Shhh. Breathe. And really try to listen...I'm running out of things to say.

Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death. ~Anaïs Nin

To an old friend.

I'm glad we're talking again. We didn't handle the separation very well, did we? Glad to see we're past that. Some of our recent conversations have stumbled along as awkwardly as they did years ago, when we first started talking at length. Not surprising, considering all the time in between, and the water that's still slowly receding under the bridge.

And then there are the words that sound and feel all too familiar, and I'm reminded of where we were, two years ago. Good and bad.

This post isn't about blame; I forgave and forged on a long time ago. We, as former inamorate, seem to be at peace with each other. We, as current confidants, seem to have found our way out of the eggshell field and into the quicksand. Sure, we can talk freely, but we can't move forward. We've been here before.

In the two years that have passed since we were close, I learned more about learning than I had in my entire life. I've learned that there is way too much to learn to ever think I'm done learning. I've learned that I can only learn so much while standing in the same spot, day in and day out. I've learned that I can only learn so much from the same people I see every day. And I've learned how to be happy.

I already know how you feel; you felt the same way when we were together. You're still looking for something external to provide your happiness. Here are a few things that I'd like to teach you as you continue to search for happiness in all the wrong places:

A recent study revealed that what you need to feel happy is enough cash to live comfortably -NOT lavishly. More money than that won't buy more happiness.

I know this is hard to accept during these tough economic times, but it's true. Money can buy more material things, and more free time to play with them, but if you're not happy with you -the YOU that you are now - money will only serve as a means to buy distraction.

Money costs time.

Making more money means working more hours. You've got to weigh financial gain against social sacrifice and determine which has more priority in this moment.

Experiences are worth more than material things.

Personally, my first house-concert experience, or my trip to Seal Beach meant more to me than any material good that I received that year. They still do. Don't worry about acquiring more stuff; focus, rather, on experiencing more of life with people who matter.

Giving makes you happier.

There is an unadulterated joy that comes from a selfless act. Volunteer time, give to charity, help out a friend. I truly believe that the best you is the you that will emerge after you return from building and repairing houses in Tanzania, or teaching conversational English to teens in Romania.

When you ask me how I am, I intentionally hold back and say something like, "Meh," when the truth is, I'm really feeling wonderful. I'd love to see you finally feeling that way about yourself. Your discontent has been abundantly clear for a long time now, and the distractions only keep you from knowing who you are and how to help yourself. I've found the best way to find yourself, as Gandhi says, is to lose yourself in the service of others.

www.globalvolunteers.org is a great place to begin finding yourself.

Insanity is defined as "trying to do the same thing over and over, while expecting a different result." When will you try something different? You're not getting any younger and no one is promising you that you'll get to try again tomorrow.

It's slipping away. Look how fast these years flew by, and here you are, still wondering why you don't feel happy. No amazing tale ever came from the unhappy hero who stayed exactly where he was.

I hope you're listening. More importantly, I hope you can hear me.

There is no spoon.

Revelation at 4am:

I can do what you can't do. Sorry I don't fit into your pigeonhole, but the same rules that apply to everyone else, don't apply to me.

I'm not "any other woman." Never have been, never will be.

Fuck PC, I'm not political.

It's pretty simple: This is who I am; stick around, or leave. We all have choices, even if some of us are afraid to make them.

I'm most true to myself, and this is the greatest liberator of all.

Needer, needer, needer.

The good, the bad and the tired.

Ten men waiting for me at the door?
Send one of them home, I'm tired.
~Mae West

It's my own fault that I'm so tired, but the acknowledgment doesn't make me feel any better. It's my birthday week still, and I've worked my ass off for the past couple of days. To the point of tears, actually, but again, that's my fault.

I'm so stoked about this weekend, but honestly, I'm thinking it'll be the last of the big parties at my house until the holidays. Something always comes up and even if someone's promised to help out, something always keeps that from happening. Last night I didn't want a mere two hours of help, after I'd been cleaning all day, but I guess two hours would've been better than none. Still, the way that turned out, I think it's better that I didn't get the two hours. It would've been a strained situation (what, with my weepy and angry self trying to finish up before the band arrived). And really, the way that my expected help handled my cranky demeanor was completely unacceptable, and I fear, may have permanently damaged an already flailing relationship. I really don't see how this one can be repaired. Maybe it's for the best; I've got a more than a couple of people that I really want to visit with coming to the party on Saturday, and I just don't have time for any more bullshit on my birth-week. That's just inconsiderate.

What's that saying? If you can't handle me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best.

Moving on, I also got some really good news today, and I'm hoping for the best. If things come to fruition, I'll be too busy to worry about much else. And I'll get to take that little vacation that I've so desperately needed, maybe even with a couple of those people from the party.

Wow, I think I feel a second wind coming on.

Clear day. Finally.

What's playing on the iPod: Red Dead Redemption (downstairs on the TV)

Today was a summer day. Unbelievable. I mean, it's only taken two and a half months, but hey, we got our summer day. I gotta quit being so demanding. Asking for a few weeks of summer in August is a little much.

Still, it was a great summer day. We heard some music at Rock the Bells while dropping Zack off. I went last year. It's a great way to spend a day.

Patrick Bear Grylls led us as we hiked the cliffs near Half Moon Bay, climbed up trees and down gorges; we saw a pair of red-tailed hawks hovering above and a few dolphins swimming along the coastline.

We hiked down to the beach and played on the sand; we put our feet in the water; we carved our names in the hillside.

We visited Cameron's Pub and Restaurant in HMB and ate some damn good food; we took the long way home and had dessert in the Castro. I've still got some left.

We drove home and bathed and relaxed. Indy's asleep next to me. He was a little trooper and loves to hike with his brother, matching REI backpack and all.

The day would've been complete if Zack had been with us, but he was enjoying his day with Method Man and Snoop and the RZA, and the lovely Lauryn Hill.

So cool to have Joey with us again, and always nice to have the Mexican. ;)

I need more of this. I need a week of this. I know it's a lot to ask, but only the squeaky wheel gets oiled. The open mouth gets fed, etc.

I need a vacation. I need a vacation. I need a vacation. There's no place like Hawaii. There's no place like Hawaii. Squeak, squeak, squeak.

Reality barks and bites.

You can say and say and say what you want, and live in your fantasy world, but

reality talks louder than you do.

And your actions scream louder still.

Reality stings more than denial, but I'd rather cut off my arm than continue to take a thousand little jabs.

And there's always someone who's happy to help me heal. There usually is, when I'm thankful for all the good in my life. When I shed my pathetic, self-depricating skin, I wear my joy well, and it becomes a magnet.

Like attracts like, and that's my chosen reality.

One step back, two steps forward...with a different dance partner.

What's playing on the iPod: Lucid Dreams by Franz Ferdinand

It's okay if you don't know how to dance; it's not okay if you don't want to learn.

Some people just think they can get by with only a few little movements here and there. It's true, they can get by, but I'm not looking for a partner who can just get by.

I'm looking for someone who knows how to dance, someone who knows how to sweep me off my feet every now and then.

The same old, tired dance is only appealing to me because of its familiarity, not because it has anything new to offer me, to excite me. Looking back, I see that it's been a long time since it has, and each time I think we're ready to try new steps, I realize that one of us really can't hear the music. It's not that we hear a different beat; one of us isn't interested in learning anything new. I want to get back at least half as much as I give out. No, actually, I want just as much.

I don't really need this buzzkill. I know plenty of exciting dances with the right partners, especially my permanent partner. Get him in the right arena and he shines.

I keep telling myself that something better will come along, and I think it finally has. We'll see.
Even if it hasn't yet, I'll keep my dancing shoes on...

Gasoline dreams.

What's playing on the iPod: nothing. I'm listening to the sound of rain on my sound machine.

Romance is not expensive. Romance doesn't have to be complicated. But keeping romance alive and well is tantamount to keeping gasoline in my favorite ride.

I am running out of gas, and looking for a new filling station. I keep turning down help from the local roadside assistance and good samaritans alike, in the hopes that my vehicle will make it back to my favorite fueling point. But what happens when that well is also choking back the last bits of dust, and wondering, as well, when the schedule will allow a re-fuel for all?

A word in private.

What's playing on the iPod: Come To Me by Bjork

Now that I have the 321balance blogsite, I feel like a neglectful parent who's abandoned one of her older children.

This site is closer to my core. Just as I'd never air my dirty laundry to my neighbors, neither would I divulge too much of my emotion to the majority of my internet family.

I'm okay. I have my good days and my bad days.

But my secrets are:

I listen more to what's inside than what's outside. I trust myself more.

When you know that you're taking the high road, it's easy to make decisions. Staying close to the Golden Rule is the surest way to keep on that road. The longer you travel that road, the greater the tally of good choices. The more you make, the easier it gets to trust yourself.

It's an astonishing cycle.

And when I fall?

I blame someone else. :)

Seriously, though, I do love being able to pour my heart into this online journal. It's private, but it's not.

I'll try to keep it up more often.

For now, here's a tidbit~

I just arranged drum lessons for myself. Rock and roll.

Not so broken. Not so apathetic.

Charlie: They'll find us. They have satellites in space that can take pictures of your license plate.
Sayid: If only we were all wearing license plates.

Oh my goodness. The cashier at Cost Plus started to tell me that yesterday she had a really bad day. "I mean, a really, really bad day." I understand that all she really wanted was someone like me to tell her that everything would be all right, after she politely asked how I was. I knew she really wasn't interested in how I was. And so I told her, without hesitation, that today was indeed a new day. She saw the hope and sincerity in my eyes and was grateful.

Yesterday I was almost completely apathetic. Today I decided to open my mind. My heart is still a little guarded, and understandably so. My reasons are my own, dear reader, but that's not what's important here. After opening my mind, the Universe taught me one lesson after another. Some stung a little more than others, but I learned a little in the process.

I'm not going to say that everything's fine. I'm sure that everything just is.

Sayid was one of my favorite characters for a dozen reasons, but mostly because he was so practical. His lack of emotions in his past had led him to an overly-emotional state, which led him to the island. While on the island, his emotions were once again guarded, then tortured (ironically) and then, (even more ironically) lost.

In my not-so-humble opinion, Sayid was at his best when he was on a mission, when he had goals. He was intelligent, resourceful, brave and deadly. He was also sad, skeptical and caring, despite himself. A broken teddy bear with weapons, if you will.

He didn't have time to delve into the islanders' drama. He was usually focused on getting them off of the island. The drama served no purpose and only hurt him when he did get involved.

I'm thinking of surrounding the treadmill with posters of some of the characters that influence me in positive ways. Naveen's Sayid is definitely one of those people.
And besides all of his character's charms, he's one tasty truffle.

Apathy. Broken.

Hate is not the opposite of love; apathy is.
~Rollo May

I'm trying, but I can't feel much. Maybe it's because I haven't slept right in a week; maybe it's because I'm hormonal; more than likely, it's because I felt something inside me break a little bit this past week, and despite the emotional high of being present at a baby's birth, I'm feeling like Sayid during the last few episodes of LOST. Or not feeling, rather.

There's lots more that I'd like to post here, but I'm fading fast. More on this topic tomorrow.

Limbo? More like lame-bo.

What's playing on the iPod right now: Please Don't Ask Me

Ah, limbo. What a lovely space to hang out in while you're waiting to see what happens next.

-Insert exceedingly clever sarcastic comment here.-

Such a funny word, too. Sometimes I hear it in my head as "leem-boh", as in "Everybody leem-boh!" and I picture people in beachwear trying to shimmy their way under a pole, while island music plays into the night.

And other times, I envision a sad, Calvin-Kline commercial voice whispering a breathy "limbow" while monochromatic Salvador Dali-like images of clocks and people float in and out of focus.

For an instant-grat girl like me, the latter depiction of waiting in limbo can be hell. I'm not disciplined enough to thwart the what-if's and worst case scenarios that roll fog-like over my good thoughts. I pre-wallow in the muck and mire, so as not to be caught off guard, should the worst case come to fruition. Silly, silly, I know. Did I mention that I'm still honing my good-thought processes?

I should also mention that I'm the one who threw myself into Limboland last night, so I'm not looking for tea and sympathy. Well, actually, tea would be nice. Still, no matter how I got here, it's infinitely worse than hanging out at the DMV. And you know how pointless that can be.

But, despite having dual-citizenship in the land of limbo and the here and now, I've always been able to handle the not-knowing with the help of the one constant in my life:
hope.
I keep hope alive and it's consistently returned the favor.

Until time and proof (the enemies of hope) march in with the stoic determination of the police and street sweepers at midnight on Mardi Gras, and order me to move on, I have hope.

Do you hear that out there in blog-follower land? I have hope.

Just remember that midnight is right around the corner.

Happy Monday! Oh, wait...it's Tuesday!

Off to the farmers market, and then to organize, clean and work out. Right at this moment, I have everything I need. There are a couple of things that I want, but they're material things that I really don't need. Constant craving can indeed be neutralized by deep breaths and contemplation. I'm focused on making my surroundings even more enjoyable than they already are. A little tweaking here and there ought to do the trick.

So my attitude reflects my realization and my Tuesday calls for my attention, so that my loved ones can reap the benefits of my labor :) This life of gratitude is usually right at my doorstep, waiting for me open up. What a lovely thing.

Happy Tuesday!

Ugh.

Sometimes you just feel...ugh. Nothing looks right, nothing fits right, nothing works right.

But that's just because it's late and you're tired and you can't believe things will be better tomorrow.

But you really do believe.

That's why you're still here.

But for right now,

ugh.

We are the Champions.

What's playing on the iPod right now: You Gotta Fight by the Beastie Boys


The only disability in life is a bad attitude. ~Scott Hamilton

Perfect. Even the Beastie Boys agree with me. The shuffle feature is like a musical 8 ball of fate.
I search for messages from the Universe, sent to me via the next random song.

I've realized that I looooove to work out. I love to sweat and I love to glow. I love the way I feel during the next couple of days when my body's sore. I love it when my muscles reflect my effort.

I took too much time off and forgot how great this feels, but I think I'll be sticking to this idea of getting at least four good workouts in each week. I've got a bike, weights, my own two feet and soon I hope to have another treadmill. I've got what I need to get my sweat on.

Right now my abs, glutes, quads and hams are all sore. Even after 228 combined upper, lower and oblique crunches, coupled with 10 miles of walking and biking in the past 48 hours, I'm wondering if my muscles will heal soon enough for me to go biking in Santa Cruz this weekend.

I'm not where I was last year, when this picture was taken - spending 6 days of the week in the dojo, training for the tournament or the belt test, but I am remembering how good it felt.

I used to feel sorry for people who couldn't find the motivation to get up, get out and get going, but after seeing the man who waterskied with no limbs on a youTube video, I really don't have that much compassion left. I'm trying, though.

After all, I was 42 when I trained for my first marathon and 46 when I got back into the martial arts. If I can create my own motivation, so can everyone else. The trick is to love yourself enough to treat yourself well.

But then again, what do I know? It's not like that's a gold medal around my neck. ;)

On second thought, shhh...

What's playing on the iPod right now: Santa Ana Winds by the Cold War Kids


The cyclone derives its powers from a calm center. So does a person. ~Norman Vincent Peale

I heard what I wanted to hear, but it wasn't what I really wanted to hear.

I said what I'd waited to say, but it wasn't what I really meant.

And now I can't help but feel bad for an old friend. But in the center of it all is a calm that comes with knowing that I only want the best for him. I hope things work out for him soon. And I hope they keep working out, for the better.

Anticipation.

What's playing on the iPod right now: Who Cares?

Expecting is the greatest impediment to living. In anticipation of tomorrow, it loses today.
-Lucius Annaeus Seneca

I know, I know. This isn't my usual family-friendly photo accompaniment. Whatever. We're all adults here, right? Get over it. I just love this pic. Reminds me of my Olivia favorites...

It's been a great week so far, and look at that! It's only Monday. I was thinking in the shower again (which is where my best ideas hit me, at least when I'm not singing) and I realized that this is a great time to be me. My family is together and well; my book has an agent response; I'm in a commercial on Thursday, and we were asked to perform again in a couple of weeks.

I was tempted to let my mind wander forward to any one of the three upcoming events, but I knew I would be operating on auto pilot during the process.

I could be thinking, Oooo, yay, a commercial! I wonder when it'll air? Will my family like it?
Instead of, Wow, this warm water feels fabulous on my naked skin.

I could be thinking, My first book deal! Will this make us financially worry-free?
Instead of, The sound of Indy laughing in my room is the best music to my ears.

I could be thinking, Another performance! I wonder what songs the band will want to do this time?
Instead of, The smell of lavender body wash is very relaxing.

In this moment I have everything I want and need. Even if none of my plans turn out as well as I'd anticipated, I can remember this moment and that it was perfect.

Scrambled Eggs.

On the one hand we have the innocence and joy of the children who wake up to chocolate bunnies and the thrill of the Easter egg hunt; on the other hand we have the "adults" who kill death in video games, threaten their parents with putting rest homes on speed dial and throw peanut MnM's at each other.

And in the middle somewhere, we have a house full of big kids who laugh, eat, play, joke and love to be together, especially during the holidays.

We may be scrambled, but we're a bunch of good eggs.

Some late night thoughts.

If we're honest from the beginning, does that make it any better?

Sometimes we fall on purpose,

so that we can let someone else pick us up for a change...

Wasted Time?

What's playing in my head? Wasted Time by the Eagles

Time is the wisest counselor of all. ~Pericles

My blood sugar level is low...my disconnected thoughts will probably reflect this. If I leave this computer, however, the dozens of distractions outside of my bedroom door will guarantee that this never gets written. And I really wanna write this one. I hated writing the other ones and had a gun to my head, btw.

Riiight.

Before my friend/first love/mentor died, we had a conversation that I can still remember clearly. (And don't be sad for me, or him. He was too good for this world and deserved to be in a better place.) He told me, among other things, that he tried not to waste time regretting anything. He believed everything happened according to a plan. He spent his time trying to help others, and as far as I knew, did everything he could to keep from hurting anyone. It's easier to have no regrets when you live your life taking the higher road.

I spent a good part of last year regretting choices I had made. I spent the last part of the year reevaluating relationships that had run their course. I spent the beginning of this year angry at myself for wasting so much time before letting go of those regrets and relationships. I was mad at myself for a decade of behavior worthy of Sisyphus. I wanted to take back my years and the huge pieces of my heart that I'd given along with them. I was wasting more time regretting all the wasted time. In Hades, there was a rock and a hill somewhere with my name on them.

Ahhh, the lightness of being regret-free. Time heals all, including the desire to inflict more pain on myself, thank goodness. I'm not mad anymore. At them. At me. "They" were all great while they were a part of we. They are still great and a part of we in my memories.

They shared. They endured. They taught. They taught me everything I couldn't learn on my own. For that alone, I am grateful that they were a part of my life.

Clouded in anger, I viewed a great deal of my time spent with them as an uphill battle. Now, in a calmer, clearer state, I see the path I walked with them as part of a great labyrinth. Dan told me that labyrinths are meant to be walked on while pondering a particular problem. The solution usually presents itself by the time you've reached the middle. A great deal of us have no idea who we really are until we walk deeper and finally, find ourselves inside.

Time spent in love is never wasted time.

"So you can get on with your search, baby
and I can get on with mine
and maybe someday we will find
that it wasn't really wasted time."

-Don Henley/Glenn Frey

She's leaving town. And then she's writing about it.

What's playing on the iPod right now: She's Leaving Town by the Beatles

By and large, mothers and housewives are the only workers who do not have regular time off. They are the great vacationless class. ~Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Ten minutes ago, I decided that we're taking a little vacation this weekend. Oh, I know, with only a weekend to do it, it's more like a "getaway." Whatever. Vacation sounds better. Besides, "Laughter can be an instant vacation," according to Milton Berle - thus reinforcing my theory that it's not the amount of time spent away, it's what you do with it. Quality versus quantity, again.

There are those who do and those who blog. While watching Anthony Bourdain make fun of people who blog about their food, rather than enjoy their food, I realized that there are those who do and then have something to actually blog about, and then there are those who pretend to do, or don't do at all, and have nothing substantial to say about it later (or during, as in the case of the food bloggers).

I try harder than anyone I know to do and then have something to say about what I've done, motherfucker. ;)

I don't blog about martial arts tournaments without going through the blood, sweat and tears of competing in one.

I don't blog about riding in the Pride parade without renting a u-Haul and dragging my bikes to the city at 6:30 in the morning.

I don't blog about my high school reunion without having been on the planning committee for months and spending time and gas to rehearse with the reunion band.

I don't blog about discovering the back roads of Hawaii on a scooter without taking the five-hour flight and bravely wandering off the beaten path alone.

And I especially don't write a novel about my tenure as a bouncer without having spent the year and a half in nightclub craziness, first.

I blog about everything, yes. But I do everything, first. I blog because I have things to blog about. And if I say something in a blog, I'll back it up. I've always welcomed my readers to call me out on anything I post.

I like who I am because I usually step up to the challenges. A few people that I've detached myself from usually hid behind something, (e.g., a drink, another plate of food, another lame excuse) and backed down from the challenges. Then they threw little verbal sticks and stones at the people taking on the challenges and blogging about them. Poor things, looking for any reason to distract themselves from the redundancy of doing nothing new and brave. Didn't Aesop write a fable about this? Sour Grapes, I think it was called.

Then again, these types are usually the ones who gossip the most and look at themselves the least. You can't really blame them, the mirror can be a scary place when you don't like yourself both inside and out. That kind of toxic negativity is very draining to be around, and it's not very conducive to creativity...like writing.

You have to be brave enough to blog in the first place; people who don't write usually can't.

My first novel is finished! I've taken my love for writing and expanded it beyond the blogs. I'm hoping someone likes it enough to represent me. Pouring yourself into a novel is exciting and exhausting. I think Walter Wellesley "Red" Smith put it best: There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein.

So now, I need a little vacation. By this time last year, I'd already done Vegas, Santa Cruz and Hawaii. I'd say we're overdue. It would be great to take a road trip with my loved ones.

Besides, I need something new to blog about...

She who laughs most...

Lately, my poor friend DJ only blogs about how the "haters" are getting him down. I told him to stop. He can't change what they think/feel/see about him; why would he want to? I asked him if their opinions really mattered that much to him. He said, "No," but I told him they must, if it's all he can post about nowadays.

I reminded him that hate is like an acid that eats through whatever vessel is carrying it around. I also told him that the energy he's wasting while worrying about how much others dislike him, is better spent living his life in a way that makes him forget about the haters altogether.

I asked him if he had someone to love (that also loves him, because that's just as important), a happy home and lots of laughter in his day. He said, "Yes." I said, "Congratulations. You will always have someone around who's hating, and it's usually someone who doesn't have what you have."

I also told him, "If you spend your day doing/laughing/loving instead of watching and making excuses for not doing/laughing/loving, you'll find that you're much too busy to worry about what the haters are currently hating about you. And at the end of the day, whose life would you rather be living?"

Today, he posted something about spending a great day with his happy family. I loved it!

And I'm sure someone hated it. :)

It just is.

What's playing on the X-box right now? Halo 3

There's neither good nor bad, it's thinking makes it so.
~William Shakespeare

My stomach always turns to chaotic mush whenever Indy gets sick. To begin with, I'm a recovering hypochondriac. I get freaked out when someone gets so much as a bug bite. Add to this the fact that Indy is a Phillips. Patrick and Zack were Biesemans. They rarely got sick and neither has ever had a feveral seizure. When Indy was much younger, he had two. I wasn't there for either, being at work for the first one, and out searching for a thermometer during the second one, but I heard they were scary as heck. What I was there for, was the following two weeks of on-again, off-again fevers and switching back and forth between Tylenol and ibuprofen, and no sleep and one ER room visit.

This morning he woke up with a fever. Not a bad one, thank God, 100, but still scary enough for his dad and I. When he has a fever, I go into combat mode. It's me vs the fever. I pull out the wet compresses, the fluids, the cotton clothing, the happy distractions and the Tylenol. I work around the clock to break the fever and keep it down.

Now, I know that fevers are natural, that they're the body's way of fighting infections, but after the previous nightmare of high fever fighting, I'd rather just stop the sucker before it gets higher than 99 degrees.

So I woke up happy that Indy was in great spirits, but a little frazzled at the fact that a fever woke him up at 6:45 am.

We got his fever down in about an hour or so and then kept him happily chilled out on the couch playing Halo. During the afternoon, he seemed so much better that we got Mike to help him ride his bike outside in the sunshine while we pulled weeds in the front yard.

It's been a few hours since then, and as fevers are wont to do, this one's trying (in vain, I'm hoping) to make a nighttime return. I'm getting suited up for the fight.

I've realized the wisdom in taking each moment, one moment at a time. Easy to say, hard to do.
But in a week like this past week, when I've gone from ecstatic (finding a donor match for Natalie!), to worried (Patrick flying out of NY in a blizzard) to celebrating (Zack's song on iTunes and Patrick's film acceptance into the Vimeo Film Festival) to crazy (dancing with all of the Chilean fans at Bang Data's video release party for the video directed by Patrick) to sad (Chile's earthquake the next morning) back to worried this morning over Indy's fever,

I've realized that every moment will be different from the next and if you're not living life in this moment, you're not really living life.

While Indy sits on the couch, playing with the X-box, I look through some music that I wrote while sitting alone, under a tree in Jackson Square in New Orleans. Karen, Mitchell and Patrick had already flown home before me and I was left with a couple of days to myself. It was the first time I'd traveled alone and I wanted to capture the moment. Here's a little of what I wrote.

"Van Ness" (June 4, 2001, 6:05 pm)

There are a few faces here that look like yours
those eyes that appear to have seen it all
how long has it been since you've seen the Ol' Miss
or heard the sweet southern drawl?

The rain's about to pour on me
and the wind's kicked up its noisy heels
but I've got no sense to head back indoors
I love the way this feels

I've got one night left in New Orleans
and what a stay it's been
but it's not the same trip it could've been
if you were here, my friend

I know you would've shown me things
and taught me things anew
I would love to see this place
the way I know you do

Here comes the rain, folks run for cover
the dixie band just doesn't care
someone's got to play for all us tourists
here in Jackson Square

Even if it never happens
somewhere in my dreams
you and I stroll slowly up and down
the streets of New Orleans.


"Jackson Square" (written in La Madeleine, June 6, 2001, 4:01 pm)

Good for him, wearing his caftan,
straw hat, beads and smiling face
I envy him, 'cause he calls this place "home"
and he's perfectly at home
here in this place.

Batten Down the Hatches

What's playing on the iPod right now-Tsugunai by Yasunori Mitsuda


We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin. ~André Berthiaume

It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are. ~e.e. cummings

Did you ever get the feeling that something or someone who was about to blow your cover was right around the corner? Thar's a storm a'brewin'!

I am a loving, caring person. I am also bitchy and moody and controlling.
But I am not one to revel in another human being's pain, and I certainly don't try to be the cause of that pain.

I'm no angel, but I'm not who you think I am, either.

It's funny, because I've been here before. Maybe that isn't so funny.

There was a time when no one knew about my polyamorous lifestyle. We came clean to our friends and lost only one who probably would've found some other reason to end the friendship. For years, people knew all about the three of us.

Now, years later, through the reforging of old friendships, we're once again wondering who needs to know what and when.

The bottom line is: I'm still who I was before.

Don't judge; that's not your job, remember?

Here and Now.

What's playing on the iPod right now:
I Wish by Stevie Wonder

My head's still spinning.
How many people can go to their 30th high-school reunion and think, Wow, that was more fun than I could have imagined it would be? How many more can say that they wouldn't change who they were or what they looked like before going to the reunion?

I can!

Three days ago, I performed and partied with my old friends and tomorrow night, I'm performing again at a benefit concert. Presently, my son is
reminding me that it's time for bed.

I'm grateful for who I am, what I look like and who I have around me for love and support. I knew that when I got home from the reunion that night, I would be coming home to unconditional love.

My reunion fell on two very important days to me: Chinese New Year and Valentine's Day. This is the year of the Tiger. How very interesting. I'm a Tiger.

I'm standing at the crossroads, and they're more clear, yet more fuzzy than they've ever been. I feel like I'm in the ninth grade again. Reforging old friendships, starting a New Year and learning new things about love. This is where the crossroads converge. Right here, right now.

Coolness In Action

What's playing on the iPod right now: Holiday in Cambodia by the Dead Kennedys

This is supposed to be on the "down low." I'm supposed to keep it all "hush-hush." No one reads this blog, so I'm good, right?

Never gave much thought to being friends with people in the government. Aside from my Dad's stint in the Navy, and my uncle Raul being a 5-star General, I only know as much about the" inside" as the movies have taught me. I never really knew anyone who was an "alphabet boy/girl." Being close to one has brought new meaning to the phrase "Membership has its privileges."

If they are reading this right now, don't fret. I'm not going into much detail at all. Not much. Certainly not anything that would incriminate either of us. Remember those meditative breaths, now ;)

Let me simply say that I'm in still awe at the limitless amounts of readily-available info that sits at their fingertips. I've learned new things about people I've known forever in a span of five whole minutes. Some things, I might add, I think I was better off not knowing. I've learned that the security I felt while being a bouncer who knew that at least six other bouncers were only as far away as a call on the headset, was only a quick, miniscule glimpse at the web of protection that's available to the company.

On the flip side (no pun intended and I'm not making Lumpia), my naive little balloon bouquet has been deflated just a bit more by the knowledge that we're all under some type of surveillance at any given time. The movies have some of it right. While I enjoy knowing that someone's constantly looking out for me and mine, I also feel more like drawing the curtains than I did when I was blissfully ignorant. Still, I'm marveling at the cool side of it all. I know enough. The rest can remain as it should, a secret.

While I feel privileged to know the little more that I know now, I understand that membership also has its price.

Too late

What's playing on the iPod right now: Coffee Spoon by the Cold War Kids

The man who thinks he can live without others is mistaken; the one who thinks others can't live without him is even more deluded. ~Hasidic Saying

Some people just never learn until it's too late. Some people think that you know what they think when they're thinking it. Some people just take too much for granted. Some people think you'll be around forever. Some people think you can't live without them.

My goal is to take a long trip once the weather gets warmer. I'm looking to meet some new people because I know some of "those" people and I don't want to become one of those people.
That's all, but that's enough.

Early Spring Cleaning.

What's playing on the iPod right now: nothing, it's 3 am.

It's 3 am and I should be sleeping, but most of my "coulda-woulda-shoulda's" turn into "I'm-so-glad-I-didn't."

One of the (millions of) reasons that I married Dan is because he always provides a fresh viewpoint. People think (and for good reason) that I'm the dominant one in the relationship. I do provide the stronger drive, the quicker response and the louder voice, and this is what people see. What they don't see is the Jiminy Cricket that motivates and influences me, aka Daniel. The Universe made a good match when it brought us together. I'm the performer, but Dan writes most of my material.

Tonight, fueled by a mild mixture of PMS-paranoid anxiety and the 3-am blues, our discussion centered on the obvious bricks that the Universe* has been lobbing at our heads to make sure that we don't miss the messages. This 2010 has thus far become the year that wants to be a very special and beautiful gift to our family, but doesn't want to be opened among any leftover, forgotten debris. Something wonderful wants to present itself to us, but it won't until we clean up the old mess. And cleaning up, we are. Everywhere.

Among my myriad of self-help books, you can find untold cures to clutter. They've helped immensely and are still helping. The general rule is: if you can find neither a home nor use for it, it has become, simply, a symbol of your indecision and inability to move forward. Wow. Powerful.

Cleaning is tiring - physically, and most definitely, emotionally. But there is nothing like taking a shower from the inside out.

During this intense cleaning, we've followed the natural path that's led us to re-evaluating our relationships. At first we were content with leaving unintentionally-neglected paths un-used. Okay, so we haven't seen this person in a while, a long while. How do we feel about that? Better or worse? How were we affecting each others' lives, if at all?

We gave up feeling guilty about not seeing some, and gave up entirely on others. One-sided friendships can't grow into healthy relationships. And relationships based on the past, without any fresh, new material become stagnant, like a joke that's retold too many times.

And then there were the relationships that demanded too much of a positive-energy sacrifice from us to offer to the gods of disappointment, emptiness and bitterness that a few of our friends were carrying on their backs. These friends were usually the ones who were rapidly approaching the "mid-life mirror" that refused to acknowledge the you-that-you-convinced-yourself-you-were and cruelly showed you the real you.
Dan pointed out that these friendships were the most damaging to maintain.

While we're not educated in finding edibles in the wilderness, nor experienced in constructing a suitable shelter from coconuts and palm fronds, Dan and I are two of the people you'd want to be stranded on a desert island with for the simple fact that we offer hope.

In the darkest of times, we find the pinpoint of light. We know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that everything will be okay. Give us time to react dramatically and get it out, and we'll do so. Then we'll pick ourselves up, take a deep breath and look for the next moment of happiness. Somewhere, anywhere.

The hardest friendships to maintain were the ones with people that could not find hope beyond the next plate of food, the next drug, the next drink, the next nap. Though the warning signs of depression were there, we were ignorant to them, and our friends, themselves, were in denial. Eventually, we could see their patterns: the cruel jokes that came too easily at the expense of others; the attainment of material possessions in an attempt to fill an un-fillable void; the constant dark viewing of others to keep the attention from themselves; the endless stream of excuses for not moving forward; and the most damaging sign-the idea that any good that we, the hopeful, celebrated in others was silly, since most good deeds were nothing more than a well-disguised attempt at manipulation.

In the company of these bitter few, our joy in the goodness of others was viewed as naive ignorance to the true ways of the world. According to these few, everyone had an ulterior motive.

I'm still not over this. What a miserable way to live your life. Dan said to me simply, "I'll be damned if I let anyone's bitterness destroy our hope in people." After constant effort to maintain, these relationships, no matter how old, whether by blood or choice, were sadly let go of.

All people pass through your life with an important lesson to teach you. Sometimes the lesson is that you need to let them continue to pass through.

It's been a painful process, but we're getting through this housecleaning, literally and figuratively. For us, there's no way around it, really. We don't want any more bricks to the back of the head.



*My idea of God and all of God's angels.

How we live right now.

What's playing on the iPod right now: That Green Gentleman by Panic At the Disco

"We are always getting ready to live, but never living."

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

It's the beginning of a brand new year and the time for dropping old bad habits and picking up new bad habits. It's time for your mouth to make bets that your body may not be able to keep. It might be silly to make these resolutions, but it's even sillier to not consider making any.

Oh, I could say that I'm going to do this or that. I could compose a plan and air my intentions publicly. I could post it as my facebook status. Haha. But that doesn't make it so. That won't make it real.

Will I follow through? Is there any legitimacy to my blabber? Or will my good intentions get trapped under the weight of all my laziness, misdirected blame and bad excuses?

At this precise moment, there's a world of opportunity before me unlike any new year I've experienced. In my home there's a subdued giddiness; an unspoken excitement everyone feels that whispers of something amazing that's coming right around the corner.

Last year we worked hard at cultivating friendships, weeding out toxic thorns and making as many connections as we could, in the hopes of having a prosperous new year. We didn't sit idly by and hope that one would come to us. We thanked the powers that be for all of the wonderful opportunities and did our best to create a better new year. We're hoping, praying and working for the best.

But until then, we're living the best way we can right now. I'm trying very hard not to regret or be sorrowful over the things that I've left behind, and I'm reminding myself to keep from daydreaming about what I'd like the future to be. I only have this moment. This moment. I can't change the past or predict the future, but what can I do about this moment?

I can present my best self, look at what the moment holds and who I'm with. I can make better decisions and say yes to more of what I'd love to do and no to more of what I'd rather not.

This formula seems to be working. Our moments are filled with friends, laughter and oh, my goodness, love, love, love. Happily ever after, after all, can only be lived on a daily basis.

We're not waiting for someone or something to give us permission to live right now. And thank the heavens above, for we are most definitely living - right now!