Ok...

New Year's resolutions:

1. I used to keep a card by my desk at work. A Buddha sits upon a hillside and the text reads: "When we understand, things are the way they are. When we don't understand, things are the way they are." I used to cling to this whenever things got stressful or out of hand at work or in life. In the move from one location to another, I lost the card and unfortunately this last year, the sentiment as well. I am recommitting myself to this in the new year. Things are great with Justin, we understand one another and can work through things, but at work there is such a political struggle everyday, our neighbor is crazy, and there are family illnesses on both sides. I can only control so much that happens in life, I need to remember that. Things are the way they are.

2. Justin and I are going to try to eat vegetarian at least 4 days of the week. Neither one of us needs the extra fat and calories and lately we have been conflicted over eating meat often. The other days we will get the meat from free-range providers.

3. Ahh.. this is the hardest for me. I am going to try to not be so gullible. I have trick-me written on my forhead I think. Ya know, having the trust issues that I do, one would think that I wouldn't fall for much. I so want to believe everything everyone tells me. Dating Justin does not help train me for testing people. He may very well be the most honest person on the planet. I never have to worry when he tells me something. This year I have fallen for some silly things causing me to feel like a dork.

So those all seem doable, right? Huh? Maybe? I guess we will see.

Woo hoo to insomnia –

Eden –

The green scent of you

would linger with me for a while,

stay and play childish

tricks on my memories,

making them believe in themselves.

The smell of damp earth

and creation on your hands

kept me company on the drive

back to my own fields.

And now, in the evening,

when the air is still,

I am left only a recognition.

The shape of a branch,

a reminder

of the line, soft and angled,

that defined your smile.

The Effect –

“Fortunately,” she sighed,

“I have noticed a change

in the atmosphere and

in my utmost fear.”

And with a final nod,

she sent the first black

domino on its way, clacking

and colliding with the

next waiting moment.

And when the falling had stopped,

and the room was silent,

a battlefield of fallen

wishes and might-have-beens;

she stood, smoothed her skirts,

and opened the door to follow the wind.

This is the last week of the year. I am excited about next year. Big things are happening. Justin and I are going to Ireland. We are getting a couch. I am turning 34! (not 35 as previously reported) in November. All things to look forward to, right? Prospectively, we have the biggest year ever workwise. I just have all these excited butterflies moshing around in my tummy thinking of things to come. But then again, it may be just a normal ordinary year.

I think I am going to start blogging more. I don't want to miss anything that might pop up.

Happy almost new year...!

Edited to correct my age. I am the only person I know that cannot remember how old she is. I tend to always make myself a year older. That should be my NYR - to remember how old I am.

yay for waterific aerobic activity

I hurt. My bottom hurts, my shoulders hurt, my arms hurt, I even ache in places that you can't talk about in mixed company, but all in all I feel pretty good about it. I went to the gym last night for my first water aerobics class and it was great!

I decided that I wasn't just going to go to the Water Fitness class at our gym, I was going to hang with the big boys and do the Deep Water Water Fitness class. I spent half the time freaking out that I was going to drown and the other half amazed at what my body would do with a little buoyancy. Because I thought I would just be drifitng about for a little while, I had walked for a little while on the treadmill first. I WON'T do that again. There were only five us in this class compared to the twenty that had shown up for the regular group, but I think we had a better time. It was great to meet people away from work, that I could just commiserate with about thinking my legs were going to fly out of their sockets as the cute lil instructor kept calling out "come on, faster - faster as fast as you can for 3 minutes."

It was fun, and I was congragulated on doing such a good job for my first time, however...I think I got an up on those skinny girls. Trying to keep my ample posterior under the water made my workout twice as difficult. I am gonna be ripped in no time.

closed door

A Map of Love – Donald Justice
Your face more than others' faces
Maps the half-remembered places
I have come to I while I slept—
Continents a dream had kept
Secret from all waking folk
Till to your face I awoke,
And remembered then the shore,
And the dark interior.

Donald Justice died in August. I did not hear it on the news, we were not friends or relatives, I was not a member of his peer community, but today, I cried because I just read that fact. I can’t believe it is true. I felt as if someone I had loved has passed, I felt the loss in my gut.

Donald Justice first entered my life when I was in college. I went to school at Berea College. There is a kind of idyllic cloud over the place. There are the partiers and the trouble makers, but for the most part, Berea is this strange blend of good-will and thirst and hunger for education and opportunity. If you don’t know about the school, it used to be known as the school for poor smart kids. You know the kids in your high school who got pretty good grades, but have families that would never be able to afford college. At Berea, every student has a job, every student learns (most of us already knew the lesson) the dignity of labor and pays for their tuition and school expenses through a campus job. From janitor and waiter to working in the president’s office, everyone helps, everyone pays their way.

Alright, I know it is seeming a little candy-colored and unreal, but I have very fond memories of my time at Berea. I can’t help it. For the first time in my life, people were as excited about going to class as I was. I was in an environment that fostered every urge I had to think and just revel in that great feeling of being overwhelmed when every thought is a new discovery. In Berea, I met some of the greatest influences of my life. Dr. Wallhauser, Dr. Startzman, Dr. Lichtmann and Mary Jo. Each of these professors gave me a key piece of the person I took with me from my nest. Wallhauser and Startzman gave me a mirror for reality, Lichtmann taught that to love God was to question, and Mary Jo, well, she gave me the best gift of all, poetry.

I will undoubtedly talk about these people again, but for now I will just say, Mary Jo was a gifted poet who somehow found her way to our little hamlet of Berea. Her professorial style was laid back and her relationship with her students was one of “the guide” more than the teacher.

Although I was an English major, I was never a fan of poetry. The story had such opportunities to wind and paint and develop, but a poem, well it was just some whiney boy with a pen, right? I never knew the power of words until I discovered the poem. We chant the mantras “seize the day” and “make every moment count” but fail to realize the succinct beauty of the poem. Every word, every mark, every pause is a window on a captured moment. A snapshot of the world where everything has been stopped to show you the beauty that lies beneath. The quiet, the chaos, the dark, the light, every beat a sign of life.

While at Berea, Mary Jo started the Poetry Festival. Even in the intellectually fostering environment of Berea, it was still hard to get funding for a poetry festival, go figure. But for the few years that it went on, it was a revelation to me. I met Mark Strand and James Still. I picked Caroline Forche up from the airport and gritted my teeth in anger while she told me that I could never be a writer until I had traveled outside of Kentucky. I supposed that she had not researched the school she was coming to now, or considered the possibility that my family had subsisted on potatoes alone for a month my last summer at home. I have since traveled out of Kentucky and had all manner of experiences that I could never have conceived of at that point in time. I am still a less than stellar writer and an even worse poet, but I still am resentful and grateful for the advice. And then I met Donald Justice.

Let me just say this, and release it on the world so my mind can be free of it. I think there is a certain amount of conceit to every poet. I know the world labels them as sensitive, and there are many cartoons and funnies about them being somehow less self assured than great athletes or politicians, but I am here to say, I think this is a mistake. The poet truly acknowledges her role as the discoverer. The poet knows a secret the rest of us missed. Donald Justice was stern and confident in his talent. He was also beautiful. I would realize myself completely transfixed while he was on stage reading his work. I remember everything about that moment. The angle, the lighting, my chair, his pauses, everything, I cherish that memory.

For Christmas my senior year, Mary Jo gave me a book of his poetry. She wrote a very kind inscription about bringing Justice and I together. She was a student of his when he was in Florida, and I loved hearing her talk about him, and their correspondence. I have images in my head of her with him. How she went from being the person I most looked up to, to someone transfigured, into myself. She looked to him as I to her. Although she was already gifted, he gave her the same gift she would later pass to me, he gave her poetry a voice and a life.

I cried for the loss of Donald Justice. I cried that he would never again write, would never again observe the world in his simple, unadorned way. And I cried for the loss of Mary Jo. For some reason, the connection we had through his poetry died as well. I do not see her now, and will not ever again. His death seemed to be the last push; closing the door to the person I used to be. I work so much now, that I rarely take time to read poetry, and when I do, who would I discuss it with, who would get so excited over a few words. I cried because I had kept one foot in that door for so long, trying to keep it ajar so I could look back before moving on.

long time gone...

So I have given up my dreams of being a crafty princess like so many of my friends. I just don’t have it. I swear, I have the drive, I just don’t have the mad skillz. See, it would be different and I could accept it better if it were just that I wasn’t ever gonna be a ballerina. I am practical enough, that this conclusion makes sense to me. Great big bum, itty bitty toes, I don’t see a lot of on pointe pirouettes in my future. But geez oh pete, why can’t I finish that baby afghan or perfect my cupcake decorating talents?

Carm’s birthday was this week, and I so wanted to give her these cute little lady bug cupcakes. I researched the idea. I found lots of cute, artsy little lady bug examples. I did test runs on icing coloring. I made Justin eat more cupcakes than I think he has ever considered eating. I even put on my brave coat and made my own frosting from scratch so that it would color easier. And yet, there I was…sitting on the ottoman, hunched over the coffee table…promising to never attempt even the slightest hint of crafty project again. Justin, who was too tied up in INXS: Rockstar (I know can you believe Mr. Noble-I-Don’t-Watch-Junk-TV watches that??!??), to really pay attention to my incessant whining, but I have reiterated the vow to him in the days since.

We have been working so much that I thought being crafty would help be a stress reliever, but that is a big fat lie. Being crafty takes lots of work. Yes it helps to be blessed with an artful hand and an aesthetically pleasing imagination, but you have to invest so much time and energy getting everything right. I have decided to do something easier. I am going to teach myself a new programming language, or learn Portuguese, or take up fencing. But no more crafts. I am not anti-crafty by any means; I will still be a patron and appreciator of others efforts, but that is all she wrote.

That is a pic of the cupcakes.. one person said they looked a little like basketballs from afar. A little girl on the elevator asked me why they had spiders on them...wow.

yay...

Nothing makes me happier than finding new and unimportant links on the web. Ok, let's be honest, I have an excessive nosey gene. I am nosey about EVERYTHING, even the most unimportant mundane piece of minutia that has some relation to the lives of others. I have no idea where this need to know comes from, but alas, it's my cross to bear. So.........on to the link I am currently in love with : http://www.grocerylists.org/ . Yep... you can go look at the grocery lists of others, on their own paper even, I am giddy.

I promise to start updating more soon. I am going to move the blog over to the new site when it is opened. It will be much like the old one, except with out all the sordid history. Thanks for remindeng me of that this morning, Claire. Wanderlustgirl.com is in the pipes, ready to emerge. Well, almost.

the right link at the right time.

Ok... I was getting stressed out after reading the news this morning, I needed some comic relief. Please send the end of this post for an interesting link to an interesting person who while strange, at least is not trying to keep the rest of the country locked into the 1950's when Father and the President knew best.

First the bad, am I the only one who feels this awful, sinking feeling everytime I read of something else BWG (I put his name in backwards - think residentpay of the nitedua tatessay) so I don't get googled by the SS and get in trouble, accomplishes something. (Sorry for the loong rambling sentence.) Anyhow...it seems like everytime I read the news, he has somehow managed to get things to go his way, and I feel physically ill. We are going to end up drilling for oil in the protected Alaska Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, when he first mentioned this during his first term, I thought he would get laughed out of office, but now the senate is going along with him. Have you seen the pictures? I mean really, google it! How could you destroy that place that resnates with a harmony between land, sky and life that we all long for? I can't even articulate how nauseated it makes me. BUT then, he wins again and it just gets worse.

Now he has convinced the UN to get behind him in once again stymieing the advancement of stem cell research. While I have personal reservations about human cloning, on a spiritual and just plain paranoia level, I can't see the problem with replicating the conditions for retrieval of those very important cells for research and curing people who need it desperately. All I can think to say is uggh or maybe arrgh.

I think what bothers me most about him is that he is making all the world's Christians out to be these horrible creatures who narrowly determine what is right and wrong, black and white. Sometimes I feel like I need to start a campaign to convince the rest of the world that we are not all BWG supporters, or nearly as cruel, close-minded, or money hungry as he is. Actually, let me say that Mel Gibson did us no favors last year either.
http://www.mytrumanshow.com

I know... 2 post in one day after almost a month of silence is strange

however... I have threatened Justin all night that I was going to post about him... so here goes.

Really - what could make a girl feel more in love and enraptured with her boyfriend, than to see him - jumping up and down in the middle of the living room, pumping his fists in the air, squealing "woohoo, woohooo" because his favorite designer won on Project Runway? Nothing, I say. Nothing.

Ok, well maybe when he talks to his cat in that precious little voice, nuzzles his face up against him and calls him "Mr. Colin."

:P there ya go, I have posted about you. Congrats on Jay, dude. Good call.

Gizoogle - Fo all you beotches who wanna find shiznit

Gizoogle - Fo all you beotches who wanna find shiznit


I kniznow it is crazy but I really love this site. I cant explain it.

Oh... and if I don't get spinners for my shoes, I will be severely heartbroken.

And her name is....

Suki.

Yep that is the one that is sticking. We had kicked it around a bit. Then today, I had a stressful day and was watching the Gilmore Girls when Sookie laughed about something. She has the greatest smile and infectious laugh that I thought it was perfect for our little girl that makes the house so happy. Ok, I am running off to make dinner.

mphbtks...we..fwghot a gnkcat.....

I am pretty much drugged out on Darvocet and my mouth hurts, but I wanted to write it down that we got her!! I wanted to remember the day we got her so I thought I would pop it down here. She is so petite and loving and beautiful. I am completely in love. We are keeping her in the bedroom, we don't want to scare or make Colin uncomfortable, so they will be introduced very slowly.

She loves to play and constantly wants to be rubbed and scratched.

Uhm.. she has a lot of names right now. Mariska, Beyonce, Josephine....ya know. Justin calls her "what's her name." I think we might name her after one of the Gilmore Girls... I will let ya know.

So at work, I have been complaining and moaning about my mouth surgery in the morning...and they sent me this link.

I guess things could be worse. Unfortunately for my co-workers, I am still gonna moan and whine about *my* troubles.

Such a nice Sunday. We got up late, there was a nice light snow all day. We got our errands done early. Lovely doghnuts from the shop near our house. Snuggling up in the late afternoon for a nap. I made comfort food, fighting against the cold trying to press in through the walls. A gorgoeus fire, Colin curled up in his spot, Justin, it was the best kind of Sunday.

Cats and Brits...

The search is on... we need a new housemate. We want to find a new pet-friend - so we spent the afternoon doing a mass shelter run. I looked over some cuties at Petfinder, and we realized that we could hit about 4 area shelters if we planned our trip right. I am not sure if we found anything or not, but I fell in love a lot. I am like a 3 year old - "I want the kitty, I want the puppy! That one and that one..and please can I have him." Eh.. not one of my more dignified mornings I suppose. We actually did find one promising canidate.

An 8-month old black kitten. She is solid black with big golden eyes. I fell in love at first sight, and I think maybe Justin is a little, although cautious, smitten as well. She is small, so Colin will not be intimidated. She is a female, so Colin will not be annoyed with the machismo of another boy. She is short-haired, so Jamie will get some lovin when it gets cold. She has lots of personality and wants to play a lot, so Justin will be thrilled-they can aggravate each other. I think it will work out all-around. Justin says we should wait, and come back next week, I want her NOW. But he is right.

We had an art contest with McDonald's Ice Cream Cones, I have to admit it... I am soooooooo much more talented than him.

Saturday night was very special... I was suprised with an in-town visit from a very dear friend who lives across the Atlantic :) Thank you for the wonderful company. Justin and I had lots of fun.

For dinner, we took hiim to Famous Daves! woohoo. What better way to say "Enjoy America" than with some yummy as hell corn muffins from a chain that is actually worth "loving it". Who knew a KY girl and Memphis boy would find Q' love at a chain that originated in Minnesota. Those Yankees get some things right. My friend loved it. He had never had corn muffins/bread before and loved the brisket. He has promised to come back and visit us, if just for Dave's.

Great night. I have known my friend from online for years, and never imagined we would ever get to spend and evening together. The one word that keeps coming to mind is delightful. He and Justin are dangerous together (wicked humors and about as aggravating as I can stand), but I count this as one of the best evenings in a long time.

I am a terrible insomniac. I sleep about 4 - 5 hours a night, and often find myself up and looking for something to do long before my boyfriend ever stirs. A few days ago, I was reading the news sites on the web, and came across an article about the effects of blood sugar on cancer risk.

Now.. I am not afraid of snakes or spiders. I am pretty down to earth in my unreasonable fears of things, but CANCER is the A-1 fear in my heart. My worries are not completely baseless. My mother died of cancer when she was only 54, and I have never known my biological father - or his family history, so I have some legitimate concern for being so concerned.

The article discussed how a blood sugar level over 140 created a much greater risk for individuals to get cancer in general and pancreatic cancer specifically. Ala Chicken Little, I went into panic mode. I have been a diabetic (Type 2) for a couple of years now. I can, and do, watch my sugars from time to time; however, most of the time I am running in the high 200-400's. I have hard time taking this seriously, and I have no idea why. I think mostly it is because, I think that if this is just something I can handle with diet and exercise, then it must not be that terribly important. I mean, if the doctor just advises me to eat a healthy diet, well then that is his usual advice and it is not something real. I am not like those people with Juvenile Diabetes. I make my own insulin still, I am reasonably healthy (except for a back problem that has developed over the last couple of months), so I have a hard time accepting that I have a disease. This article, with its very warnings and predictions was a huge kick in the bum for me.

I had already promised my boyfriend ( the single most supportive and good person in the world) , my doctor, my co-workers and I think maybe some randon strangers as well, that I would try and be better this year. I am trying a new vegetable recipe every week. One of these days, I will like veggies, I promise.

When I was a little girl. All things were cooked in one method - fry it up in the big iron skillet. Potatoes? Fried. Chicken? Fried. Greens? Fried. Bologna? Fried. You name it... my mother could find away to fry it. We even had fried toast alot. No really, not french toast, but regular, run of the mill, bread buttered up and fried. Learning how to cook well, with diversity and an eye to the nutritional values has been a great journey for me. From being a willing product of my youth, to becoming a responsible product of my own, I am excited and a bit weary of my follow through. We shall see I guess.

I have a serious case of wanderlust. This feeling is nothing new. I constantly want to go. Usually this is settled by a weekend trip somewhere, or just an overnight affair. However, I am currently grounded, almost literally. Since November, I have been limited because of a back injury/condition... who knows what it is.

To paraphrase Joni, by way of the Counting Crows, "you don't know what you got til it's gone." Justin egged me on all summer about going for a walk. I, being an ice fisherman by heritage, loathed the idea of spending all evening out in the oppressive heat. Now, I wish I had walked all over Beulah. The ironic, I think this will qualify as ironic, thing is that we had just recently started to go out taking walks with each other in nature-y places. We walked Raven's Run and I thought I would have to have him push me up some of the hills. We went on a weekend trip to Eastern Kentucky just to see the hills and forest, and I think that is when the trouble started. I am not sure if it was the bed or the walk or the drive that aggravated my back, but since then, I have been in nearly constant pain.

I missed Thanksgiving, Justin went to his father's house. They were sweet and thoughtful enough to send leftovers. I missed his birthday, my birthday, Christmas... my favorite time of the year... late fall just faded away from me, and I feel the loss profoundly. Hopefully, with this beginning of a new year, I will be able to move on and get over what is holding me down.

Justin and I are wanting to go to so many places. I have still never been to Chicago, and he really wants to go back, so that is always on our back burner. I, oddly enough, miss Memphis and would like for us to go back there, as well as take a trip on through so Justino can see his mom and sister. I know he misses them a lot, and I feel so bad for that. He sacrificed a lot to move to KY and be with me... and I am the luckiest, most grateful girl in the world.

Anyway... all of that rambling was only to say... Happy New Year world. I hope that next year we can get out on your roads and see the world more.