Low Energy Safety Crisis

This title is 100% drama queen. Who the hell am I kidding...this BLOG is 100% drama queen. harumph. I often wonder if it would be a better use of my time to read "real" blogs by "real" writers instead of just blabbing out my own crud.

Naw. At least equally as useful as someone else's crud blabbing.

So, why am I so low energy, upset, downtrodden, depressed, sad, angry and scared wobbly? Packages (as far as I can tell, 3 to date) are dissappearing from my house. Amazon seems to confirm that the UPS guy is leaving them, but they are NOT getting to me.

Now, I should not be surprised, and I should be able to think about this clearly - after all 2 out of 3 of my neighbors have had their homes broken into and robbed. Why shouldn't the thieves casing my neighborhood notice that the UPS guy drops off around 1PM, and no one comes home until after 5PM?

The eerie part is that the stuff is SO LAME. Not worth stealing. Funny pictures of my husband and I dressed as clowns from a Halloween Sears photo shoot. A book about trivia intended as a gift for a friend, for Christmas. Lame. Not even sellable for drug money. But someone else has them. That creeps me out. Maybe they are putting them into my photo album (which they also stole).

I'm angry, and upset...not because I don't have "my stuff" (someday when I'm good and belligerant I'll find receipts, call up vendors and complain bitterly, and probably get my stuff replaced -though not in time for Christmas, I'm sure) but because I feel like a VICTIM.

Now I've BEEN a victim. I was molested as a child by a sometime caregiver-adult, and it is NOT GOOD to be at the mercy of someone else and feel like you have no control.

My denial coping mechanisms are pretty awesome...I even manage to forget for weeks at a time that I live in an evidenced, unsafe neighborhood. But each time something criminal happens, my brand new car being robbed in my driveway, the neighbor's kids having their toys stolen, etc., I get this horrible freak-out emotional saddness and overload and I feel sick.

My husband says I'm "panicky," but you know, I think it is perfectly NORMAL.

Booking Inside and Out

Does anyone still use the verb "to book" anymore?

"Gotta Book, Man."

In the 80s (probably earlier) that phrase meant going someplace fast. Well this weekend, and today by extention, I went a lot of places, really fast. Here are just a few examples:

~~~~~~~~~~

A Book to Inner-Book about for a BookWorm:
I have been asked to come up with "personal development goals" for 2007. What, like besides being a professional student? I mean, I LOVE LEARNING....so much that I tend to get obsessive and addictive about immersing myself...just as I do about just about everything, eh?

So over the course of the day, in between other work I came up with no fewer than 8 or 10 directions I could go in for developing. ZOOM! And agonizing choices await me: Which one, which one!?! (Or ones, if I have the stamina) Conferences, Skills, Ideas, Knowledge...or maybe just reading a book, like Influencing With Integrity (IWI). Weird Title. Slightly Offputting for an unidentifiable reason. Perhaps "Influencing" is a turnoff (though that shouldn't be an issue for a student of The Social Animal by Elliot Aronson). Perhaps "Integrity" (Do I want to know what that means? What if I don't have it?).

Resisting usually indicates to me something that I "should" do...something I will enjoy if only I can start! So, as a part of my goal to do some research on "personal development goals" I cracked open IWI and started reading. Three forewards. Interesting. Chapter 1 made me cry. WOW. So I'm at page 17 and I'm a convert. The author herself told me not to read it cover to cover, so I'm honoring that as simply recognizing the distance between a FREE book on my shelf for months with a stigma of "Don't touch it - it's EeeeVil!" attached and a book I intend to bookmark as I get to each stopping point, take home, and (if necessary, but it won't be) FORCE my husband to read in tandem with me, for ongoing disussion.

Booking, indeed.

~~~~~~~~~~

I Booked through a painful weekend with this Book:
I HIGHLY recommend The Grand Ellipse by Paula Volsky to readers who need a book for vacation. Be ready to handle a gripping story about wonderful characters competing to travel a fictional world that looks like the Industrial Revolution with Magic.

It took me a weekend, on and off. It has chapters which are just the right length for stopping, going on a hike, and picking up where you left off. Caution: to really appreciate the horror and happiness of the sappy ending, read in private, not on the airplane on the way home, with a 10 year old next to you.

Beautiful descriptions, harrowing adventures, underhanded misdeeds by complete Black Hats and a highly probable love-triangle. When you really need your Good Guys to be GOOD, your Bad Guys to be BAD, the hero to win the heroine in the end, and a happy ending unmarred by unbelievable perfection...Read this book!

TechoSavvyaged

Woo-Hoo! I made a link from my post to another one of my posts! Uh-Huh! I rock...

They just shouldn't let people as technologically impaired as I am have a blog..TOO LATE!

If you're reading this, go back and read

This

and then

This

to see what it looks like when I write about Sex!

Mother of a Rant

The Mother Wrote (TMW):
Daughter, Never mind, I'll catch a shuttle. Definitely sounds like your friend's work is crazed and I don't want to impose or add any more to that. I didn't realize that where you and I are going are in opposite directions.

The Adult Daughter Replied (TADR):
Yes. Ex-Husband's warehouse location is West, very close to the airport, and where I am going is South East.

TMW:
Sorry you felt you were having to "take care of me." I wasn't looking to be taken care of.

TADR:
Good to know. Carpooling is always desireable when it makes sense, but since we were not going to the same places, I didn't really "get it" when you proposed it. I think I said that it didn't make sense to me pretty clearly.

After I wrote to you that we were not going in the same direction - literally - you then asked Ex-Husband if you could get a ride from him, or would he please send shuttle info. Mother, that seemed like a pretty desperate act to me. Why would you ask Ex-Husband, or expect that he would be willing to help you in any way? Ex-Husband is angry with you and does not want to help you. Why would you ask him?

I can think of only one reason: You feel he "owes" it to you. People don't like to do nice things for each other out of a sense of obligation, Mother.

No matter why you did it, it made me sad for you and for him that you had asked for help. I felt bad that I was not able to "take care of you," meaning, have you get the help you wanted from someone you wanted it from. You really seemed to want help - even if you had to get it from Ex-Husband.

Because I am Adult Daughter, I felt like I needed to say, "Sure, if you can't find another ride, I can help." Which is still true, but you have to take the help how / when it is offered. I can help you, but you have to do it my way. It is my help to give. You need to respect my friend's time and not take advantage of a friend's generosity and love for me to make your life a little easier.

TMW:
I was just coming from the place where it made sense to see if we could coordinate transportation since we are arriving at almost exactly the same time (you know, like carpooling). Would not have even suggested it if arrival times were different.

Glad to hear you're feeling better. Hope you're over your hurt feelings by the time I see you on Sunday.

TADR:
I think part of the problem is the "hurt" doesn't go away. Especially without any acknowledgement / apologies or attempt to make it different the next time. It just gets worse and worse each time, and, Mother, we seem to be able to spend less and less time together without hurting each other again. Pretty nasty.

My theory is that you're prickly because of Some Thing, and I'm prickly because of Some Thing Else. Doesn't make for a good combination.

TMW:
I was over my hurt feelings from you being mean to me until your recent emails. (I decided I should have been more patient and understanding since you were sick.)

TADR:
That is interesting. Sick shouldn't have much to do with it. My reaction right now is that I have no idea why your feelings were hurt.

As far as I can tell, you're feelings got hurt because I tried to convince you to stay until Monday, like you'd previously planned, in case I needed help with Jeremy The Cockatoo. Either with boarding him at your place or taking him to Birdie Hotel.

Why did that hurt or upset you? I would not have asked if I hadn't REALLY needed the help. If you hadn't already been here, and going back to Santa Barbara. With Jeremy there are so few options. I cannot put him in a shuttle or a taxi.

I was really scared and upset about termites in my house. You said you were staying until Monday, so I called all over to try to find someone who could look at the termites as early as possible on Monday (since no one was available the holiday weekend). We talked about this when you arrived Wednesday, while we made banana pumpkin bread.

TMW:
Seems like it's OK for you to have me go out of my way to help out and/or take care of your needs (like waiting around for the termite guy, driving in the rain, and not getting back into SB in time to get bird vegies and/or keeping Jeremy if your house needed tenting) but not the other way around.

TADR:
Ah, and here I feel like you are very inaccurate. The idea that you think this makes me really angry. This is what you think of Your Sister too. And what you think of Ex-Husband. You appear to think everyone around you expects an unequal relationship.

The Adult Son and I have had that expectation, since we're your kids, HOWEVER, for a long time now, I DO NOT BEHAVE THAT WAY.

I have been trying to treat you just the same as everyone else. When you have needs, and you ask me to help, like with taxes, I say yes or no. Like with your house, yes or no. Like with crazy schemes for WorldCon. Yes, or No. Like with "I want to go to Hawaii for my birthday." Yes or No.

We each get into trouble when it is not that cut and dry, Mother. You did NOT say, "I need to leave, can you help me pack up?" If you had, I would have said, "No. I just puked for eight hours, that isn't going to happen." Instead you said something like, "Its going to rain, I'm thinking of leaving." To which I replied by trying to convince you not to go because I needed your help.

Perhaps it was unfair of me to make my case for why I needed the help so badly. Perhaps you felt guilty to say no. In any case, Mother, these are not excuses for being hurtful.

Mother, it is a situation of expectations. I specifically asked you when you were coming to visit and staying, and you said until Monday.

I asked again because I was *desperately* trying to find a termite guy that could come out before you left, just in case we had to tent and I had to send Jeremy away. When you arrived Wednesday, I went over the whole termite thing with you, and you did not seem put-out.

If I had asked you more clearly Wed night "I need you to stay until Monday, and if the house needs to be tented, take Jeremy either to your place, or to Jaime's" I believe you probably would have said YES. You certainly implied yes, while we were talking that night.

All that changed from then until you left was YOU. You wanted to do something else because of the rain, your needs changed, and so you bailed on me. That is part one of why I was hurt and angry.

Part two of hurt and angry layers on because none of the above that you list as your "needs" (rain, bird veggies) is anything I had any control over or previous knowledge of. I can't have "done it" to you, but you certainly took out your frustration on me.

To be clear, I didn't spend 8 hours puking to ruin your Sunday morning. I didn't do a rain-dance, or forget to close up your house before you left so that you would be stressed out. I didn't rent movies that I thought would specifically be fun to watch with YOU so that I could taunt you with "ha, ha, you have to leave, so I'm going to watch movies you wish you could see..."

The ONLY reason I left my bed Sunday, given how completely AWFUL I felt, was because I knew you were there, and I had specifically rented movies for us to watch TOGETHER. I was damned if I was going to stay in bed, no matter what.

Instead of a nice, restful day of fun movies, I was told you were leaving. I said I needed your help, and you didn't even say "No, that doesn't work for me, I need to leave." You were snide and instead said something like "Well, I'm *so* *sorry* that I can't stay and help you, and take care of your bird and I'll just be out of your way if you'll show me my turkey..."

What you are hurt by, as far as I can tell, is your imagination. It FREAKS ME OUT because it is very Your Sister-Like. I'm having conversations with you that just dissappear into the ether.

It was completely sickening. Not as sickening as you trying to HUG me after you had just been _off_the_chart_ nasty.

I get that you feel bad. I feel bad about the whole thing too, even if I can't figure out what set you off. But don't expect me to be all smiles and stick my damn neck out again by being nice to you. And don't expect me to WANT to help you when you were rotten.

It occurs to me at the last to ask whether you are actually okay with finding your own transportation tomorrow, or whether you are actually really upset and dissapointed?

I care, so I'd like to know the answer...and at the same time, I couldn't care less.

Sick of Family

I've seen every maternal blood relative I have on this earth over the past week and I AM DONE.

I just can't take anymore for awhile.

The gushing flow of stories are just too cold prickly and full of sadness to keep on wading through them. I'm going to stop.

..........

Of course, I'm returning to this post over a week later and I can't even recall what was so particularly awful.

And since turning a very potent experience into a story where *I* wasn't involved worked well before, I think I'll try that hand again.

First Time - Draft 2

I left the post-it on his desk because I couldn't end the day without making sure Jack knew he was wrong: JP call EB.

This morning, Jack sat across the table in the small conference room and said, "I will not, Evan. They refuse to participate."
"What...?"
"They refuse to participate. So. I have respect for the hierarchical structure of this organization. I have informed my manager and it is his problem now. The organization's problem - Not Mine."
"Did they give a reason why?"
"I don't care why."

I couldn't look him in the eye. The issue I had stumbled across was a hot one. I tried again and again to elicit a clear picture of the conflict from his information. Even after an hour all I could see was a gaping hole where the "big picture" of the situation should be.

Like a black cloud, it hovered above and to the right of his close-cropped hairline. Beyond a shoulder that leaned hard, aggressively nonchalant on the arm of a blue chair.

"I'm not upset!" he said again, raising his voice. "I also don't care why and I won't do anything about it until I'm asked. Until then, I don't know there is a problem." One of many conflicts in our organization; Dogging him, and like a stray mutt, just as pointedly ignored.

I hate recognizing it when he acts like a five year old. I feel compelled to cover his ass.

So I spent my workday in someone else's problem. Not Jack's problem, not mine: a problem that should have been confronted by the whole organization...but was instead being tossed over cubicle half-walls like a hot potato.

A conflict averse work environment with no management leadership. A fun place to work. Places like this one need lubricant in the form of neutral third parties, troublemakers...HR managers. The organizational caretakers and problem solvers of the world who are powerfully motivated to solve heated and divisive problems. Not necessarily urgent ones: the ones all about communication and personalities and styles of interaction.

As HR Managers go, I am good at my job. I challenged, asked questions, developed a plan of action. I used individual discussions with each personality to understand the whole picture. I spoke with everyone struggling busily to avoid solving the problem.

Suddenly, after 6PM, my own yellow sticky note was in front of my face. Between me and my monitor, I saw my own scrawl stuck to Jack's clean hand. Polished, even nails confronted me at the end of an arm, covered by the softest brushed cotton twill.

He walks up silently, but I never jump anymore. Every part of his body invades the typical, American "personal space." Jack knows he is mandated to keep the distance clear, and he is reminded in a painful waste of two productive hours, every two years, at the Sexual Harassment Prevention course. Maybe I should make him go annually.

"Is it brief? I want to go home," he said while draping himself, quite at ease, in my guest chair. I turned a few pages in a nearby notebook, then swiveled to face him.

"You're wrong," I said, knowing I was safe. "I want you to be successful, and I can't take it when you are, instead, being a complete ass. Change your attitude. I spoke with everyone individually today and the only person with a problem is you. Come back Monday with that problem fixed. Because you're my hero, and I can't stand it when you're wrong."

"Allright. That's fine," came from a tired Jack. He stood up to go, but only moved a foot away. He picked up a magazine from the cubicle next to mine, and stood, looking down at a picture of a famous actress. Well, once famous, then an obesity poster child, now a slim sexpot of a woman again.

"Amazing," he said. And then stood there. With that invitation, I got up to stand next to him. He wanted me to look at the picture I had already noticed returning to my desk a half hour before. I couldn't see the picture this time.

-Comment-
All I could see was the rough stubble across his face at the end of such a long day. Striking on someone meticulously clean shaven each morning.

-Response-
I realized that he smelled fantastic, and I took a deep breath, staring down at a Cover Girl but seeing Jack's chin, neck...an open collar.

-See you Monday-
My strong urge to rub a hand, a cheek, a chest, a groin...across that abrasive surface was overwhelming...and stifled immediately.

I returned to my chair, feeling pumped with the ache of arousal and weak with the cold of imagined betrayal. Emotionally unfaithful for the first time.

The First Time

I wrote a post quite some time ago about a loosely 'sexual' experience with flirting I had...at age 33.

This story is about a similar experience. I was not going to blog it here, because I know my husband reads my blog...and the idea of him reading it made me feel guilty. I believe the content may "hurt" a little bit in some way, and I deperately want to avoid hurting him - I love him so much.

But there is this need to expose the experience to the light of day and examine it before it becomes a secret: I hate secrets. Hate secrets in a way that only an adult who has a vestigial molested child lurking inside can.

In my further defense (though I don't need one, Dammit!) my "Blog Hero" thinks nothing of descriptions of cute chicks at Hooters, and hot Booth Babes, and being struck senseless by beautiful women. He has eyes, he has a dick, he has a libido. He expresses the thoughts that are wound up with those things. Yet I shrink from doing that.

I read a short story called "Tastings" by Neil Gaiman last week, in a short story collection which had lots of not-fun sexually explicit stories. In his preface to "Tastings" he talked about how writing the story took him a long time (paraphrasing from memory here) because the content was embarassing to him...made him blush, and made him have to stop, then come back to the story. The content was extremely sexually explicit, which might have had something to do with the embarassment.

From that preface, I am choosing to take away the idea that there is some value in getting out the ideas...even when as writers we have huge emotional reactions to the content. And in this case, it is probably best to get it outside of me, into my "clear" space.

So, from the assumptions that:
1) Finding someone other than your partner attractive is not something to feel guilt over (as long as you don't act on it), and
2) Sharing the fact that attraction is evidenced, may hurt your partner, and fundamentally if they choose to read your blog after you've warned them, it is their own fault, and
3) Telling a story and letting an idea play out can only strengthen storytelling and writing abilities, even if it doesn't feel good to do so....here's the story.

Password, Please.

I have been off blog for 30 days. No withdrawal pains...just off. Today I need to rant though because again, the place I work makes me CRAZY and I have thought about 564 times in the past hour, "Why do I work here...?"

There a quite a few answers, and they are acceptable for now: I like Security. I like Feeling Needed. I like Being The Underdog. I like The Idea That I "See Things" Others Do Not. I like The Idea That Communication Problems Can be Fixed. I like The Idea That Working Relationships Are Possible. I like the Moral High Ground of Being Seen As The Good Guy.

I have to go back to work now...I need to think later what this all means...what is it all about...? How does it fit into my vision of myself and my goals for the future.

You know, nothing BIG....And I'll be back soon to talk about the "Nothing Big." And this time, if I do it soon enough, it won't take me eternal seconds of brain processor power to remember the password.

T3 & Credit Union Juxtaposition

Uhm, how nervous should I be about the following:

My Credit Union posts on their website that they have a planned systems upgrade starting on a Friday night at 10pm, lasting...mostly through the weekend. No problem. It is Friday at 3pm, I'll check my accounts, make sure there's no problems, bills are getting paid, etc., and then be out of town all weekend anyway.

Except the logon won't accept my name & password (ARGH). Now I'm calling.

"I'm sorry, our systems are down, and IT estimates 3-4 hours until they are back up."

I'm thinking, "Huh? You're a BANK. You have my money. You can't 'go down.'"

This seemed eerily connected to a comment I made this morning while commuting with my husband. We had finally Netflixed Terminator 3 this past week, and this morning I joked that he could get one of those nifty, non-expiring governmental license plates by doing QA for Homeland Security.

"You can be the guy who makes SURE SpyNet works right when it gets ready to destroy the human race."

Ugh. Looks like they don't need him.

Who is Jean Arthur?

After visiting a new friend's blog I gave into temptation and took the "Classic Dames" test. Do you think it is a sign that I:

a) Was a Blonde
b) Have never heard of this person?

Guess I have some Netflixing to do...

Jean Arthur You scored 19% grit, 33% wit, 33% flair, and 28% class!

You are a little bit of everything: smart, nutty, classy, and even a little scheming when you need to be. However, you aren't exactly the most effective dame around, as you're sometimes given to fainting and mumbling incoherently. But you're pretty steadfast and true, and might I add, cute as a button, even if you're not sure exactly what you want. Still, you end up with the likes of Jimmy Stewart and Cary Grant...not too shabby!

Queen of Swords and Seven and Strength

I've been having strange, film-like dreams over the past few days. Dreams where the role I play is pretty spectacular: Today I was a Buffy-like, supernatural evil fighting super-hero. Yesterday I was an acclaimed comedian reviewing my "career" development and funniest moments.

So, this morning, after the rollercoaster dream, I decided to pull a tarot card...see what on earth was happening with my dream-life.

..........

Since I never came back to this post...and didn't even leave myself enough notes to tell the story, I guess I'll never know anything other than what the cards were.

Quickie

I'm working on a Disneyland braindump, and more WorldCon reflections...but while I make those posts work for me, here is a thought on why Disneyland ROCKS!

We were at Disneyland last weekend, and MUCH fun was had. We stayed out late and closed-the-place-down! Turns out Disneyland is VERY fun late at night: Quiet, beautifully lit-up with lights and jack-o-lanterns for Halloween. One of the MOST fun things was having the "run" of Toon Town, with its bouncy-streets, buttons to push, and photo Ops like pictures with a Mickey Mouse that laughed and laughed at the late night silliness. I got an Eeyore watch, and we finally went to California Adventure and "survived" the Tower of Terror.

But really:

It is an amazing & magical place. What we learned THIS trip is that it is especially fantastic late at night after the kiddies have gone to bed. And I like the decor-intensive, detail-oriented....illusions and facades. We know that's what they are, and "Disney" knows that is what they are, but there's something spectacular about such a translucent and guilt free consensual reality....

I'm Late, I'm Late....

For a very Important Date...with my Blog! Hello, Dear Blog! I've neglected you again for several weeks...but I was having FUN this time: Disneyland!

My trip this weekend showed me that Disneyland is definitely what you make of it. The Happiest Place on Earth is steeped in good intentions (and commercial ones), but which of the many flavors you choose to drink in while you are there, can be effectively filtered.

My husband and I have been to Disneyland twice before: 2001 with S&S & my mom, P.; Then again this past February for my 33rd Birthday at Club 33.

For this trip, we were FINALLY going to make it into the second amusement park - Disney's California Adventure, so I bought 3 day parkhopper tickets.

And THEN, Creative Memories scheduled their consultant conference for the same weekend . Well, if I go to the conference I get to WRITE OFF A TRIP TO DISNEYLAND ON MY TAXES - Woo-Hoo!

So M. and I arrived late Friday night, were picked up by my old pal E., and whisked away to our hotel and a late dinner.

M. was VERY tired Saturday morning, so I let him doze while I made my protein shakes, looked at the map, and formulated a weekend game plan. He roused in time to go get some hotel breakfast, then he washed up and we set out for the Magic Kingdom.

Our hotel was a little over a mile away, so we walked to the park, stood in line at Will Call, and then, since we had to be at the CM conference at noon or so, we did some pre-shopping. I bought gifts for my niece, and we surveyed the enormity of "the machine" that is Disney's merchandising conglomerate.

Found!

Yay! Someone found my missing earring!

I have a little routine...and don't our little routines keep us sane? Each day, as I change into my workout clothes, I take off my jewelry and put it a pocket. Then I roll or fold up the clothing so that there's no way for the jewelry to fall out.

As I did this on Tuesday, the necklace and earrings fell out onto the floor of the ladies room. So much for the plan. I picked them back up (or so I thought) and put them in the pocket, and rolled my pants up with the pockets facing inside (so nothing could fall out).

When I got home that night, and went to throw clothes in the laundry, one earring was gone. SOB! It is a really cool necklace I designed for myself in greens, yellows,oranges and tomato reds. I always get compliments, because the color combinations are unusual, and the necklace itself looks a bit like a dangling bunch of little fruits and vegetables. It was built for me by Beadzilla, and for the earrings we used matching findings.

Ack! What can you do with just one earring!

I came to work Wed and was busy all day...it wasn't until LATE in the afternoon that I realized "Damn! I forgot to check for my earring on the floor of the bathroom this morning!"

I ran right in and checked...nothing. SOB! AGAIN! I prepared to be adult about it and just throw away the remaining earring, or design it into something else...or whatever. Let it go.

BEHOLD! At the receptionist's desk this morning...MY EARRING! Unharmed! YAY!

It was SUCH a nice surprise that I had extra energy to overcome my slothfullness and go running on my lunch. I even did a few sprint intervals (though my heart rate monitor does NOT like those), ab exercises and 10, standing push ups!

Yay Me! And now, I reward myself with a manicure and waxing appointment...Joy!

Two Weeks Breaks

Yes, two weeks with no posting breaks the [irregular] cycle of regular writing. Why is it so hard to do the things we love?

Thoughts for today:
I *REALLY* liked my horoscope two days ago, and I WISH I had made time to write and think and post about it...but I didn't, and that is a sadness. Do other writers feel that sadness, as good ideas and things that inspire them slip away....? Part of the habit it taking better notes...and I do that...and then the posts sit unwritten, here as drafts on my blog.

Today's (yesterday's really) Horoscope offers another chance:

You may feel a bit unstable today as you remember something from your past. Perhaps an event at home or an interaction with a family member serves as a trigger, bringing up unresolved issues. Don't confuse a memory from long ago with what is happening now. Get your facts straight and act on them accordingly. Thursday, September 14, 2006

This one was like a balm for my soul. I spoke with my brother on Wed night about his 12 step program and the lying behavior it turns out we both share. I found out that he may have been abused by the same caretaker I was molested by when I was a child. He shared a memory with me, and between that, three deaths in my once-removed circle this week and just lots going on...boy has my unconscious life been an utter mess.

I hope to write about it more...AND spend some time this weekend trying to "fix" the yucktastic formatting problem this stupid blog has that takes away ALL MY PARAGRAPHS! Ack! Makes me completely crazy to see the mess that gets published.

Neck Breaker

From my Living with a Commedian Series

Sunday night, we collapsed in bed upon arrival. After being pampered in Marriott's super-comfy bedding all weekend, Monday night I decided I wanted clean sheets. I asked M. if he would help me…I'm not lazy or anything, but making big beds in small rooms is much easier for two people.

I started stripping the old linens off first: sheets and pillow cases. M. was way behind, pulling off the old sheets and reaching for a fresh bottom sheet. I was stripping cases off my pillows, as M. futzed with the clean sheet, so I asked "Are you going to strip the old pillowcases off, or are they just now getting the right SMELL level to them...?"

"Not only will I NOT remove the pillow cases on currently," he replied, "but I am also going to keep adding pillow case after colorful pillow case...one layer after the other...until, at last, I have the ultimate...Neck Breaker!!!

Virgo is opposite Pisces

My Horoscope today says:

Virgo is opposite Pisces and this Virgo New Moon reflects light on the closest relationships in your life. It is more difficult at this time to accept those you love, for you really want them to be their very best. In a way, you might be expecting them to compensate for your own shortcomings. Forgiveness is typically one of your strengths. You may now have to forgive yourself for being human so that others can live up to your expectations. Wednesday, August 23, 2006

I do LOVE this stuff. It makes me think about things, and brings the small thrill of synchronicity to the everyday. Like this:

Virgo is opposite Pisces and this Virgo New Moon reflects light on the closest relationships in your life.

Oh, you mean people closest to me, and Virgos to boot...like MY HUSBAND? I don't "expect" him to compensate for my shortcomings...I depend on him for that!

I like the idea of forgiving myself in order to offer that to other people. I do have trouble here...and especially with forgiving the opposite problem: Being such an ego-maniac that my attitude becomes: "If I can do it, why can't everyone else?!"

Except when he isn't...

My blog hero is great...except when he isn't. Another thing I love about him also just became a thing I hate: his "normalcy." He just left this post about how he wouldn't be posting for awhile due to his son's birthday, and the first of many parties for his newly engaged sister, yadda-ya.

I feel like cussing him out and saying, "You [insert bad word here]! What makes you so damn lucky?" Even while I realize I like to read his stories about the closest thing to a "nuclear family" in the new millenium, I am simultaneously irked by the selfish, "Why can't *I* have THAT?!"

A sister. A sibling to get along with (or multiple siblings, the jerk!). Reasonable family relationships and conversations. Engagement parties instead of surprising notes with a date and time scribbled on the back because a girlfriend got pregnant and there had better be a wedding...

Hey, Hero! It isn't that what you're writing is BORING (though without any content or tension, yeah, its that too), but I slam the webpage closed when I feel taunted by refrains of "Look what Aaaaaahhhhhh've got, and you can't haaaaaaaaave it...."

As my dear friend K. would say, although I know he stole it from somewhere else: "Bitter, Party of One."

Not Arachnaphobic

My husband posted this to his blog on the 31st:

Not a story about Black Widow Spiders

On Sunday, Yvette and I were rearranging stuff in the garage in preparation for the roofing guys to come in and tear the roof off way too early in the morning on Monday. During the course of moving all the boxes around and covering stuff up, we managed to disturb a spider. I looked over at Yvette, and I saw a large, globular black spider crawling up her neck.

Now, it so happens that Black Widow spiders aren't all that uncommon around here, and from a few feet away, this thing really, really looked like a Black Widow. I attempted to calmly say "Hold still" so I could brush it off her without her getting bitten, but apparently my eyes gave me away, and Yvette totally freaked out. So she's shaking all of her clothing out and moving around, while I'm trying to get her to stand still so I can find the stupid spider and get it off her before she gets bitten.

Mentioning that I thought the spider was a Black Widow was decidedly not helpful. It probably would have been comical if we weren't doing such a good job of completely panicking each other. Yvette managed to get the spider off of herself, and I eventually recovered it. It turned out to most likely be Steatoda grossa, a much
less dangerous relative of the Black Widow.

After the incident, Yvette and I talked about what we might have done differently. We didn't really come up with anything, other than possibly running "Spider Drills". I'd just walk up to her and calmly say "Don't move" or something similar, and we'd practice not freaking each other out. I really hated the feeling of the whole thing spiraling out of control like that, with everything I said and did just making the situation worse.

I wanted to tell my own version of the story as I remember, or don't remember, it because there are two funny things and one "interesting" one.

First, you have to know what I'm wearing during this panic: Comfy cotton Eddie Bauer Crossover Tank and sweatpants. That becomes important, because my arms, shoulders and neck were all exposed.

There are two reasons I panicked. The first one is that I believe I "sensed" the spider. When Mark first gave me THAT LOOK, instead of freezing in place and taking a deep breath (something I'd like to learn to do for the future), I took a swipe at my own right neck/shoulder area and jumped a foot to the left (Screaming like a banshee). Once the flight response kicked in, I COULD NOT STOP doing this shivery mini-bolt from place to place.

What happened next is that I had somehow obscured the spider (or perhaps had gotten him off me). Mark couldn't get close to me to see it, and when he did, he started gently trying to figure out if the spider had escaped into my hair. MY HAIR?!?!?!?

A few light, tickling searches through the curls, and there was MUCH more screaming and bending over and shaking and clawing and panic. Finally, even though only moments have passed, I'm trying to get calm, saying "What do I do?! What do I do?!" and Mark replies, "You need to get all your clothes off NOW and go take a shower."

Here's the funny bit: I tear off my top and drop my pants, screaming and wobbling with adrenaline...only to suddenly realize the garage door is up, and I am naked to the whole neighborhood. Always a winner for spreading CALM.

I ran to the shower, washing my hair bent over forward, hoping that it would prevent the spider in my hair from crawling down my naked back. I was in there a LONG time, feeling desperately like I couldn't get clean, shaking from the epinephrine aftershocks.

What is interesting is that normally, Mark can keep me pretty calm - I trust him completely. I blame my spider-sense for the initial panic, and hope that over the next 50 years of our marriage we do figure out how to better care for each other in crisis. I *do* think Spider Drills are a good idea.

Living with a Comedian - Foreign Currency

Foreign Currency came up while MJB and I were carpooling this morning. Here is the story he relayed on our commute together:

I told you about that right? I was in line at the grocery store. You know how there are a lot of African immigrants in our area? Well the guy in front of me was trying to buy food with a third party, goverment issued check...Drawn on a bank in Burundi, Eastern Africa...And he had no ID.

The Checker was like "Uhhhh...I have no idea how to deal with this, there's no 'button' for Burundi."

"Oh, just give him the groceries," I thought. "You can't figure this out before the food rots anyway..."

Deep Thoughts on Old Friends

My friend G. has been living in Austria as a U.S. Expatriot for several years. Recently I asked him if I could come and visit early next year. He replied, "Of course you can. Duh!"

I wanted to share this profound statement because it made me realize that the BEST thing for me about old friends is how precisely I can hear that "Duh!" in the last e-mail. Every quality of his voice, his tone, his inflection sounds off in my head. It is really only with the people you've known a loooooong time that the internal voice-overs turn on automatically.

Start from the Horoscope and go....

Sometimes you are more comfortable in your own dreams when they don't have words attached to them. Now, however, you are more likely to have detailed explanations that come from too many words. Your environment is intellectually noisier than you prefer. It will be easier if you remember that the noise arises from within you and not from out there, regardless of appearances.

Hmmm. I was trying to figure out how this related to "dreams" - sleeping dreams, which are rarely of me seeing words, as if written in a book...then I realized the universe meant "Dreams" as in, aspirations! How funny, fun and interesting....More later.

[Later]
The noise arises from within me...my big barries to "success" as I see it is in the sheer number of interim tasks which have to be completed to be "successful." I wonder if those are the words...the descriptors...the "noise" from inside of me.

But I LOVE WORDS! The question is do I love them as much as I love the kinesthetic doing / making / creating of visual elements...fabric, papers...and do my words block me from just being with and pursuing those creative outlets.

Hmmmm. Time for a trip to Michaels before the Music Festival this evening! I need to get started on my CorocoDolly Costume...and the place to start is with floral foam....

YK

One week later...

I don't feel much better. I'm definitely depressed. I don't usually stay depressed for very long, and this feels so very weird that it is bordering on despair. I'm ready to be finsihed now. Hello???

I stayed in bed most of the day yesterday. I skipped my health class and my bellydance class. I was warm and comfy and finished a fun book...but I was actually wrapped within a sodden emotional heap of invisible blankets.

Once my husband got home for the second time (he showed up to pay the roofer around 6:30, but then had to go back to work again), I was actually able to sit up and try to interract with another human. It was hard, because sometimes it is SO much easier to just read a book and ignore the world, but I love my husband and I definitely see him as one of the few people who can "fix" me - help me flip the energy / happiness switch in the access panel under my left shoulder blade. Unfortunately I didn't really have it in me. I tried...but then got sucked back down into finishing the book.

After a bit of him geeking and me reading in bed, I started to feel hungry. I headed to the kitchen for my favorite late-night snack: cereal. It always helps me sleep. I realized I was actually more hungry than I thought, so I decided to add chunks of white peach to "the usual."

The problem with that plan is our cereal bowls are not quite big enough to hold an entire piece of fruit + cereal + milk. In the weight management world, that is a good thing: If I put the peach in the bottom, then there is less space for cereal and milk, which are both higher calorie. Screw weight management. I pulled out a deeper, purple bowl from my pottery barn set.

M. followed me to the kitchen for his own snack. He took one look at my "snack" and said "Eating from a mixing bowl tonight, huh?"

"This is not a mixing bowl...its a serving bowl."

He mentioned something about semantics, and I returned to the bedroom.

Soon he was next to me in bed again, looking over at my snack. "Mmmm. Smells like cereal," he said. "There's more in the kitchen," I said, once again engrossed in what was happening with the witch heroine in a Kelly Armstrong novel. I was sitting in bed in my perfected reading / eating position: paperback open in the fingers of my left hand, one edge of the bowl in the palm of the open left hand, and the bottom resting near my collarbone. M. is fascinated by how I can do this and very effectively eat and read. But I can, and I'm a pro, so I was reading and crunching down Kashi, when M. walked back into the bedroom...holding a large black plastic serving spoon and the BIGGEST serving bowl we own.

"Mmmmm, Cereal," he said.

I started laughing so hard that I was lucky to get my cereal bowl to the bedside table. I forced myself to breathe through my nose long enough to swallow, preventing a gruesome death by Kashi. He pulled his regular bowl and a normal spoon out of the bottom of the huge bowl where it had been hidden, and proceeded to eat his cereal, sitting down next to me on the bed.

I didn't actually inhale much for the next 10 minutes. As hokey as it sounds, it is possible to laugh until your eyes water in a steady stream down the cheeks. Until abdominal walls are weak and sore from the muscle spasms. Thankfully, I was already on a bed, so when I couldn't stay propped up anymore, I just collapsed to the side. Gasping for air and kleenex to wipe my running nose I told him "That was the craziest, clownish thing you've ever done."

"Mmmmmm...cereal," he smiled.

Augustory

Happy first day of August! Here is a short entry to process a few things going down RIGHT NOW:

First, I have been sitting down and with my 15 minutes a couple of times a week, instead of actually writing, I take some time to read my bloghero's work first. NO MORE! I've decided that although it is inspiring, WWDNs ongoing meta-topic of "get the story" is simply reminding me that I have four-or-five AWESOME stories sitting in draft form in this blog waiting to be finished. all because I'm "wasting" my time reading first, writing second. From now on - that changes. Write first, Read second.

Next off the chest, I have to say I am having a BEEP, BEEP, BEEP couple of days. Massive mood swings after the marathon, due primarily to how GREAT I feel having completed it and getting to show off, and how SEEING-RED-ANGRY I feel about:

1) Having to travel / vacation alone (My husband's line of work SUCKS!)
2) Having work done on my house (and some "little" annoyances associated with that)
3) Getting nowhere with anyone on my "business" and my "costume"
4) Feeling fat (up 20+ lbs) and ugly (tight pants) and unloved (where the hell are all the damn "friends" when I want to visit my hometown?)

That is all the time I have for today...hopefully next week will be better.

SF 1st Half Marathon Highlights Part 1: Homeless Commentary

Apparently Marathon Running not only gives me a high, but it also heigh-tens the senses...especially the sense of humor. Here is the first of my many ZANY race observations:

Homeless Commentary
Five minutes after crossing the start line, we jogged past a homeless guy, setting out for his day in the predawn hours. His overloaded shopping cart was an imposing mountain that caused the runner stream to part dangerously like the Red Sea to avoid him. The parallel route he had chosen cut a moving patch of empty asphalt through thousands of hyped racers. Because we were at the back edge of the crowd, we had no trouble jogging slowly by.

"Bedah hurrie, or you neva goina make it," he called out as we passed him on the street. Excuse us?! The nerve! We laughed at the sheer audacity of the comment.

He and the other scavengers of SF's streets definitely had the last laugh that day though. With thousands of affluent racers going by, the entire course was littered with discarded or fallen clothing. Piles of sweatshirts, t-shirts, hats - even warm-up pants in every color, were piled on curbs, dropped in the road, or hung off of convenient roadside benches. It definitely occurred to me that the race is probably an excellent opportunity for increasing the warmth and bedding levels of the city's vagrants.

#2 Down and n2go

San Francisco Marathon - Half 1st Bib: 19929

Name: Yvette Keller
Gender: F
Age: 33
Hometown: San Jose CA

Place Overall: 3796 out of 3858

Women: 2065 out of 2114

F 30-39: 732 out of 743

AgeGrade: 31.64%

Place: 3812

FINISH: 3:26:37
pace: 15:46
7.4 Miles: 2:02:19
pace: 16:32

Chip Time:
3:26:37

Gun Time:
3:48:19

Success Stories

I was a "guest speaker" in a weight loss group this week. In preparation for that, and in order to promote my "success story" workshop, I tried to create story cards for a few success stories of my own. I wrote to my health coach about what a wracking emotional experience it was. At some deep level I remain very sad and "fat" emotionally. I can only hope that as my inner-world is slimmer, healthier and more "fit" it will catch up to my "new" body:

I wanted to tell you that putting together the Success Stories was an incredible experience, but not quite what I expected. I started with a bunch of random event and before / after pics that I liked / felt were representative of my life pre & post weight loss. Then I just looked for themes.

When I envisioned / tweaked the content for the class, I imagined that the pictures might be just generic before - and - after, or some event, etc. As I put mine together though, finding the "story" behind the photos was a very emotional experience. I found myself gulping back tears, and finally letting go with some deep sobs a few times.

I could remember what it felt like to be the little girl who hated Mr. Messineo, the phys Ed teacher. I remember coming in from runs last, or taking "short cuts" on runs around the school, and being labeled "cheater." I remembered how humilitating it was to get on that rollercoaster ride at LegoLand, and have hips too bit to "fit."

There's a lot of things there still "healing" and still in-process...all of which makes offering the opportunity to others that much more important. AND, I understand why I may not get very many people taking me up on that offer - which is just fine too. Those that are ready will "connect" with me as the time is right for them.

Somehow we all have to revise our images of ourselves as competent and successful weight managers in order to continue BEING that every day. When faced with the alternatives, my mocha shake doesn't seem like a deprivation - it DOES feel like a balanced compromise. Getting out and doing my PA still "hurts," but I FEEL how much it is a part of the person I want to be as opposed to the person I don't ever want to be again.

When I teach a class (I'm sure, just like you guys) I do my best to walk-the-walk so that I can always teach from the heart. My heart is in this, so I know that eventually I will be successful in helping others. The other thing I feel though, I have to admit, is doubt. I mean who am I to "teach" anything? What is there in my experience that is in any way "special?"

The answer is: NOTHING. I'm just like millions of other people, struggling with the same stuff. That makes the message almost more compelling, ironically. I have a little extra bravery / brashness, a little extra public-speaking training, and a will to "do good" in the world. Those things allow me to "share" what works for me in the hopes it might help someone else at some point.

Likin' the Horoscope - Ease Day 3

You have a chance today to align your will power with your desires for a healthier lifestyle, including diet, hygiene, and exercise programs. This isn't about quick fixes, though. It's about powerful and sweeping changes that can take some time to have their full effect. Don't worry about what may lie ahead. For now, go ahead and push yourself through whatever resistance you face.
Thursday, July 13, 2006

"A Chance today...." That sounds VERY promising. I will have to stay awake to do that, which might be tough after such a restless night. Late to bed, awoken at 1am by...?...houseguest arriving sometime before 2, and the alarm went off at 5:55. Ouch.

Off to get some highly-caff tea....
Yvette

A peek of how others see

The small exchange below is a wonderful dialog between me and one of my "costuming" friends. We are meeting for a Regency event Sunday. It took me several minutes before I understood her reply; Once I did, I was so tickled by this example of how she made connections: How she thinks! I *love* stuff like that!


ME to V
More options
Jul 11 (1 day ago)

V,

Mr. B is in "wait and see" mode. FYI, if we do meet there, SF has some road closures on Sundays, so check the GBACG website for information on which roads will be open / where to park. I'm pretty sure I can convince Mr. B to come - especially if we bring a change of clothes and rollerblades in the car!

*hugs*
Y

V to ME
More options
Jul 11 (1 day ago)

Y,

that is one of the things I absolutely love about you two as a couple!!!
time travellers!!!

V

Astrology - Easeful Day 2

From my Google Horoscope:

Hidden feelings may have power over you today and it might be tough to understand what's going on -- until you look within. But this may take a real commitment now, for you must get beyond the surface noise and into your deep inner workings. Meditation or even just relaxation can be the best way to uncover what you need to know.

Hmmmm. Relaxation....what a nice idea. Ease...another great one. Alerady the ideas I had for being easefull each day are slipping away into the wells of well-meaning. Do things we learn seep into our psyche? Do they help us later? How do we practice them to the extent that they become default and push aside less desirable behaviors?

Easeful Day 1

I'm so bored today it is completely stressing me out. I have little tasks - in fact a LOT of boring, administrative, catch-up tasks I'm unmotivated to do. No big projects to fit them in around...to make me feel busy.

As a result I'm feeling very exhausted - not "tired" exactly, but more like I could simply fall asleep without a moment's notice. In response, I frantically started organizing the piles on my desk: What is THIS? What is THAT? What am I forgetting? What is pending? Whatwhatwhatwhat....

I'm sure it doesn't help that last night my cockatoo work up in the middle of the night twice...and then again this morning about a half-hour before the alarm was going to go off anyway. Not good sleep, as I was prowling my full moonlit house at 2am looking for trouble.

Is there an animal in the yard making noise? Did we leave the garage door open? (The light in the garage was, in fact, on). Is it that moonbeam lancing through the slight curtain gap; slicing through his peaceful birdie-sleep? Is it just his raging teenage birdie hormones, and the fact that he has not been out to run amok as often as he'd like lately? The experince of being covered with a towel and placed back in his cage when he decides he won't go in voluntarily? Perhaps the cage cleaning and fresh-box? Not enough birdie food? Water? Too much sweet yellow corn? The fact that I left the travel cage out in the room for him to ponder / get used to? A lack of something in his diet? Too much of something in his diet? What on earth gives him those horrible, screaching birdie nightmares...? I wish he could talk (like me).

Instead of simply fighting the sleepiness with frantic busywork, I decided to write. I'm trying to "trust my tools" and manage my sense of well-being by doing the things that center and ground me when I feel off-kilter. Writing is so grounding...even boring, plain, ungrammatical, writing of no interest whatsoever to anyone but me...is relaxing...beautiful...useful....productive...because I'm ferreting out my own thoughts and feelings and morphing them into words, words, words....

Words allow me to try and discover why I want to get some BREAD or SWEET and munch, munch, munch. That impulse is solidly about worry and boredom and what if: What if I'm this bored because there is nothing to do and I am going to lose my job? What if I HAVE to do the things I don't like? What if, whatif...

I started a book last night recommended by some friends. It is interesting, but I'm not "caught up" yet. Tarot cards are a central theme / plot element and make me wonder whether I should try to go back to doing my card pull each day. I SO enjoyed it...but stopped - probably because I can't let it be "okay" that I don't write about each card each day. I despise and disown "sporadic," and yet, that word describes me to a "T." As my Nohari Window Validates:

Arena (known to self and others) intolerant, insecure, needy, chaotic	Blind Spot (known only to others) inflexible, selfish, unhappy, cynical, irrational, distant, boastful, impatient, panicky, insensitive, smug, overdramatic, inattentive
Façade (known only to self) loud, callous	Unknown (known to nobody) incompetent, timid, cowardly, violent, aloof, glum, stupid, simple, irresponsible, vulgar, lethargic, withdrawn, hostile, unhelpful, unimaginative, inane, brash, cruel, ignorant, childish, blasé, imperceptive, weak, embarrassed, vacuous, unethical, self-satisfied, passive, rash, dispassionate, dull, predictable, unreliable, cold, foolish, humourless

Dominant Traits

55% of people agree that YvetteK is intolerant
55% of people think that YvetteK is inflexible
55% of people agree that YvetteK is chaotic
66% of people think that YvetteK is overdramatic

All Percentages

incompetent (0%) intolerant (55%) inflexible (55%) timid (0%) cowardly (0%) violent (0%) aloof (0%) glum (0%) stupid (0%) simple (0%) insecure (11%) irresponsible (0%) vulgar (0%) lethargic (0%) withdrawn (0%) hostile (0%) selfish (33%) unhappy (11%) unhelpful (0%) cynical (33%) needy (44%) unimaginative (0%) inane (0%) brash (0%) cruel (0%) ignorant (0%) irrational (11%) distant (11%) childish (0%) boastful (11%) blasé (0%) imperceptive (0%) chaotic (55%) impatient (44%) weak (0%) embarrassed (0%) loud (0%) vacuous (0%) panicky (22%) unethical (0%) insensitive (33%) self-satisfied (0%) passive (0%) smug (11%) rash (0%) dispassionate (0%) overdramatic (66%) dull (0%) predictable (0%) callous (0%) inattentive (11%) unreliable (0%) cold (0%) foolish (0%) humourless (0%)

Created by the Nohari Window on 11.7.2006, using data from 9 respondents.
You can make your own Nohari Window, or view YvetteK's full data.

this is

what it feels like.
i stabed myself in the han dlast night with the least used Wustoff knife in my wedding set. that means today i hurt, and i feel even more like an idiot, because everyone who sees me wants to know what hapened. bloodthirsty cannibals! it hurts almost as much as allowing myself to type without caps...but i've learned that i can't make do without periods (and preiodical spurts of left-hand onlt typing while i put myhand back up over myhead).

if i wasn't so tired from th 2+hour emergency room wait for my two stitches, i'd be doing something usefull right now. instead i'm bloggin one-hsnded and laughing at myself.

emergency was actually not so bad. lots of older folks, very sick. one young guy with the crazy-big 70s afro that is usually only seen in sitcom reruns. he was lank-extreme, wearing elephant sized baggy jeans and a four foot long whit t-shirt. the t-shirt was a silkscreen job, meticulously designed to look hand-painted with a spray can and stencils in brash primary greens, reds and blues. he went by slow and clutching his stomach, but still not fast enough to make sense of the apparel graffiti.

[CONT.]
today I'm feel MUCH better, but not better enough to care about caps and typos. they are choices. as emergency room injuries go, this one has been a bit of a picnic. pain, yes, but no lasting damage. I think I only shed (look! capital I's!) a couple of tears. I didn't feel bandoned, alone and terrified (like I did when a door nearly cutoff my left ring feinger).

[Cont.]
One week after the accident. I'm healing fine and I get my stitches out tomorrow. I can tell it is healing well because it has started ITCHING like crazy. In less happy news, I appear to have caught a nasty cold with a horrible sore throat, congestion and I'm tired, tired, tired.

Time to just post this and be done with it!

Bot Flash Back

While Googling my name the other day I came across the bio I posted to the BattleBots Builders Website as pretty much a joke:

Yvette Keller

Background
None Whatsoever. Oh-Kay, I make hats.
And wings out of wire.
I hang my own pictures with nails on the wall.
That's *really* it...

Two friends of my husband's were building a Bot and coming to CA to fight it. Since we "sponsored" their trip (crash space, and a car, and local fan base) they included us a members of the team.

Achievements
People are finally taking me seriously.

They asked us to construct bios for posting on the BattleBots site. In what universe I construed that as "taking me seriously" I'd like to know...

Goals
Goal: Have fun!
Expectation: cheer and laugh so much that
I shout myself hoarse.

Which was pretty cool at the time, and is now a really fascinating "time capsule" of my attitude towards things back in 200...???

Influence
Inspector gadget.
My (departed) cat, Cinnamon.

Yes, I really did dearly love the Inspector gadget cartoons when I was younger. I can clearly visualize watching them with my brother, and I get an elusive rush of cammaraderie and sibling affection. I can't explain the cat / Bot connection. Cinnamon's ashes are still with me in a little box marked "Cinnamon." The idea of this makes me giggle for a lot of reasons, but none that make sense in a Bot context...?

Family, Friends, School
My friends make wacky projects seem like a good idea.
Mark makes wacky projects seem do-able.
Mom can make any wacky project actually happen.

I think this is one of the truest things I've written.

Favorite Tool
Sewing Machine.

I am *so* out of this phase. After my wedding, I sewed nothing for 3 years. Only recently have I been trying to wean myself back onto the idea that sewing might not be pure torture. I'm only in it for the end product - not the process. I've learned that with creative stuff, it is actually much better to love the process than the product. I am hopefull that by practicing sewing I will be better and better...and that an increased skillset will result in decresed hysterical phone calls begging my saintly mother for help when it all comes out wrong...but realistically, I'm also letting it be "okay" for me to give up sewing forever. I don't believe that yet, but someday I might.

Inevitable Impulses

I'm pretty sure it started around 11am this morning. I had finished some mildly frustrating e-mail exchanges regarding complicated schedules...I started feeling hungry.

My 3-5PM appointment was the final session of a Time & Project management course. I opened the appointment, only to find that none of my attendees had accepted. Breathing deeply, reminding myself that these four employees were my customers, I walked around the office to make sure that the 4 students in my class were in fact, planning to attend. I felt hungrier.

I received the following unenthusiastic responses to my question: "Are you coming to our last class this afternoon?"
"What time?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"This is the LAST class, right?"

Prisoners. The lot of them. Oh, Joy.

And now I got back to my desk famished, wanting to cry, and wanting to eateateateateat, get out of the office and eat badly.

So I sat down at my desk and ate some lovely fruit salad. I barely noticed the rich, sweet fruit, because I was upset.

I tried to calm myself. I took deep breaths. I reminded myself that the food In The Gap was not supportive. I explained that while a walk or getting out of the office would probably make me feel better, eating would only SEEM to make me feel better. The fruit didn't feel good - too much acid on an empty stomach.

I decided to leave the office and call my husband...who was busy. Busy having a nice lunch, wherever he wanted, with buddies of his from former companies. And not able to talk to me; Help me overcome the sadness which translated into cravings for food "out."

So I went to the bank...to The Gap. I genuinely wanted to problem-solve a food situation that I did not have to prepare for myself. My lunch needed to be hot, novel and primarily vegetable-based (lower calorie). food options scrolled through my head:

Bagel sandwich (but the last one I had wasn't very good - not worth it)
Sushi (but that looks like it will take too long)
Starbucks (I almost fed my impulse with a green tea latte and a slice of lowfat mocha cake...but what kind of lunch is *that*?)

Finally I was going to leave, when the taqueria jalapeno menu caught my eye: Zucchini burrito. Rice, black beans, grilled zucchini and corn in a wheat tortilla. Mmmmmmmm. Pretty good compromise. Certainly better than many other choices. Now I could feel good about myself for making a good choice, even if I had to feel guilty and depressed about wanting to (and giving in to) eating out to begin with.

Back at the office, I sat at my desk, reviewing slides for my "doomed" class in a few hours. I ate half of the tortilla, a little more than half of the insides, and the small baggie of tortilla chips that came with it.

I started to feel full (What? ME? Full?!). I decided to wrap the other half of the burrito up and save it for later. I finished my "baby" diet coke and decided I needed water.

I know that this whole episode of boring details was a huge way to avoid how sad I felt about my class being "rejected." And me by association. The inevitable impulse to eat to find calm and relaxation and emotional balance is terribly, terribily obvious...But what was the alternative? Until I made the emotional pain (associated strongly with the hunger) go away, I was cognitively frantic - unable to focus on why I feel so rejected and unappreciated by my reluctant co-workers.

Is my impulse to eat what I "shouldn't" - foods that are un-supportive by virtue of their higher calories) - truly inevitable? Is there, in fact, a solid cognitive strategy for dealing with emotional eating?

I suppose the search continues. I hope I find out.

[It occurs to me to try bringing PowerGel to the office for occasions when this occurs. If I can recognize the emotional eating right away, as I did in this case, maybe the "frosting" association will help me get through it with fewer calories.]

My First 1/2 Marathon

Wanted to share a couple of meditations from my 1/2 marathon hike/run this weekend.

First, physical activity at that level engenders meditation / spaciousness / ponderance of the universe. Second, my course was incredibly beautiful: redwood forest, a tight dirt trail, thickly carpeted with leaves...and really tough: 1000ft+ elevation change, hiking straight up through the forest for nearly 2 hours, trying to keep up with a 15 minute mile pace. Third, after my walking partner had an energy spurt and ended up about 15 minutes ahead of me, it was silent except for the sound of my passage.

Out of all these things (and a cocktail mix of lovely bio-endorphins), came the following interesting and 'deep' revelations, walloping my consciousness with all the forcefullness of several consecutive brick walls:

'Extreme' exercise creates spaciousness. It forces a focus on the physical body: How am I feeling? What do I need RIGHT now? Where do I hurt? Where do I feel an intense relaxation? What are my emotions telling me about what I am doing?

Watching all of these things for hours at a time while I was alone with myself, made me deeply understand Jen's "Bit of Earth." The space allocated to me in this life is limited by the boundary of my skin, and it moves inward to my core from there. Nothing else in the world 'belongs' to me, and I can't 'take care' of anything else in the universe. I may effect things, but I can never own them - they are not my 'space.'

Given how very small 'my space' is, it should be a simple task to really Take Care of it. I congratulated myself over and over for choosing to do such a special, wonderful healthy thing, like get out and exercise my body, and feel how welcoming the forest, earth, and plants were.

The running through the woods on a smaller up-and-down-hill slope, was like all the best things a roller-coaster ride can be! I found myself throwing my arms up in the air and whooping with laughter and gargantuan breaths. It was hard to stop running, because the speed and joy of doing so was so exhilirating! The plants were cheering me on - grateful for all that CO2...

When I got tired or thirsty I had EVERYTHING I needed. Water, energy drinks, gels, treats - everything to tell my body and my mind that It and I was/were "O-Kay. No worries." It was an amazing experience to know I had completely taken care of myself and needed nothing else to
be sucessful.

When I came across other runners who had surpassed my pace early on, I had plenty of energy to make sure they were allright, and had brought enough supplies to be generous and offering of the things I did not need. I felt like the super-marathon-trail-mom: ready to bear a little extra weight in the hope that that could help others along my way. It was in my skin, my heart and my core being to notice when those I passed needed a smile, encouragement or just some calories! What a hero I was for several people who looked miserable - with no effort or sacrifice - entirely safely.

I've definitely been TIRED since the event, and almost disabling-ly sore...but again, immensely peaceful. Yesterday I'm sure I spent at least 2 hours with friends engaged in whole-body-belly-laughing about almost nothing. There was a wonderful, deep freedom of spirit to be gained by doing something 'unthinkable' to me - let alone 'undoable.' And now I've done it, and I feel like my very soul has grown new spaciousness for possibilities I have not even imagined yet.

Crushing Defeat from the Jaws of Victory

I've been facilitating that "Improvement team" again at work. Each week, I capture what was discussed and I send / post it to the team. In the team, I've been saying something over and over again for weeks. Each week, I draw and share my own conclusions about what we've discussed. I've been harping on one idea, one conclusion, but it never seemed to seep into the whole group-mindset.

Today, another team member stated the ONE THING I've been saying for several weeks. Everyone went, "Ahhh, yes, great idea. Let's do that."

I feel like complete crap. My emotional conclusions about this experience are the following:

1) I hate trusting group process. I hate waiting for everyone else to "catch up."
2) (As a result, I'm in the wrong line of work, but maybe we'll get back to that later)
3) I am a craptastic facilitator.
4) I am a worthless communicator, and in this instance, I have no idea why.

I did more writing about this to share with my Working with Ease cohort:

Working with Challenges – Process Window & 'Reporting to Yourself'

Happy Wednesday - Yvette Here. I don't know if I'm alone or not in the fact that I 100% "forgot" about our fieldwork. I know it happened somewhere between writing action items on my workbook last week, and today's e-mail with week 8 materials. Despite my login reminder to strive for One Thing; despite excellent intentions, and even specific ideas about what to present...I allowed the deliverable to slip away from the forefront in my mind (where it probably wreaked unconscious havoc and subliminal panic).

Needless to say, my reaction today was less than Easeful.

I immediately recognized that the meta-fieldwork had become an attempt to easefully integrate a less-than-ideal deliverable (the fieldwork) into my day and CHOOSE to handle it in as easeful a manner as possible.

First I had to have a conversation with myself and decide what my priority was. Should I do Ease-work, or Company-work? Could I combine both? Which would more critical for my success...immediately? Long Term? Which would support a higher-quality of work output?

I have chosen (and I have the luxury of choice) to give myself as much time as I need to easefully 'work through' the fieldwork, in this moment, within today's context. I feel unable to express a "presentation on working with challenges." For the present, I feel far too incompetent to draw any conclusions of my own, so I will share the following instead:

1) Challenge Case Study: Day in the Life of a Bored Drama Queen
2) An exercise called "Reporting to Yourself" which can be found at: http://www.thework.com/pdf/articles_21WaysEnglish.pdf

Please note that I'm trying this exercise out for the first time, and I heard of "The Work" for the first time 6 days ago. It is not "a resource" in the sense that I recommend it…I offer it only as a "sample."

One of my biggest challenges is remembering that "There is a better (easeful) way."

Another challenge is putting "life" into the same box as "work." Everything is SO MUCH WORK that of course I would forget little things...like living and working with Ease.

Athena’s coaching challenged me about thinking “WORKLIFE” into this big, hard, scary, dramatic, unending (unendurable) challenge, with an opposite of “fun.”

In my blog / journaling, I have pondered for myself what it means when a task is “effortless.” When work flows and just *is* without angst. Because writing and speaking are an effortless, easeful way for me to approach ideas and process my experiences, I offer them to you…probably in more words than necessary. At least I will have completed the fieldwork for myself. Given myself the time to gain perspective and completion. I feel better for having tried to get objective about what I saw happen versus what I felt happening.

* * * * *

Day in the Life of a Bored Drama Queen
I had an emotionally crippling work experience this morning. Today, a very simple thing “caught” me during a team meeting / facilitation: A suggestion I had offered to the group several times, in different ways, over the past 4 weeks, was offered by another team member, and immediately accepted.

My external reaction was to re-state the suggestion, confirm with the team that taking action was a unanimous decision, and call the meeting to a close. My internal reaction was to crumble into pieces – smashed by my own response of pain and anger and frustration:

Why did this conclusion take so long? Why did I have to endure the frustration of believing in this action for weeks while the team “caught up?” Why didn’t they react that way when I made the same suggestion? Why didn’t the team adopt this tactic when I mentioned it before? Why can’t they hear *ME*? Why am I communicating so badly? Why is ‘trusting the process’ so annoying? Why are my facilitation skills so bad that I am invested in the decision AND constantly wishing I could skip the process? Why have I been assigned to do this work when my reaction clearly indicates I am not competent?

I’m relieved by the outcome and at the same time angry that I will get no recognition for my contribution. That anger and frustration
means I’m obviously not suited for the job. The fact that they didn’t see the
merits of the option when I presented it must mean I can’t communicate well enough. The content captures and notes I spend so much time compiling confuse the team instead of clarifying. They make the task harder instead of easier. They impede the process instead of allowing it to follow a natural progression. Either that or it is actually *me* the team distrusts. Something personal or situational is preventing my message from reaching the team. What could THAT be?

Entirely In my head, I questioned my position and my abilities. I felt that I had done a terrible job of communicating, facilitating, capturing and supporting the team. I considered that perhaps I don’t have the skills, the strength or the competence to do my work in this area. I desperately churned through many possible scenarios for “fixing” myself, the group, the company, the process…and concluded that I believe no “fix” is possible at this time. I have to continue and see where this particular process will lead. I despise the waiting - I want to act and have it be over-and-done-with. It is all too easy to be in a demoralized, mournful and completely insecure place.

* * * * * *

The Exercise: Reporting to Yourself - This exercise can help in healing fear and terror. Practice reporting events to yourself as if a circumstance you find yourself in is actually a news story and you are the roving reporter. Announce exactly what your surroundings are and what's happening "on the scene" at that very moment. Fear is always the result of projecting a re-creation of the past into the now or the future. If you find yourself fearful, find the core belief and inquire: "Is it true that I need to be fearful in this situation? What is actually happening right now, physically? Where is my body (hands, arms, feet, legs, head)? What do I see (trees, walls, windows, sky)?" Impersonalizing our stories gives us an opportunity to look at circumstances more objectively, and choose our responses to what life brings. Living in our minds, believing our untrue thoughts, is a good way to scare ourselves to death, and it can appear in form as old age, cancer, degeneration, high blood pressure, etc.

NOTE: I didn’t even know about this activity this morning, so this is as if I was on the sidelines actually observing. I tried to imagine that the team was the new Iraqui Government. Boy, that helped!

* * * * * *
At 10:28AM PST in Sunnyvale, California, the WC Improvement Team decided unanimously to recommend that additional data be collected on customer needs. The team plans to present this recommendation in the form of a single PowerPoint slide. The slide is slated to include a graph of OTD to CRD for 2006, and a request for additional data. Also in the planning stages are five bullet-points providing recommendations for what data would be useful and how it might be collected.

All members of the team appeared visibly relieved by the outcome and plan.

The weekly team meeting began at 9:30AM with the opening question: “Are we telling marketing how to do their job?” The team had been expressly warned not to make direct recommendations for changes within the Marketing Department. Given the warning, the facilitator asked, “As a team seeking “improvement” in the area of meeting customer needs, what are we actually doing?”

Several team members shared divergent opinions: Yes, if we see an area for improvement in marketing ‘territory’, we are going to recommend that change. Another pointed out that having been the focus of previous recommendations, she felt that the team “sometimes came up with good ideas, while some just showed that the team was ignorant of ‘how things worked’ resulting in recommendations which could not be implemented.”

The debate culminated with a review of the team’s charter and a general consensus that the scope of “customer satisfaction” was so broad that yes, the team might have to make recommendations seen by some as intrusive. Team members agreed that the way to prevent defensiveness was to include the experts and get buy-in and input for the recommendations before making them.

The facilitator shifted the team to the second task: reviewing the content of slides that summarized team work and conclusions to date. Written responses had been submitted prior, expressing disagreement with the content of certain slides. The facilitator addressed each area of contention. At one point in the discussion, a team member asked the facilitator “Where did this information come from? Did you just make it up?” Looking shocked, the facilitator explained that the wording was content offered by a fellow team member, captured in the team notes from one week earlier.

Prior to making the decision, the team provided feedback about confusing elements of the slides. Headings were changed for clarification, re-ordering was suggested. Some information one member wanted to add was identified as existing in a location which seemed illogical to him. Positive feedback was offered for the format of the slides in contrast to previous attempts.

The facilitator sat at the head of the Red Conference Room table, hands alternately typing captures into a PowerPoint slide and making notes on a lined 8.5 x 11 notebook. Members of the team self-facilitated well, often inquiring of the quieter members, re-stating for understanding and making open efforts to respect team opinions and allow team mates to finish their sentences.

With only eight minutes remaining, dissatisfaction with the slide content prompted conversation about the usefulness of team debate, ideas-sharing and the prospect of quarter end and no foreseeable outcome. After one lengthy monologue on why the team process was a waste of time, especially with only three work-weeks remaining, the facilitator sharply stopped a team member to ask, “Wait one minute – what would that look like if it was not a waste of time? What would the ideal outcome be?” The response was that instead of trying to delve into or gather data which currently did not exist in the organization, perhaps the team should simply provide the data found and indicate a need for additional data – reiterating a suggestion made by the facilitator several weeks before. The suggestion was then unanimously accepted.

Appreciation

A few weeks ago a friend of mine wrote to me:

"So BTW... you know those little cards you made for us for your birthday tea? I had slipped mine into my purse before leaving and forgot about it. I was sitting here in my office last week cleaning my purse out before leaving for LA and found it again. I was just so touched by what you wrote that I have hung it up on my office bulletin board. Now when I'm feeling crappy at work, I just look at that and smile. It's hanging out right next to my stolen napkin from Bimbos. Your card and the naked lady riding the girly fish are bulletin board friends."

This made me feel *great* and I wrote this back:

"I always felt like I had the crappiest friends in the whole world when I was young. I vowed that I would learn how to be a “good” friend when I was older. I certainly didn’t manage that when I was in high-school; I made some great friends for a little while in college, but wasn’t able to keep them.

In the present day, I may not manage my friendships as well as I possibly could. The fact remains that the current set of peeps are the ones I hope to keep for the 50 years that remain to me in this lifetime! These days that means finding opportunities to say “Thank You” and be appreciative when they present themselves.

It feels like it took a really long time to figure out what that 5-year old at Disneyland reminded me of on my birthday: It actually does wonders to take the time to say, “Thank You. I think you’re cool. Friends Forever…?!?”

The exchange also prompted a very fine discussion with my husband about how we make intentional choices about who we are.

I would love to write the Disneyland 33rd Birthday story and say a little more about the conversation about how we learn to use empathy as a tool for persoective...maybe later.

Pride

I'm very proud of a few very odd things at the moment. They may not make sense without back-story, but I want to document them for myself:

1) Asking business questions
2) "Magnanimity" per the President of the company
3) Creating a very safe, open space for others to engage in conflict and clear agreements on a recent project
3) Keeping an extra pair of sweatpants in the car and knowing when to offer them to a friend
4) Recognizing that a litter-sweep makes an EXCELLENT bailing-can
5) Sharing the RIGHT information at the RIGHT time
6) Practicing my shy-Spanish
7) Eating an Apple

I probably don't give myself kudos and recognition as often as I should. Really, we should all do it more often, probably.

Poking People

My friend writes:

I've answered the Johari, but I cannot answer the Nohari because there aren't 6 words there which describe you.

What I can say is that I think our strengths are almost always also our weaknesses. So, I put down "organized" on Johari, which is your strength, but when flexibility is
needed, sticking to the plan would be a weakness.

I general, I find you to be a good friend, able to hold groups together, and interesting in knowing about yourself and others.

I think you are fine the way you are, and I am happy to know you.

Awwwww! I have rockin' friends! I also have WISE friends. I am very much drawn to this idea that our strengths and weaknesses are the same - let's run a test:

Loving / Needy - Yep
Organized / Inflexible - Yep (although I'm not convinced about the 1st part!)
Intelligent / Overdramatic....? (hmm. What's the opposite of intelligent? Naive?)

More to come I'm sure...

Rainy Monday

I was reading my friend Michael's blog and he did this cool exercise online called a Johari Window http://kevan.org/johari.

It is a pretty self-explanatory little tool that assesses how perceptions of self overlap or disconnect with perceptions of others. This may be a good way to explore that self/others disconnect that I am plagued by so often. I'll be sure to process how it turns out here.

(Several hours later)

Beware the Nohari...so let's say you open yourself up and say "Yo! Friends and family. What do you think my WORST personality traits are?"

And you get the list. And well, it's negative because, well, you're asking for the negative. And well, there aren't any mitigating factors...no "why" do you think this, or opportunity to discuss the level at which someone thinks your bad traits are showing themselves. The same people are saying the nicest mostest wonderfullest things about you on the Johari...but the negative is still there, and has some evidence, experience or perceptive validity behind it. And you have no context.

That's my current experience of the Johari / Nohari windows. I want context! Examples! Discussion. A list of forced-choice adjectives is only so useful.

Biggest Shocker so Far: My mother thinks I'm insensitive (!?!). I can only describe this as hilarious. My experience of interacting with my mother is that I always so hyper-conscious of her feelings, my feelings, and maintaining some distance from being consumed by our conflicting "stuff" that that I have to assume the resulting insensitivity of her must be a survival strategy. Probably combined with a honest dose of "not-getting-her" since she's solidly on the introvert side of the relationship wall.

Biggest "Uh-Huh" so Far: 100% of those surveyed find me "inflexible." I agree with that. I like schedules, plans, and boy, do I have opinions. Changing paths is very difficult for me. Changing habits is even harder. Not as hard as it is for some people I know, though...

Gay Cowboys

I saw Brokeback Mountain last night (yes, yes, - the last person on the planet to see it), and as the hours pass, it becomes increasingly obvious why the film was up for best picture.

Initial reactions keep washing over me...and I assume they will for days...because what is portrayed in the film is done so exquisitely that there is never a moment of fiction - of disbelief - of being taken "out" of the film.

There are few things that I reacted most strongly too - the things I feel actually made the movie:

1) The eye contact - the whole movie was about having it, or not. The entire story was literally expressed through who was able to look at whom and when. There is no experience like sitting and looking into a person's eyes. The way the main characters' eyes connected by physically holding each others' heads, and forcing that bonding to occur, was a testament to how badly they both wanted - and wanted to escape - the emotion overwhelming them.

2) The physical contact - my sexuality does not include violence beyond the standard grab, clench and hold. The brutality of the sex portrayed in the movie, and the masculinity - the literal fight of self and other those characters go through to be able to give in to physical intimacy...and then again, the physical pain, the inside-out beating the two men took from their longing to be together. These were in such stark contrast to the softness, and carefullness expressed in the sex scenes with women. It makes perfect sense to me that either kind of intimacy could be a turn on - and that having a partner who could hold their own - give and take the brutality in equal measure with tenderness...well, that is a need which was eloquently portrayed.

3) Lastly, we are so lucky to live where and WHEN we do. Yes, gays are beaten and hated in my lifetime. But not that I've faced personally. I've felt the fear of marching in a Pride Parade, but I've only ever marched with thousands of others around me, strength in numbers, to face down the people at the edges of the crowds, taunting and hating. The intense loneliness of the place and time and society was really the star of the movie.