HeartBeat

My Third Eye

2007-06-25T19:40:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I catch a glimpse.

photo by: LL

Stirring the Crazy

2007-06-14T22:33:00.000-04:00

My brain is melting.

I can tell because my eyes are always red. It's not drug-induced, but I'm beginning to wish is was.

I've managed to think myself into a conundrum.

It was all so obvious at the time. I was working somewhere I didn't want to work, thinking about what I would find valuable in an employer. I came up with some pretty straight forward ideas and I even had the courage to believe that these ideas meant enough for me to pursue. I wanted to do something I would be proud of that has to do with people and fulfills a void of some kind within the realm of humanity. I guess that means I wanted to work for a nonprofit. I also wanted a working environment that consists predominantly of women. The lucky bonus would be a job that fulfilled all aforementioned requirements, but would simultaneously provide intellectual stimulation both professionally and personally.

Well, I got what I wished for, of course. But, like most things in life, it's not quite what I envisioned. My current job meets all my premeditated requirements including the bonus feature, but I'm surrounded by inefficiency, premenstral dispositions every day of every month, and no one who understands what my job consists of because I know how to use a shitload of computer software and apparently, no one else in the agency has any idea what that means.

But it's OK.

I'm always up for a challenge.

photo by: LL

What it Means to be 'Happy'

2007-05-30T23:48:00.000-04:00

Is it a decision?

Is that the point?

You decide and that's it?

When I was in college, I had a few "profound" moments. One of which was the idea that no matter what happens you can always "hang out"—the beauty is that it always applies. . . unless, you don't have the time. In college, I knew I could skip class and still graduate. In life, I know I can't skip work—not until I live to see the day I don't need a paycheck.

F*ck! I'm supposed to be "deciding" to be happy and I got side-tracked again.

I have to go to bed.

photo by: LL

Turned Around

2007-05-19T09:04:00.001-04:00

I've been thinking . . . and thinking . . . and thinking . . . and I realized I'm tired of wondering, pondering, daydreaming and hypothesizing.

But I can't stop. I'm addicted.

As much as I think about how much I would benefit from not thinking, I can't help fantasizing. I wonder what it would be like to have a garden and cook dinner with the fruits of my labor. I wonder what it would be like to be paid lot of money for my personal insight. I wonder what it would be like if I were an architect or an auto mechanic. Better still, I wonder what it would be like to race pickup trucks.

Of course, I still wonder what it would be like to pursue my youthful dream of being a chik (notice this is not the same spelling as the term for a young chicken) drummer. I'd be Ms.-drunk-a-lot, and I'd have lots of memerable conversations I couldn't recall. I guess dreams change over time. Or perhaps I realized my dream didn't turn out exactly how I planned, and I learned to choose a different dream.

But I like to think that my dream found me. I like to think that all that is was meant to be. Maybe that's apathetic, but maybe it's exactly that kind of thinking that keeps me feeling youthful. The only thing I know for sure is that I haven't decided. I'm not in any hurry. I could ponder this until the day I meet my urn.

And no, that's not morbid—it's realistic.

photo by: LL

I Didn't Get the Memo

2007-05-04T21:41:00.000-04:00

Maybe it's just me, but sometimes I feel like everyone knows something I don't.

Where have I been? Or more importantly, is there an underlying message I'm not understanding? Moments of complete understanding are quickly brushed out of the way to reveal moments of ultimate uncer-taint-y.

Speaking of 'taint,' I'm finding myself spending time finding the definition online: "[The word] taint. . .has no basis in medical terminology and is most often considered lewd and mildly obscene." - answers.com

I love it. It's not just a part of the body. It's a "lewd" part of the body.

Getting back to the point, I periodically forget that everyone's really in it for themselves. I guess I should clairify. I actually believe that everyone should be in it for themselves; however, the application of this notion in reality is completely different from my concept of the application. I've got this strange idea in my head that we have the capability to be in it for ourselves in a way that mutually benefits everyone. Why are we constantly looking for something to fight about? We humans are all comprised of the same genus species—why haven't we tried working together?

I guess I didn't get the memo.

photo by: LL

Trigger Finger

2006-11-12T21:33:00.000-05:00

Well... it finally happened.
I pulled the trigger and fired
a bullet out of a gun.

Part of me has always been curious. Recently, my huzby started hunting, and this weekend he brought me along. But it all started years ago, when I lived in Oregon. Someone I worked with asked me if I'd be interested in buying a gun, for protection. I don't think I ever told anyone, but I said "yes." He brought it into work one day for me to see it and hold it. I'll never forget holding it. But I realized I didn't need it. It was a little extreme. When I first met my husband, he liked fishing. "I could never kill Bambi," he said. I could tell he meant it.

Three and a half years later, he attended a hunting club dinner with the guys he works with and out of 550 attendees he won the only prize that night. A rifle. He came home with it almost as shocked as I was. We suddenly shared a home with a gun.

We got satellite radio for Christmas last year, and we've been listening to Country music ever since. Huzby bought me a pink cowgirl hat from a bluegrass festival, and I actually reached a point when every kind of music except Country was irritating for me to listen to; I couldn't believe it. What's more, I have this persistent urge to play drums in a rockin' Country music band.

Last month I went to Texas for a business trip and came back to New York with genuine cowgirl boots. I'm talking tassels, folks. What's happening to me?

I remain completely disinterested in shooting animals. That's just not for me. Shooting a target and a flying clay disc, that's just it's very own kind of fun. I'm glad I did it. And there's an extremely good chance I'll do it again.

photo by: LL

Findings

2006-11-09T22:19:00.000-05:00

I'm 31 years old now.
I've lived. I've dreamed.

Maybe things didn't turn out how I expected. Maybe I didn't know what to expect. Maybe I'm counting my blessings and maybe I'm wondering endlessly about scenarios that never were. Maybe I'm too young to be thinking so retrospectively, and maybe I'm trying desperately to justify saying 'goodbye' to the days I will never re-live.

A long time ago I made up my mind to never regret my life. Why? It's simple. At every given moment in time, every person is making the decision s/he feels is 'right' at the time. The drug addict chooses to snort it or shoot it or smoke it every time... just like the scholar chooses to study it or apply it or read it or write it every time. Is one better than the other? It's your life. You don't live it for anyone else... unless you choose to.

photo by: LL

Creatures of Habit

2006-10-03T23:36:00.000-04:00

Are we?

Is it best to avoid "habit" or is there a "good" version and a "bad" version?

There are people in the world who wake up at 5:45 a.m. and go running, shower, get dressed and cook breakfast before they get in their cars and go to work. There are more people in the world who wake up at 5:45 a.m. and confirm they are still alive before they think about what they will do today to survive.

Who are we? I guess we're comprised of things we like and things we don't like.
"Liking" something has good connotations, so why wouldn't we do what we like over and over? But what if we didn't have a choice? And there it is. You are a creature of habit. With multiple interests and multiple habits, time will pass you by while you're trying to "fix" the inconsistencies.

It's important to remember that your interests won't have a tendency to align and compliment each other. Let's take me for example. I like having a glass of wine before going to bed. I like sleeping in. I like waking up without a headache. I like being efficient. I like making money.

Let's take a closer look. I like having a glass of wine... I like having another glass of wine... you see where this habit is leading. I like pressing the snooze button until the alarm stops going off. I like sleeping until 11:00 a.m. or whenever the hell I wake up. I hate waking up with a hangover. I like sleeping in so much, I don't care if I skip the jogging, the shower and the breakfast and show up late to work looking frumpy because I like making money, and if I don't show up, I don't make money.

This will keep my conflict of interests occupied until I retire. Dammit. It feels like I was young about two weeks ago - young with dreams and confidence, ready to apply my talent. Here I am. Ten years later.

There needs to be a work revolution. Get a job. Do it. When you want. Forty hours a week. Same rules. Different game.

no photo

Evaluation

2006-08-04T00:28:00.000-04:00

What portion of your soul do you
sell to make money?

Maybe there's an acceptable percentage range that qualifies as an "appropriate" portion of the soul which is sacrificed for the purpose of human sustainability. The obvious question becomes "what is an 'appropriate' level of sustainability?" Being able to "afford" to have children - including raising them, feeding them, clothing them, and educating them so they will be able to learn what portion of their souls they will sacrifice in order to sustain themselves... and their families? What the f*ck? Suddenly we're adults and our level of "sustainability" directly determines our level of "success." We grow up quickly and learn we cannot possibly plan for retirement early enough. F*ck.

Here's the tangent you'll never see coming: IF YOU RIDE A BICYCLE IN NEW YORK CITY, AND YOU HAVE ANGER ISSUES, PLEASE DON'T TAKE OUT YOUR FRUSTRATIONS ON PEDESTRIANS, MOTORIZED VEHICLES, OR THE RULES AND REGULATIONS ESTABLISHED FOR PUBLIC ROADWAYS (e.g. don't run through a red light on a one-way street going the WRONG WAY.)

IF YOU RIDE A BICYCLE IN NEW YORK CITY AND YOU DON'T HAVE ANGER ISSUES (YET) IT'S PROBABLY BECAUSE YOU'RE RIDING YOUR BICYCLE ON THE SIDEWALK. Maybe you never learned bike-riding rule #1: Don't ride your bike on the sidewalk.

I don't ride a bicycle. I'm too chicken to ride on the street, I will never ride on the sidewalk, and I love driving. Love it. The only thing I know about people who ride bikes it what I see on city streets and what I see on t.v. These people are angry. They're busy saving the world by emitting zero environmental pollutants and getting exercise. But this big responsibility doesn't come easy. They are constantly dealing with cars, trucks and people who get in their way or hit them while they're riding their bikes the wrong way down a one-way street.

Today I was riding the bus to work and I saw a gentleman in his late 50's standing outside of his parked car on the driver's side (he had just finished parking on the right side of the street, and his car door was closed.) Traffic was stopped at a red light, and an asshole on a bike who was traveling much too fast for the traffic situation stuck his hand out and deliberately clipped the gentleman on back of his neck.

I can't take it anymore. People on bikes get a bad wrap in my book. Go ride your bike on a bike path and quit bitching about cars being on streets. At the very least, stay off Riverside Drive during afternoon rush hour.

photo by: LL

The Art of 'Judging the Book'

2006-06-20T22:48:00.000-04:00

The truth be told, before it's said.

Supposedly, 'you can't judge a book by its cover', but there's also 'an exception to every rule'. The little things people say to fill the silence can be very revealing. I'm listening, and I'm learning that my 'judgments' are spot on. I would like to take a moment to clarify that the actual definition of the word 'judgment' has no negative connotations, but somehow it's managed to elude a positive reputation in the verbal and written forms of English.

Essentially, everyone has an opinion about a first impression. It's impossible to not have a thought about an initial experience or interaction. Even if you don't remember one way or the other, that says something about the impression you were left with from the experience.

So go ahead. Think something. Say something. Form an opinion. Communicate. Judge a book by its cover. See where it takes you. Just remember, timing is everything. Choose your moments wisely.

photo by: LL

Maybe Someday

2006-05-14T23:46:00.000-04:00

I met a woman today.
Her close friend is dying of cancer.
He's 44 years old and he has anywhere
from a few days to a few months to live.

She asked him if he wished he'd done anything differently. He did. He wished he did more to help people and he wished he played a musical instrument.

A few words of wisdom from my father come to mind: Better to regret the things you did than regret the things you didn't. Perhaps I'm wondering when it's appropriate to 'regret' one way or the other. Perhaps I'm looking into the phrase too much.

Everything I've ever done has made me who I am today. How can I regret any part of myself? Of course I have a few memories I don't care to revisit, but who doesn't feel that way about some experiences? Isn't that what life is? A set of experiences. Whether it's a shorter version or a longer version, it's still a set.

The woman I met today said something else that I'm still thinking about. She mentioned a friend of her's whose daughter was permanently brain damaged at birth. She also mentioned that she's left some money, for her friend, in her will to pay for some of the expenses it takes to care for the daughter. There was an afterthought, and I'm not sure she would even remember saying it out loud, but I heard her. She said, "It's better than giving it to one of those not-for-profits where it would go straight to someone's very high salary."

It hit home. I work at a not-for-profit, helping people, and I've learned a select few have an exceptionally higher salary than the rest of us. I play a musical instrument, the drums - but not nearly as often as I'd like. If I were told I had between a few days and a few months to live, what would I regret?

photo by: my husband

An Imposition

2006-04-29T19:41:00.000-04:00

For some reason I opened the door. It wasn't even my house. I was dogsitting at my friend's apartment & I answered the doorbell. Maybe it was because I was unable to pretend I wasn't there. I knew immediately where the conversation was going when I first laid eyes on the two women. One white, one black, both middle-aged (whatever that means) and both well-dressed with short, 'stylish' haircuts.

"We're doing volunteer work and we're just going around asking people in the neighborhood if they'd like to see peace on earth. Would you like to see peace on earth, Ma'am?"

I hesitated and finally decided on, "Sure."

"Do you feel that peace on earth is actually attainable in this day and age?"

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see won't we?"

"Do you read the bible because...," I could have sworn her hands we empty when I opened the door, but suddenly she was flipping through her bible to a marked page.

"I'm not interested right now, have a good night."

"Actually, I'd just like to read you a passage from..."

"Have a good night," I repeated as though she didn't hear me the first time. I shut the door.

By the time I walked back up the stairs to the second-floor apartment it occurred to me that if people stopped imposing their beliefs on other people, the world would be a much more peaceful place.

Wine-Induced

2006-04-24T23:51:00.000-04:00

If the 'blog' is neglected,
is the 'self' neglected?

Hardly. I earn a solid low version of a five figure salary and these past two weeks have been a carnival of vacation-flavored slothness unlike anything I've ever tasted. Scuffing around wanting to do anything but clean my apartment while trapped in my abode due to the fact that I rear-ended someone within the first few hours of my vacation. The money I was going to spend on vacation bliss is now very well spent to repair someone else's pick-up truck that I unintentionally love-tapped. F*ck!

The very first two-week vacation of my lifetime career of having a career was sideswiped by my own personal desire to feel sorry for myself. Selfish? Maybe. Satisfying in some weird sick way? Yes. I was left with only two options: build a time machine or pay for damages. I quickly realized a time machine cannot be built in two weeks. So I've decided to thank my lucky stars that the man I rear-ended didn't experience debilitating neck injuries.

Back to work today for the first time in two weeks. The vacation expired, only too soon. And here I am... feeling the need to post for the first time in weeks. Coincidence? Perhaps. Fate? Most likely.

Would it be too obvious if I made the correlation between 'blogging' and spending most of the days of my life working for someone else's modest six-figure salary?

photo by: LL

A Non-Picture Post

2006-03-30T22:00:00.000-05:00

It's been a little while since my last post. I've been working, taking in the Spring weather and checking out Bar exam questions and answers from tests given in 2001. I'm not going to take the test. Not because I don't think I would pass - I've been trying genuinely to give a sh*t about words written in a legal document or contract and deciphering what should have could have would have been written which would have side-stepped a lawsuit. But the fact is I have too much respect for life to mull over ink on paper for days and weeks only to lift my head from my desk and point a finger at someone while declaring "I've found the missing word!" It ain't my thing. I'm more interested in finding the missing number or drum beat. And so it goes.

I have a new venture, but I won't reveal it until I'm a little more involved. Right now I'm in the beginning stages - but this is a good one. I'm really excited about it. So I may well not be blogging (I hate that word) for a while, but it ain't cuz I'm not busy. If I have any luck with my new project I'll have beautiful things to report. Curious? We'll all just have to wait and see.

photo by: there is no photo

Emerging

2006-02-28T00:34:00.000-05:00

Lobsters shed their shells
about 4-5 times per year.
(c/o Answers.com)

For most of my life I've had this nagging feeling that everything I experience is building up to a climactic variety of application - but I guess I'm still not sure what that means exactly. Stranger still, I feel like I've reached optimum comfort in my new 'shell'. I don't believe this metaphor applies to everyone, but there are some on this planet who live life shedding their 'shells' and growing into new ones. (I'm not talking about the 'shells' acquired via plastic surgery.)

I realized I was using mental energy feeling like a failure due to lack of financial accomplishment - which means my 'spent' energy wasn't used to make more money. I pondered sitting through another two years of classes to get a degree in something that would make me qualified for a job that would afford my being able to pay back another huge loan. Nope. That sounds really boring. But sitting at this stupid cubicle desk for the next two years and still not being able to save a dime sounds pretty boring too.

I discovered Opinionistas just before she quit her job as a lawyer in a NYC law firm and revealed her identity. She was fun to read because of the role she played - a witty, perceptive young woman who has a great take on the law office environment. In real life, she was experiencing a conflict of interests and decided it needed resolve. The blog will never be the same without her working in a law firm, but she demonstrates how going back to school and getting a degree that awards a better paying job doesn't quench the thirst.

I've decided to get a better paying job without getting a degree, so I've broken it down and determined that I'm going to educate myself and take the Bar Exam. Much cheaper and I'll be able to make a significant addition to my resume (assuming I pass of course, which I will because I'm so f*cking brilliant I've figured out that I can take the exam again if I fail, until I pass.)

What will that qualify me for? I'm not sure, but if I were an employer, I'd be impressed.

photo by: LL

Have You Ever Read... ?

2006-02-27T23:52:00.000-05:00

My answer is the same for the
question: "Did you ever see... ?"

photo by: LL

Who Wants to Play?

2006-02-16T22:21:00.000-05:00

"You have the perfect excuse," she said,
"you have a dog."

She pointed out the obvious all night, but somehow it felt like I was hearing these ideas for the first time. These were thoughts I would 'normally' think myself, but lately I haven't been making the mindtime.

"People are going to have something to say no matter what you're doing, so you might as well just say 'f*ck 'em' and do whatever you want. You come first so why not take pride in your decisions and look great at the same time? Drink lots of water and walk your dog for an hour every morning while you flex every muscle you can think of with each step. C'mon, let's go out tonight."

Uh... I don't think so. I haven't showered today, I just finished walking the dog for an hour and I stink - not to mention I'm dressed like a shlep.

"Get in the shower, here's some soap and a facial foamy yummy pseudo clothy thingy. I've already turned on the radio - just get the lighter to light the candles and I'll have an outfit for you by the time you finish. Take your time, girl, enjoy the shower and getting ready - make it a big production."

And I did. We both looked great that night - we felt great too. (I should mention I was wearing a great deal of eye make-up and my hair was braided in pigtails.) We took a cab to a destination two blocks away because we looked too good to huff it there only to be smelly promptly upon arrival.

We got out of the car, walked into the place and I eventually realized we were literally the only two white people in the club. Honestly, I probably wouldn't have noticed, but while we were waiting at the bar for our drinks I scoped out the scene and my full turn landed on a table of six ladies who were looking directly at me with a glare that I'll never be able to describe and I'll never be able to forget.

"Shim lah la la la shma ma yikkle swooh," she knew I had no idea what she said, but we had our drinks in our hands and there was only one thing to do, let our feet find a spot to stand. The music was so loud I walked straight to the back where we had access to the 'patio' and we found empty chairs, a table, a mild winter night and a decibel level low enough to understand what the other one was saying. I let her do most of the talking, she's Irish, she's my Huzby's aunt and she has a real way with words. She was telling me things she says in her day to day that are so brutally honest people don't know what to make of her. They either burst out laughing or give her a look that wonders how much longer it will be before she's admitted to the nearest psych ward - but the best part is she doesn't care either way.

To any random guy who might strike up a conversation: "I hope you're not thinking you're going to get in my pants by talking to me because honestly, where do you get off thinking you could actually handle me in bed? Don't you think you're a bit full of yourself? Really."

To a table she's waiting that's raving about the food: "That's great, really, but to be honest I really don't give a flying f*ck what you think of it 'cause I didn't cook it." Always punctuated with her signature laugh, soon to be copyrighted.

To her African-American boyfriend as he's getting up to get her the glass of water she requested: "White power."

To a person complimenting her on her appearance: "Well it's about time you said something, it took a good two hours for me to get ready."

To the lady in the bathroom stall next to her who passes gas - the noisy kind: "You go girl. Get it all out."

photo by: LL

A New Identity

2006-02-02T22:03:00.000-05:00

"...and if you can't be with the one you love,
love the one you're with..." -CSNY

I've been wondering if this is the approach I should take toward my job. Maybe I'd be happier? Or maybe that's how to flip the switch and plaster a stupid insincere smile on my face for the rest of my 'middle-aged' days. I could strive to be unnoticeably successful, feeling comfort in the fact that I like what I'm doing. There's only one problem. I don't like what I'm doing.

Crap - this is what happens every time. But instead of searching for a new job every night like I should probably be doing, I'm learning about how to design my own site. I'm very slowly learning how to put it together. But it's fun. I finally feel like a justified computer junkie.

Here are two of my favorites: GRSites & HTML Goodies
If you're into this kind of thing, Enjoy.

I also discovered Opinionistas & Mimi. No comment. I just discovered they exist.

photo by: my sister

Biding Time

2006-01-18T22:09:00.000-05:00

For the longest time I thought it
was 'buying time' which is, in my
opinion, a more interesting ponder.

No, really. In my head, this 'phase' I'm going through involves wearing the most irritating outfits just to get a paycheck while I somehow have time to conjure up an actual business out of thin air. I'm capable, enthusiastic and young[ish], so who's to say I'm not on the brink of CEO-dom? For some years now I've been thinking that I'm being paid to earn money for someone else, therefore I'm 'buying' time while I get my sh*t together and eventually start my own sh*t. Maybe that's what I learned in college: how to 'buy' enough time before buckling down and getting it together for the test. Only in real life, the test doesn't have a scheduled date, or time. It's just me, in my head, explaining to myself over and over again why something I haven't even identified hasn't happened yet.

My life needs direction, but my direction is my life. I am what I make of it.
I guess that makes this my directionless weblog.

photo by: LL

By Default

2006-01-08T21:43:00.000-05:00

I've decided I'm not a very
good 'blogger' and I've lost
interest.

This doesn't mean I'm going to stop posting, ('thank the lord above...,' I know that's what you're thinking). But like the rest of my life, this weblog is lacking direction. So I'm taking some time to direct myself. Perhaps I'll write about the developments, or not.

Huzby decided to quit smoking this year, and since he can't smell it or be around it I've been forced to quit too. It's been an interesting week.

photo by: LL

The Blind Leading the Blind

2006-01-03T23:42:00.000-05:00

I like figuring things out on my
own, but I also recognize when
I need the help of another.

A fresh perspective can renew the same situation. I've realized we have to keep ourselves and each other in check. When you feel yourself starting to wander in a direction you're not particularly thrilled about, ask for guidance. Sure, you could ask in the form of a prayer or maybe even a wo/man of the faith. Me? I don't like being scolded and punished for being human. I've chosen my sins, and I don't regret them. I like hearing and reading what people (aka: fellow sinners) have to say. It's never what I expect, but it's genuine and usually very helpful. I hope to somehow provide the same for you. We're really all in this together.

photo by: my sister

Does That Make Me 'Politcal'?

2006-01-01T23:32:00.000-05:00

This pasty blue-eyed redhead
with freckles is the farthest
thing from being racist.

However, I'm extremely judgmental about people (& blogs) I find boring.
Does that make me a 'bloggist' a 'borist' or a 'politicalist'?

I not only 'blog' (insert finger down throat), I think too. I think about how boring your blog is, with a few exceptions of course, and then I think about how boring my blog must be. Why would you give a sh*t what I decide to type on any given evening? My addiction is selfless. I say this because I blog to read your rants, I like to learn what you're inspired to type about.

I look up to you. You inspire me to type about the limbo that sandwiches the thought. But I read you and you're beautiful. You care enough about your thoughts to type them for the world to see. Without you, where would I be?

photo by: LL

Only 364 More to Go

2006-01-01T00:46:00.000-05:00

Every morning is a wake-up
call with the same potential,
but once a year is celebration
enough.

Here's to living life to the fullest,
looking into opportunities and
taking advantage of the ones
you've been presented with.

Here's to finally feeling comfortable
in your own skin just in time to
despise the skin you're in.

Here's to being thankful for
your family, because you have one.

Here's to dumb luck, and the
folks who are out there paying
the price for you.

Here's to raising your cup,
peering looks of sobriety through
your glasses, and vocally expressing
whatever slips out.

Here's to action, repercussion
and everything in between.

Here's a clink from my glass
to yours... a whole-hearted
'cheers' for all the best in 2006.

photo by: LL

The Wheel

2005-12-27T15:04:00.000-05:00

My family coming together
for the holiday season this
year was special.

It's not that it hasn't been special in the past, but this year I feel like our being together wasn't taken for granted. We're all older, we've had a death in my mother's immediate family this year, and our relationships, as much as they seem very much the same, have gradually become more 'grown-up'.

For too many, this holiday season was a haunting reminder of lives lost, families dissevered and homes destroyed. For some, this will be the last holiday season and for others, this is the first of many.

The end of the year prefaces a new cycle, a new season, a new start.
Once again, this is just the beginning.

photo by: LL

Not as $Negative

2005-12-22T21:02:00.000-05:00

This X-Mas is different.

An NYC transit strike meant I 'worked from home' this week. I hope I live to see the day when we all 'work from home.'

A couple of days ago my husband and I were trying to recall what we gave to the family for X-Mas last year. It took a minute, but we both remembered at the same time, full force. We stopped at a gas station one hour away from the eight-hour-journey's destination and bought $50 worth of lottery tickets - we were thinking it was a good thing we showed up with presents BEFORE we arrived for X-Mas celebrations.

Things are different this year. We actually have more that $50 to spend on X-Mas presents, and I've had all week to do some seriously thoughtful shopping - er, I mean 'working'. Direct deposit is scheduled for tomorrow, and I'm feeling calm. For the first time in the history of my being an 'adult,' I feel calm - and it's three days before X-Mas.

The bills are paid, we have gifts that consist of anything but lottery tickets, and I selected tomorrow as a vacation day. Huzby is working tomorrow, so he's in bed. It's giving me the urge to listen to my most requently recorded music. This is Rock*Candy three years ago, before I was married, and before I accepted the fact that I needed my current job more than I needed a band. Listening to this makes me remember why I like playing drums so much.
Note: I'm not singing, I'm playing drums.

photo by: LL

The True Spirit of X-Mas

2005-12-21T21:15:00.000-05:00

At work we decided to have
a holiday fundraiser for the
onsite senior programs.

It was a jewelry sale. People donated jewelry and we sold it for a very reasonable price. The fundraiser raked in $630.00 - not bad for an hour selling pretty nice jewelry at $5 and $10 bucks a pop. Toward the end, some of the staff came in to check out the goods. Most bought something, it's a fundraiser.

Shortly after the Jewels Event, I learned that one of the staff members has an 'eye' for authentic gems and had gone out on her lunch break to get her new ring appraised. She learned her ring was worth $700. She didn't donate it to the fundraiser. She came back to the office and made sure everyone in the building knew she just bought a $700 ring for $10 - within an hour. Now that's class.

photo by: LL

Where the Wave Takes Me

2005-12-20T23:01:00.000-05:00

Being in a band is like
being in a relationship.

You put yourself out there in search of a meaningful relationship with other musicians. You know that you can't let attraction distract you, and this allows for energy (stored with alternative intentions in mind) to throw itself into the 'dating' portion of your 'sensational music accompaniment' quest. The fact of the matter is that your talent is waiting to be complimented, and there's not enough time in the day to work, practice AND date. But that's just me.

I was introduced to a drum set in college and it was love at first boom. I was playing bass at the time, which was great because it was a lot easier than learning the guitar, but it was missing something: my feet. All four of my limbs took to the drums and I was in a band before I knew what happened. Strap On Fantasy - that was the name of my first band. We were two guitars (both vocals, male) an organ (male), and drums (me, female). We recorded an album, played 8 shows (2 outside), and came in 3rd place at Battle of the Bands. Then we graduated and the four of us went in four different directions all over the continental US. It's 10 years later and I don't remember any specific songs, but I know we rocked. Trust me, sexual tension makes for very good music.

Seven bands later, I found myself being referred to a guitarist via my sister. "But he's so much younger than me...," I remember saying. "Don't worry about it," she said. "Just try it. I think your sounds will work well together." The next week we met, and we made a 'date'. He came over (guitar in hand) and I showed him where the 'sound room' was - I opened the door to the basement. I stalled for a minute and told my roommate, Amy, to join us. "What would I play?" she asked. (She's skilled at the acoustic guitar and banjo.) "Play bass, it's easy - and you'll be able to play around with it - you'll like it." She came with me downstairs. The rest, as they say, is history. Ms. Bassist married Mr. Guitarist, and six years later, RockStarCandy (the band trio) is expecting the newest member in its rock n' roll family. Amy is six months pregnant.

photo by: LL

Bilingual

2005-12-17T13:30:00.000-05:00

Tapped! You're it.

An article in the New York Times recounts a live radio broadcast from President Bush on Saturday during which he confirmed that he has ordered "...the National Security Agency to conduct an electronic eavesdropping program in the United States without first obtaining warrants, and said he would continue the highly classified program because it was 'a vital tool in our war against the terrorists.'"

Just who are the terrorists? In a seemingly unrelated article, a post by Miss Hag enlightened me to the fact that cannabis-smoking New Yorkers have reached the tip of the very-short-supply iceburg.

What will we do? What we've always done. Americans are bilingual, though not in the literal sense. We have the ability to pick any number of words to take on a new meaning. Whether it's drugs or war tactics, the lag time created before the code is cracked is all the time needed to get the job done.

So while President Bush is claiming that this deliberate invasion of Americans' right to privacy is for our own protection, it's continually apparent to me that the "War on Terror" is a guise being used to slowly chip away at our already diminishing freedoms.

photo by: LL

One-Way

2005-12-15T22:58:00.000-05:00

Why am I wondering where
I made a mistake?

Through all the rest of it, I've managed to figure out emotions on a logical level. In fact, I have the ability to 'explain' my way in or out of any given emotion. For a while I was thinking it was a talent. Now I realize it's just a shortcut to creating my very own ultimate hurdle.

While every choice anyone ever makes in any given moment is the only one a person feels is 'right' at the time, the sequence of events invokes in a feeling of entrapment. I got myself in this situation, but how did I end up here?

It's happening again. I'm getting curious. Curious about what life would be like if I took yet another direction. I'm still me. And I'm still here. But I have a strong urge to be that person. That person over there. It's me. You'll see.

photo by: my sister

Uh oh

2005-12-14T21:45:00.000-05:00

What will become of the
children's children?

Today, I read in the New York Times that the President of Iran is very publicly attesting to the idea that the countries who fought in World War II should be held responsible for Israel's nation location and he called "...the Nazi Holocaust a 'myth' used as a pretext for carving out a Jewish state in the heart of the Muslim world."

I guess I really didn't see this one coming.

Full article

photo by: LL

Us vs. Them

2005-12-11T23:09:00.000-05:00

Today was pivotal.
The premise to this web log is:
Plant the seed of thought and watch it grow.

For the second time in two months, I'm going to claim to not be much of a movie buff. But today, something strange happened. My web log (as a unit) visited me in my everyday non-blog reality.

I started the log by writing about how tendencies of the universe are in my favor, only because why not assume it's my choice? And then I started asking my questions and wondering if I put them out there, whether my questions would be answered. Wouldn't you know it, I've been getting responses ever since.

Countless times I was told to read the book, 1984. I never read it because I prefer a cheat sheet (and I hate being told what to do.) I feel comfortable enough taking a stab at what I think the book is probably about: Politicals reign, Big Business rules and us human beings are tricked into being monitored and recorded for our own protection. This 'protection' is the very thing that strips away our human freedom. Well, I consider The Island to be the modern-day version of my interpretive non-read of 1984.

The movie is said to take place in 2019, which isn't far from now. It's a terrifying exploration into the possible evolution of 'big business,' intellectual properties and medical advancements. The movie made me wonder how long it will be before someone actually 'buys the rights' to God.

photo by: LL

Mum's the Word

2005-12-10T02:45:00.000-05:00

No more I'll publish the al Jazeera memo button for me.

OK, Mom?

photo by: LL

Broaching an Inkling

2005-12-07T21:47:00.000-05:00

A web log provides freedom of expression.
This comes in many forms, as I found out
one night while randomly searching for a blog
I'd care to revisit.

It was a long night, but I found it.
Diogenesian Discourse has introduced me to
a world I was beginning to think didn't exist.

He's an Australian Vietnam Veteran who simply speaks his mind, and in that, he's answered the questions I've never had the 'balls' to ask.

Since the beginning of the "War on Terror" I've seen many military recruitment stations throughout the course of my everyday commute. Yes, I take the subway in New York City.

Part of me wants to approach these young men and commend them. The other part of me doesn't want to start a conversation which will result in my wondering why I haven't joined the army. The second part of me always wins. I won't be able to explain myself to someone so young who is full of heart and good intentions. This doesn't mean I don't have the highest respect for these youthful, courageous wo/men who aren't afraid to defend and fight for our country. I do. I thank you with a kind of sincerity that can't be expressed in words, only tears.

More than 2,000 American men have perished in an effort to win the "War on Terror" which I firmly believe to be a war of power being played by the 'big businessmen.' The winner is the 'man' who finishes with the most oil. That's it. There's not a second thought given to the repercussions on a personal level - a human level. Our bravest and boldest aren't even old enough to fully comprehend how brave and bold they really are before they die.

I am truly grateful to read the words of a man who speaks from experience:

"...I'm just an uneducated vet spewing forth rants and hyperbole.

About soldiers, especially vets. Many believe (because of the propaganda and brainwashing in their training), that they are truly fighting for freedom and democracy. I too believed that in my Vietnam days. They don't know they've been fed a mountain of lies. They trust the government and the military. Their crime is trusting but trusting should not be a crime. That's what makes me so angry at those lying bastards.

They take basically good people who are trusting, loyal, courageous, willing to put their lives on the line, and then corrupt them with their lies and their brainwashing. If you want a definition of evil, that's one right there.

I believed I was fighting for freedom and democracy. I was badly deceived. But now, with this blog, I am fighting for freedom and democracy. I'm home at last.

They are extremely lucky I've become a pacifist along the way (no thanks to them), or who knows, I might have used some of those killing skills they taught me to make the ultimate protest right in their lying faces.

(Note to ASIO (our Homeland Security/FBI): Go get a woolly bull up ya!!!) (A typical Australian insult.)"

photo by: LL

A Pretty Penny

2005-12-04T21:52:00.000-05:00

I live in a basement.
With 2.5 basement windows.

Since Meteorolgists get paid to tell fairytales, Fox (my dog) and I were pleastantly surprised to see snow on the ground when we walked up the seven stairs to the ground level this a.m.

I'd like to have a profession that pays me (decently) to be honest. But in this country, such jobs are hard to come by. If a person isn't applying for his dream job, the interview is a lie, the attire is a false impression and if hired, the employee is paid to be an asset to the employer. Not meeting the expectations results in poor reviews and will directly impact pursuing a different career.

A profession has surfaced in the last 20 years which deals with the repercussions of this career scenerio full of lies: Psychotherapy. Essentially, a psychotherapist is paid to shut up & listen. The sad part is that a person visiting a psychotherapist doesn't have anyone else to confide in (for free). Now we're charged to speak our minds? I suppose we're living in a world which is continually coming up with creative ways to make a buck. Even web logs have well-publicized links claiming to earn a few cents per click.

How are billions of people left feeling alone in this existence?
Wouldn't it be nice to live in a world where it's actually acceptable to be ourselves?

photo by: my sister

Anonymity

2005-12-02T23:37:00.000-05:00

I'm not a New York native.
I'm a New Yorker.

I grew up in Maine.
I've lived in a few places on the West Coast and a few places on the East Coast.

I've driven cross-country six times.

I spend the holidays with my family in my hometown, and I disguise myself before going to the grocery store in an effort to avoid potential conversations with anyone I know from my past. I'm not ashamed of who I am or where I've been, but I don't care much for providing an explanation - a history.

I favor elbow room. My mind space requires a three-foot radius. Close quarters make me nauseous, but I feel completely comfortable riding in a subway car an hour a day each way.

Somehow, in a town of eight million people, New York makes me feel optimal. Lost in a sea of faces, I don't have to explain anything. I'm surrounded by strangers I feel friendly with.

A New Yorker is observant, not nosy.
A New Yorker is a friend when you need one disguised as a stranger.
A New Yorker is forthright to a fault, not rude.
A New Yorker requires room to move among the dreamers.

A New Yorker needs no explanation because New York is what you make of it.

I'm home.

photo by: LL

Bathroom Blather

2005-12-01T22:13:00.000-05:00

Today marks the beginning of
HeartBeat's third month.

When I sat down to write this evening, I was staring at the blankest of slates. It may have had something to do with the fact that The Daily Show & The Colbert Report were so fabulously distracting. Luckily, I collected myself in my safe haven: the bathroom. It was truly a spiritual experience, and I decided I'd like to find a quote from a famous person born on my birthday to use as a springboard for my keyboard.

A brief cyber-search found me in tangent land, and I discovered a man full of brilliant prose who died on my birthday in 1939.

His name is Havelock Ellis, and these are the wonderful words he left behind:

"Every artist writes his own autobiography."

"Pain and death are a part of life. To reject them is to reject life itself."

"Dancing is the loftiest, the most moving, the most beautiful of the arts, because it is no mere translation, or abstraction from life; it is life itself."

After reading these quotes, I decided to ditch the keyboard springboard and just go to bed. Good night.

photo by: LL

Phone a Friend

2005-11-30T02:21:00.000-05:00

After seeing Dancer in the Dark with
one of my friends, I asked her which
she would prefer to be if she actually
had a choice: deaf or blind.

Without hesitation, she said she would rather be deaf. The thought of not being able to see where she was going and what she was doing seemed much worse to her than not being able to hear the sounds. Even worse, she felt, was the prospect of not being able to sink her stare into the glorious scenes and wonders of the world.

It was strange that I didn't spend any time pondering my preference either; the only difference is that I would choose to be blind. Absolutely. The song I've Seen it All from the soundtrack illustrates the reasoning behind my decision perfectly. If I haven't already seen it in person, than I've seen it in pictures. But waking up everyday hearing nothing but silence would slowly crush the life right out of me.

Most of the people I work with, I've never actually met. I talk to them on the phone regularly, and it's amazing how relationships can transpire through the sound of two human voices.

Today I learned one of my clients passed away. He was always very to the point on the phone. The only time he ever elaborated on a subject other than the business at hand was in our last conversation. Very matter of factly, he expressed great appreciation for our organization's services. He was so blunt and very well spoken. At the time, I was surprised to hear him say so much. Now I realize he somehow knew that was the last conversation we would have and he simply told me what he felt I needed to know.

There is so much sound I have yet to experience.

Maybe most importantly is learning the ability to hear what the silence is actually whispering among the sounds.

photo by: LL

Play in Work World, Live in Spare Time

2005-11-28T03:04:00.000-05:00

With the onset of Winter weather,
we'll shop 'til we drop and spend 'til
the year's end.

An eight hour drive back to New York reinstates where I left off last Wednesday. I'm young, but I feel tired. It's time for bed, but I know I won't be able to sleep for a few hours. Somehow, staying up and translating my thoughts into words consumes me.

I haven't decided if I'm calling in sick tomorrow. I've had a few days off, but I'm not ready to go back. Not yet. This holiday has only made me feel more comfortable in my preferred wardrobe, and I know Monday is the first of five consecutive days wearing clothes I hate to work a job I'm very good at no matter what fashion statement I'm making.

Lately I'm feeling like a half-friend. Not entirely available. Not practicing enough effort. This web log fills a void for me: my need to den.

The alarm is set for 6 a.m.

One more cigarette, and then it's off to bed. I know I'll lie there blinking, thinking and rehearsing my verbal presentation via voicemail which will result in my calling in sick (of work) seven hours from now.

photo by: LL

Seamless

2005-11-27T21:33:00.000-05:00

Today we head home.

We spent Friday in a fabric store in Maine,
and for a minute I thought I was in
New York again. Too many people in
one place searching for the perfect excuse
to spend money.

Immediately following a short time of
togetherness and family, it's comforting to
know we finally have a name for the holiday
when we all come to our senses: Black Friday.

photo by: LL

Thankful 3 Times Over

2005-11-21T19:42:00.000-05:00

I have one sibling and two parents.

The first time, I was very young.

When she fell over the side of the dock into the water, I was introduced to the feeling of helplessness. She was only three years old, but she had taken one or two swimming lessons which increased her chances of surviving by 100%. Even though she was mostly under water, she never lost her focus. Neither of us blinked while we maintained eye contact, and she managed to gulp a gasp of air every time and again. To this day I still don't know if she could hear me screaming her name over and over until our mother came running from the farthest point within earshot. I was only six, and I didn't know what else to do. Mom surged into the water and scooped her up, but I still felt like a failure. I thought I should have been able to save her. The water was just too deep and I didn't jump in. After we all had a chance to catch our breath, Mom explained to me what had really happened; I saved my sister's life.

The second time was in the midst of laughter. Believe it or not my mother knows the answer to every question I've ever asked her. Luckily, I witnessed the one moment she was actually stifled. She was choking, and she told me if I wasn't there to perform the Heimlich maneuver she wouldn't have known how to save herself.

The third time, my father had hiked five months to arrive in my neighboring town. He was on the last leg of the Appilation Mountain Trail when I picked him up from the trailhead with intent to provide a little bit of hospitality. At some point, he casually noted a rash on his arm. He showed me the faint circle of red and I strongly suggested he get it checked out. It didn't irritate him too much, and he was five months into his six-month journey; the last thing he wanted to do was go to a hospital. I insisted, and for some reason he complied. It turned out to be Lyme Disease, which when left untreated (for another month) can result in chronic arthritis and nerve and heart damage.

I am very much looking forward to spending another Thanksgiving with my family. Every year it's different.

photo by: LL

How Much is Too Much?

2005-11-19T22:39:00.000-05:00

At some point you have to know
when you've had enough.
This is true for everything -
every vice as well as every necessity.

Which are the habits to break and which are the habits to utilize?

I'd like to apply this concept to money. I've been dreaming of the day I can implement automatic bill-pay. But that day is far away considering the alternatives: loans, credit cards, and installment negotiations that will forever prevent me from catching up with myself financially. How are we supposed to keep up? I graduated from college & it was just as expensive as it was unbelievable to find out my degree isn't trendy enough for the times. I quickly learned that if I'm interested in making more than $40 grand a year, I need to shell out another $70,000 to get a different piece of paper which quantifies me a Master graduate. That ain't chump-change, especially considering most of us are already in the negative.

Freedom is the premise of this great nation - but what would this country (and the world) be like if money was somehow regulated? What would happen to the economy if income potential was capped at $10,000,000? Isn't that enough? What could anyone possibly want that exceeds $10 million?

With the country's deficit in the $trillions, it's difficult to apprehend the value of a dollar let alone a cool $million. Us taxpayers get to witness an ongoing accumulation of debt that exceeds comprehension; how long do you think it would take to count to 1,000,000,000,000? In my lifetime, minimum wage has increased by $4.50 an hour, while this country's debt has gone from $millions to $billions to $trillions. Where is this money coming from? We're all paying for it, but somehow being in this much debt doesn't feel real. It feels like the people we've elected to make major financial decisions for our nation are playing with Monopoly money; pay attention, folks, this is a great pun.

photo by: ML

1 Marisol

2005-11-17T20:03:00.000-05:00

There is 1 Marisol who, even with the slightest perusal of her eloquence,
reserves a place in our hearts.

Extraterrestrial

2005-11-15T21:16:00.000-05:00

Without a doubt, there are

life forms that exist in other
solar systems.

How do I know this? To put it simply, the inhabitants of planet Earth don't know enough to verify otherwise.

Try to imagine what the ultimate technological advancements will be for the human species. Maybe someday we'll start installing our cell phone/iPods directly into our ears. And maybe parents will opt to have identity chips injected into their newborns so they'll be able to find their children in the event of a kidnapping. And maybe the benefits of maintaining a healthy body weight will become so important, we'll figure out a way to nourish ourselves via pills alone.

Sometimes I feel we're working at great lengths to attain a common goal that has yet to be defined. Apparently, everyone agrees that if we send a few people out to bounce around on the moon, that's significant progress... which leads to what? Being able to fly at the speed of light? Maybe. I don't know - but who does?

At this point, plastic surgery is considered to be the next best thing to drinking from the 'fountain of youth' which, I guess we're all thirsty for?

If evolution really is the survival of the fittest, at some point form & function will unite. Have you noticed that our depiction of any given alien looks exactly like our depiction of any other given alien? Big brains that think big thoughts. Super-skinny bodies that do whatever needs to be done. No ears because telepathy is actually attained through sound chips installed at birth. Enormous blinkless eyes that witness and record everything ever seen.

What exactly are we striving for?

photo by: LL

Countdown

2005-11-14T22:53:00.000-05:00

Week after week, I decide I don't want

to live my life monitoring how many

days are left 'til the weak end.

Today on the subway, I saw a young man reading a book called The Theology of Time. That's not the funny part (...and at 0200 hours, God created man.) This gent was wearing a Band-Aid in the center of his forehead that covered what some would believe to be the location of his third eye. (Cue: Laughter)

A long 'time' ago... I decided I don't believe in time. It's simply a form of communication used either to plan for a future event or to reflect on and record what has happened in the past. Other than that, the whole notion of 'time' just doesn't make any sense to me. C'mon... daylight savings time? OK everybody - on Saturday, midnight will suddenly become 1 a.m. Clearly we can manipulate time to be whatever we want it to be. Let's be honest, if time were real wouldn't animals be wearing watches?

Ask an inmate how long s/he's been in jail, and I bet s/he could tell you to the minute. I'm not much of a movie buff, but there was a line in Flight of the Phoenix that caught my attention, "Ultimately, humans want one thing in life... to be loved. And if you can't give them love, give them a reason to hope. And if you can't give them hope, than for God's sake, give them something to do." (This quote may not be exact, but it's close.)

Almost everyday I think about people in jail. They are there for a reason. They got caught making a stupid decison the rest of us deem unfit for forgiveness. Who knows what it's like behind those bars? Were these people ever loved? Did they ever have hope? I guess society will sleep tonight knowing these inmates have something to do... they're counting the minutes.

HeartBeat Gets Defibrillated

2005-11-13T12:13:00.000-05:00

As soon as I attempted to liven up the look of my website, I realized I needed the help of a Professional. My weblog guru, Miss Hag. referred me to Girlie Bits designs - and to say the least, this Girlie brought my website to life. The ideas I conveyed to her over email were so vague, and somehow she pieced my chicken scratch together and came up with this incredible layout. A big thanks to Girlie Bits - an amazingly versatile talent. She'll show you what you're thinking before the thought even reaches your brain.

What You Don't Know, Hurts

2005-11-08T12:10:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving is in two weeks. It's my favorite holiday because it brings people together without the pressures of gift-giving. I could care less about stuffing my face full of gravied turkey.

Our family will come together in New England, and for me, this picture is the view from home. It hasn't always been home; but supposedly, "home is where the heart is."

I read an article in The Economist dated June 11, 2005 entitled 'Africa's Unmended Heart.' A fight for power leaves occupants of Congo struggling to stay afloat in a sea of violence. "...[T]he atrocities in eastern Congo are shocking. Zainabo Alfani, for example, was stopped by men in uniform on a road in Ituri last year. She and 13 other women were ordered to strip, to see if they had long vaginal lips, which the gunmen believed would have magical properties. The 13 others did not, and were killed on the spot. Zainabo did. The gunmen cut them off and then gang-raped her. Then they cooked and ate her two daughters in front of her. They also ate chunks of Zainabo's flesh. She escaped, but had contracted HIV. She told her story to the UN in February, and died in March."

Somehow, this woman conjured the strength to live long enough to tell her story. It makes me wonder how many untold stories there are... in Congo.

Presuming Zainabo was close to her home when this happened, I can only hope she was reunited with her heart when she died.

Juxtaposed

2005-11-07T12:08:00.000-05:00

A real life miracle first-born being held by his post-partem depressed mother. A bride tossing a bouquet of flowers made of metal. A tree in Autumn housing leaves of firey red on one branch and neon yellow on another. Icy air battling a scarf warmed by neck blood. And we're left wondering, what's to come?

In this light, I encourage you to embody your ultimate counter-example. Feel the fabric that makes your teeth grit. Smile (genuinely) at the person who irks you the most. Embrace the smell of another's fart. Give your least favorite music genre authentic audible attention. Eat what you find most distasteful. And lastly, do what you've always told yourself you couldn't.

It's in you. Every capacity you can imagine is within your grasp. Take hold, or perish knowing you just couldn't be bothered.

"Check Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself" - Beastie Boys

2005-11-06T12:06:00.000-05:00

This year, for some strange reason, Autumn in New York was postponed until November. What an amazing weekend. The leaves are so spectacular and every year I'm reminded why this is my favorite season.

Essentially, it's all about death - brilliantly beautiful death.

The Skinny

2005-11-03T12:04:00.000-05:00

The last time I was in really good shape, I was in high school. That's pretty pathetic.

I've never been overweight, but after I met my huzby our favorite pastime consisted of driving around, which didn't sit too well with my body - especially in addition to occupying a chair for 40 hours a week at work.

It's time to put an end to this madness. I want to feel really good about myself. I want to be addicted to exercise, blood flow, fresh air & visual groping.

Not only will I feel better, I'm curious where this new look will take me. I'm interested in making more money, and I'd like to test the completely superficial potential of aesthetics. Ultimately, it would be playing the same stupid game, but I'd have my health & I'm positive I could at least double my income.

Who said anything about being on a diet?
I'm enhancing my resume.

The History of Histories

2005-11-01T12:02:00.000-05:00

In retrospect, destiny is the irreversbile outcome, but at the same time, each decision made in every given moment ultimately determines history. The pursuit of our own free will simultaneously becomes what was 'meant to be.'

When I was 9 years old, my mother brought me to the doctor because I wasn't feeling well, and I was immediately hospitalized for two weeks (during Christmas) because, as it turned out, I had Cat Scratch Fever. This illness may strike a chord because there is an infamous rock song with the same name. On the one hand, I am proud that the only time I've ever been hospitalized had such a hardcore diagnoses; however, if the situation was left to my own volition, I don't know that I would be alive today to tell the tale.

My morale has never left me in complete agreement with Western medicine. To this day, I am convinced that Western medicine is more of a business than a miracle. The idea that people might regularly visit a therapist in an effort to nourish the positive facets of life plagues me.

But if there wasn't a law that deems my parents responsible for my decisions before I'm 'mature' enough to make my own, I shudder to think that there might be a life as we know it without Heart Beat (the blog you're reading right now.)

My college housemate/devil's advocate asked me a simple question: "So, if you're in a car accident and your choices are: a blood transfusion or death, does that mean you'll choose death because it's your 'destiny?'"

How you say: Fit to be tied?

In a Nutshell

2005-10-27T11:58:00.000-04:00

Last night Stephen Colbert interviewed an Astrophysicist. I would have remembered the scientist's name except I found his 'findings' quite boring. He said that the universe is comprised of mainly nothing.

Nothing? I can't believe an astrophysicist who actually gets an opportunity to share on national television what he has learned throughout his life-long career has this to say: there's really nothing out there & P.S.: Pluto is no longer considered a planet.

There is one scientific conclusion I hold near & dear to my heart: We human beings only use about 10% of our brain capacity. That premise keeps our discoveries humble, which in turn keeps our research indefinitely minimal. If I were to be so bold as to pursue a career in astrophysics, I would ask the same questions my 'shroomed brain did when I was in college.

Namely:
-If our Sun is a star, how many stars are actually suns (complete with solar systems)?

-Given that we know atoms exist, is it possible that our solar system, from another vantage point, is actually the size of an atom?

-Either there is someting or there is nothing - so how is it possible that there's 'nothing' out there when there's obviously so much we experience everyday that is clearly not 'nothing'?

Opposites enhance each other. The happier you are the more sadness you actually allow yourself to feel, the more pain you acknowledge the more meaningful joy becomes. In conclusion, the opposite of nothing is most certainly not just something - it's everything.

Dinner Tonight

2005-10-26T11:57:00.000-04:00

For all you taker-outers out there, there's hope. Her name is Rachael Ray and she brings it home.

If you're interested in saving a buck, there's always cooking on the homefront. And take it from me, I can't cook - even if something extemely valuable is at stake. I'm serious. You think any moron can make Ramen Noodles? Guess again. I'm no moron, but I served up the worst bowl of Ramen you've ever seen - tastebuds couldn't even salvage this wreck.

Basically, I need The Joy of Cooking to boil water.

In the past few months, I've learned a valuable lesson about cooking. Don't give up. Just find a trusty source of secrets, and you'll surprise even yourself. My secret? (I guess it's not much of a secret anymore) is Rachael Ray. I had Chili-Garlic Roasted Broccoli for lunch yesterday, and I'm never ordering out again.

Par

2005-10-25T11:54:00.000-04:00

Does History really repeat itself?
Are we really destined to become our parents?

At this stage in the game, my parents were married & they owned a house in Maine that they paid $20,000 for. (Or was that their combined annual income?) I'm pretty sure it was both. Give or take few pennies, that's not a bad ratio.

I didn't get married at the same age as my parents.
But I did get married in the same month.

I don't have children now, but at this point in her life, my mother had her first born - me. The same year I was born, my parents bought their very own business - which they still own and operate today.

Talk about feeling like a failure... I'm still addicted to car payments and kids just scare the hell out of me. Don't get me wrong, I love kids - but that's an 18-year commitment I'm just not ready to start right now. I have my own projects I've only just begun. Then you have another kid... it's like signing another 18-year contract.

But biologically, I'm ticking... it's just too much pressure. I don't want to have kids right now, but I don't want to be 70-year old mother with a 10-year old either. (I know it's not exactly possible - but with medical advancements, you never know.)
Does this mean I don't want to have children?

If there's anything more amazing than actually finding the love of your life in a world full of shmucks (ladies, I know you understand) it would be having children with this person - they would be the most incredible kids - not to mention good looking.

And at the rate weeks and months are going by these days, I'm afraid I'm going to end up fired from the position of motherhood before I even get a chance to apply.

Cloud 9

2005-10-22T11:53:00.000-04:00

When I describe myself as being asexual in college, no one gets the joke.

a·sex·u·al
adj.

The conclusion wasn't challenging. At the time, I didn't want to be rude and say I wasn't attracted to anyone. Most of my 'friends' were boys; they weren't stupid, and looks really don't mean anything to me. Either I like you as a person, or I don't.

I have to admit I did set 3 limits:
-Don't date anyone you live with
-Don't date anyone you're in a band with
-Don't date anyone you work with

These rules eliminated 90% of the guys I met. But to prove my own point to myself, I dated one guy from each category. I considered it "the control group" - science applied to philosophy.

The 'live with' guy was the last in a long line of guys I lived with, and of course it turned out to be dramatic and stupid because we lived together, and we had other roommates.

The 'band width' guy was fun and the the whole 'dating' experience was extremely short and unspoken about. Of course the band fell apart.

The 'work with' guy literally lasted as long as a lunch break.

I decided I never wanted to get married. And then I met the exception to my own rule. This guy is smart, he keeps me on my toes, and he's funny. To top it all off, I've never been so attracted to anyone ever in my entire life. I had no other choice but to marry this man. He possesses the optimum qualities I hope to be a major influence throughout the duration of my life.

I've been with him 3 years, and we've been married for 2, but I know he's the person I never want to part with. I can tell because I've always hated cooking, but I've recently taken an interest because I'd like to do something for him everyday that he'll like.

Call me domestic, call me what you want. Just know that I don't know what's come over me. I think the closest anyone has ever come to describing it is: "You just know."

I always hated that vague description, but I'm well-traveled in the continental United States and this is the closest I've ever gotten to being able to convey this feeling to others. For variety's sake, everyone is looking for something different, that's why it's impossible to elaborate.

Introducing: Fox

2005-10-19T11:51:00.000-04:00

Occupation: Dog
Favorite Pastime: Fetch
Quirk: Sneezing
Age: 5 Human Years
Weight: 12 lbs.
Famous for: Smiling
Treat of Choice: Snausages
Enjoys: Stretching
Talent: Fartless

Yes, those are his teeth. He's always smiling. And he's a living, breathing reminder everyday that the decisions I've made in my life led me to him. Which illustrates perfectly my theory about any kind of emotion that involves going back in the past and wondering what would have, could have, should have happened. Guilt, shame, anger, regret. These emotions are real, but at the same time they are not out of our control. They can be replaced with other more positive thoughts when a different perception is applied.

For instance, you could spend a great deal of mind space wondering how life would be different if something in the past did or didn't happen. The truth? It's over. Take what you can learn from it and move on. Does that sound cold-hearted?

Feel your feelings. It's important to give them room to move and express themselves, because they are in fact real. In the same token, if you ignore your feelings or surpress them, they don't magically go away. The only way to discard pent up negative emotions is to feel them.

So whatever you have going on right now, or whatever you continue to feel badly about, give yourself the opportunity to feel every part of who you really are. Even if it's not smiling and picture perfect.

When the negative feelings are felt and acknowledged, underneath all the surpressed stuff that you 'haven't had time to deal with' is an endless amount of positive energy that wants to move too. Have you ever cried so much that you started laughing? If you have, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't then that's exactly what you need to do.

Get lost in a sea of pronoia and focus on what you have and what you really value in life. This choice is available for you to make everyday.

On the Scene

2005-10-18T11:47:00.000-04:00

HeartBeat's Beauty Tips n' Tricks:

Maybe someday I'll write The Cliff Notes to Beauty & Fashion. Until then, I just get so excited when I apply a new beauty approach I've learned that actually works - I want to share.

The theme of my approach is cheap. That's not to say I've found the cheapest products in CVS and they work. I tried that, and that's not what I'm here to tell you about today. The product prices are mid to high range in CVS. But it ain't too shabby compared with the price for a moisturizer in Macy's.

I'm on a budget - I'm saving up to buy a house in New York 70 years from now.
I read something in a girlie magazine a couple of years ago that was an interview with an up n' up chik who said, "At the very least, if you wake up late for work in the morning, you have to brush your teeth, curl your eyelashes and put on lipstick."

This was good news to me - everyday I wake up late for work and I only have to add one more thing to my a.m. regimen of beauty efforts - I have to brush my teeth. But I'm learning the importance of nurturing your youth. (And by 'youth' I mean anyone under 87 years old.)

My sister tells all her friends the story of the time she asked me why I use anti-wrinkle cream on my eyes when I'm only 22? My reply, "Exactly." When she told her future huzby that story, he starting using eye cream. Just pick any small containered eye cream from TJMaxx that has the word 'mineral' in it.

It being said that the least of your a.m. beauty routine involves curling your eyelashes, applying lipstick, and brushing your teeth: I suggest any ol' eyelash curler, but curl the lashes 3x - at the bottom, middle & tip. Lipstick has been the primary subject of my research. First, in order to keep your lips supple, always have lip moisturizer on hand. Anything but Blistex. I have Milk & Honey flavored Labello, that my sister got for me in a regular drug store in Germany. C'est magnifique, but Chapstick will do just as well.

As for the color part, I recomend Revlon's Glide lipcolor. There are loads of colors, and one click gives you enough color for both lips and it doesn't feel like you painted you lips with nail polish.

Toothpaste is very important. Don't brush your teeth with sugar, which is most of the toothpastes out there. I'm not going to elaborate on why you shouldn't be brushing your teeth with suger. It should be obvious.

I read in Body Reflexology by Mildred Carter (copyright 1983) that she brushed her teeth a.m. & p.m. with sea salt and baking soda. In the book, it says that "A dentist I went to years ago for a mouth infection told me that I had perfect teeth and gums and asked what I used for toothpaste. I told him that I had used salt and soda all my life. He said that was the reason I had hard healthy gums and teeth. The glycerin used in toothpastes, he said, tended to soften the gums.... Now we are told by Dr. Paul Keyes, clinical investigator at the National Institute of Dental Research, that gum disease can be prevented simply by brushing with salt."

I don't have evidence otherwise, so I'm going with whatever Mildred Carter says. Even Tom's of Maine has glycerin - it's the second ingredient.

Also, don't pick a toothpaste that has floride. Kevin Trudeauadvocates that the floride benefits ain't all they're cracked up to be.

What happens if you actually wake up when the alarm goes off?

Take a hot shower & finished with a cold rinse to close pores. Wash with soap. And use Samy Salon shampoo and conditioner for a great smelling wake-me-up that treats your hair right. If you're in the need to style, I recommend CatWalk and got2b hair styling products.

The importance of a first impression has been illustrated in history. Your face plays a big role, and I've been evaluating facial products for years. Only recently have I found the products I'm ready to recommend. Proactiv. It's such a great price for the whole system: exfoliant, toner, and moisturizer. I receive a new shipment every six months, and I have plenty left over. It works really well.

But in addition to Proactiv, I use Neutrogena's Visably Even face wash and moistuizer (spf 15). It's a little more expensive than its' shelf neighbors, but it works tremendously.

At night, I use Oil of Olay's face wipes for sensitive skin. Easy. Painless. Gets the job done well.

Lastly, don't eat anything after 6 p.m. It's a tip I learned from Kevin Trudeau and my skinny European neighbor. I've only been doing it for one week and I lost 10 lbs.
Note: If you're a night crawler, avoid eating 4 hours before you go to bed.

Next, I'm doing reseach on my exercise blog, so stay tuned.
Right now I'm thinking Tai Bo.

My Mirror Says: I LOVE ME

2005-10-17T10:06:00.000-04:00

My sister gave me a gift certificate to Origins last year. I love lipstick. It's my weakness. But when I went into the store I found something that demanded I buy it.

It was a mirror that literally reads 'I LOVE ME' on the bottom. How could I resist?

I'm a blogger, not a Friendster. I don't care if you're my friend. I get more satisfaction out of being able to design my own personal website full of thoughts and links about me.

Does that make me self-absorbed? I guess so. But who isn't? And if you're not - try it. Ultimately, aren't you your only friend? Who's going to be there when you die? You will. So why not spoil yourself and get caught up in yourself a little bit while you're preparing to die?

I don't mean to sound so morbid. I just think that death should be thought of in the same light that birth is. Who's not to say that our birth in this world isn't the direct result of death in another dimention?

I've Decided There's Value in Debt

2005-10-16T10:03:00.000-04:00

I'll never forget learning the financial philosophy of my most frugal friend.

She asked me why I don't have any money saved. Looking back, I realize she was really asking me the question she knew I never asked myself. The answer wasn't important to her - she had savings.

My financial philosophy? What if the world ends tomorrow? I want to experience things that cost money - in other words, I want to buy a brand new pick-up truck.

Her response: What if the world doesn't end tomorrow? Or in the next five years? I'd like to be prepared for anything between now and then.

We've all got 'em. Friends that are 'broke' for 10 months and then they can 'miraculously' afford to do something they'd really like to do... eg. travel, invest or upgrade.

I guess I like to think I'm not envious. I like to think I'm taking a different approach. My husband is a glutton for instant gratification... and as much as I know our interests would be much better served if I took a stand and enforced 'not spending,' I want the payoff for my hard work just like anyone else. I've been working since I was 14 - I'm 30 now... when do I get to buy a new truck?

And I have no intention of leaving New York - so if I don't triple my salary pretty soon, I'm going to have the 5-year plan for 'tenants.' It's great. I can plan on still paying someone else's mortgage five years from now.

I don't care - I've recently discovered off-roading and it's incredible. I'm not a city-chik, I'm a city-hick. Born and bred in the sticks, all grown up and livin' in the NYC 'burbs.

Life is a mullet - business in the front, party in the back.

Looking UP

2005-10-15T09:55:00.000-04:00

This is what I read yesterday:
The primary meaning of the word healing is "to cure what's diseased or broken." Medical practitioners focus on sick people. Psychotherapists wrestle with their clients' traumas and neuroses. Philanthropists donate their money, and social workers contribute their time to helping the underprivileged. I am in awe of them all. The level of one's spiritual enlightenment, I believe, is more accurately measured by helping people in need than by meditation skills or mastery of religious doctrine. But I also believe in a second kind of healing which is largely unrecognized: to supercharge what is already healthy; to lift up what's merely sufficient to a state of sublime blessing. I'm driven with ambition to promote this work, even as I aspire to do my share of fixing what's hurt. What would the world look like if there were doctors who specialized in fostering robust health in their patients? What if the textbooks that psychotherapists used to evaluate their clients were crammed not just with descriptions of pathological states, but also with a catalogue of every variety of bliss, integrity, magnanimity, eros, and wisdom? Imagine how odd and wonderful it would be if universities began turning out professionals in a brand new field, the science of happiness. -Rob Brezsny

Well thank you, Mr. Brezsny. I majored in Psychology and I graduated thinking, now I know I'll never pursue a career as a Psychiatrist. It would be so depressing, and I really disliked the idea of narrowing down the billions of people in the world to seven dismal categories.

I majored in the field because I like people - they facinate me. It certainly didn't have anything to do with what kind of disorder a child has if s/he isn't getting A+s in school.

As a young sprite, it was much easier to maintain a very high standard of questioning what I was told. Now I'm starting to feel naustalgic about those thoughts and I'm wondering if that is what's behind someone saying "...those were the good ol' days..." or "...that was when I was young and stupid."

It's late, I quenched my thirst and I hear an infomercial in the background. TIME has come out with a collection of 8 cd's that are dedicated to the 1970's. The pitch is that no one remembers the names of all the great bands that were 'hot' at that time and it would even be difficult to find this music on the internet.

I thought about what approach I would use trying to get this music into my ipod without spending a penny. It would involve transferring vinal to cd and I've never seen it done, I know it's out there, but I have no idea what it involves. I guess one approach would be recording the vinal onto a tape - but poo poo on quality.

Then I wondered how I would acquire all those albums - and it hit me. My parents have a huge chest of albums. When I was little I listened to them, but I liked the ones that I listened to so much I just kept listening to them over & over - I probably never even heard 75% of the stuff they had.

And who are those people? The owners of those albums - before they were my parents. In their sixties, how often do they think of those people?

Who was that person before I was married? Where did I go?

Earth. The label is so motionless.
I think it should be called Morph.
Life. Ever-changing, but again the label is stagnant.
I think it should be called Fluidity.

I'm so excited about being 30 - and few people feel the same way. I have a family, a job that pays me on payday, and I live in a basement apartment that doesn't flood. Life is good.

I have begun to manifest the science of happiness.

The universe is spinning in my direction.