film set in England. The movie starts off with a portrayal of a divorced father, who works as a bar keep and lives in a slovenly apartment in London. The viewer is taken through his morning routine of cigarettes and coffee, when suddenly the door bell rings. He answers and it is a woman of a non-descript nature. She comes in. He gives her a cup of coffee and without much ado they begin to fuck. It is a graphic scene; it verges on porn. Then she gets up and leaves. This scene is repeated a few times until one day the man spies his lady walking about with her children. He discovers that she is married and works in the theater as an actress. Her husband is an obese, slow man who works as a cab driver. The lover then plays a passive aggressive role in her life outing her affair to her husband who has been through it all before. The woman reassures her husband that she's not going to leave him. The husband seems angry and relieved that he is not going to loose his adulterous wife. The lover and the wife have one more spasmodic fuck and the movie ends.

This movie received a lot of attention when it first came out, as it was supposed to be cutting edge. I watched it at home a few years ago, remembering the commentary and the hoo-wha that surrounded it. I asked myself, so the intimacy was only real as long as they didn't really know each other? The intimacy was created in the space of that dirty London apartment and it gave the characters space to really be close? I didn't see it. I actually didn't see anything but heartbreak in that movie. There wasn't any intimacy; they were all horribly lonely.

When Balash and I broke up, my friend Chris said to me, "I want you to think about the kind of relationship you want versus the person you want to be with." At the time, words like adventure, passion, and play rolled off my tongue. Actually they sort of eked their way out over the voice of cynicism. I didn't believe I could have a relationship that was all those things. I thought I had a relationship like that, and my partner turned about to be a manipulative liar and cheat. I couldn't fathom having a relationship that would be everything I could want. Then it occurred to me. The kind of relationship I want is one of simple intimacy.

Recently, I saw the Tony award winning musical 'Pippin'. The music was just OK. The story in its onset was just OK. Pippin, the main character, actually annoyed me with his naivete and ego-centric passion for living. All around him were characters set to make his life seem real with so much fanfare and bravado. He went through his warrior phase, his debauch phase, his artistic phase, his whatever phase. He tried and did it all. It wasn't until the end when he was offered true love and a stable life that he finally found happiness, connectedness and fulfillment. The troupe of characters who wanted him to continue to live as a grandiose person (shoot himself into the sun, to be percise), stripped him and his love bare of their costumes, make-up and wigs. The tore the set apart so there was nothing left but a stark look at what is like to be just yourself without any gimmicks or facades in front of the world and the one you love. I cried. I was choking on my tears. I was startled and embarrassed at my emotion. There it was. Intimacy.

In wanting that, I look at my past and see where it has been nearly bare of that way of being, of that closeness. With Balash, I must acknowledge that there was none. You cannot have intimacy with someone who is incapable of telling you the truth or is never themself. Outside of this relationship, there have been moments of intimacy, and I remember my fear in those moments. I remember running, I remember wanting more.

That is the relationship I long for. Whether the relationship is a frantic adventure, I care not. I simply want to love and be loved for no reason at all.

World Girl

Little Miss Sunshine

2006-08-05T10:07:00.000-07:00

I went to see this movie last night. It was brilliant. Balash discovered it some months ago, when we were still together. He was excited to see it. We were excited to see it.

http://www2.foxsearchlight.com/littlemisssunshine

It starts off with the family coming together from their different lives, attempting to come together as one. The unifying force that puts them on a yellow VW Bus (every so reminiscent of a yellow submarine) is the daughters acceptance to a beauty pagent, the Little Miss Sunshine competition. The road trip starts off to Redondo Beach, CA with the mother and father on the verge of divorce and bankruptcy, a son who has discovered Nitche, wants to be a navy pilot and has taken a vow of silence; a grandfather who has a heroin addiction; and an uncle who is the premier scholar on Proust in the US who has just attempted suicide because of unrequited love to his gay lover. It's simply beautiful!

As the movie rolled along with stops and starts of the relationships and the bus, I laughed and laughed. When the final scene came around I laughed so hard, that I started to sob. The sting of recognition in the little girl Olive, competeing in a beauty pagent was all to familiar to me and my attempts at dance teams, and stage performances as a young woman. The sting was the most beautiful of all.

Go see it.

World Girl

Getting Over It

2006-07-29T13:13:00.000-07:00

Getting over it, is what we all must do when we fall in love, have our hearts broken and are forced to move on. Getting over it or the more curt, "Get Over It!" is the mantra of our age. Don't like the president? Get over it! Don't like your job? Get over it. Don't like your boyfriend cheating on you with a twenty year old drug addict in a different city for the duration of your relationship? Get over it.

Getting over it is a process in which one grieves it all out, though. It requires the patience of friends and family, of co-workers and of yourself. The grief itself is a living, breathing animal that lives inside you. Not unlike an alien....Sadly, it is best to just let it burst out of your chest, and let you die. But then again, that's why I love the phoenix. It dies and rises from its own ash.

One of the hardest things I have had to do this year is grieve my failed relationship with Balash. I discovered he was living a double-life. One with me and one with another woman in Vancouver, Canada. He pretended to have a moonlighting job in Denver and every other weekend went to 'work' there. Around February, I knew in my heart that he was being unfaithful to me. He had become disinterested in sex and me in general. He yelled at me constantly, and I often felt ashamed of my 'paranoia', him truly manipulating my inner most fears. In essence, he took nearly a year of my life and made it into a sham. He promised everything to me, and in reality gave nothing. I find writing about it so difficult. I find grieving a moment to moment thing.

He actually wanted to stay with me. I actually spent three months trying to figure out whether I could go on being with him. Could love have actually existed within the constructs of what he built our relationship on? And how am I to blame? I stepped over things that were inconsistant, I ignored the obvious. I wanted Balash. I wish he had really wanted me, too.

Now, there is the hum of men around me; I am single and it shows. They swarm, they are kind, they perk up when I enter a room. Being single and being vulnerable creates the space for men wanting to be men to show up. I just wish I could be more interested. I wish I could just let go of the past and bring in somehing beautiful into my future.

I am taking guitar lessons, salsa lessons, wine tasting. I'm doing environmental work, cleaning up my local parks and beaches, I am looking after my family, I am stepping up at work, taking on more projects. I want to get back to working with adults illiterates, I want to do more to protect the ocean. I want to continue to put my dive gear together, buying one piece after the next. I am writing more, reading more, lending a hand more to whomever may need it.

I guess that's how it goes. Piece by piece, moment to moment you let go, and you let life take care of itself. I realize that this blog entry is totally self-indulgent. I know I am just one more person, with one more broken heart, who lets the weight of the world victimize her...when it really can't. I know I am responsible for my life. I know these things.

But I plan to get over it. I plan to dust the old ashes of what was me from my shoulders. This is just a step.

World Girl

Eulogy for Morticia

2006-07-02T14:21:00.000-07:00

Today I journeyed to Olympia to look for the wonderful cat that is/was Morticia. My family left for a vacation yesterday, and told me she had been missing for several days. I said I would go and look for her before I joined them on Tuesday.

I looked today with a bag of kitty treats in my hand shaking and calling out her name the way she loves to have her name spoken. After so many years with an animal, you noticed which voice tones they will respond to and which they won't. I looked not so much thinking she would emerge from the blackberry brambles with a meow on her lips, so much as I was searching for her body. She was/is an old kitty, and she was showing her age. I also looked for signs of a struggle, as my parents live in an area where coyotes roam. It wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened. I would just be surprised if it had happened to her.

Morticia was/is a different sort of kitty. She was independent in a way that wasn't adolescent defiance so much as she was secure in her cat-hood. She was a proud huntress, capable of catching nimble prey. Out of all the cats my parents pretend to own(of course because the cats own them...), she would be the one most likely to survive on her own in the wild. She drank from the lake, prowled the wilder parts of the property and loved attention, but never demanded it.

As I stared out over the field of tall, golden grass in the horse field across from my parent's place, I wondered if she knew what she meant to our family. How much joy, laugher and love that she, a single kitty brought to a house which often sits under a cloud of melancholy, sickness and darkness. Her purr and meows were sprightly in tone. She knew a game when she saw one and would play eagerly willing to fell blows with her sharp claws on any who dared challenge her. She accepted love and attention, but never sought it out. Her independence as a creature was fairly complete.

What I wish is that she has sought some new adventure in her life. That the blackberry brambles had been explored to the point where she was ready to move on into the woods and beyond looking for a new life, a new home and whatever else her heart desired. Perhaps, she had finally transitioned into a wild cat and could see no point returning to her domesticated life.

I write with tears in my eyes. I would have loved to have said goodbye. If she had been human, she would have pshawed me greatly, a look in her eye that would say 'don't you know that life in its circular motion is also never ending'? Memories do not end, but surface when we need them most. There are no real goodbyes in life.

I too long for a new adventure. I too, look not to be defeated in the face of domination, but to rise up again, like the phoenix, breathless for life and the journey it holds. A relationship has ended, when I thought it would not; my father's cancer has returned when I thought it would not; my life is, what I thought it would not be. I am running full speed into 33 years, ever grateful for everyone one of them, and determined not to squander the beautiful moments that are given to me. Who knows? Maybe I'll run into Morticia on a slow boat to China, or meet her at the running of the bulls in Pamplona, or dashing through the jungles of India or Brazil. Anything and everything is still possible.

I am willing to say yes everyday with an open heart, and maybe someday, someone will call my name the way I like to be called and I will answer.

World Girl

Oh Summer, My Summer Where Art Thou??

2006-06-14T18:51:00.000-07:00

Not here in Seattle that is for sure. Summer is resisting joining us for a few months. Everyday, there is a mist over the city, cloud banks ensconcing the Olympics and a wind that makes you pull your sweater around you. It is June! It is Summer!!! The shift is slow to let go of wet spring and let the youth of the warm sun play and dance. I want to play and dance, too. Come sun, bring yourself forward! Your children await you!

World Girl

Life comes full circle faster than it used to.

2006-05-30T18:47:00.000-07:00

Not so long ago, I wrote about Balash and my love for him. What do I do with myself now that his presence is not in my life? True, I broke up with him. True, he gave me some very good reasons to break up with him. Yet....I miss his spirit. I miss his smile and giggles, his thoughtful way of looking at the world. What I don't understand is how he could not have been thoughtful of me.

I don't feel like doing much of anything. I have forced myself to work-out, see friends, do things. But I don't wanna. I want my life back with Balash and I cannot have it. Not one place in my hear or brain trusts him.

The sun is shining, though. I read a book this weekend called, "Life of the Beloved: Spiritual living in a secular world". It moved me to make peace with what is so between Balash and myself. To generate peace, instead of anger. Doesn't always work. The author said it wouldn't always work. :)

Long time without word,
World Girl

I'm a geek!! Hurray!!

2005-11-02T08:46:00.000-08:00

It's official. I am a geek. Or maybe it was official a long time ago, I don't know, but on NPR today they said Strunk and White's Elements of Style was getting a make-over. And how so! It has been illustrated by Maira Kalman and made into an opera. For more details, see:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4985137

I'm enthralled, because I suggest this book to writers of all ages. An illustrated version will give access to those who aren't quite at the books reading level. Hurray!

World Girl

Insomnia

2005-10-28T09:46:00.000-07:00

To sleep, per chance to dream. And when I dream they come at me with strange visions, which wake me. Not night terrors per se, but disturbing anyway.

This morning, I woke sandwiched between my boyfriend and my cat. They were both breathing deeply, a sign that they were sleeping peacefully. Restful conscience. Mine is all a twitter with anxiety. Have made the right choices? How do I make myself a better human being? What if my job doesn't pan out? What will I do? What if my relationship tanks? What if we're not as compatible as we thought? What if he gets bored?

My whole life, I have never let myself be good enough, happy enough, assured enough. Calm. I have never let myself be. This Fall and Winter there will be some shifts in my way of being; there will be shifts in my choices. A revolution is at hand and that makes me smile; I am able to fall back asleep.

World Girl

Yesterday I turned 32 years old.

2005-09-28T11:53:00.000-07:00

What a birthday it was, too. I am sure no other birthday will be quite like it.
World Girl

Fear

2005-09-22T13:03:00.000-07:00

He called today, to say he missed me, but that we need to slow down a bit. I know it, too. It wasn't like something I wasn't feeling myself. Perhaps it's a good thing for both parties to be in the same space about a relationship. But I am afraid. I am afraid that he is having doubts, that there is someone else, that I'm not good enough.

It has only been two months, and the relationship has been all at once. I have been living at his place (not permanently) for nearly two weeks. I am ready to be in my own space again.

I've never been very good at being patient. Perhaps, now is a good time to be just that.

World Girl

A Subtle Change

2005-09-10T18:09:00.000-07:00

Fall crept into the trees last night. Orange, red and yellow dust over the green leaves and the air has a minute chill. The sun is shining, but it is just for show. It will pull its warm blanket from us little by little over the next week, and we will officially be in my favorite season.

Hurray!!

World Girl

Resistance is Futile

2005-09-10T17:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, just as I was leaving work, I phoned my massage therapist and made an appointment for the next day, 3pm. I wasn't sure why I was doing it, as I usually see massage as a way of rewarding myself for working out hard, or to relieve pain from an injury. I am neither injured, nor have I been working out very hard.

As I was having my muscles rubbed, my mind kept telling me to relax, that I just needed to let the stress melt away. But my mind was having none of that. Instead, it was doing all kinds of parlor tricks to keep me from acknowledging what I was really feeling: sadness.

Why would someone with a blooming relationship, a great new job and a healthy family and gorgeous city to live in need to be sad? Besides, I told myself. I need to be up beat when my friend comes to visit me, and I need to be upbeat for Balash, because he has been feeling down and I have no excuse for feeling like crying.

Then I realized the futility of it all. Resisting being sad, only it made it more painful. Resisting anything makes anything more painful, a struggle, misery. The minute I gave myself permission to feel sadness, there were some tears that came to my eyes, but more over, I felt relieved. It was OK to be human.

Then I took a look at what else in my life I was resisting that was exhausting me. I discovered I expend energy resisting being fat, ugly, sick and lonely. It all translates into a hectic mode of being that keeps me chasing my tail. Never loosing any weight, never giving myself the chance to feel beautiful and above all never letting anyone get close. What a surprise that might be to my loving boyfriend.

The worst of my resistance comes in the form of my self-expression. The more I resist my life, the less I express myself. I don't spend time writing in my blog, I don't practice my voice, I put off exercising and most awful of all, I don't speak. I had my first meeting at work the other day, and I had so much to say, so much that I am knowledgeable about that I didn't jump in and share. All because I felt I was too new. I kept whispering in my mind "don't say anything, don't say anything, don't make the other coordinator feel threatened by you." No wonder I made an appointment with my massage therapist. It gave me a chance to confront myself.

When my self-expression suffers, my whole life shuts down. When I don't use the courage I know I have, my life because less delicious. Life has always occurred for me as a buffet for us all to dine on, to explore and cherish. It is so easy to forget that, when we resist any part of us. The biggest travesty there is, is to shut ourselves down and not really BE with people.

I resist no more. Right now, I am sad, I am fat, I am ugly, I am afraid. I give up resisting so that I may emerge on the other side, and taste the sweetness of life once more.

World Girl

Luck

2005-08-08T12:34:00.000-07:00

I never believed in luck, per se, despite saying often enough, Gosh that was lucky, or wow that person is lucky. I always thought luck was something contrived to make us not belive in God or to think that somehow we didn't deserve good fortune or that we weren't in control of our lives. I think that luck seems like an easy way of getting out of something.

But I feel lucky. Everytime I see him, everytime I laugh with him, hug him, kiss him, I feel like I am the luckiest woman in the world. What did I do in my life that would give me the opportunity to love him? I'm certainly don't feel I've ever done anything heroic that would grant me the privilege to spend my days being his. But that is what I want to do.

World Girl

Oh yeah...

2005-08-01T14:50:00.000-07:00

I have a new job. I start August 15th. Huge pay raise, increase in duties and excitment in the clinical trial world.

World Girl

"Lovers Have Such Seething Brains" Shakespeare

2005-08-01T12:19:00.000-07:00

I have gone mad.

I've been mad before, but this time I have gone mad with taste and restraint. Is it madness, then? Yes! Oh yes, it is a sweet, delicious madness that I have never known.

My heart has fallen off a cliff into the deep, blue void of love, and I am happier for it. I just think about the time when I get to be with him again, when I get to feel his fingers pull through my hair, when I get to taste is lips and soft tongue.

He makes me LAUGH and GIGGLE and SMILE with abandon. No one has ever done that. I am ready to accept love and to give love as much as he wants, and if he should ever not want me, that will be OK, too.

Now, if only I can find it in me to be patient. I'll be good. I'll be good.

Madness becomes me, I think.
World Girl

His Name Is Balash

2005-07-27T13:37:00.000-07:00

His name is Persian, an ancient name, one of a king who did mighty things and took a mighty fall. He isn't like me, yet we are so alike. He is a funny, little man with eyes that capture his undaunting spirit and beauty. I look into his eyes and I see worlds forming. I want to be in those worlds with him.

When I'm not with him, I think of him. When I'm with him, I don't see anyone else. When he wants to treat me like a woman, a place inside me just melts. All the hard steele nuggets of resentment towards men and money, become pools of clear liquid. I love being treated like a woman, by a man, so real to me. When I paid for our last dinner, he begged me not to. Then he said, "This time it is OK. But don't ask to in front of my friends. And don't steal the pleasure from me."

Oh Balash. My Balash. I know you are mine. I can't believe you are mine. I can't wait for us to take our first diving trip together, I can't wait to run beside you, I am so eager to travel the planet in search of adventure with you. I can't wait to edit more of your stories and share literature with you. What a life I desire to have with you...I'll keep it my secret for now.

World Girl

Addendum To Seafair

2005-07-17T21:41:00.000-07:00

I just bought a book called, Slow, Fat Triathlete and on the cover has woman about my size, smiling and running along the beach. I laughed so hard at the title and then bought it. The author is a riot. She has me laughing with her, and at myself. She writes that even if a person isn't slow and fat, they can have the mentality that they are. Too, true.

World Girl

Seafair Triathlon

2005-07-17T21:07:00.000-07:00

Today was the Seafair Triathlon. I got there a little late, almost forgot my timing chip, but all in all, had a great time. The swim was longer than I remembered it, the bike was a lot shorter and the run was much better. I run with a watch now; it gives me the opportunity to be more constructive with my running. If I need a break, I can actually time it and not spend too much time walking. I would do five minutes on and if I needed it, a minute off. I wouldn't be surprised if I beat my time from last year, despite not being in as great of shape. Mentally, triathlons get easier and easier, and more and more fun. I'm so glad I got into them. Seafair is by far my favorite. Small in numbers, yet really well organized and staffed. It's funny. When I do a triathlon, I wear the same outfit throughout the event. I swim in my bike shorts, sports bra and form fitting sports tank. When I jump out of the water, I throw on my superwool socks, my running shoes, helmet, glasses and I'm off into the biking portion. When I transition into running, I just rack my bike, take off my helmet, grab some goo and go.

Last year, each time I transitioned into the next portion of the race, my legs would wobble under me, trying to get the next group of muscles coordinated and firing. This year, when I got out of the water, my feet landed firmly below me and I sprinted to my bike. Same with the run. Less time, working out the kinks in my calves and tightness in my quads. I think I'm improving, despite not having a rigorous training schedule.

I was also pleasantly surprised by how much I got hit on after the race. Triathletes in general are chatty. It is a great way to meet new people, doing something really fun. But this year, I noticed how much I was being looked at by men. One who was standing in line for a snack after the race looked me up and down, said congratulations, and would it be Ok if he removed a piece of grass from cheek. He moved in close to do it. I wonder if being a triathlete is an aphrodisiac for a certain set of men? Anyway. I enjoyed the attention.

The sun is setting tonight in a wonderful explosion of color. I'm alone, and I notice that I don't want to be. I notice I would like company, and for the company to be male and to be in love with me and for me to be in love with him. Life really is to be shared. I noticed today that a lot of the participants had someone there to cheer them on, or to help park the car, carry the gear and meet them at the finish line. I noticed I did not. I noticed that I keep people away. I didn't invite anyone, but one of my eharmony matches wanted to come see me. I didn't invite him, because I didn't want him to see me like that. Not yet. The cost of being a worrier about my looks, is that I'm alone. Damn.

World Girl

Let The Triathlons Begin

2005-06-27T20:49:00.000-07:00

This past Saturday was my first triathlon of the season. Last year I did two and fell in love with them. A triathlon gives one such a sense of accomplishment and inspiration. When I completed my firt tri last July, I couldn't believe it. Me. World Girl. Many a thing has been said about me, but being an athlete has never been one of them. Not only did I complete the triathlons, but I did a good job finishing respectfully.

On Saturday, I did the Lake Padden Triathlon in Bellingham, WA. One of the fun things about having done this tri alone, was I got to meet new people. I chatted away those who were racked next to me (Racked means where you have your bike hung. It is your designated transition area.) When I went to warm up, I met all kinds of people who opted not to wear wetsuites. We bonded while shivering. I even met a gentleman who was visiting from New Orleans and decided he would do the tri. Very impressive.

I was in the recreational category, wanting to ease my way into the season. It was a 1/4 mile swim; a 10 mile bike ride and a 2.6 mile run. Swimming is my strong suite, so I plowed throught the 1/4 mile. I swear I was a mermaid in a former life. Then onto the bike ride. The brochure mentioned that the route was a bit "hilly". Ahem. Why, yes it was hilly. The first mile was straight up hill to be matter of fact. Hills kill me when I ride. It just knocks me over. The last two mile of the ride were much worse. The hills were considerably steeper, and at one point I had to get off my bike and push. Wow. Then the run was easy. Easy soft dirt trail. I finished a lot sooner than I thought I would, so I'm quite pleased. Next is Clear Lake on July 9th; Seafair on July 17th, Danskin in August and then if I'm really a bad ass, I'll do an Olympic sized tri in September (1 mile swim; 26 mile ride; 6 mile run).

With visions of hills dancing in my head....
World Girl

Website of the Week.

2005-06-07T15:28:00.000-07:00

www.eHarmony.com

A lot more fun and interesting then I had anticipated. If you're single, ready for a relationship, give it a go for a month. I'm already in communication with a great guy and we "seem" to match up pretty darn well. :)

World Girl

Ding Doh!

2005-06-06T10:15:00.000-07:00

OK, so the date was little anti-climatic for me. Not too surprising since having expectations is a stupid way to go into anything. (By the way, the day after my date, my eye is doing much better. Last night, it was at its worst. I could barely see out of my eye.)

He was funny and cute. He gave me a cd that he had made compiled of Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra and few other goodies. It's a good cd, one I enjoy listening to.

The thing is, he talked soooo much. It wasn't a two-way conversation. I know, I know, guys do that when they're nervous and, well, because they're guys. Guys do that. So does my friend Jayne. I love her anyway.

But I can't totally call it off because of that. He talked about vulnerable stuff. Stuff I wouldn't talk about on a first pseudo date. He talked about stuff in his past he wasn't proud of. We all have that kind of stuff. It was like, he wanted to get it all out there, perhaps for some reason or another. One, he doesn't want to date me, therefore, he tells me things I might not want to hear. Two, he wants me to know it all, so later on, there are no surprises that I might get upset about, because he does like me and he doesn't want to get hurt. Three, that's just who he is, it had nothing to do with me and I should stop analyzing the situation.

Anyway, I'm not put off, but not as giddy and excited as I was before. I'm more excited about my eye responding to antibiotics at the moment (if it didn't, I would have to have surgery that leaves a scar).:)

Here's to the unknown.

World Girl

Addendum #2 to Ding Dong!

2005-06-05T16:38:00.000-07:00

In about 2 1/2 hours, I will be sitting across from a certain gentleman, whom I think is cute and funny. We will be having sushi. I bought a new outfit for the "occasion"(those Old Navy ads finally got to me).

And I have an eye infection. Do I cancel? Everyone said, "Oh no, that's no big deal" but we shall see. My eyelid is swollen and red. I may attempt to match the other eye with the puffy one. You know, hit myself or something. Anyway, I'm excited and nervous and afraid and giddy. Very good, indeed. :)

World Girl

Website of the Day

2005-06-02T10:12:00.000-07:00

www.zappos.com

For the shoe whore in all of us.

World Girl

Addendum to 'Ding Dong'

2005-06-01T12:57:00.000-07:00

Looks like I'll see him this weekend about the cd's. He made me a cd as well, of Sinatra and Dean. Looking forward to hearing what he has picked for me to listen to. If he's a big a fan of Swing, Blues and Jazz, like miss World Girl, I'm going to have a serious crush going on. :)

Ding Dong!

What are you going to do?

2005-05-31T23:13:00.000-07:00

Today I received an email from an old friend who hasn't spoken to me since February. For the third time, he bailed on our friendship for whatever reasons he had.

The email just said one thing. "Thanks."

I still read his blog, because I still care. I still want to see how he's doing, make sure he's OK. You see, he's in Iraq with the Army Corp of Engineers. He's working as an archeologist and he's identifying bones in mass graves. Grueling work both emotionally and physically.

However, before he left, and when we were still friends and my opinion meant something to him, he was sending me chapters of his novel. A fantasy novel. I would read and make comments for better or for worse, and in general, he would listen to me and even delight in some of the things I had to say.

Recently, he wrote in his blog about the things he missed. Some of the thing he had been missing were chapters 10 and 11, because he was finding it hard to write chapters 12, 13 and 14 without them. Fore some reason, he didn't bring a copy of them with him.

I didn't think twice. I contacted his best friend, and asked for his mailing address (I had long since deleted all my emails from him. Everything. Even the ones that had made me cry with happiness). His friend was happy to oblige me. Then I realized that he didn't want contact with me. At all. So, I left the novel on his friend's doorstep, and left note requesting he hang onto it or send it on to him.

Attached to the email today was his novel, including chapters I hadn't read. I haven't sat down to read them, but I will. I wrote back, "You're Welcome."

What else is there to do?

Ding Dong!

2005-05-31T22:40:00.000-07:00

Bridget Jones to Mark Darcy: "You're always haughty, you always say the wrong thing and I seriously think you should reconsider the length of your sideburns. But, you're a nice man....and I like you. If you wanted to pop by sometime, that might be nice."

The first time a met him about a summer or so ago, the first thing we did was fight about the Iraq war. I was against, and he was for. I decided that he was an SUV hugging pig, who had no talent for conversation or social skills.

Yesterday, he, my cousin and I went for a long bike ride. We drove out past Falls City, deep into Washington State Park, where it actually requires a license to go hiking, etc. The drive from Seattle was about 2 hours. He had me laughing the whole time.

When we got to the trail head, he continually made way for me. I was a little timid (If anyone can imagine that), because the trail was rocky and required riding across streams and picking up the bikes to carry them across a "foot bridge" (NOT!! Try a log that seemed to conveniently fall across the creek). Needless to say, I'm not an "off-road" cyclist. But he was always watching my step, and making sure I was OK.

We rode to Monte Cristo, a ghost town that used to mine silver in the late 19th Century. We walked and laughed and mused about the fact that the ghost town consisted not of old, empty buildings, but of signs that read, "The site of the old schoolhouse", "The site of the old doctor's office". They added "old" just in case we might think something from the late 19th Century was new.

We rode back fairly quickly, and then it was more of the same. We laughed and chatted the whole way back to Seattle, and went out for Sushi. He bought me a beer. Insisted I sit on the comfortable side, rather than the seat near the isle where people were always bustling past.

I can't recall everything that was said, only that it was one of the best times I have had in a long time. At the end of the evening, I asked if he remembered the fight we had, had. He did not, and then I went and put my foot in it. I said, "You know, when I first met you, I thought you were a big jerk. But you're not, you're a very nice gentleman." He responded by saying, "Great. Got any single friends?" How Rude! I'm single!!!!! :)

Anyway, apparently he isn't so emphatic about his point of view on the Iraq war, saying sarcastically, "Yes, that was a great idea. We just get better and better at getting our soldiers killed." I don't know what to tell him.

He borrowed a cd. My Ella Fitzgerald Songbook Collection. He'll have to give it back at some point. What are the rules again? I'm not allowed to call or chase him? Eh, I shouldn't be chasing men anyway. Not when I prefer to be caught. :)

World Girl

Quote of the Day

2005-05-28T16:06:00.000-07:00

"Seldom, very seldom does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken." - Jane Austin, Emma

I agree. I think life is mainly fiction of our own making. How will your story go?

World Girl

Sundown at 9:45pm

2005-05-27T23:02:00.000-07:00

Around 7:50pm my stomach told me I was hungry. Hot and muggy, I decided sushi and beer would be the perfect dinner. I headed into Ballard, to Sam's Sushi, where the nigiri is fresh and the rolls the best in town.

Afterward, I was feeling restless. The settling cloak of night air called to be walked through. I drove to Golden Gardens, thinking I would stroll along the boardwalk for a bit, catch the remnants of the sunset and see if there were any bonfires lit.

There were eight bonfires roaring.

The parking lots were full. The beach was crammed with people of all ages. In the night sky a strip of fire hung on the horizon line, lingering and lingering, the sun's refusal to go. People were showing up with coolers and frisbees as if the sun was rising, instead of setting.

The Good Humor man pushed his cart of ice cream along with the intention of out-lasting the die-hards. Kids yelled at each other "That's my rock, get off of my rock". "I'm sandy and soggy, mom, ha ha ha."

I stepped onto the sand and my feet sank into the cool grains. At the water front, people were throwing themselves into the small waves and squealing at the chill. One little girl with long, dark, curly hair held her ground as the surf swept up and over her feet. She smiled, eyes bright and said, "I think it's fine. I do. I'm fine, I'm not cold." Her father looked on proud at his brave daughter.

With wet feet I moved on...and oh life hummed at a brilliant and deafening level.

Two kites still hung in the air, every barbecue spot was taken, roaring and sizzling hot dogs and hamburgers. I heard many languages being spoken: English, Spanish, Vietnamese. Lovers huddled together on blankets and necked unabashedly, old couples held hands and drummers drummed a beat, setting the tempo for this frenetic evening that this city, Seattle, would devour whole. The scene pulsated with the life blood of those who have been yearning for winter to shed its gray coat and for summer to burst through and heat us to the bone.

My heart beats fast. I remember this scene from three years ago. He and I came here with a couple of beers and a blanket. We huddled around a bonfire, wrapped in each other's arms...and we kissed for the first time.

Nostalgic World Girl

Hot is Sexy!

2005-05-27T16:25:00.000-07:00

Seattle. It is now 90 degrees. Yes folks, I believe we have a new record temperature wise, for a May 27th. Some of my southern bound readers may scoff at this moment of rapture, but...this is Seattle!!! People are playing hooky from work, kids are splashing in kiddy pools and the whole green city is gorgeous. There's nothing more beautiful than this city all a glow in sunlight. Granted, the people walking around look like converted vampires, but that will change. Give us a few months.

As for me, the only thing cool enough to wear in my non-airconditioned apartment is some lingerie. I kinda like it. I might make it a common practice. :)

World Girl

Choice Leads to Serendipity.

2005-05-27T12:27:00.000-07:00

I lied. I didn't go to the islands. I didn't go see Orcas breaching off the point of my kayak. I called and cancelled my reservation at the B&B and they said they wouldn't charge me, even though it's their policy to charge a late fee. I didn't have to ask, either. I'll be staying with them, later this summer.

Instead, on Wednesday, I went for a long meandering walk along Alki Point, watched the waves roll onto the beach, people-watched in their many arrays and stressed about work. As I decided what I would do for lunch I knew that nothing would taste as good as a new job.

I sent out my c.v. to 6 different posts that day, and I felt better than I had in months and months. I went for a long jog, I ate healthy, I loved speaking to people rather than hide away.

I began to think of someone who used to work at our site for one of our sponsors. She would always tell my boss what a great asset I was to the company, and that she never had to worry about my work, like she did at her other sites. She praised me to the moon. I considered how I could be in touch with her, to ask advice, request she be a reference etc. Thursday, I had two emails in my personal account from her!!! I didn't even know she had my address. She has questions about the regulatory process, which I am well-versed in. I told her what I was up to and she asked for my c.v. and sent a website with a huge listing of biotech/pharmaceutical jobs.

I am feeling the return of my free spirit, my jouissance I could have sworn was long dead. Nothing is as good as being in action in one's life. Nothing quenches saddness than taking charge, where there needs to be change. What I know now is that job-hunting is my number one priority over everything else. House-cleaning, working-out....blogging. Well, I'm on the computer anyway....:) A new job, continuing education is the key to saving myself from my ridiculous, morose ticking.

World Girl - Wanting to be in the World Again.

And I'm off!

2005-05-25T10:49:00.000-07:00

It's Wednesday, in Seattle and.....the temperature is slowly edging its way towards 80!!!!! OH, and now I'm off to the islands for some fun and relaxation.

Ciao,

World Girl

Woman Seeks Man with Spine

2005-05-22T22:23:00.000-07:00

Tonight I drove from Olympia to Seattle, a span of 64 miles. As I passed along the I5 corridor, past Fort Lewis, Tacoma, Wild Waves Enchanted Park, the turn off for the Seatac Airport, all the way to Fremont, I couldn't help but fume.

I mean, the sky was all lit with brilliant moonlight and the air smells good after the rains. And all I could think about is that men no longer do their jobs.

I, for one and I think I speak for most women when I say this, am sick of doing a man's job. I'm sick of putting out the right signals, getting the ball rolling and being careful of his ego and time, all so that something as simple as a date can happen. I can't tell you how many times I have casually said to a man I thought was cute, "Hey, want to go do something (music, movie, dinner, coffee) and be met with first a stunned, wide-eyed look, followed by a stammer of, "Really? Sure. Yeah, when would you like to go?" I've even misunderstood these looks as lack of interest in me only to have the man follow up on what I said. Isn't it against the rules for me to be doing the asking? Yet, there I am and there they are.

I mean, what happened to men knowing what they want? What happened to them going after what they want? Why are men, more and more, living in pansyland?

I'm sure men will say it is women's fault, that we've emasculated them. To that, I say BULL! Every single human being on this earth has free will and choice.

OK. So this rant is turning into a plea. Men, if you're out there and you're wondering what it is women want, we want you to be self-confident, because we are just dying to be given the opportunity to know you. STOP hiding out in your nooks and crannies. Emerge, grab us by the back of the head and say, "You, me, Friday night". Please???????? If you keep playing the role of J. Alfred Prufrock (worm on a hook routine), we'll never get the chance to love you.

Alas, what comes to mind is the following quote from a song.....

"just lay yourself on the line and I might lay myself down by you but don't sit behind your eyes and wait for me to surprise you
I want somebody who can make me scream until it's funny give me a run for my money
I want someone who can twist me up in knots
tell me, for the woman who has everything what have you got?
I want someone who's not afraid of me or anyone else in other words I want someone who's not afraid of himself
do you think I'm asking too much?" Ani DiFranco, Asking Too Much

In this day and age, probably.

World Girl

"Diving Into the Wreck"

2005-05-22T10:59:00.000-07:00

The poem by Adrienne Rich, "Diving into the Wreck", resonates so clearly to me now in this phase of my life. It has been months since my heart was broken, and on Friday last, I finally acknowledged that I was heart broken. For some reason, I have equated being sad over love lost as a weakness that I must hide. So, I thought I was just fine, when the dishes were piling up, the laundry was over flowing my basket and the dust was collecting in wisps around the apartment. Friday I cried my eyes out and allowed myself to finally be sad about love lost. And Saturday, I cleaned up the wreck. My wood floors shine from all the polishing.

I'm still diving into myself. Where did I make up that loving and loosing was weak rather than brave?

World Girl

The passing of an Era

2005-05-21T15:46:00.000-07:00

My grandfather died at age 93. He beat the pope to the holy land by a few hours. He passed away quietly on April 2nd, 2005. He was my last remaining grandparent, and with him goes an era of my life.

His Memorial was held on May 14, 2005. I thought I had processed the passing of his life, but I found myself tearful and grieving through most of the service. It was amazing to hear stories I had not heard before. My grandfather was a master craftsman, and all around the Bellingham Baptist Church, were benches, stairways, window frames; touches of grace where he had contributed greatly to his community. At the reception following the service, I sat down next to a woman who was in a wheel chair. She said, "Your grandfather made me a bench outside where the bus stops, so that when I needed to rest, I could." If that doesn't sum up the kind of person he was, I don't know what will.

I still have my cooking utensils that he made me as a teenager, a crib that I rested in as a baby, and a painting easel that gave me access to creativity.

My grandfather's photographs of the surrounding Bellingham beauty could rival an Ansel Adams' photo. He was genuinely an artist of many ilk.

Although a devout Christian, he was never a proselytizer. In all my years, he only spoke of religion once to me, and that is when I had asked him about the Bible. He was a quiet man of faith, who practiced daily prayer. He loved my grandmother so much, that he was inconsolable when she died, three years prior to his own death.

It isn't just an era in my life in terms of life transition. Meaning, me being an adult, my parents being grandparents, and my sister having children and my friends all getting married or are married.
It is also the passing of a gentle way of being, a gentle way of loving and a delicate sense of right and wrong. The world is a crazy mess, chaotic in political turmoil and bloodshed. Yet, on my grandparents couch, I could fall asleep soundly, without a thought of what was going on in the rest of the world. It was such a blessing to have grandparents who provided sanctuary in their love and their faith, and in their simple way of being in life. Bicycling to the store, taking books to the jail, teaching bible studies, growing their own food, growing flowers taller than me.....A world without the hyperbolic crush of the modern age.

Perhaps, we all do want to return to the garden, free ourselves of acne commercials, reality shows, the Enron's of the world, the dictatorships, the anger we hold for ourselves because of the choices we make.

The little yellow house in Bellingham, that became the little grey house in Bellingham was my garden.

Where to now?

World Girl

The Smell of Tyranny

2005-05-21T15:17:00.000-07:00

My place of employment had another work function at the illustrious Colombia Tower Club. 76 stories up, one can survey the entire City of Seattle, Puget Sound and Olympic Mountains. From the Women's bathroom one may survey all of the "Eastside" which as the City of Bellevue, Mount Rainier and far down the I5 corridor. The sun broke through clouds in an ethereal dance across the water; truly a sight to make one believe in a higher purpose.

The food is just so, so, but one really isn't there for exquisite cuisine, even at the astronomical prices.

The DJ is playing some nice Sade as we munch our appetizer. And as usual, by boss begins to dance and dragging everyone out of their seats to do likewise. My scenario goes as thus:

Boss: (taps my shoulder and extends a hand).
World Girl: No, I'm not dancing tonight. I'm not feeling well. But thank you.
Boss: You can't say "no" and forces his hand in my direction.
World Girl: Actually, I can say "no" and I'm not dancing tonight. But thank you.
World Girl turns away from boss and continues to munch her Caesar Salad. Her boss stands behind her for awhile, as if she hadn't said 'NO'. Boss finally walks away.

As far as I am concerned, I will never dance with my employer again. Last December, what used to be a comical happence at work events where he dances with his female employees turned into ugly sexual harassment. I genuinely wasn't feeling well on our Christmas cruise ship. My boss approached me and said "Dance with me" and I said no, and he lifted his hand and hit me hard across my butt. It was actually painful and left a mark.

I was later to find out, there were two other such incidences. I wrote to three lawyers, with no reply to my inquiries as to what we could do. I spoke with an HR friend at a different company and she said unless I could prove a pattern, I didn't have a case. So, apparently it is OK for my employer to sexual harass me on occasion, as long as he doesn't go too far, and it isn't a pattern.

Last night, my boss hit another female employee on the ass, and she turned around and said, don't ever touch me like that again. No pattern? Well, he's never going to touch me again. It is a sad fact that I have no recourse about this sort of shit in 2005, but there it is. Instead I send out c.v.s in search of other gainful employment. I'm to the point where giving notice without another job lined up might be best.

Weighing my options looks like this: Poverty and dignity or financial stability?

And I am just one woman, with one story, with the ire of centuries boiling in my veins.

World Girl

New Found Love

2005-05-12T19:12:00.000-07:00

I have fallen in love with my blog. I never knew what a powerful feeling it would be to put my inner thoughts down in an area where someone might or might not connect with them. I find I want to write in it all the time, and get it all out, all of it in my head that is usually silent. The smallest of details, the minutest of meanings, the revelations, the hopes, the fears, the love and the heartache.Maybe it will speak to someone, in a world where there are over a billion people, and loneliness is like a plague.

I have been resisting dealing with all the saved messages on my phone's voicemail. All seventeen of them. I avoided listening, responding, deleting for the very reason I am inspired to write this entry. I let it go, just so I didn't have to hear the two messages where he says he misses me, that he can't wait to see me, that he's excited to touch me. Acknowledging these messages amongst the miscellaneous calls from friends, family, fellow life-coaches, places of business and giving them up as my past and not to ever be my future is a cathartic moment for who I have been being in life, since he left. Sad, withdrawn, hiding out from those I love dearly, and above all, pretending like it didn't matter.

Love does matter. I'll take on anyone who says otherwise. Including myself.

World Girl

Sailor Says "No!" to Iraq War.

2005-05-12T15:42:00.000-07:00

A vote of no confidence for the Bush Administration and the Iraq War.

World Girl

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20050512/ap_on_go_ca_st_pe/iraq_sailor_s_protest

The Dove in the Cove

2005-05-12T12:31:00.000-07:00

More talk of vacation. Yes, I cannot wait for my few days in the San Juan Islands.

I am going to kayak one day, in search of Orca sightings. At night, I'm going to soak in my private jacuzzi bath tub, eat at the local pub house, check out a movie, get to bed late, wake up late, eat my complementary gormet breakfast, check out and roam around the organic herb and spice farm, ramble through many an art gallery, spend a few hours in a book store or two, lollygag on the pier soaking up sun (pray to the sun gods, pray) and then mosey my way home via the ferry. A long, beautiful trek through the islands. Ahhhh, can you tell that I'm already gone? I shall hopefully have much to report on my adventures, slothfulness, gluttony and plain ole happiness. :)

The Dove in the Cove,
World Girl

"Vacation, all I ever wanted, Vacation Having to get away!"

2005-05-11T12:48:00.000-07:00

I'm plotting. And scheming. And planning. Ah, yes, I shall be taking some vacation time very, very soon and that is oooh so good. I shall either spend a couple of days in the San Juan Islands kayaking, hoping to see Orcas, or I shall drive to Banff, Canada and take in nature's wonders there for a few days. How I long to escape the clutch of the bony hand of work! Toil, toil, toil to pay graduate student loans, rent, etc. I'm certain there will be no pity for me, on this score, as most of my friends now have mortgages. But I'll moan about it anyway.

Alas, I shall stay at a Bed and Breakfast with a jacuzzi tub all by my lonesome. I guess I'll bring some toys, er, I mean books and crosswords, to entertain myself.

With snorkle in tow,
World Girl

Song of the Day

2005-05-10T14:32:00.000-07:00

http://www.songmeanings.net/lyric.php?lid=3530822107858509797

I'm inspired by these words.

World Girl

Yes! Yes! YES! I Love Life!!

2005-05-08T15:42:00.000-07:00

Today I watched "I Heart Huckabee's" and find myself elated! I resisted seeing the movie, because it came so highly recommended like "Sideways" or any other entertainment that seems prized by the intellectual. Questions like, "will I look good if I see this movie?" would often cross many a mind. Mainly, I questioned whether it was worth watching a movie that had Jude Law in it. I mean, after the disaster of 'Closer' one can only hesistate. There was a movie that made it seem like the world consisted of four selfish individuals, who couldn't see that their inability to be authentic with each other, made their art worthless. How incredibly boring.

Huckabees is one of those spasmic reminders that life is all things and that self-introspection and deconstructing one's self and personal stories can result in horrible and magnificent things. And none of these things matter. The movie volleys between two separate schools of thought. One is Existential the other nihilistic. Is life inter-connected/love and all encompassing or is it meaningless and cruel? And do we have the will-power to over-come the daily drama of life and our existence to entertain these thoughts? Are we able to set aside our personal drama so that we may take on greater things and do great things?

Albert, the main character (almost, but not by much), must let go of his stories about his work, the people in his life and his past, to realized that he is connected to everything and isolated at the same time. He deconstructs his past, confronts his worst feelings about being dominated, made to feel ashamed and his fears of loosing everything by doing just that. It is only when he sees the drama he creates, that he is able to see himself in everything and see how it doesn't matter. With this accomplished, he is able to be intimate with others, and take on what he cares about. He's even able to see himself in his worst enemy and see himself as his worst enemy, and not let that stop him from what he wants to accomplish.

One of the characters who was deconstructing herself was a spokes model for the department store Huckabee's which is supposed to be like a target or a Wal-Mart. Her life came down to, "do I have to be beautiful all the time?" She went from being glamorous to dressing like a dirty farmer, with teeth un-brushed and hair a mess. She lost her job, but she found what she always wanted: true love. So, the answer to her question was no/yes. Ha!

Tommy, a fireman played by Mark Wahlberg, looses everything, too, when he deconstructs himself and takes a look at the big picture in life. His wife leaves him, he isn't allowed to see his daughter, the other fireman laugh at him, when he refuses to ride in the fire truck. Once he takes a look at the big pictures in life which includes, war lords, crimes against humanity for oil, sweat shops in Asia, he can no longer go on with the life he always has. He is perfect, for he represents almost any American. I love Tommy the character for his pursuit of the truth, for his violent stand he takes for those he looks up to, and for being committed to seeing the big picture, now that he has seen it. I also love Mark Wahlberg. Every expression he made was beautiful in emotion. There was so much innocence in his portrayal of Tommy, the average American, the average human being. All of it was remarkable.

No one's deconstruction was more beautiful than Jude Law's character, the conniving, boring, mean-spirited sales executive of Huckabee's. He dominates others, before he can be dominated. He is shallow, self-serving and just about anybody on the street. Hell, if you're reading this, take a look inside. I can see it in me, too. He seemingly has the most to loose (as we all think we do). And in deconstructing himself, in pulling away the layers of who he has made himself into, he is almost unable to confront the choices he's made. When he sees his life, he throws up in the Huckabee's board room in front of all the senior executives. The big picture for him is left incomplete.

Through this journey, there are the Existential Investigators and the Nihilist Investigator, who open up these cases (or cans of worms) for their clients to look at. They are like the third-eye in us all, revealing back to us why we do anything, why things are connected, what we really want in life. In the end everything is united, even the schools of thought.

So, what is it for you? What would life look like if you looked at the big picture? If you deconstructed yourself? What question dominates your life, and in turn dominates others? What keeps you from taking on great things? What do you want your world to look like? Life's meaningless anyway, so choose.
Signing off, World Girl

Uh, so is this working?

2005-04-19T22:45:00.000-07:00

So this is my first blog post ever. It will be the most mundane posting as I am going to write...Testing, testing, testing.

Now, will I ever have anything brilliant to write is yet to be seen. A good friend said I should start a blog, because interesting thoughts must always come into my head. And to that I questioned, "Like what? Like politics are whack? I shouldn't have eaten that? I have to pee. Obsessive thoughts on my brilliant cat?" Anyway, perhaps there will be moments where I will wax the form poetic and move the world with my puny words.
Signing off,
World Girl