Just Jazz

Again...

2012-02-13T10:37:00.000-08:00

When I’m there, truly there, and being present in the moment, Cyrus astonishes me. He makes me think about human nature, the planets, the stars, patterns. I see such light in his eyes. This weekend we soaked up the time together, and I felt, for the first time in awhile, that we were truly connecting and conversing. He was learning. Sometimes he just holds my face in his two little hands and looks and looks and LOOKS into my eyes. I wonder what he sees there?

He asks why so often, I sometimes find myself cringing because I’m tired of explaining. But really, that answering and those questions should be joyful. He is Growing. He’s being who he’s made to be.Kids just are as they are. During baby dedications, they wiggle and squirm on the stage and look uncomfortable, because they are. They just want to GO everywhere and see everything all and once and move. To be.

We grow up and we learn social norms and then we are quiet and we don’t fidget and we eat with forks. We try to fit into what others want to see, not necessarily what we are. I try to hold on to his child's wonder at the world. I feel it seeping in when I’m at the coast, or during a particularly beautiful rendition of Mozart’s symphonies.

Cyrus and I looked at bird’s feet on saturday, and we watched the chickadees calling and flitting from tree to tree. We saw the sun rising and ate toast with jelly because it was the good kind of jelly and he wanted “the sweetness”. I taught him how to cut the asparagus with his fork and slurp noodles and put his napkin on his lap.

We spent a long time laughing at the sounds we could make with the little bird whistle I gave him for christmas. We read a book and then Cyrus read it back to me. Abashed, he couldn’t “remember the part” but tried to explain it anyway. His cheek is scratched because he fought with a boy in church over the toy trains. He went potty on his own and told Rachael I was proud of him. He ate the steak tonight with such joy and intensity. We went for a walk and got a treat (orange juice) from Ava’s and I grinned at his lip smacking delight.

May I hold to this. May I be the kind of mom that takes joy in her children. May I learn from Cyrus and may I teach him to love as we are loved.

As I look forward to moving, I realize how much has changed in a short amount of time. This apartment has meant a lot to me. When Rachael and I came here we were ready for a fresh start and a place to call our own. So we made it ours. We decorated and organized, using not one stick of furniture from the old apartment–it was a fresh start and that meant purging. I’ve never been proud of a place I lived in until now. People step inside and smile. They feel welcome and they always say, ‘its so peaceful.” that makes me happier than anything. We don’t have it filled with expensive things, but everything has meaning. It stands for something.

This place is the first apartment I’ve felt at home in. The place Dave told me he liked me for the first time. The place I learned to love writing again. The place that Cyrus learned how to brush his teeth and put on his shoes and say the word delicious. This place is my home, and I am sad to leave but I am excited for the future.

I’m ready for new. I’m ready to have a place with just Cyrus and I. It will be an adjustment, but it will be good. I want to make a home for myself, and I’m strong enough to do that now. It’s making me smile just thinking that. The transformation that has taken place in me in the past two years is fantastic: I’d probably not recognize myself.

Thank God for grace and mercy and fresh beginnings.

The light does shine in the darkness. That is my motto, my anthem for this new year. I am a new woman and i am making a new life. I’m choosing the light. My heart is open, my soul is uplifted. I feel heavy some days--Tired and weighed down and incapable. But I am loved no matter what. And that is a miracle in itself. I can give love now because I’m not broken, I am restored.

Life is dark and treacherous; we can’t see around the bends and we stumble, searching for a foothold. We can’t turn back, but going forward seems an insurmountable task. Yet when we stop looking for the next move, stop trying to balance perfectly-when we just stop, and OPEN our eyes we see it: we’re not alone. The cliffside is dotted by a million other people and we’re all moving forward as best we can.

Dusty and sweaty and strong, we are climbing the mountain. Together.I see in the darkness, a great light.

The Sea of Is

2011-12-07T10:36:00.000-08:00

Cancer leaves a mark that is never forgotten. It shapes you. It changes your sense of self, your family dynamics, your relationships, and the way you interact with the world. Nothing is left untouched.

I wish I could tell you life as the sibling of a cancer patient gets easier after treatment. No more hospital visits, no more worry about blood cell counts, no more agonizing over CAT scan results. But it won't.

There isn’t a normal to go back to. Once you’re out of crisis mode, that anchor of “How It Was” disappears, and you’re left floating in the "Sea Of Is." “Is” is hard, because you don’t know where you fit in or what life should look like.

My family is one of the lucky ones– my brother is still with us. Imagining the pain of trying to go on after losing a sibling makes my heart ache. I have stood by friends on this journey and I know the little things hurt the most: sorting through her memories and storing them away in the attic. Closing her email accounts; forgetting she’s gone and buying her a birthday present. That loss shreds the soul. Life is never the same.

Even if your sibling survived, you go through a grieving process. For me, there are triggers. Six years post treatment I find myself cringing when I get in an elevator. That familiar sound as the door closes brings back memories of riding the elevator up to the oncology unit: the endless hours of waiting, that smell of antiseptic and paper mache in the lobby, the "uplifting" quotes in that horrific font on the hospital walls that seemed to mock us. Those triggers are minor compared to the many residual effects.

My sisters and I have all shared that darkness. Cancer has crept into our art projects, our dance presentations, our sports games and our careers. We do not live as though being siblings of a cancer patient defines us, but we cannot escape the effects of that stolen time. We lost our senior year of high school, we lost the innocence of childhood, we lost our friends, we lost our freedom. Living in the shadow of someone fighting cancer is hard, but no one is allowed to talk about it because you’re not supposed to talk about yourself when your sibling could die.

After you’ve processed through the grieving, you might feel isolated, as I do, from those who have not experienced pain. Jokes and small talk come easily enough, but when it comes to deep soul searching truths, when it comes to sucking the marrow out of life, many times I feel utterly abandoned. Like no one understands what life really is about, or sees through those eyes tinged with tears and triumph. Once you’ve suffered in life, you emerge a different, deeper, more soulful person. You stand out.

Therin lies the pain and the beauty of being the sibling of a cancer patient. We can’t go back to our numbness. We must clasp tightly to the small joys of life; they are overwhelming in their simple splendor. We learn that happiness is slivers of laughter mingled with tears; joy and pain side by side. We learn to take time to cherish small moments in life, because time is all we have.

Life is not a coloring book, and there aren't lines. Mostly it is messy and con- fusing and you can only take one day at a time. We learn to be authentic, and to say what we truly mean because we don't know when or if we'll get to say it again. We learn to let people accept us as we are. These lessons are ones we could never have learned in any other way.

As the sibling of a cancer patient, you are now a part of a community of people who understand. No matter where you go, you are connected with other siblings, other cancer patients, other families who know how to be strong together.

At first, I was reluctant to be a part of the “cancer people.” It was like a club where the only rule to get in was that you had to hurt. I didn’t want to admit that was me. But once I did, I saw the strength of people who face illness with dignity, who give from the deepest part of themselves, and who live like each day is their last.

I want to give you hope that good can come from your situation. Lessons of trust, faith and love are life changing.

I hope you embrace your new community with open arms. Let them hold your hand. Let them cry with you. Let them sit with you in the dark, and wait. There is a beautiful tomorrow on the horizon. Even if it seems that life will never be what you wanted, it is still filled with small goodnesses. Hold on to the moment. Breath in the fresh air, listen to your heartbeat, watch the sunset.

Hold fast to the small intricate joys of life. If you look you will see them– even on the darkest days.

Beyond Words

2011-11-25T09:34:00.000-08:00

This thanksgiving I am overcome by joy and gratitude, for a myriad of reasons.

I am thankful for loss, because it has taught me to truly appreciate what I have.

I am thankful for the feeling that life is crumbling around me, because it has forced me to build from the rubble.

I am thankful for second chances. Including the ones I give myself.

I am thankful for the courage to love.

I am thankful for the ability to feel air in my lungs—to Be.

I am thankful for physical, emotional and spiritual wholeness.

I am thankful for clarity, boundaries, and confidence.

I am thankful for the fragile life entrusted me, and lessons that thrust me into a wider perspective.

In the dark corners of life, light shines more brilliantly. My soul is awash with blessing.

I sound my barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world

2011-04-16T22:35:00.000-07:00

A few days ago someone asked me if I was an author. Haltingly, I answered "no." Yet amidst carcasses of half written screenplays, partially outlined novels, and snippets of poetry, my true creation lies.

Since I was a little girl, all I've wanted is to be an author. The desire to create worlds, build empires and tear them down again--to splatter a canvas with people and places I've never seen or met, thrills me. I think the written word connects on such a visceral soulful level with those who chose to engage in reading.

After reading a phrase, chapter, or even just a solitary word, have you ever simply frozen? Lost, for just a moment, somewhere between the letters and the crisp paper they were printed on, you found another sliver of truth, of yourself, and something shifted. Therein lies the beauty of literature. Using one's imagination to fall into another dimension is something for which there is no equivalent. No virtual reality, video game or film can come close to the experience.

Some can bring universes into being with the stroke of guitar strings or the gentle hum of a song. Others use paint and brushes,, clay and water. Words, to me, make the most sense. And so, I will write. This time I will focus on one work (instead of the ten I've always got tumbling around in my small head).

We'll see where it goes...

Onward! Progress!

2011-03-16T22:40:00.000-07:00

The changes in my life feel so insignificant in comparison to the vast uprooting of lives taking place in Japan this last few week. But I suppose even small changes are worth recording. No, this does not mean I will be documenting my latest beverage selections and shower schedules on twitter. Sorry to disappoint--my generation's obsession with over-sharing has escaped me.

Seasons come and go, and people change with the passing time. Slowly, imperceptibly we inch towards growth. Sometimes quickly, in one swift instant, we move years beyond our former selves. This sounds all mumbo jumbo (ish), but I promise I'm not trying to drag you to a tie dye laden drum circle. It's just a thought I've been having lately.

Since change is such a constant in our lives (the only constant, really) why are we so damn afraid of it? Why do we fight it so hard against it's current? Why do we seek out sameness, without even giving a thought to the new? Is this just a trait of human beings? Is it engrained in the western culture, or global? What is it about change that is so terrifying?

Someone once told me "all forward motion is progress," and I try to stand by that slogan. Each breath is a new one. Cheesy, yes. But still true. I want to be someone that embraces change. Instead of floundering in the unfamiliarity of the newness, I want to revel in the chance for experiences, ideas and something greater than I could have previously envisioned. That's what makes it great. I COULDN'T have seen it before it happened. Without change, the world would be so bloody boring.

Working as a (real life) Marketing Coordinator is full of challenges, and certainly keeps me on my toes. The design environment is full of creativity, color, and a vibrancy that can only come from a love of life, expressed through art. It is exhilarating. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to be sure that I'm not dreaming. I don' think I'll ever tire of looking out from the lobby to the glossy water of the Willamette, cargo ships drifting past...

Cyrus is growing talkative and more defiant daily. He's still the sweet boy who likes to cuddle and read Goodnight Moon at least twice before bed, still the curly headed mop of hair bouncing around to the Beatles record and crumbling crackers around the living room. But he's growing older, and wary that life doesn't always bring him what he wants. I so cherish being his mum, and often wish I had ten more hours in the day to spend with him.

Life feels so full of hope tonight. Who knows what's around the bend?

Adventures await.

Strategic Plan

2011-01-25T14:58:00.001-08:00

This picture sums up my life right now.

So many options, so many possibilities!

Look

2010-11-14T20:51:00.000-08:00

Within just one day of deciding to curb my frantic facebook and texting habits, I feel like I've seen more of the world.

My modern day half assed Thoreau movement is in full swing.

We'll see how it goes when I log in to my computer at work tomorrow morning...

In the mean time I'm setting some serious goals. Once they're achieved, I'll probably join the rest of the world on the ol' FB.

Until later,

-Out of Touch In A Good Way

Epic

2010-11-01T21:50:00.001-07:00

This is how a political rally should be done! Props to you, Jon Stewart and Colbert.

Weeming

2010-06-30T22:04:00.000-07:00

It is a Portland summer day, meaning the sun is threatening to dissapear behind clouds hovering in the background and I am warm, but not hot. I decide it is a good idea to venture to the pool with Cyrus for a swim. Slathered in ample amounts of sunscreen and armed with special swim diapers (for him, not me!) we embarked on the journey. I knew there were other children in the pool, so I was expecting a busy scene. Upon arrival I was pleasantly surprised to find less children there than i had imagined (perhaps a dozen, instead of the 30 I'd pictured).

Clutching Cyrus in my arms, I slipped into the water, flinching a bit as the cool water hit my bare stomach. I tired to gradually ease into the pool (it isnt heated, and it is outdoors, so it's cold) He just began to splash and shreik with excitmet, beling any fears I might have had regarding his adjustment to the temperature.

Shortly after walking around in the pool a few times, Cyrus decides he is ready to "weem". Head up, grinning ear to ear, he almost darts out of my arms. Kicking his little feet and spashing ferociously, he struggles to move away from me. I let him kick and squirm and grabb frantically at his oh so slippery (cursed sunscreen!) frame before he sinks. He shrieks again, "weem! weem" and plants his face in the water. Surprised at the non breathable liquid, he sputters before dogged attempts to swim away again.

I marvel at his adaptabilty and am reminded (yet again) that he does have some of my traits. Looking around the pool I realize that I am surrounded by men and their sons. There are hardly any girls to be seen, and only one other woman tanning out of reach of the splash zone. Did I miss the father son swimming memo?

Cyrus soon notices the other boys, and askes to get "up" to stand on the side of the pool before launching himself headlong into the water. Thankfullly, I know what to expect and catch him. He is all boy! After some time a little girl named Riannah joins us at the pool. She is a bit older than cyrus and seems to want to tell him how to swim. He is, however, quite taken with her cute pink painted toenails and equally adorable black ringlets and so he bats his eye lashes and smiles coyly as he allows her to lead him around.

All this to say, Cyrus and I are very thankful for the pool here at The Sunflower Apartments, and hope to get more use of it, if the sun will cooperate!

rhythm.

2010-01-13T23:53:00.000-08:00

I can’t sing. In fact, I don’t have rhythm. (white girl right here!) Well.. that’s not correct. My grandma told me when I was little that I was awkward when listening to music and it stuck with me. I revert to a scared prepubescent teen when I am in a public setting that requires participation in musical activities.

Until
I decided to just screw it. Who cares if people think I look like a dork? I like this song, and I’m gonna dance to it, dammit! (not the obnoxious flailing arms and legs and pushing people over dancing. I’m talking relatively dignified moves). I did take ballroom dance lessons (good memories Ryan!) but was a bit awkward then because I had a crush on my partner and was generally klutzy. Come to think of it, I still am klutzy. There goes my hip hop career.

Anyway. I guess I’m saying I’ll stop wishing I were something I’m not and start enjoying myself. Loosen up a bit. Maybe its time for me to go clubbing… ‘

New Year?!

2010-01-05T00:43:00.000-08:00

I am having trouble wrapping my mind around the idea that it is 2010. Sadly, despite assurances from movies like Back To The Future we are no where near flying car status. Bummer!

This new year was fun, low key, and involved very little alcohol. Which I didn't mind.

I have too many new years resolutions! Akk. there are just so many things i want to do!

I have too many things to write, but not enough time to write.

Coming up.. List. Lots of lists. That sounds boring! but it wont be (I hope!)

Lemmings be damned.

2009-12-09T23:17:00.000-08:00

I've decided its OK that I don't fit in anywhere.

This isn't said in the pleading half sob of one who is miserable and has resigned herself to her fate. Instead, I'm accepting and embracing the fact that I don't conform to a mold. Not only is this ok, its wonderful. I'd thought that because I was a young atypical mom (graduating from college at age 22 with a baby and relationship issues isn't necessarily a widespread phenomenon) I was alienated in some senses from other single or married people my age, while older women who were moms just weren't at the same stage in life.

Looking back, I realized that I have never really "fit in". All my life I've strived to be "cool" without realizing it. I wanted to figure out the look. How did girls in high school get that perfect made up look and that shiny hair? How did they know how to dress and what to say? One distinct memory of early high school stands out. I'm standing in the corner with somewhat dirty hair and an abundance of acne under my thick bangs, watching other girls talk while scrutinizing my purple knitted hoodie and stripped shirt. I was trying to figure out why I was wearing the same thing that I'd seen in a magazine, but still didn't feel right. It wasn't even about the clothes or the" look", it was the whole package. I wasn't interested in typical high school subjects. Who wants to talk about boys and makeup when you can discuss perl, Lord of the Rings, and Homer's Odyssey?

In college I didn't feel self conscious at all, but still did whatever people around me did just to fit in. What a waste of time! Instead of developing myself I held myself back.

So... I've realized that I'm not a conformist any longer. Here are a few facts about me that will clarify my point.

I like reading. I like literature. and I'm enthused by books. Many people say they share a love of reading but only choose books that are popular, or written at a very simple level. I like to challenge my mind and read something different (often older) to gain new perspective. I hate reality television except for a few shows that I will watch with mild interest. I have never have and never will watch tv regularly, or subscribe to cable.

I like web design, Wired Magazine, and all things new technology. But I still don't know how to drive a stick.

I care about what I eat. Yes, I recently watched Food Inc and it was very impacting. No, I'm not a government conspiracy theorist, but it can't hurt to at least try to avoid crappy foods, if possible. Am I going to stop wearing deodorant and refuse to shave my arms and eat only tofu? No. I will, however, make an effort not to eat fast food. But I wont judge you for doing so.

I'm not a typical christian. I don't like sermons, necessarily, and I don't even love church. I like simplicity, love and an abundance of grace instead of fill in the blank lessons. simplicity and community and truly helping others are what count.

I think that there are many things we cannot know for sure. Ideas about the creation of the world, the spiritual realm, or why movies like the Titanic win 12 Oscars will forever be mysteries. And that is ok. instead of wasting our time arguing about it, lets move on and live our lives. Shall we?

I'd like to think of myself as a world infused person. I try not to limit myself to the American take on things. I like listening to BBC news and NPR. Going to Africa was a life changing experience, and one day I will travel more. There are many things beyond our borders and within that we impact, with or without realizing it. I'm not a hippie or a condemning charity tugging on your heart strings for money, but I do believe we should do what we can with what we have to change what we see needs to be changed.

There are a million more things I could list, but I think I've been clear. I'm happy that I don't fit in. sure, it can get frustrating trying to carry on a conversation with someone who has the intellectual capacity of a water cooler, but (sarcastic comments aside) I do believe everyone has something to share. I try to find the common ground.

I'm happy to be me!

Wish List

2009-12-02T22:15:00.000-08:00

In case some random blog reader who has copious amounts of cash decides to be generous this holiday season, I'm posting a partial wish list.
Wow, I'm so American.

Ecosphere (like the one in anthropologie). These fascinating little devils really are enchanting. An ecosphere is a self-contained ecosystem that completely supports itself. Its mesmerizing to watch the little red shrimp swim around. It will be cheaper if you buy it from Target, Brookstone, or eco-sphere.com

Pillows. For my bed, and some for my couch. You just cant have enough.

Curtains. I’d LOVE to put up some cute curtains in the living room and bedroom. The necessary hardware would be great too, although I couldn’t get anything that has too big of screws.

Bedding would be amazing. I’m a fan of the duvet cover myself. You just can’t go wrong with feathers. Of course some shams, the bed skirt and duvet cover would be great.

Fabric! If I can’t get the aforementioned curtains, pillows or bedding I’ll just make them myself. Aren’t I innovative? Joanne’s has a good selection. So does… almost everywhere.

Urban outfitters gift cards. If you’re not in the mood for a gift card, I love almost everything in the store--Except the poop book. You can leave out the naked lady mugs too.

After years of searching, I finally found The One. She is a beautiful black peacoat with silver flat buttons that is perfectly fitted to my body. She is not, however, fitted to my budget. Thus, I forgo heavenly bliss. The coat isn’t online, but can be found in the Artizia store in Washington Square.

If I don't see ya, good afternoon good evening and good night!

2009-12-02T21:32:00.000-08:00

Life update: Long Overdue

I'm tired of not writing. I really do miss putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and letting my thoughts flow. I miss being able to relax with a good book, or curl up in bed with hot coco and an old movie. Hell, i miss being able to form a coherent thought! Those days seem like ancient history to me. When thinking about college yesterday, I realized that i used to sleep on the top bunk. For years, I was a top bunker, all through high school as well. I kind of miss it, but seeing as how I have to get in and out of bed to get Cyrus (who STILL doesn't sleep through the night) that would be excruciatingly inconvenient. Bizarre that something as mundane as one's bed height could be indicative of lifestyle.

As a mom, the moments I get to myself are rare and are usually filled with preparation for the next day's work, cleaning up the mess from two days ago, or doing nothing because I'm so bone numbingly tired that I can barely move.
Woe is me. Listen to my blog of woe and weep deep tears of sadness. Enough b**tching.

Overall I'm content with my life and where I am currently. I love my apartment. I love my friends and family. Cyrus is happy and healthy and I so enjoy watching him grow. I dont adore my job, but I am eternally grateful to have an income and am striving to meet the company's rigorous goals.

I spend a lot of time complaining on this blog. From here on our I'm going to make an effort not to waste time whining, but to chronicle important events or share my thoughts (that don't include the ways I'd like to torture caller number 476 for calling me incompetent). My life right now is in transition (and has been for the past year) but it is finally starting to settle down into something more manageable. I feel confident in myself and the person I have become, and I feel equipped to navigate whatever is thrown my way. Within reason, of course.

Some of my goals for the future are as follows:

* This upcoming year I'm going to focus on discovering what i'd like to do "when I grow up". writing has always been my strong point, but so has tech support. And people. And teaching. so we'll see what comes of that. If possible I'd like to begin work on my master's, once I discover what, exactly, i want to study. Hopefully this discovery will involved shadowing several people in the different fields I'd like to pursue.

* Re organizing/throwing out/cleaning up everything I own. After four years of dorm life I have a ton of junk sitting in my apartment that i DONT need.

* Write regularly. Hopefully, daily. I want to finish the screenplay I started.

* I have many more goals, but I'm not going to list them because you're probably already bored.

P.S. Ten points to whoever gets my title reference!

Humor me?

2009-11-21T20:44:00.000-08:00

My blogs have been a bit teary and depressing as of late-My apologies for the lack of cheeky banter. Apparently, my brain went on a bit of a holiday and hasn't quite resumed its lodging in my surprisingly small head.

Eat turkey this thursday. I'll spare you the sentimental messages of love and family, and leave you with this thought.

There!

2009-11-21T20:25:00.000-08:00

Someday, I want to breathe without wincing as air rushes through what should have been my heart. This feeling has haunted me before. Constantly hovering in the background, I hear the dull thud of painful reality.

Yet, on the other hand, I hear light and laughter and the sound of silver bells in the snow. Which doesn't make any sense, because how can I laugh and smile when life is so dreary?

The shadow proves the sunshine. The more I live the more I appreciate the dark because it exposes the light all the more beautifully.

Why?

2009-11-10T08:44:00.000-08:00

Why does sadness wash over you suddenly, without notice? I can be walking along and feel perfectly content with my life and then, I notice something. It can be small. The color of the sky. The way my waiter pronounces the word "out". A bird on the telephone wire. Instantly, I'm transported to the Land Of Emotions. I suppose this is normal. When one is going through a grieving process, one must take a step at a time. And by step, I mean breath. In, out. Repeat. Sometimes I want to take leaps, perhaps even shift into hyper-drive and bypass all these damn tears. But it doesn't work that way.

Lately, I've been trying to figure out A. What I'm going to do with my life and B. How to tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue. Although no progress has been made on the tongue tying extravaganza, I have realized a few things about myself.

I love academia. Immensely. I love the overwhelming power of books, I love the pencil sharpeners, the professors and their beautifully passionate lectures. I want to be a part of that universe. The universe of Discovering is multifaceted and uncharted (obviously, or it wouldn't be discovering!)
So... I suppose I should either stay in college forever (which would get expensive) or become a professor myself. I'm not sure if I want to teach at the college level, or at the high school level, but I find myself more and more drawn to the college campus. Recently I visited SPU, and being it was like coming home (to borrow the cliche line from myriads of pop songs).

So I'm not sure when/if this dream will happen, but I'm considering it with all seriousness. I'm also considering taking cooking lessons, studying architecture and designing a fashion line.

Dreaming, planning, re-shaping.
Sorry if this is too melodramatic. I'm just rambling.

bah humbug

2009-11-08T12:11:00.000-08:00

I haven't posted in awhile since
A. My poor computer went to the big computer dump in the sky
B. Cyrus is sick and I haven't had a moment to myself
C. I haven't finished the story I was working on to post.

Soo.. until I have an actual update, hang tight!

Halloween

2009-10-31T09:15:00.000-07:00

Every year in college I've gotten a costume for Halloween and gone trick'rtreating. Every year it failed to meet my expectations. It's cold, my costumes are invariably itchy and the candy we get isn't that great. (sugar daddies? c'mon) If they were giving out German chocolate or hand made pastries, maybe I'd enjoy it more. Is that selfish of me? I just appreciate good chocolate, not the waxy Hershey stuff.

I decided that Halloween really is for kids. Once you reach a certain age, it just seems to lose its magic. Cyrus is a bit young for candy (I don't want him destroying his beautiful new chompers on rock candy or caramel filled nestle eggs.) So.. I'm not doing anything for Halloween. Even though I had an awesome costume idea for myself.

If anyone else is doing nothing, come over! We can stay warm and dry and drink hot cocoa and listen to Christmas carols (its officially Christmas season now that its Halloween.
Here's to no trick or treating!
-jasmine

p.s. if you dont have kids and have a party to attend, by all means go. Halloween parties are always a good time!

In honor of the holiday, I'll include some crazy costumes. the dog one \has to be sacrilegious...

Meh.

2009-10-29T21:54:00.000-07:00

"For some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die."
— Anne Lamott (Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life)

I love this quite about literature. I also love the idea that there can be a book of instructions on life. Ha! I used to think that was true... not so much anymore. The more I live (yes, I know I'm only 22, but I have learned a few things during my lifetime) the more I realize how funny and complex and simple and unique and ridiculous life is. Nothing is predictable or even rational. Nothing is sound (as the switchfoot song states. Yes, I know they're an old band, but I still listen. For old time's sake.)

Anyway.. this is a lame update where I rambled on and didnt really say much. But I wanted to write something, so I did.
Ca-pow!

In lieu of anything substantial, enjoy this post from 11points.com.
http://www.11points.com/Misc/11_Photos_Where_Black_People_Were_Awkwardly_Photoshopped_In_or_Out

Motherhood, defined

2009-10-25T11:46:00.000-07:00

I hate the fact that some people view women as "old" once they become moms. Its like they think that once you've had a child you're suddenly out of touch with pop culture, world news, and anything trendy. You know what I mean.

As a mom you must wear the atrocious jeans which do their very best to make your butt look like a pancake, hide any figure you may still possess, proving once and for all that you have "the mom bod".

There is also the mom haircut to contend with. This hideous 'do is designed to make you look fat, old and above all, housewife-ish.
exibit A
(not Kate Hudson in the hot dress. Obviously, moms aren't allowed to wear those)

I know I sounds all shallow and American by only talking about appearances, but I'm not just rebelling against those. I'm rebelling against the ideas behind those things. The whole, lame boring cliche mom who makes cookies and wears aprons and sews matching jumpers for her twins. Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating on the last one. But I don't want to be a stereotypical mom.

Want to know the truth about being a mom (besides the fact that we can, in fact, be trendy, unable to cook, and completely up to date on all slang terms developed on the intranets)?

Being a mom is like running a marathon. With no water. Wearing a blindfold. In the desert. With weights strapped to every part of your body.

But the rewards really are incredible. At the risk of sounding all cliche and syrupy, having a child makes you realize how much you have to be thankful for.

When I spend time with Cyrus, I see things as though they were brand new. I realize how important the little things are in life (yes, everyone says so, but it is true). Being a mom is about breaking the crackers into just the right size, heating the turkey and green pea baby food (that smells like death) to the perfect temperature, and tickling Cyrus under his chin until he squeels with laughter.

And if I were to write this list in 4 months, I'm sure it would be entirely different. Thats the beauty of being a mom. It always changes, and your children never stop growing. As a result, neither do you.

P.S. I also get to eat macaroni and cheese, with a kiddie spoon and drink apple juice from a sippie cup. Yeah, that's right-be jealous.

XCL

2009-10-24T09:41:00.000-07:00

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Dear guys who call me at work everyday

2009-10-22T21:25:00.000-07:00

I really love being called "gir'". It shows, if anything, that your very small brain can detect tonal differences in voices. Congratulations, you are correct-I am, in fact, a girl!

I love your compliments, especially when you tell me that I "sound hott". I'm glad you think so. For all you know I could be a fat old lady with a mustache. Thankfully for you, I'm not. It amuses me that you do not know this.

Thanks for assuming that because I work in the movie rental business I have personal contact with movie stars. I'm flattered that you think I am bffs with Scarlett.

Oh, and if you ever need someone to keep you company while you're wasted, feel free to call. That's what I get paid for! I get to listen to you whine about your life, how you were dumped (again) and that you really want to get laid... all day long.

I'm overjoyed to hear that you love the selection of horror-porn movies we feature, and couldn't be more happy when you ask me to spend an hour on the phone to put them in the order you'd like to watch them. Afterwards when you called back to tell my supervisor you felt rushed off the phone, I was terribly crushed.

Oh, and to the hilarious old man from Arizon-thanks for the joke. You're the only one who seems to be a truly kind soul.

Yoga instructor dude, I wrote your Help Other People Eternaly acronym down.Wise, wise words.

Ah humanity! I love customer service!

The News

2009-10-22T12:40:00.002-07:00

"Come on! Hurry! Could you go any slower?!”
I was yelling at the cashier in my mind, but outwardly I answered her polite “how are you today? with a bright smile.
She rang up my purchases.
“21.56 please”.
She glanced at me, and I thought I saw a slight frown on her lips. It was probably my imagination.
A little girl screamed in the aisle next to me, throwing herself on the ground. Her embarrassed mother hissed at her to get up. The girl didn’t seem to notice.
“Oh god..”
I grabbed my sunny D’s and Digital State of the Art Pregnancy Test. Clear Blue it was called. If was going to get a pregnancy test, I should invest in the best on the market, right?

Josh was waiting for me in the car.
I opened the door and climbed in. “Some kid was crying in the aisle next to me. It was driving me crazy.”
He looked over at me and grinned.
“It’s an omen”
“Don’t be stupid”
A crow landed on the lamppost next to the car. Maybe it was a sign of doom, like the royalty thought in London so long ago.
Now who was being stupid?

Earlier that day, Josh and I went to see my family, who were 3 hours away. I avoided any serious conversation with my mom because in the back of my mind, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. Wrong. Off. I told Josh, and he’d suggested I get the test on the way back.

...Scenes while I wait.

A hummingbird flitted between the red and white flowers outside the neighbor’s window.

Between the couch and the end table, an Apples To Apples playing card refused my effort to un-stick it. I hadn’t noticed it when I cleaned up after our party the night before. Throwing playing cards while drunk is great fun, until you actually have to clean them up.

Finally, the orange juice kicked in and I had to go pee.

More waiting.

I fidgeted with the corner of the box. Read the fine print. Three times.
“Come on… come on..”
The sound of the bathroom fan was scratchy, but fulfilled its purpose as it drowned out the screams of the baby in the apartment next door. That thing sounded like a hyena when it screamed.

“Results as accurate as a doctor’s test,” the box proclaimed. It showed a cute girl with a chubby baby smiling contentedly on the cover. Was it my imagination, or did the girl’s smile look terrified?
My heart thumped loudly in my chest.
I heard a slight beeping noise.
Turned the test over, slowly.
Pregnant.
The word flashed across the gray screen with remarkable clarity.
I shook it. There must be some mistake.
The words didn’t budge.
“Oh god.”
The bathroom walls seemed to cave in on me. Did someone just punch me in the stomach?
I couldn’t breathe.
With sweaty hands I pulled my pants up. Stood on shaking legs and looked in the mirror.
“I don’t look like a mom. I’m 21 for God’s sake. Just hit legal drinking age.”
Turning sideways, I pinched my flat stomach.
It couldn’t be true. I frantically grabbed another test, went pee. Waited.
Again, flashing across the front. Pregnant. There was no mistaking it.
“Oh god. I’m really a mother.”

That was how I found out my life would change forever. Looking back, its hard to believe the way things were without Cyrus. Being a mom is incredible. More on that part later..

6 and counting...

2009-10-22T12:40:00.001-07:00

My life in lists.
1. Bush your teeth!
2. Remember to change Cyrus right after he wakes up to avoid a wet diaper that rivals naira falls.
3. Call the Doctor. Again.
4. Don’t ignore the gnawing in your stomach so long that you almost faint. Eat breakfast.
5. Make “all done, more and please” signs when Cyrus is eating in an attempt to curb his ear piercing screams.
6. Take a shower. Resolve to do crunches. Later, of course.

Mistakes.

2009-10-22T12:30:00.000-07:00

Lily: There are certain things in life where you know it's a mistake but you don't really know it's a mistake because the only way to really know it is a mistake is to make that mistake and look back and say, "Yup, that was a mistake". So really, the bigger mistake would be to not make the mistake because then you'll go your whole life not really know if something is a mistake or not. And dawn I made no mistakes. I've done all of this : my life, my relationship, my career mistakes free. Does any of this make sense to you ?

Ted: I don't know, you said 'mistake' a lot.

This quote from How I Met Your Mother makes perfect sense to me. Basically, it sums up a large part of my life. More on this later...

Dreams.

2009-10-22T12:15:00.000-07:00

I've always had grandiose dreams of becoming an author someday. As a child (probably around 9 years old) I distinctly remember listening to my mother read her worn copy of Little Women, and I knew then that I wanted to write something beautiful. Something that mattered. Words have lasting impact, and I wanted to be a part of that.

Literature is beautiful, unique. It has the ability to inspire my unlike anything else.

So began my research. I found a local self published author and picked his brain on how to become a writer. I read hundreds of books on writing, getting published, and even thought about getting an agent. Most importantly, I wrote. I wrote short stories, I wrote screenplays. I wrote poetry.

When selecting a college I opted to attend a small liberal arts school that had a (supposedly) multifaceted and state of the art creative writing program. I was going to live out my dream! Shortly after joining the creative writing classes I realized that I had already studied most of the techniques that were being taught. Disappointed, I changed my major to communications in hopes of gaining experience in other types of writing. This proved to be a wise career move.

All this is to say, I still haven't given up on my dream. I still write. Mostly for myself. But I wanted to start a blog to share my thoughts about life, and my writing.. even if this is all I ever "publish" at least it is something.

My apologies in advance for any late night philosophical ramblings.