Piss off.

I've just sent an email to my sister telling her to piss off. I know this is supposed to be my "happy" blog where I only write things that are good and positive but I decided that, in theory, this could be a good thing. I'll explain why.

My whole life I've been one of those beggars. You know the type. People who feel they need to grovel for affection. The first to apologize when something's gone wrong in a relationship. The first to take the blame, even if it's not our fault. The one to send the tortured emails and phone calls while the other person plays it cool. That's been me my whole life. Trying to save a relationship despite the other person's lack of participation.

But I've had it with that and maybe it's a good thing that my most important relationship has come to this. I've been closer to my sister than anyone else on this earth and I've cared for her more than anyone too. But, now that all this has happened I think some light is making its way into my brain. My sister has always known how to lie and manipulate me to her liking and to her needs. It's ridiculous that I never noticed until this past year, but its finally beginning to sink in. Maybe this has all happened for the better and I just don't know that yet.

It's hard for me to watch my sister float away from me like a life raft floats away from a sinking man. It hurts. But maybe now I have to swim to shore and maybe that will be good for me.

Anyway, after spending weeks trying to figure out why she's shutting me out and rallying against her no-good boyfriend, I've decided to tell her to piss off. I'm not begging for table scraps from her. I've had it.

Poem for a cause...

i laugh with you - it is a heaven the way your eyes ignite my eyes. i love with you - my skin a satin sheet for you to lie upon. my head is reasoning that i should seek out clearer waters, but i have not once suffered from thirst while swimming inside your solid arms. these kisses keep me afloat.

SERIOUS RANT AHEAD.

Put on your helmets. This is going to be a long rant so I hope if you're reading this you have some time.

I am not a good girl. There. I said it. I have never been a good girl. Although, for a while I tried to pretend to be one. In college and then in adulthood, I have ocassionally lapsed into trying to be a "good girl." But you know what I finally realized? It makes me angry. I'm angry about the fact that society teaches girls to be "good". I don't mean good in a don't-steal-things-or-kill-people way. I mean good in a "be pretty and slim and sit there quietly making few if any waves" kind of way. I think that as long as women continue to expend loads of energy and countless millions of dollars bending and shaping themselves into a stereotypical image few of us can attain, we will forever be at the mercy of a male driven society.

Is this a feminist, man hating rant? No. Not at all. There are so many great men out there doing good service. Even the ones who I don't particularly like or agree with. My problem isn't with them at all. I actually think we stand to learn a lot from them. Most men don't apologize for being human. I actually sort of admire that about them, although some of them have taken that too far and could use a swift kick in the butt (we won't get into that now). A man can cure cancer, have 5 affairs with teenage bimbettes, be a bad drunk and neglect his children and somehow, he still makes it into the hall of fame for his good accomplishments. We'd bow at his feet for curing cancer and pretend none of the other stuff happened. If you look at history, there are countless examples. But women are not afforded this luxury. We have somehow been put in the position of needing to be morally superior and visions of walking art as well. If a woman is highly intelligent and has much to offer the world, she is expected to behave with the utmost decorum. Any news of behavior that is somewhat off-color will likely blemish her accomplishments as well. Why is this?

And if your life's ambitions lead you to behave too much like men have throughout the ages, you get dubbed a bitch, or unwomanly or... Hillary Clinton.

It seems to me that, while our society is driven by men, it is we women who perpetuate the stereotypes. We love to gossip and go on about people's private lives. And we are usually the first to turn our backs on a female neighbor or friend who has been caught behaving less than impeccably. Meanwhile we expect men to misbehave. We do. Even though it angers us and disgusts us, we expect it. We've come to expect it to the point of accepting it. But we don't extend ourselves the same courtesy of accepting human foibles as just that. "Oh, Susan ran off with the gardner?" Instead of gasping and clutching the table linen, we should send her good wishes for a brighter future. Perhaps this is a turning point for her. She hasn't gone insane - she's having a crisis. We should hope she hasn't given up her private practice or sold her ranch or stopped working on that research project and wish her the best. I guess I'm saying women need to start sticking together. The good ole boys club exists because men figured this out a long time ago. They don't sit there with their jaws dropped to the floor and eyes wide open. They chuckle about those human frailties, have a cigar or a beer and business moves forward. And besides, Susan's husband was carrying on with the mail room clerk, but that hasn't come to light yet.

So my rant is really about how women need to spend less time pretending to be morally superior and start supporting each other more. We'd all get ahead much faster if we tried to adopt that behavior from the guys. They may sometimes be emotionally retarded neanderthals but if you haven't noticed, for the most part, they're in charge. If we want to make some headway, we need to get with the program.

Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words... --Emily Dickinson

Today I have been practicing and, while I can feel resistance in the muscles at the back of my tongue, I suddenly feel like the voice I've always known exists inside my throat is actually making new attempts to unleash itself from my body. After so many years of grappling with this thing I feel that I might just manage to sing well enough to satisfy myself and make some recordings of myself I don't absolutely dread. Maybe I'll even enjoy listening to them.

Earl, the Shaman from the Ferry to St. George's in Bermuda, sent me a message of hope. He said I should have the patience of Job because something I've been wanting to happen for a long time will finally happen if I am just patient. Well, I believe that Earl is a messenger of God. When I left Newark airport on my way to Bermuda I couldn't understand the purpose of that trip. It wasn't a particularly fun island, Rich and I are losing all romance between us and I have been dull and lifeless regarding my life and my future. Nothing about going to Bermuda was particular exciting or happy. But, I know that all things in this life have a purpose. Earl, the Shaman was in Bermuda and I had to meet him on that ferry to receive his message. Honestly, I could not have foreseen that a ferry ride to St. Georges would have yielded such a message. And I count myself lucky for being there to receive it because I've started practicing again as if I have a purpose in continuing to sing.

Perhaps my voice is meant to be heard after all?

I suppose we shall see as we go along.

Dance Idea!

I've always loved to dance and move. Always. But my life seems to put me in situations where I am fairly sedentary. The one time I lost loads of weight I was taking this class I LOOOOOVED in New York. An African dance class. I sweat like a pig. I mean, you're likely to work out longer if you're enjoying your work out. You tend to cut it short when you're not too into it. Right? So, I've decided that the only way I will get in a good workout at least once a week (I can do not-so-good workouts the rest of the week) is to go to a dance class. Now, in order to do this, I will have to get to New York. Out here in the burbs, dance seems to be just for the kids. It's such a stupid narrow mentality out here. No creativity. Anyway, I just found a place that seems perfect and I'm psyched!!

The Notebook

I'm watching the movie, "The Notebook", I don't know how it turns out but I know one thing so far. Life is too short and too potentially wonderful to not live it by your gut. To not live it with gusto, with love and openness and trust in the divine nature of things.

Innate beliefs...

I am realizing that perhaps one of the things I need to work on is that I just don't believe in myself. I give up on myself. This is kind of scary to even write about because, in truth, I no longer know that I have the ability to believe in myself. So much many of my personals goals and dreams have turned to shit after years of dedicated, hard and dutiful work. It's not like I slacked. I worked hard and just didn't get the results I wanted. When you've had that kind of experience, you don't learn to believe in your efforts. Quite the opposite. So, I don't really know how I'm supposed to tackle this one.

I do know that, when talking to some of my friends who seem to always get what they're after, the one thing I do hear from them is that they don't spend too much time on things they realize aren't working. And maybe that's really been my problem. I will spend years trying to fix something that's not working. I've done it with relationships and my career. Perhaps what these people figure out early on is that sometimes things are meant to be and sometimes they're not. Maybe they have a keener sense of what's working and what's not and they walk away from whatever isn't and stick with the things they realize are working. In this way, they seem like constant winners. Everytime I turn my head, there is so and so, achieving something great. But when I speak to her and ask her why her answer might be, "well, I tried this and dropped it, then that, and dropped it, but when I tried this, it seemed to be working out well so I stuck with it and - voila!" And perhaps that is the lesson I need to hurry up and learn.

I stick with broken things, trying to repair them far longer than is prudent.