May 10...last time I tapped away on the keyboard in this little box. I knew there was something missing in my life. Other devices and options are jockeying for my attention, but writing, like the freckles on my nose will never fade. Sad that I find it difficult to find room to share a sentence or two with the blogosphere.
So here it is...
Life is life. It's hotter than hell here in Pennsylvania. The air moving slower than a fat man on a tricycle. I'm taking numerous classes to keep me more marketable and my mind sharp. I have a personal trainer who is helping me get healthier and kick my butt. And with each drop of sweat that streaks down my face I think, what the hell did I get myself into, and afterwards I think, not such a bad idea.
While I don't write daily, I do have numerous ideas for stories that I write down in my little notebook, and there they sit, like a dented can of string beans on the discount rack, waiting, hoping someone will pay them some mind. Maybe one of these days, I will do what all the writers and writer's guides say... JUST WRITE! It's not bad advice. Stop overthinking it and just write it.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Feeling fruity
You know... Strawberry season will soon be ripe here in the mid-atlantic region. I can't wait for spring/summer fruits and veggies. There's something so right about a large, luscious, red, ripe strawberry that just bursts with flavor.
That's it...just wanted to express my excitement for one of the simpler things in life - I look forward to strawberry season every year! And then...it's peach season. Life doesn't get better than summer fruit.
That's it...just wanted to express my excitement for one of the simpler things in life - I look forward to strawberry season every year! And then...it's peach season. Life doesn't get better than summer fruit.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Cause you gotta have faith?
Who are we and what are we intended to know anyway? Why are we here? Recently, I've been seeing signs, and bumper stickers, and people who completely cover their vehicles in these graphic wraps informing us that the end of the world is coming on May 21, 2011. Is it the end of the world as we know it? Or will the world actually end and we won't be around. Perhaps I should hold off making those Memorial Day weekend reservations.
How are these people privy to such information. If this was such a monumental event, I would expect that Homeland Security or some other government agency be warning us right now. The people who hold dearly to these 'predictions', how can they have such faith in this information. Perhaps I am just a skeptic at heart - with some things, anyway- I question the amount of water or oil I am supposed to use in a box cake mix, and always overcompensate for fear of lack of moistness, because nothing is as terrible as a dry cupcake. When someone says the check is in the mail - I don't fully trust them until it clears my account. So, if I don't have faith in what Betty Crocker has been perfecting for decades - how can people have such faith that the world will end on May 21 or other claims that require some sort of divine miracle or act of "God". Is it really all about faith or does the saying, "ignorance is bliss" hold sway? I'm not trying to disrespect anyone for their beliefs - I have numerous beliefs and habits that I conduct religiously, but do not prescribe to any one path. Just trying to work this out in my head and in my heart.
And, for fun...I think Google is as close to the divine as we are getting these days. Think about it -you can pretty much get an answer from Google on any topic: inspiration, answers to your deepest, darkest questions and desires, whatever ails you, scares you, and everything in between. I have faith that when I turn to Google I am going to get a response that will help my current situation. Amen, Google.
Now that I got some of the ridiculous out of my system, if the world is going to end on May 21, 2011 - I wish you all the best wherever we will be on May 22.
How are these people privy to such information. If this was such a monumental event, I would expect that Homeland Security or some other government agency be warning us right now. The people who hold dearly to these 'predictions', how can they have such faith in this information. Perhaps I am just a skeptic at heart - with some things, anyway- I question the amount of water or oil I am supposed to use in a box cake mix, and always overcompensate for fear of lack of moistness, because nothing is as terrible as a dry cupcake. When someone says the check is in the mail - I don't fully trust them until it clears my account. So, if I don't have faith in what Betty Crocker has been perfecting for decades - how can people have such faith that the world will end on May 21 or other claims that require some sort of divine miracle or act of "God". Is it really all about faith or does the saying, "ignorance is bliss" hold sway? I'm not trying to disrespect anyone for their beliefs - I have numerous beliefs and habits that I conduct religiously, but do not prescribe to any one path. Just trying to work this out in my head and in my heart.
And, for fun...I think Google is as close to the divine as we are getting these days. Think about it -you can pretty much get an answer from Google on any topic: inspiration, answers to your deepest, darkest questions and desires, whatever ails you, scares you, and everything in between. I have faith that when I turn to Google I am going to get a response that will help my current situation. Amen, Google.
Now that I got some of the ridiculous out of my system, if the world is going to end on May 21, 2011 - I wish you all the best wherever we will be on May 22.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Is technology showing our real age?
It is me or...if you don't have a smart phone - you're phucked. How will you face the world without Facebook? How will you identify yourself without an iPhone or an iPad? I must admit they are sexy, fun little toys, but we are all developing the "21st century stare." Here's the picture: electronic device in hand, head slightly askew, as to be in a reasonably comfortable position and navigate the hand held device of your choice. Now walk or drive or stare at it while you're in a conversation with other people. Maybe you will trip, fall into a fountain, walk into a parked car or piss off your friend, husband or wife as you ignore them and read the latest status update on Facebook that appears to be more interesting than the current conversation or company. I swear...with all the keying we do on our phones, we are going to evolve our digits (fingers) into paddles for thumbs and our other fingers will be pointed tips like some sort of stylus!
Technology is allowing us to witness this incredible sociological experiment --the evolution or decline of our culture-- you decide which it is, and I will observe the specimens at play.
I know there have been many others before me who have pontificated on this point and talked it to death, but as technology offerings become more affordable, they become more widespread - will we see a breakdown in real human interactions? Or am I just being nostalgic for meeting a friend in a cafe over drinks or lunch to talk about their latest status updates or seeing their pictures from a trip, which they could show me via their Facebook or Shutterfly photo album. It just makes me wonder if this explosion of social networking will implode and we will actually see a decline in human interactions - will we evolve or devolve back to grunting and drawing etchings of early mammals on cave walls? Perhaps it is my love of conversation and for the written word that causes me concern, as acronyms and emoticons replace verse and prose.
I guess it was this way with every cultural revolution. You had the resilience and brilliance of youth bring about the needed change -- the early adapters. Then there are those who wait around for a later version - so the bugs could be worked out or there was enough empirical evidence to believe in the cultural changes, and then you had those who wouldn't budge. I believe that the only thing that changes is change. And if you aren't willing to be resilient, and at least humor life, you'll get old--- real quick! Because if you don't update statuses or text or find some other technologically driven device to connect with others - you'll be left in an analog, clam-shell phone world. And the likes of big business will price you out of the market and give you no other choice than to upgrade or return to the likes of a TV with an antenna. How bad could it be to return to antenna TV? That's what many of us grew up with. Toy with the notion for awhile - it creates an inner conflict - an almost longing to say, "screw this, I could totally give up technology and revert to the ways of ancient man living in the 1970's <sarcasm implied>." or does one just drink from the chalice, and join the religious ranks, who can be found bowing and curtseying to the almighty Apple gods.
Technology is allowing us to witness this incredible sociological experiment --the evolution or decline of our culture-- you decide which it is, and I will observe the specimens at play.
I know there have been many others before me who have pontificated on this point and talked it to death, but as technology offerings become more affordable, they become more widespread - will we see a breakdown in real human interactions? Or am I just being nostalgic for meeting a friend in a cafe over drinks or lunch to talk about their latest status updates or seeing their pictures from a trip, which they could show me via their Facebook or Shutterfly photo album. It just makes me wonder if this explosion of social networking will implode and we will actually see a decline in human interactions - will we evolve or devolve back to grunting and drawing etchings of early mammals on cave walls? Perhaps it is my love of conversation and for the written word that causes me concern, as acronyms and emoticons replace verse and prose.
I guess it was this way with every cultural revolution. You had the resilience and brilliance of youth bring about the needed change -- the early adapters. Then there are those who wait around for a later version - so the bugs could be worked out or there was enough empirical evidence to believe in the cultural changes, and then you had those who wouldn't budge. I believe that the only thing that changes is change. And if you aren't willing to be resilient, and at least humor life, you'll get old--- real quick! Because if you don't update statuses or text or find some other technologically driven device to connect with others - you'll be left in an analog, clam-shell phone world. And the likes of big business will price you out of the market and give you no other choice than to upgrade or return to the likes of a TV with an antenna. How bad could it be to return to antenna TV? That's what many of us grew up with. Toy with the notion for awhile - it creates an inner conflict - an almost longing to say, "screw this, I could totally give up technology and revert to the ways of ancient man living in the 1970's <sarcasm implied>." or does one just drink from the chalice, and join the religious ranks, who can be found bowing and curtseying to the almighty Apple gods.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Is it okay just to accept bad behavior?
Warning: Emotional Rant is about to ensue.
Is it me or does it seem that these days to be perceived as a person of substance you need to be rude, a drug addict, an idiot, or say you are warlock teaming with Tiger's Blood?
Each day we are exposed to some or all of the above mentioned - at work, TV (TMZ is not allowed in my house), radio, print, Facebook, wherever, and it feels like we have to honor these people with our attention because it is what dominates our culture. Possible solution - shut yourself off from the free world. Hide away in a cabin, in the woods of a remote part of Maine, Canada, perhaps a cozy jungle bungalow. While lovely for a stretch of time, I don't think I could handle that much solitude.
While they may not be representative of a larger portion of the population - these, for the lack of a better term, emotional vampires require so much attention that they suck up precious time with their antics. It's like that snot-nosed, annoying kid who ran around in your kindergarten class spitting and punching girls, who took up most of the teacher's time to get under control, and by the time she/he did - bamm...it was snack time, then nap time, and then time to get on the bus. In 1977 it was half day kindergarten. So, not much real learning was acquired.
I can think of a few people, from kindergarten and throughout my life - including present time, that are "rewarded" for their bad behavior with attention or whatever else they require, it perpetuates a cycle of selfishness and the rest must suffer the slings and arrows of their outrageous behavior. What to do? Ignore it. It's hard when you must work with or are related to or required to socialize at some levels. Chalk it up as...well, we all have egos and some rear their heads differently than others. Call them on it. If someone is behaving like a jack ass or a school yard bully...call them out on the carpet, as I would expect the same if I were behaving poorly.
Is it me or does it seem that these days to be perceived as a person of substance you need to be rude, a drug addict, an idiot, or say you are warlock teaming with Tiger's Blood?
Each day we are exposed to some or all of the above mentioned - at work, TV (TMZ is not allowed in my house), radio, print, Facebook, wherever, and it feels like we have to honor these people with our attention because it is what dominates our culture. Possible solution - shut yourself off from the free world. Hide away in a cabin, in the woods of a remote part of Maine, Canada, perhaps a cozy jungle bungalow. While lovely for a stretch of time, I don't think I could handle that much solitude.
While they may not be representative of a larger portion of the population - these, for the lack of a better term, emotional vampires require so much attention that they suck up precious time with their antics. It's like that snot-nosed, annoying kid who ran around in your kindergarten class spitting and punching girls, who took up most of the teacher's time to get under control, and by the time she/he did - bamm...it was snack time, then nap time, and then time to get on the bus. In 1977 it was half day kindergarten. So, not much real learning was acquired.
I can think of a few people, from kindergarten and throughout my life - including present time, that are "rewarded" for their bad behavior with attention or whatever else they require, it perpetuates a cycle of selfishness and the rest must suffer the slings and arrows of their outrageous behavior. What to do? Ignore it. It's hard when you must work with or are related to or required to socialize at some levels. Chalk it up as...well, we all have egos and some rear their heads differently than others. Call them on it. If someone is behaving like a jack ass or a school yard bully...call them out on the carpet, as I would expect the same if I were behaving poorly.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Are you capable of being honest with yourself?
So I had this epiphany today - how honest are you with people? how honest are you with yourself? come on now...it's me you're talking to. I realized that while I feel I give full disclosure there are just some things we embellish - I perpetrate and have been perpetrated upon. I'll disclose some of the light and airy ones....
1. I'm not as smart as I would like to be or think I am- Sometimes it's about faking it until you make it. I'm logical/practical and can be downright creative. People tell me I'm nice and I have a great smile - or is this all a lie? Or am I so smart I am just lying to myself and I believe it. Who knows. I'm no Descartes, but there could be some kind of Evil Genius at work here - not implying I am either evil or genius.
2. People say I write very well or are they just saying that to be nice, or is it some game. Do they mean my creative writing, or my public school penmanship? Would someone just tell the truth?!
3. At one clothing store I wear a size 14 at another a 12. Why are they messing with me? Just tell it to me straight so I can consistently purchase the proper attire. To hell with it...I'll just buy a stretchy velour jump suit.
4. I'm not happy all the time - really I"m not - not every waking moment of the day. People say I'm perky (i like to laugh alot even if it is uncalled for and inappropriate at times) and that I am emotionally mature - I say splat to that. I'm complex in here, but I was raised by one hell of a poker face- my Mom. She's fabulous, but she will put on a smile as to not rock any boat. I wanna rock the boat sometimes.
5. Finally, I don't like Facebook. There I said it. I have maintained an account to keep up appearances only. Honestly, I am just not that interesting and frankly, i don't care that you just took a picture of the hamburger you ordered at Ruby Tuesday's. Really....read my previous posts and you will see that I am just some random woman who is trying to keep it real until I win the lottery.
There, I've been honest- with you, with myself. I can go on with life. And here are some more thoughts on reality...
1. I'm not as smart as I would like to be or think I am- Sometimes it's about faking it until you make it. I'm logical/practical and can be downright creative. People tell me I'm nice and I have a great smile - or is this all a lie? Or am I so smart I am just lying to myself and I believe it. Who knows. I'm no Descartes, but there could be some kind of Evil Genius at work here - not implying I am either evil or genius.
2. People say I write very well or are they just saying that to be nice, or is it some game. Do they mean my creative writing, or my public school penmanship? Would someone just tell the truth?!
3. At one clothing store I wear a size 14 at another a 12. Why are they messing with me? Just tell it to me straight so I can consistently purchase the proper attire. To hell with it...I'll just buy a stretchy velour jump suit.
4. I'm not happy all the time - really I"m not - not every waking moment of the day. People say I'm perky (i like to laugh alot even if it is uncalled for and inappropriate at times) and that I am emotionally mature - I say splat to that. I'm complex in here, but I was raised by one hell of a poker face- my Mom. She's fabulous, but she will put on a smile as to not rock any boat. I wanna rock the boat sometimes.
5. Finally, I don't like Facebook. There I said it. I have maintained an account to keep up appearances only. Honestly, I am just not that interesting and frankly, i don't care that you just took a picture of the hamburger you ordered at Ruby Tuesday's. Really....read my previous posts and you will see that I am just some random woman who is trying to keep it real until I win the lottery.
There, I've been honest- with you, with myself. I can go on with life. And here are some more thoughts on reality...
Awakening
By Stephanie
By Stephanie
A silence that is spoken with gentle eyes
Cries for days
Then gather animals by two’s to shuffle aboard your personal Ark
Built with toothpicks and stained popsicle sticks
Prepare for the journey, leather bound book and rosary in hand
Refill the pool believing your spiritual life boat offers the strength to glide upon the water
Removing the inflatable rings, you put on your life preserver and dive in full force
Choking on years of forced religion and parental philosophies that weigh you down
The life preserver floats to the top
You stay to fight for your inner truth
The senses have become one
You stop struggling and realize your mortality and
Float instantaneously to the surface where you are greeted by the pool guy.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Like Sheryl Crow says, "If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad!"
It's been a month since I've last been here. I've been running on the hamster wheel - work, sleep, work, sleep, and in between, there are bouts of smiles, temporary insanity, promises to myself to indulge more in the things that truly make me happy - writing (why I'm back here- even though this seems more like venting), nature, and.... uh, and.... uh. What the hell is it that makes me happy? I thought about this today after reading an article in Yoga Journal Magazine - commercial, yet stimulating at a certain level - I like the mind expansion and the practice that is Yoga - I digress, more on that subject for another post.
I'm not really sure what makes me happy. Damn it, and just when life was on cruise control and I felt like Jack Nicholson in "...Cuckoo's Nest" Nurse Ratchet, one lobotomy, please. I was letting the job numb the brain and just running, running on that little plastic wheel in this cage, all that is missing are the wood chips-- oddly enough, I just wrote down today to buy mulch for the front flower bed - and even more ridiculously ironic - I just bought a new water bottle. What's next? Hamster food pellets? I won't go that far. I'm really rambling here, but it's liberating.
So...I had an 80's flashback -- a bit of a childhood regression and a reminder from the evening news that this week is opening season for baseball. It made me think of the days when I felt free- running around barefoot, playing sports, walking through creeks and finding cool things like old bottles, crawfish, and frogs that I would bring back to live in my kiddie pool. Those were times of happiness even though there was occassional hardships - a financially struggling family - I was a pretty happy kid and lived to play baseball and stickball with my friends and my brothers - especially my brother John. My brother John and I were very close when we were kids- we did everything together and I believe he is the one who gave me the resolve I have today - to constantly challenge myself even when I think I can't go another step - I am reminded of catching flyballs at 9 oclock at night with nothing but the street lamp and fireflies to light their trajectory - I developed excellent hand-eye coordination and night vision!
I miss those nights, but life evolves and sometimes you have to jump off the hamster wheel - even if it is doing 80MPH to regain your perspective and discover what truly makes you happy - even if it is only for 10 minutes, a day, a week, or a lifetime.
A reflection on how life changes effect even the closest of relationships.
I'm not really sure what makes me happy. Damn it, and just when life was on cruise control and I felt like Jack Nicholson in "...Cuckoo's Nest" Nurse Ratchet, one lobotomy, please. I was letting the job numb the brain and just running, running on that little plastic wheel in this cage, all that is missing are the wood chips-- oddly enough, I just wrote down today to buy mulch for the front flower bed - and even more ridiculously ironic - I just bought a new water bottle. What's next? Hamster food pellets? I won't go that far. I'm really rambling here, but it's liberating.
So...I had an 80's flashback -- a bit of a childhood regression and a reminder from the evening news that this week is opening season for baseball. It made me think of the days when I felt free- running around barefoot, playing sports, walking through creeks and finding cool things like old bottles, crawfish, and frogs that I would bring back to live in my kiddie pool. Those were times of happiness even though there was occassional hardships - a financially struggling family - I was a pretty happy kid and lived to play baseball and stickball with my friends and my brothers - especially my brother John. My brother John and I were very close when we were kids- we did everything together and I believe he is the one who gave me the resolve I have today - to constantly challenge myself even when I think I can't go another step - I am reminded of catching flyballs at 9 oclock at night with nothing but the street lamp and fireflies to light their trajectory - I developed excellent hand-eye coordination and night vision!
I miss those nights, but life evolves and sometimes you have to jump off the hamster wheel - even if it is doing 80MPH to regain your perspective and discover what truly makes you happy - even if it is only for 10 minutes, a day, a week, or a lifetime.
A reflection on how life changes effect even the closest of relationships.
Past Times
By Stephanie
Even though we’re related
People would never guess it.
Maybe it’s because you look like Grandpop and
I look like Grandmom.
Your brown eyes and blonde hair to my green eyes and brown hair
But that didn’t matter. We are blood.
Since I could crawl to your walk
I was your shadow
And you taught me how to throw, catch and hit a baseball.
I was the only girl who could hit the ball over the fence.
My brother, perhaps you beamed with pride in your mind
“That’s my little sister.”
Which makes these play-by-plays that much harder
Because now that we are older and no longer run home together,
I can’t quite remember when we drifted apart
Perhaps it was after that last over-the-fence homerun
The summer before you went into 9th grade
The last time we would walk to 7-11 for Slurpees
After the big game.
I wasn’t ready for the change up that took place.
It was more like a fast ball right down the middle
The hormones stole you over night.
You traded your baseball card collecting
For an obsession of washing your face and combing your hair.
You devoted your time to other girls and
You didn’t have time to teach me anything,
Not even how to bat left handed
Like you promised.
You picked up your date for the dance
I stayed home to braid Barbie’s hair.
We lived in the same house, played on different teams.
While I was fast asleep and dreaming of
My Little Ponies prancing by a clear blue stream.
You would be getting home from your dates,
Filled with fantastic stories of drag racing Mustangs,
Your lips flushed cherry red with kisses from big haired girls.
You in high school, me in elementary school, we were leagues apart.
My stories about Mrs Hanson teaching long division,
Brad Smith teasing me about the gap between my front teeth
They couldn’t hold a flame to your struggles with
Finding the square root of anything and keeping a clear complexion.
And now, all I have are memories…
One more at bat before dinner,
The final game of catch under the dim lamp-post at 403 Willard
All fading…
Like the leather of the baseball gloves that live in solitude
In the musty corner of Mom and Dad’s basement
They, too, long for us to play the game once again.
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