InsideOutside

When I was in kindergarten I had this reversible windbreaker jacket that I thought was the coolest jacket in the universe; it was a hideous plaid on one side and a bright white on the other. I know it sounds simple, and you’re probably thinking what makes that so cool? Surely, you’re only thinking that because you’re not letting the word “reversible” sink in; I mean, do you understand? This jacket was essentially TWO jackets, and this concept seemed awesome to me; I didn’t have to settle with sticking to one thing. Anyway, I’m having a particularly difficult day, and in that very worst moment, where the sobbing is so overwhelming that you can no longer breathe, that you are on the verge of vomiting, it occurred to me that I am, in part, suffering this moment, this news I got today, because I try(ied) to make myself reversible.

Clearly, it’s a metaphor to be taken figuratively, not literally; although, right now I do feel a bit outside of my skin. The analogy perhaps won’t work for everyone, but it’s where I ended up so my apologies & on to the reversible me.

I can be the sweetest girl you’ll ever meet, but I can also be, and again my apologies for the lack of better wording, the biggest bitch as well. It’s not to say that either one is fake, nor am I even sure that one is more sub-consciously dominant over the other; they’re just the two sides of me. It would be nice if they always acted in tandem as I think that would spare me a lot of trouble and heartache. (Oh, and before I really get going on this tangent, I preface the following with the acknowledgement that I not only speak in the third person at times, but I also write as if I have a split personality. I know that it all sounds insane, but it’s cathartic to step outside of oneself and to break down the various components that make us).

The sweet girl is a fixer and would give anything to take care of the people she adores and even puts a fair amount of care and energy into complete strangers. She wants the world to smile and to be smiling with them, but she is also a pushover and susceptible to abuse from others in all sorts of forms. Kindness and generosity are easily taken advantage of, or at the very least, taken for granted. She hides things to protect other people because she can not stand to see them hurting, and these things can be consuming. The other day a friend told me the body does not need to cry so things are best when left bottled inside; I disagree.

The girl that’s a bitch? Well, she’s actually kind of sweet as well. Sometimes that side is only showing in an effort to protect someone else; however, that’s only on occasion. It is with some regret that I admit; I can be rather intolerant and have trouble keeping my opinions under wraps. This girl is also selfish, and while I love the part of her that refuses to be walked on, I dislike the pretention and the self-absorption she is filled with. Like the sweet girl, the bitch hides things too, but she hides to protect herself. Sadly, things this girl tucked away are coming out of hiding, and I am metaphorically choking on them so much so that it’s barely a metaphor; I sincerely lost my breath today. She is finally in trouble, and she is me. I never wanted to be her anyway, but alas here I am, broken and not sure if it’s a job that can actually be repaired. I don’t want to divulge her secrets, and I do not want to ask for help.

I only share this much so that I can ask for some things: I ask for patience and forgiveness of any poor behavior on my part while I sort this mess out as I don’t know which girl I’ll be on any given day. I want to say that I will be the sweet one. Actually, I’d like to say I’ll be neither, and that I will manage to perfect that tandem. In the interim, I am going to try my hardest to be kind and to exist where I am supposed to be. I say the latter because today I started packing; for a moment I thought about running away from it, but I’ve already been running without getting anywhere good. I wish today had happened on a day that I was feeling physically stronger, healthier. I know wishes are for whimsy and not real life, but I am still going to close my eyes and take a deep breath before I make my wish for this to just be fixed with as much as ease as real life can muster.

All sorts of growing up

December 14, 2008
Wow, it has been exactly one month since I blogged. I can not believe that I have been such a slacker about it, but honestly, I've just had a lot going on. My heart, my mind, my days...they're all busy, but in an effort to recenter I pulled two old journals down off the bookshelf tonight and decided to share some "poems" circa 1997. *smiles* I had forgotten how brooding I could be as well as how full of whimsy I was at times. Really, reading 16 and 17 year-old Karen got me thinking about the growing up that I'm still doing at 28.

Tomorrow marks the one week anniversary of finally getting my driver's license. I have to say, it's kinda nice being able to get myself places, but I still definitely like to be chauffered. While lots of people liked to taunt me about not driving, saying I needed to join the grown ups, it's not the actual license part that makes me feel like I did some growing; it's the deciding it's okay to not do everything perfectly and to let people see me make a mistake here and there. Todd Smith was a fairly patient teacher, and I am thankful it was him that I learned from. After 11 years, there is a best friend kinda comfort that you can't get with anyone else. We all know that I am a spoiled brat that can not stand to be anything but "right", and the boy was tolerant of my nonsense.

Anyway, tomorrow...it is also the day that I teach my very first yoga class. Obviously, I am an attention whore and like for people to take notice of me (positively, of course), but I am kind of nervous to be in front of people in that sort of venue. I'm told it's an audition, and to me auditions = a little scary (back to that only wanting to do things in front of people if success is guaranteed).

Not only do I love the practice of yoga, but instructing is another step in growing up for me. In general, I like where I am am but I need to put myself out there a bit more so that I can move on to bigger and better things. The fear of putting me out "there" isn't what kept me from finishing school though; however, I think it certainly certainly factors into what keeps me from going back. Things are both different and the same for me as they were 7 years ago when I stopped, and that is a falsely dichotomous life revelation that I just don't want to address.

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January 6, 2009

Goodness! It has been a while since I've written anything, but I heard a little cinematic dialogue that reminded me of something I was thinking when I left this one to nearly die on the drafting clipboard. I was watching a movie with my highly cherished nieces, and one of the main characters referenced something about how people were always talking about her artistic, musical potential as a child because they were impressed with her abilities at the time; however, when people talk about her present-day "potential" it seems lost because she is playing the same piece now as she was then.

I immediately empathized with the character. My writing seems dreadfully vapid now. My toes just barely test the waters of writing anymore, and I seem to have been reduced to a good copy editor (skills for which I don't technically get paid). I also see now that perhaps writing wasn't the path for me anyway.

I truly am smitten with the fitness world, and in particular, I am in love with the practice of yoga. That first class went well, and I am going back this weekend to teach again. Additionally, I was asked to take part in an extra-curricular program for 1st-5th graders this Spring in which they select after-school electives. Some of the little Girl Scouts I put in volunteer yoga time with asked for my class to be an option. I am honored and excited to share yoga with the little peeps.

These new ventures, along with both the acquisition of some amazing new friends as well as the remarkable endurance of existing friendships, are an invigorating start to 2009 that will hopefully bring me out of the darkness I fell into in 2008. I am eager to move forward, to forget about the things that I can not change, to dream of bigger, better things and to achieve them, to sincerely find and to know the joy that exists in me independent from all else.

So yeah..., just for fun here are a couple of high school Karen writings (both a bit o' the brooding and a bit o' that whimsy):

This is from the 1996 book:

Who will keep the human beat when we have all this money for bombs yet not enough to keep homeless off the street, while children live in boxes of their own discontent I want to be a cat, a dog, a mouse - then, maybe the world wouldn't be So insignificant.

This is from the 1997 book:

Staring at the back of a head my mind beings to draw a blank Turn the corner, and pass right by trudge on home and finally drawn to sleep So hard to resist the lure and bait of my dreams when lying on a pile of pillows beneath a weight of days that tend to drain Dream along the thoughts that rise while sleeping and fly perhaps for a time.

Sorry, this particular journal was almost completely lacking in the light and whimsical genre. Someday I might see what I can find in the garage. There is one that I wrote for our little "underground" newspaper that was all about growing up and would have been extremely a propos for this post, but alas I could not find it. Just be grateful you didn't get relationship-driven stuff from that time *rolls eyes*.

Upon, looking back at this one, I should have titled it "Dear Diary"...oh well.

I am wishing everyone the most beautiful day, night, week, month, year, etc.

Barackalypse vs. Bushwhacked: half a dozen of one, 6 of the other…

I am soooo tired of the anti-Obama “jokes”; it’s over people so I think you should get over it, but if you insist then I too, am having a bit of a rant.

I don't believe that "But Bush did it too!" is a valid defense of anything. I do, however, believe that it's a perfectly valid response to people whose perception of reality is completely skewed.

Look, I get that you don't like taxes. Personally, I’m not a huge fan of them either; I think they’re too high, but I also think spending is too high. I understand that you oppose many of Obama's proposals. I don’t agree with everything the guy says either so I can empathize to a certain extent; however, I am baffled that you could go through the past 8 years completely care-free, not the least bit worried about the exorbitant deficit spending and obscene expansion of state power going on until now. I suppose that contrary to what I said in my last blog, color does matter. There are some people that only seem to care if there’s a boot squashing a face if it comes in blue instead of red.

So yes, Bush cut your taxes. He did, however, raise the taxes that your children (someone’s children) will pay. In general people claim to care about children, and I’d go so far as to say that given the pro-life stance of the people I am referring to (not that I think there’s anything wrong with that) I’d think you should care about children a lot. Surely you must oppose any policy that basically guarantees that your kids will pay massive taxes to some Chinese creditors, yes?

A tiny recap on the things you either missed while blinking or that simply didn’t faze you enough to even solicit a blink. The Bush administration:

- Borrowed an obscene amount of money to start a war that will bite us and future generations in the ass. (Please note that I retain the utmost respect for members of the armed forces and am grateful for their service).
- Borrowed vast sums for insane domestic security policies.
- Openly instituted a policy of torture, detention without trial and warrantless surveillance.
- Consolidated federal power over public schools.
- Instituted a massive and expensive program of free pills for the elderly.
- Borrowed another ridiculous sum to bail out Wall Street.
- Acquired equity stakes in various banks, basically nationalizing a key industry, the sort of thing that would cause you to pack your bags and move to Argentina if Obama did it.

None of that scared you in the least. You even voted repeatedly for the party doing these things.

You're only scared NOW? Really? Does anyone else recall the Chicken Littleing of Newt Gingrinch in the early 90s? His nonsense is one of the first things I can really remember from the contemporary political sector (admittedly, it was his name that drew my attention). The man said there would be soup kitchen lines, and then we had the longest peacetime economic expansion in our history.

Yes, I am hopeful for a better future, but I am also a bit cynical on it all so that should give you haters hope. I'm predicting that many of Obama's proposals will come to naught, and we'll basically get the status quo that didn't cause you to so much as bat an eyelash anyway.

Oh, except that the bill for this status quo might be paid by you instead of by future voters. The change I wanted never came to fruition either; that’s life.

*sigh* I feel better now. I was just getting so irritated that I had to rant a bit.

Idiocracy: Cinematic suggestion for all, especially the boy w/the AuH20esque profile name

So Saturday night I sat next to a pregnant girl drinking Mountain Dew like it was about to be discontinued but could grant an easier labor and delivery if she sucked down enough it before it was gone. She was so busy spewing forth racist "jokes" and completely asinine "political" commentary I am surprised she was able to get three big glasses down; nevertheless she did. Wait...did I just judge her based on her beverage consumption? Oh, not really; it's just that it's a little difficult for me not to question your intelligence if you are sucking down Mountain Dew well into your pregnancy while you make insulting remarks toward a specific race or the future president...sorry.

Anyone that knows me even a little bit can tell you that I have zero tolerance for derogatory remarks with regard to a person's race, ethnicity, cultural practices, sexual-orientation, religion, class, etc. I am not going to travel off on some long tangent to that effect as I already did that once here. I am not going to claim that I am superior and free of any presuppositions of people, but I like to think that I try to separate myself from them as much as possible. Admittedly, the first thing that came to mind as I listened to this girl blathering racist nonsense was, "Fantastic; she is reproducing...the future of America is going to look like that." I know it's terrible to think that way, and I hope that it doesn't happen.

Unlike Dew's claims that most black people are the same (her ideas: lazy and jobless), I am going to believe that not all people of whatever her classification is are destined to be the same. While I think it's extremely difficult for a child spoon-fed racism that is chased down with Kool-Aid (insert other sugary beverage...Mountain Dew?) to come out of the household unscathed, free from those bigot-ridden thought processes, I don't think it's impossible. I have hope in the school systems, in the other adults that racist's baby will encounter, in the majority of our society that the child will grow up to be a more loving and accepting individual than his/her parent(s).

Anyway, the whole thing reminded me of a movie that was fairly entertaining so I offer you a clip mash-up here and suggest checking it out. I didn't mention it at the time because I was trying to be nice and not imply that Dew was an idiot directly to her face. I am sure that aside from the racism and bigotry that she is a lovely person and an otherwise good mama.

I don't expect rainbows and unicorns and 100% peace and love in the world, but I do expect people with any sort of education to know that you can not assume things based solely on a person's race, ethnicity, blah, blah, blah.

Anyway, it is time for me to get to work. Here's hoping for a smarter tomorrow, not one reminiscent of a scene from Idiocracy.

Ouch

Inhale: the pain can be no worse;
I sink into nothing but spirit.
I breathe the pain inside out,
the colors subside into gray.

Exhale: the pain will be worse still-there's no scale
of one to ten or one million-

Blah, blah, blah...I'm just sayin'. Decent day w/my boys and awesome Old 97s concert tonight but still hurting :-(

Hare I go, hare I go, hare I go again...

Sorry, you’ll see what prompted it in a second (you know beside my obvious love for Salt-N-Peppa since my Blacks’ Magic cassette circa ‘93).

It’s Columbus Day, an almost over Columbus Day, but I am just now getting around to posting. I thought maybe I’d get all tangential about the number of government employees that were comfortably lounging today while I sat utterly annoyed in my office and read more about our (insert sarcasm now) flourishing economy – how ‘bout that Dow today? – I know I’m convinced that all is well now! Then I thought: why bother? Why begrudge them their paid holiday? Am I not elated when Labor Day and Memorial Day roll round?

Instead I starting thinking about how when you’re in grade school you’re force-fed some historical nonsense as to why you will have Monday off just prior to being reminded that you should use that time wisely to work on whatever your big project is for the semester. With Columbus Day, in particular (yes, my Catholic grade school was closed), I can recall a cheesy Bugs Bunny cartoon (that I probably saw 10+ times thanks to my paternal grandfather’s love of Bugs) helping to form some of my ideas on Christopher Columbus’ historic role. Of course, the older I got, the less credence I gave to cartoons as historic references (wink), but just for the sake of discussion I think it’s a bit crazy that I ever allowed it into my psyche at all. That’s what we do though right? Form a popular consciousness with regard to historical events via a pervasive cultural layer that's been added like that of Bugs and Chris?

The cartoon delivers that same ol’ story of Chris attempting rather unsuccessfully to convince potential financiers of his voyage that the world is round, etc. Historians know very well that in addition to a majority of well-traveled sailors, most educated people in early modern Europe were perfectly aware that the world was not flat. If anything, Columbus was kind of deluded, just not about the shape of the world, but its size. He thought it was much smaller than it actually was.

When you ask why people have heard otherwise, you can’t really zero in on any single text or source that is responsible for creating an alternative folk knowledge about Columbus and medieval European knowledge. Even when you can find a source like that housed within a Looney Tunes there’s often so much whimsy or simplicity, something intended for children, that is maybe infused with a sense of reference to common sense knowledge about past events, are we really getting anything historically accurate? It’s not that the cartoon teaches you about Columbus, or even that it purports to; it’s more like it’s human capability at work. Together we strive, whether consciously or sub-consciously to innovate, to accumulate and to diffuse culture. While there is of course, always going to be someone trying to write and teach history to his/her advantage or protection (see Lies My Teacher Told Me for some examples), there are also cases like that of Bugs; there’s no malicious agenda in the cartoon to rewrite history, at least I don’t think.

Crap! I'm not going to do it, but the whole thought processes for tonight have ended me at memetics...ugh, another time perhaps. I am tired and extend my apologies for messy though without any fun or informative hyperlinks; what can I say?...I suck tonight. Only blogging to distract myself from familial drama.

Just coming up for air

I have been a naughty blogger and promise to try to whip something thoughtful up this week. Debate was entertaining, yes? Anyway...

You contained me in your universe,
fed me, educated me, bedded me in slippery

sheets, removed my blankets as I slept.
I needed not to leave you except to star gaze.

You were red, and crushed apples along
a stream frozen save for bursting rocks.

Stealing me away from I, we spoke,
listened, lingered over other.

A pearl is round and smooth and lustrous,
Yet your floors slant and porously grit.

You slam doors and disturb dreams,
enter without knocking, give me no key to lock

Your slide-shows warmed the cold church,
And articulated metaphor, design, and thought.