What's Missing

What's playing in my mind right now: Strange Magic by ELO

I used to love someone that I thought was beautiful, smart, funny and caring. He cared about all the right things, like having integrity, presenting himself impeccably and really letting those he cared about know just how much. The steps he took out of his way to make someone feel special truly spoiled those who knew him.

He didn't care about all the right things, like what people thought about him, how hard it would be to complete a task, and how silly he looked while he was having fun.

When he said he'd do something, you never thought twice about whether or not it would be done. And he would do the things that you never thought twice about doing, although you should've.

His work ethic was admirable. His attention to detail was legendary. His drive and his energy changed his very workplace.

He struggled with his own demons, yet never burdened anyone else. He wouldn't lie, and when others told white lies around him, he would actually do what he could to make their lies into truth.

Since he's been gone, I've asked myself if I've only romanticized his memory and made it much more than it was, but I know I haven't. I know by the same memories that others recount in full detail about him. I know by the way that those who knew him still hold him in the highest regard, years after his death.

I know by the way I've subconsciously measured everyone who's come after him, some 30 years later, by the standards he introduced me to.

Very few have even come close, and it's hard for me to accept anything less, even after all these years.

I miss you, LLM. And I hope you know how much.

...comes fresh hope.

What's playing right now: Everything Gonna Be Alright by Ian Tattenham

Why is everyone so quick to be rid of this year? Was it that bad? I guess I didn't notice. Sure, there were a couple of rough spots, but that's to be expected when you play with fire. But honestly, looking back from January to this present moment, I've no complaints and am filled with gratitude.

If you believe that how you spend your New Year's Eve/Day is how you'll spend your year, then I should have buckled myself in for quite the ride. We partied at Slim's, had dessert in the city, and then I fought with Mj.

On January 4th we went to Vegas and I fought with Mj. A week and a half later, Dan, Indy and I spent a week in Santa Cruz. I fought with Mj over the phone.

In February I flew to Hawaii alone and spent four days on a scooter.

At the end of February we stayed in the city for a Mardi Gras ball.

In March, I broke up with Mj.

The year-in-review is coming up, but that's later. Right now I'm trying not to fall asleep while making the point that my NYE was pretty indicative of how I'd be spending a good part of my year. The year did get better as it got older, but there were some pretty rough spots to weather, to be sure.

Do I have any resolutions? Maybe, but I think I'm who I am and probably a great deal of who I'm going to remain.

I would like some things to change for the better, but I think it might be wiser to focus on changing my mindset about the things I'd like to change. Still with me?

There's a point here, really.

I don't want to make empty resolution promises. I don't want to not make any improvements.

I hope for a better year for everyone, and I give thanks for the one I've already had.

Out with the old, in with the new--whatever they may be.

The gift of friendship.

What's playing on the iPod right now: Dream Again by Franz Ferdinand

Merry, merry Christmas!! If Mom and Dad were alive to share it, this would've been the best Christmas of my life. It certainly ranks right up there with some of the more magical Christmases of my childhood. All the right ingredients were in the mix: good food, good drink and good people. More importantly, the right attitude, atmosphere and appreciation of all three.

It's become abundantly clear to all who were here that the lack of negative energy-draining individuals is far more important than how many positive, happy people are present. To a group of people who are as simple as we are, it's hard to understand why anyone can't be as accepting or as loving as we try to be. We befriend, we love, we give, give, give, until we can't/won't give any more.

We embrace those who embrace life. We get angry at those who waste the gift. We wonder why certain people continue to make excuses, waste time and blame everyone but themselves for their bitterness and their unfulfilling lives.

At one point in the day, when everyone had just shared a laugh, I said, "If you're a mean person, you didn't get an invite to hang out with us." The family knew what I meant and some laughed in agreement and others agreed sadly. We all knew it was true.

We all have our issues, but really, is it that hard to spend a few hours with us in friendship, love and respect? Can you not join us as we make jokes with and about each other? Is it that difficult to join in a heated discussion without taking it personally?

And in some particular cases, is it so hard to come to my home and engage in a few polite sentences with me? Especially when I've been the one who's made the effort to remain friends, despite our growing differences?

Apparently, it is. Our "inner circle" changes continuously, but its core remains constant. My family is something I always wanted to depend on, but for years, never thought I could. Turns out I was wrong and adversely, my family is the most consistent dynamic in my life. This lends to my ever-growing holiday joy.

We don't miss those that we don't see across the dinner table. We hope for their continued happiness, but we know that, if patterns persist, they will remain in a state of constant, unhealthy denial.

The ones who awkwardly visit our home for one reason or another, and don't seem to be able to maintain a functioning relationship with me or any other member of the family won't find themselves welcome before too long.

The house is filled with all good gifts that God has given us, and a few we've given ourselves, like the continued company of each other.

Prisms.

What's on the shuffle right now? Gravity by Sara Bareilles (wth?)

I've been working my ass off. I haven't had to work in a long time, and I still don't have to. I took this position because something told me that I shouldn't pass up this amazing opportunity. My guilt kept me from wanting to be away from Indy for too long at any given time, so I hesitated for a few weeks. Now that we've tentatively worked something out, I'm feeling better about the decision.

From 0-60, I've jumped into this, and when I get home at night, it's all I can do to keep from sitting on the couch and falling asleep. I know that the first two weeks at any job can be stressful, so it's okay for now. I'm fighting the urge to do nothing after work, I mean, who wants that to be their day: work, home, sleep. No thanks. Last night I came home, made dinner, ate, cleaned the kitchen, the family room, the living room and then did laundry. I played some Wii Mariokart with Indy and then fell asleep next to him on the couch. Okay, so I did end up falling asleep on the couch, but it wasn't until after I'd been uber-productive.

This isn't a complaint, however. It's a prelude to my actual point.

In moments of quiet contemplation (like I'm allowed in these early morning hours), I'm even more grateful for the ability to do all that I'm doing. I am given what seems like so very much, but is in all actuality the same as everyone else is given. The difference is, I believe.
I believe that the energy is there for everyone. We are given these opportunities and this infinite amount of energy and our responsibility is to direct this energy in the best way possible. We take in the white light of energy and move it forward into the colorful paths that make up our world. No energy=no light=no color.

Corny? Maybe, but this is how I see it, and it's worked for me so far.

...

What's playing on the iPod right now: History of Lovers by Iron and Wine

I'm sure it'll all come to me somehow. The answers. Or maybe more questions. The New Year is around the corner. The Year of the Tiger. Guess what I am?

Please, please, please. Let it come to me somehow. Or let me find my way to it.

I'm grateful for it all, regardless.

Barn's burned down

now

I can see the moon.

-Basho

Leveling off. Chapter 2

I'm sitting on the sand, trying my best to bring some semblance of order to my sketching of the boardwalks at Asilomar. My date, bundled up against the cold wind, sits watching quietly next to me. He puts his head on my shoulder and tries not to fall asleep. The afternoon still has plenty of light left, but I can't stop the feeling that this time with him is passing much too quickly. Soon our weekend will be over and who knows when we'll be able to do this again.

A few months later, I'm sitting in the driver's seat of his car, on a lonely stretch of I-5, watching the sun come up on my left and hearing his soft, sleeping breaths on my right. It's a beautiful sunrise and a song that I can't recall is playing on the radio. I'm sorry that I can't remember the song, because at the time, it felt hand-picked for this moment. We're on our way out of town and I'm happily surprised at the fact that we get to do this again. We've barely begun this trip and I'm already sad that it has to eventually end.

I really must learn to live in the moment, because in this moment, I love this person in a way that's new to even a seasoned romantic like me. But I haven't learned my lessons about life's impermanence yet, and I foolishly let too many moments slip away in worry. I love the road I'm on with him and wonder how long I can continue this journey...

I'm sitting once again in front of my computer, impatient for the rest of the family to wake up. It's only 9:14 a.m. on a Sunday, however, and they have every right to sleep in.

I see my former date on a regular basis. We have ties that should never be broken. But I don't see him romantically anymore. We're close, but we're so far away. The memories that I cling to seem a lifetime ago and even if we wanted to, I'm not sure we could ever go back to the way things were before. I'm trying to see the good in this and hope that we will always be close in one way or another.

And since time has since taught me a few of those valuable-albeit-painful lessons about impermanence and living in the moment, I'm trying to be thankful that he's still here now, in some form or another, and not saddened by the fact that we're not who we were. I still love him dearly, but any hope of recapturing what once was, fades with every day that we forget to tend to the weeds that have grown ugly along the way...

...but in my memory, I still see the sunrise and I still travel down that road.

Leveling off. Chapter 1.

I'm in a large front room of a huge home in San Francisco's panhandle. There are chairs lined up in front of me and behind, theater style. Since we got here early, we were able to score seats on the only sofa in the line up. The weather outside is sunny, but chill with the last of whatever cold winter has left to offer. I'm with someone special, so I've made sure to look pretty, for him and for me. There are snacks and hors d'oeuvres and everyone's milling about in a friendly/subdued/ excited way. I've never heard these guys before, but I can already tell that I'm in for a treat.

Andy McKee and Don Ross are moving to the front of the room and everyone finds their seat. There are large picture windows behind the performers and the trees make a perfect backdrop. My date sits close to me and holds my hand. An older woman (the homeowner, maybe?) introduces Andy and Don and gives a brief, albeit impressive summary of their musical history. I can't wait for them to start. My date has payed a ton of money to treat me to this private concert, and we're both hoping for some amazing memories.

Somewhere in my collection of memorabilia, I have the list of the songs they played in order. I don't know why it was important for me to remember them at the time. Maybe I knew that someday (like now, almost two years later) I would write about that experience.

The room gets quiet and they begin to play their guitars. The room's silence is replaced with music, music that I can hear and see and smell and taste. I can feel it flowing through me and through my date's warm hand. I've never experienced music like this before. I don't look at their hands because the music is coming from them, not their hands. The music is telling what they feel, not just what they can play. I'm excited and happy and relaxed all at the same time. I rest my head on my date's shoulder and look past the performers at the trees swaying in the yard behind them. Even the trees understand how special this is. I don't ever want this concert to end. This is ecstasy...

I'm in my living room, warming up my brain. I've got a book to write and I can't be sleepy or distracted. I put on Andy McKee's CD and sit down to write. The first strains of 'When She Cries' fill up the room and I am right back where I was almost two years ago.

Today I'm no longer with the date that brought me to that concert, but I see him in the same social circles quite often, lately. We're different people with different interests and we both seem to be doing well. I get more than just a passing feeling that this is the way the universe wants it to be. There was a time, at the beginning of this year, that I was a wreck at having lost not the intimacy, but the friendship. We're far from friends now, but at least we can be in the same room and laugh at the same things. We're both better this way. Time passes, and time heals. Life moves and changes and if we're wise, we move and change right along with it. But we can always go back to the moments that brought us joy.

And ecstasy.

Bacon tastes good.

Gretchen is making brunch! Nam and Zack are setting the table outside. It's a warm November day. Warm . November. Awesome.

Indy's playing the Lego Indiana Jones game and I'm about to drag him outside for some bacon.

Dan's at work :( but at least he enjoys his job.

It's all about the moments, and this moment includes good people and bacon.

Breathe in, breathe out. New home=space to breathe.

What's playing on the iPod right now: Is This Love? by Bob Marley

Moved out. Moved in. Unpacked (mostly). Decorated (some). Partied. Cleaned up. More unpacking...

I love our new space, our "big home", as Indy calls it. It's roomy, airy, clean, fresh and has a great energy. And it's quiet, unless we're the ones making noise.

Hmm, my home is a great example for me to follow. While I'm not sure how to make myself more roomy and airy without hurting myself, I know that it's a good thing to be clean and fresh and to have great energy. And being quiet every now and then is a very good thing.

It's easier to handle the unexpected trials and tribulations when you've got a strong home base. I like the way we are here. I like the way we all appreciate our space because it's our space.

I like the way this feeling has carried over into other aspects of our lives. I like the way I am with others. I like the way that I'm reassessing every relationship in my life, and deciding, like I had to with the bulk of my material objects during the move, which are worth keeping, and which I've outgrown.

And I'm especially enjoying the peace that comes with accepting which people work with me and which don't. I've got this storehouse of energy that's renewed daily in my home and I don't want to waste it on anything and anyone that I don't have to. No more ties of false hope or guilt or even family obligation. Just peace in knowing that I've done about all I can. No more pretenses about whether or not to pursue the friendships. What's meant to be will be.

When you're happier for yourself, it's easy to be happier for other people. I love Jack Johnson's line from Banana Pancakes: When the whole world fits inside of your arms, don't really need to pay attention to the alarm, wake up slow, wake up slow. I can't wait for Dan to get home. Our two-person bathtub is a great place to discuss the day.

And even when there's no one home but me, I enjoy the silence and like the person I see in the mirror. If you're reading this, take a deep breath in and out and ask yourself,

What is my breathing space like?

Hope you like your answer!

Trying.

What's playing right now: Nocturne by Yasunori Mitsuda

I did it to myself again.

I let this rainy Monday get to me again. There's really no reason to feel the way I do; things are moving along the way they're supposed to. I've got plenty to look forward to.

Still, here it is. Melancholy.

I'll snap out of it in a minute. I guess it doesn't help that Mitsuda's playing in the background. What an amazing composer. If I throw on something more insane, I'm sure I'll be up and moving furniture or cooking or writing to my soon-to-be agent or something more productive than what I'm doing now.

This quiet is lovely, though.

This house is amazing.

Aw, shit. I'm sick of this emo pity party.

I'm gonna go put up my bed and the new canopy and the Halloween decorations.

We fin ta party this weekend, breh.

Good energy.

From 880, you have to drive over two bridges to get there. Once you find the street, you're sure to think, Ew, tract homes. I agree, they usually have no outer personality of their own and only vary slightly one from the other, but what the street lacks in diversity, it more than makes up for in...sweetness. (Struggling to find a word that describes the way I feel when I'm driving down that street, I was truly surprised to hear that word in my head and think, that fits.)

Unlike the street we live on now, which isn't half bad save for the apartments next door, this new street is winding, narrow, groomed and happy. It's obvious that anyone driving (slowly) down the street is either coming home or visiting. No one's just blowing through.

I cannot wait to hold the keys in my hand. Like a giddy new bride, I can't wait to cross over the threshold and put the first boxes down. Our new landlords, Danny and his mom, have such a great relationship and their residual energy is still present in the house. We're their first tenants and really, I love the positive calm that resonates off the bare, white walls. I would love to paint the walls, but nothing much darker than they are now. The white may be boring, but it's also clean and fresh.

More importantly, I can't wait to try something new.

We've been living a certain way and following certain patterns for years now and I think the time is ripe for a change. All of the positive traditions won't be touched-they're obviously working. The things that need changing are obvious and it shouldn't be too hard to make ourselves aware of them, and start on that 28-day path to new habits.

So thankful am I, that an altar of gratitude is one of the first things I'd like to establish in our new space. God is good and I'd like to show thanks everyday.

Must pack now.

Cheers!

Vacation. Home.

Limbo sucks.

That's where I feel like I am right now. I don't think we've ever had to wait this long to move into a new home. Could be that I'm just an impatient woman. Instant gratification, that's me.

Maybe I suck.

But we've got a whole house to pack and cleaning to do and utilities to switch over and a Birthday party to celebrate and another Halloween party to plan, all before moving day. And Indy's Birthday is tomorrow!

My little monkey boy is going to be six! The magical age of six! Magical for both children and parents alike! They still love toys, Disneyland and their parents. The innocence is still alive, well and heart-warming. We must celebrate all week!

But today, we'll be packing and purging and trying to keep focused on having only the items that we really need and love, go into the boxes. If we can't see it as having a useful place in our new home, it's not coming with us. This seems to be our motto.

We used to have eight people in our home. We've asked four of them to not come with us.

Dan and I are both picturing the home that we've always wanted, the home that we always seem to vacation in, but never come back to. We love our Hawaiian/Asian/Zen-like spaces and have no problem unwinding in their calm, positive settings. In them, moments become moments again, and not just chunks of blurred time that somehow slipped away.

We want to take our shoes off at the door and leave the problems that we've tracked home on their soles, not ours.

Having twice as many people as we really should have living with us made it nearly impossible to not track in all kinds of muck, literally and figuratively. We just can't see that kind of stagnant, negative energy in our new space.

Clean, positive, inspirational, relaxing-these are the four descriptives that we think of when we imagine walking into our home. Somehow, we feel that this will be more possible with less people than before living in it.

Home, sweet uncrowded home.

The Bestest Presents Ever

What an amazing week. 

Some people don't have birthDAYS this good. I had an entire WEEK. 

Roosters for Zack's concert, 

LA for Patrick, Jenna, Santa Monica, Venice Beach and Nine Inch Nails, 

Indy's first day of school,

Amy and Jeremy's yacht wedding on the bay,

Sensei Rios' winning boxing match at the HP Pavilion,

Sensei Julaton's World Champion Title Win at the HP Pavilion,

3 Birthday cakes, 

Fenton's, 

and a partridge in a pair tree. What a week!! And we're still celebrating this Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday!

I love my family and close friends. I love celebrating every little thing that comes along, because 

It isn't how many breaths we take, it's how many moments take our breath away.

A Piece of Cake

"If you want to be happy, be." ~ Henry David Thoreau

Someday, this Birth-week thing will take off and be as common to celebrate as birthdays are now. And I'll be responsible for starting it.

It's so easy to be happy, and not just when your birthday rolls around, but I'm still surprised at how many people find it easier to be miserable. Familiarity? Comfort zone? Laziness?

I get comments all the time about how people see that I'm "living life fully" and how I'm always doing something fun, or something cool, or how they "love my energy". Guess what? As Anais Nin puts it, "Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage." Simply put, you get what you give.

All of the people that seem like they're having the time of their lives really are having the time of their lives, and it's not because these events just happened to fall into their pathways. Speaking for myself, I'm usually playing hard because I've worked hard to get to the playground. Good energy begets more good energy. 

Do we have bad days? Of course we do. Do unfortunate events happen to us? Of course they do. Do we feel sad? Yes. But we try to see the good in each situation and move on to create the next fortunate event. 

Why is this so hard for most people to understand? I really don't have time to analyze this any further. 

I'm getting some cake!!

Choose.

Every day I have two dogs fighting inside of me. One is good and one is bad. 

The one that's winning is the one that I feed most. 

Every day, every moment I get to make a choice: Am I gonna do what's right? Or am I gonna do what I want? Ideally, what I want should habitually reflect what's right. Ideally.

I'm not bi-polar. That's much too simple of a label for someone like me, and really, it's a cop-out. Undecided is not the same as bi-polar. Conflicted is not the same as bi-polar. Forgetful is nowhere near bi-polar. But these three describe the internal struggle that I'm facing each day, each hour, and on busy days, each moment.

I'm finding that it's hardest to choose what's right when I'm tired, or sad, or angry. And it's usually at these times when the need to make the right choice is most critical.

I'd like to be a master at taking a moment to breathe and think, first. In a world where rash decisions abound, and the populace is more accustomed to cleaning up the mess than they are at preventing the blowout, I'd like to be the calm in my own storm.

Hug me.

What the heck is going on? Bruno had to be put down. He suffered a stroke at the dog park and died later at the vet's. Coal got hit by a car and Ella and the rest of the Tatts are doing what they can to raise money for his surgery...if he makes it through the night.

I feel so clingy lately. Even though one of my arms is fractured, I still want to hug like there's no tomorrow.

Because you don't know if there will be.

 I'm not depressed, I'm just happy to have everyone I know and love within arm's reach.

Crowded

"People who care about each other need to come apart every now and then or they'll just come apart completely." ~EM Phillips

San Andreas. Kilauea. Me.

What do these three have in common? We all need to let off a little pressure every so often, or we'll really fuck shit up.

I called a house meeting the other night and proceeded to chew out every one of my housemates for not going the extra step (much less mile) without having to be asked or told.

I told them that they had no sense of pride of ownership and it showed. I told them that they all waited for someone else to take care of business and that when they finally did something for the house, they did it in a half-assed way. At the end of it, I threw my hands up and walked angrily to my bedroom. 

This may sound like a harsh way to handle negotiations, but it worked. In a house this small and with this many people, you need to have someone play the bitchy bad cop, or nothing will get done. I know the pattern: I'll blow a gasket and they'll get their acts together...for a week or so, and then it's right back to where we were. That's okay because we're probably moving soon anyway, and this is the last time some of us will live together. 

Lately I feel like I've been crowded on the outside and the inside. Not only do I have lots of people to share a limited amount of space with, I've been cramming tons of info into my brain and I'm starting to feel overloaded.

Problem is, I don't have anywhere to go to grab some personal space. My bedroom feels as though it's just as crowded as the rest of the house, so I'm only in there to sleep and change. I know we'll have more room soon enough, but really, it doesn't feel like it'll be soon enough.

I picture myself walking down a less-crowded street, beach, park, etc. and it feels relaxing to even daydream about it. 

This is what keeps me going, but I swear, I could use a vacation.

Hell, even Superman had the Fortress of Solitude.

Green.

After four pre-tests, I passed my green-belt test. Think about the hardest test you've ever taken. Think about the pre-test prep and all of the stress that preceded it. And if it happened to be a test that you had to take in front of an audience, think about all the pre-test jitters from thinking about how you could bomb terribly in front of all your peers, or people you don't know.

Now multiply that by five. This is what I've been going through for the past couple of weeks. All because someone whose opinion I value said that my Sifu was crazy for trying to put me up for my test so soon. 

Someone else's limitations on what I can or can't do wave in front of me like a red flag in front of a bull. 

I worked extremely hard, I focused and I did it. 

Crazy? Yeah, crazy like a fox.

Contemplation

Last night in the shower, I had an epiphany. 

A shower is the perfect place to have a pity party. You can cry and cry (quietly, of course) and all your tears, and eventually your negative thoughts, wash away, down the drain.

I needed this pity party. I have been working so hard, so hard to get to a certain place in my life, and I'm so unfamiliar with the feeling that I may not be able to get there right now.

I am not a quitter. I pride myself on doing what anyone tells me I can't do. Over a month ago someone said that I was "crazy" to try to test for my green belt this Saturday. True to form, over a month ago, I decided to test for my green belt this Saturday.

I don't know what's wrong, but something's not clicking the way it has before my previous belt tests. It's not that I haven't tried to learn the material quickly and thoroughly, I have. It's not that I haven't put in enough hours...or is it? I keep thinking I'd have this down if I only had one week more, but I don't. 

Why would I even consider not testing?  Simple: I don't want to have a half-assed test and fail it. I'd rather postpone it till December and have a better, stronger test.

But whether I test or not won't be decided until tomorrow night, and this uncertainty is harder to take than all of the testing put together. I would love to join the rest of my family on the mat, but I might just have to accept the fact that I'd be better off being better prepared. 

There's a strange calm that comes with knowing that you've done everything you can, and you may just have to accept what you can't change. I don't want to just squeak by. That's for amateurs.

I'm supposed to be an expert.

Sigh

I don't wanna fall I don't wanna fly 

I don't wanna be dangled over the edge

of a dying romance

but I don't wanna stop, I don't wanna lie

I don't wanna believe it's over

I just wanna stay with you tonight.

I didn't mean to scream out quite so loudly 

when we screeched to a halt

I'm just never prepared for the end of the ride

If there's nothing left, can you tell me why that it is

you're holding on to me 

like it's the end of the world?

~The End of the World , Matt Alber

If ever there was a year that was spent learning about life, love and myself in general, 

this would be that year. And we're only in August. 

Going into detail and recounting every important thing that I've learned, big and small, would be more suited for an "end of the year" blog, and frankly, would probably be long and boring. So...

In a nutshell:

I've learned that it's not a bad thing to love. It's a bad thing to love for the wrong reasons. Love alone can't fix things. Love and respect should always go hand in hand. True love feels "right".

There are so many different types of love and it's important to remember not to confuse one for another. 

I've learned that I don't need to beat myself up for mistaking one kind of love for another. I've learned that I don't feel as bad as I did a couple of months ago, and I know that (God willing) I'll feel even better a couple of months from now. 

I've learned that no matter how much you love someone, you can't make them love themself. 

You can't make them truly love themself.

I've learned that it's okay to admit that you still love someone you shouldn't love, as long as you understand why, and why not. Human beings should love each other, after all.

I've learned that it's okay to cry, because grieving is an important part of letting go. 

I've learned that this might go on for a while, but really, I get the feeling that it's almost over.

As Indy laughs and sings while Dan reads him a book, I'm reminded of just how right true love can feel, and how it's a gift that keeps on giving its best, even when I'm at my worst. 

I...

...don't even know what to say. I'm tired. I'm pleased with tonight's performance. I'm thankful that my family's all home safe. I'm sad that my brother is still not free. I'm anxious about tomorrow's format. I'm anxious about next week's belt tests. I'm excited about next week's belt tests. I'm excited about Zack's upcoming red-belt presentation. 

I'm disappointed,  annoyed and angry at the way all of this BART drama is being played out. I'm worried about my BART family. I'm pissed at BART management. I'm curious about District 9. I'm indifferent about my exes. I'm loving my family. 

I'm feeling loved. 

I would elaborate, but it's late and I've got to get some rest before tomorrow.

Hoping, praying and WORKING hard for the best.

"Fall seven times, stand up eight."

~Buddhist saying

I'd be so happy if things went like this: 

August 22: the entire family passes their belt tests strongly. 

September 3 :we watch Zack perform at Rooster's and drive out to L.A. after the performance. 

September 4 :we enjoy a crazy BIRTH-day in L.A.

September 5 : we go to the NIN concert at the Wiltern. We go to Toi after for Thai and star-watching.

September 12: My birthday party.

This is how I'd like things to go, but even the best-laid plans...

We really need this belt test. We like to push ourselves. We need to celebrate, after. We've had some really serious curve balls thrown our way, and at the time, we weren't even holding a bat. We've been hit pretty hard, and some days, it's all I can do to keep from crying.

My mind has been wandering to places it should never go, and this upcoming black-belt board has helped both my body and mind to stay where they should be. Kinda reminds me of a scene from Star Wars: 

Gold Leader: It's no use. I can't maneuver!

Gold Five: Stay on target.

Gold Leader: We're too close!

Gold Five: Stay on target!

Yup. Half of me is Gold Leader and the other half is trying to stay on target. 

I wonder if the Gold Team ever cried when no one was looking? I know I do.

Priorities

After fighting, everything else in your life got the volume turned down.

This is a big month for me. In 11 days, I'll know whether or not I have what it takes to be a green belt. 

I love my martial arts school. I just recently found out that the US team, led by our founder, Master Lee, was the first overseas team to win the World Champion Kung Fu Competitions held in China. My idol, Master Flint was on that team.

In our system, getting to a blue belt is the equivalent of getting to most other schools' black belts. In a nutshell, other schools don't put you through half as much as our school does to earn your next rank.

I'm finding out a lot about myself. I know that I have more than I thought I did. I know that I could defend myself, if I had to. I know that no one's gonna put my head through a window, or punch me without me seeing it coming. This isn't to say that I couldn't be the victim of a violent crime; I'm simply saying that I've worked long and hard enough at this to make it second nature. 

There are so many distractions around me. As I've said before, there's always something going on; it's up to us to decide what to listen to and what to ignore.

I could be completely disheartened at the turn of events that are preceding this belt test, but I'm turning the volume down on everything else until after the end of this month. I'm in West Wind almost every day now. We all are, including Indy, and it feels good.  

All the other stuff will just have to take a backseat. My sights are set on the wearin' o' the green...

Powering Through

"Continuous effort - not strength or intelligence - is the key to unlocking our potential."

~Winston Churchill

Ironically, it's a calm, quiet type of pride that accompanies each of my accomplishments. I hoot and holler for everyone else, but smile gently inside at myself. 

I performed last night with my family and then broke bricks today at kung fu. 

More later, as I'm presently falling asleep...

Harder Days.

I've had better days.

I don't know what hurts more, the physical or the emotional prison.  Either one can become too unbearable at times. 

I'm hurting because my brother's hurting. I hear his pain and I can't begin to fathom his desperation. 

I just want to give him his freedom again. I want to give him another chance. I thought we were on our way to getting him a better way of life.

There's so much going on right now. But, really, there always is. We just know what to pay attention to and what to deny. 

There is no way to deny this. 

And I'm scared.

Better Days

"Without forgiveness life is governed by an endless cycle of resentment and retaliation."  ~Roberto Assagioli

"To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you."~Lewis B. Smedes

The sky is cold and gray outside and I'm glad. 

For someone who's been fighting seasonal affectiveness disorder for the past ten years, this is really saying something. 

See, I've been deleting old photos again (it's a slow-going process for reasons that follow) and the weather fits my mood perfectly, like a big old coat that's there when you're freezing. My usually-preferred bright, blue sky would just make me feel stupid right now. In this gray gloom I can indulge my bittersweet sadness, but only for a little while.

I'm so, so sorry that things turned out this way. There are two sides to my romantic life: the loving, giving side that will open a vein for you and bleed to fill your needs; and the angry, bitter side that wears Iron Man armor and rages at the very mention of your name. An hour or so of viewing happier times has cut through the armor like Wolverine's blades. 

I've been on a bit of a super hero kick this morning. Don't know why. Bear with me.

I'm sorry that I gained a friend, fell in love with my friend, broke up with my friend and worst of all, lost my friend. 

Through these old photos, I'm re-living the better days of laughter and the sweetness of being close to someone you like...and love. I can hear the voices and feel the warmth. 

Even though I knew it wouldn't last forever (what really does?), I eschewed all the "better judgment" choices. I even knew that I'd eventually get hurt, but I also knew that the experience would be worth it. No "woman in her right mind" would have gotten involved with someone so many years her junior.

What the hell does that mean, anyway? From my understanding, the left brain is logic, fact and detail-oriented , vs the right brain, which is feeling, imagination and big-picture-oriented. Okay, I must've been in my right mind. 

Only a woman in her right mind would be smart enough to know that some of the moments she would experience were only available to someone brave enough to ignore everyone in their left mind. Anyway...

I'm sorry that something so special went so wrong. I'm sorry for not being as affectionate as I could've been at times. I'm sorry for being too enabling when I should've been holding back. I'm sorry for not setting aside more time. I'm sorry for being closed-minded at times. I'm sorry for thinking this was more than it was. I'm sorry that the door to communication is closed. I'm sorry that I can't bring myself to opening it again. I'm sorry that we live in the same state. 

Out of sight helps with the out-of-mind part, but I'm not done deleting these pictures yet. My guard is down, and that's a vulnerable state for me to be in. I was told that this processing thing is a healthy part of moving on. Moving backward for a little while really helps with moving forward. I'm done with talking to this friend in the present and most likely, in the future. Outside my window the day is gray and gloomy. 

But here in the past, in these pictures, we're still close and the sun is shining. I'll feel these feelings for now, file them away, and look forward to those better days without him.

Winds of Change

Winnie the Pooh: Happy "Winds-day", Piglet.

Piglet: [being blown away] Well... it isn't... very happy... f-for me.

Winnie the Pooh: Where are you going, Piglet?

Piglet: That's what I'm asking myself, where? W-Whoops! P-P-P-Pooh!

Winnie the Pooh: And what do you think you will answer yourself?

It's that time again. I'm trying to simplify. One partner, three sons, two passions: music and martial arts. Everything else is icing. (And too much icing makes you fat!)

We want to move.

I've been accused of having an incurable case of wanderlust. I've been called a "gypsy" and a "nomad", and I used to take offense at this. Not any more.

The great thing about growing older is that you grow up. Sticks and stones no longer break your bones, especially when you understand that those who are hurling the objet d'hurt are usually envious of whatever it is you're doing.

Why don't you just settle down and buy a house? 

Yeah, this is what I've heard for years. We make enough to buy a house. It's the "settling down" part that doesn't appeal to us. It's the fact that we'd be tied to one particular area for years before being able to consider selling and moving. This may be a good thing to you, but I know, without a doubt that we wouldn't be the multi-faceted people that we are without the exposure to the different settings that pepper our past. 

The most boring people we know are the ones that have remained too long in one place. 

Think about that.

I want to move. I love Alameda, but our space, despite its amazing location, is too small and too crowded. Even if it were filled with only my immediate family (and that hasn't happened in years!), it still lacks the required space to give each other space. Like my mother before me, I'm too communally-wired, always inviting those in need to stay a while...a looong while.

Don't know what it is exactly, but I need some space. And so the search begins, or continues, as I'm in the middle of checking out leases. Alameda is an island paradise and I'm hoping to get a place close to where we are now, but it looks like we may actually be moving to San Pablo. 

What?? Back to the hood??!!

I know, I know. Despite my years of chanting "location, location, location" to keep away the ghetto demons that lure unwary house-hunters back into crime-infested jungles with the timeless temptation of lower rents, I have found a space and it's love at first, second and third site.

And it's in the hills. 

There something about being above sea level that instantly provides you with a feeling of safety. Maybe it goes back to the days of castles with high towers, built on hills. I don't know, but the house is wonderful. Besides the pre-req living room, dining, kitchen, blah, blah, blah, there are three bedrooms, one loft, a huge basement and laundry room. This all translates to: 

SPACE, mofo.

I don't have to see you, if I don't want to, and vice-versa. 

We don't have the house yet, but the point is, we're looking for space. Even if this isn't the one we end up with, the need to breathe and the need to move about freely are forefront in our decision process. There is also a faboo home on Bay Farm Island, which is also considered part of Alameda, and this home has a ton of space, as well. We'll see...

Wow, the simplification process continues. Who am I and what have I done with the real me?

Oh really?

Just when you think you've got it down, just when you think you know what you're doing and where you're going...

Yes, I believe. Yes, I think there's a plan. No, I'm not pompous enough to think that I'll be privy to all of it right now.

But what happens when I don't know what to do and I'm not sure of who I can turn to? This is all uncharted territory for me and I'm afraid the shock will thaw and I'll really feel the weight of this burden.

I'm not trying to be cryptic, but I'm still trying to protect the innocent, if they truly are innocent. If they're not, and are proven guilty... I can already feel one of my walls start to crumble. 

I'm thankful that everyone I know and love is healthy, and for the most part, happy. I give thanks to my God for that every day. 

I just wasn't prepared for this detour. 

Life's a journey though, right? And do all journeys follow a straight line? 

Rarely. 

Amazing what you take for granted along the way. 

Help me to help myself.

Scumbag

Wow. Some people never cease to surprise me with their rudeness, cowardice, immaturity and lack of social skills.

If someone calls you, asks you politely to call them back, tells you that it's really important, 

what do you do?

Even if you don't like that person,

You call them back.

That is, if you are man enough to do so. Apparently, I've wasted my time on immature little assholes who don't know enough about courtesy or manners to do so. 

I'm so glad my parents raised me better than their's ever even tried to.

And I'm so glad I came to my senses and realized that they are a part of my past,

and have no place in my future.

Fuck you, scumbag. Keep sowing your own karma.